Twitch motioned to a log leaning against one of the nearby buildings. “I’ve got a stick—stick to help out with. I just hope I don’t find the lich at the other end of th-that thing.” He shuddered. “Fighting a wizard who won’t d-die? No, thanks.” His concerned expression returned. “But enough about th-that. What are you doing here? Did the Bosses s-s-summon you away, too? Stealing the th-thing from the old man’s house would have been more important than an-anything here, right?”
“There’s been a change of plans there, Twitch.” Skate looked around to make sure they were not being watched or listened to. “I’m out. I’m leaving the Ink.”
His face screwed up in confusion. “Leaving? W-what? Why?” His head jerked to the side, a familiar expression of agitation.
“They’re asking me to do something I can’t. They want to turn Belamy into a slave, to be a tool for their schemes, whatever they are. I won’t do that to him. I can’t.”
Twitch was shaking his head. “But he’s a l-lich. He’s not alive; he’s not a p-person.”
“He is. He’s not alive, but he’s still a person. I’m not gonna hand him over.” She searched his face. “You’re not gonna run off and rat on me, are you?”
“I…” His voice trailed off and he looked side-to-side, not meeting her gaze. “No, of c-course not. But w-what are you g-gonna do?” Now he did look at her, and there was only concern in his voice. “They’re not gonna l-let you just leave, especially not when they were expecting all of th-this work from you.”
“I’ve already sort of let them know I’m leaving,” Skate said, “and I think Kite will be pretty quick in delivering the message.” She explained the fight at Belamy’s house, and how she had all but declared her retirement from the Ink through her betrayal. “They’ll know soon, if they don’t already, that I’m not bringing Belamy’s soul tether to them.” She resisted the urge to place a reassuring hand on the statuette in her pocket; there was no reason to announce to Twitch (or anyone else, for that matter) that she held the thing. “Do me a favor: whenever what’s going to happen happens, stay out of it, okay? Belamy isn’t gonna try to hurt anybody, but I don’t wanna take chances.”
Twitch wasn’t listening. “What are you g-gonna do? I mean, how’re you gonna s-stay away from the Ink?” He brought a hand up to his head and scratched nervously. “They’re n-not gonna just let this go. They c-can’t. It’s one their r-rules. ‘Ink always stains,’ remember?” He looked her in the eye for the first time since her pronouncement. “What’s y-your plan?”
“I’ll stay with Belamy. He’s strong enough to protect me. He’s a wizard who doesn’t sleep or need anything.”
Twitch was shaking his head again. “They know where h-he lives, though, Skate. They’ve got wizards of their own, plus m-more they can hire if they need to. How many w-waves will it take for them to break through? How many attacks would he be willing to put up with f-for your sake?” He put a hand on each of her shoulders. “The Ink doesn’t g-give up, Skate. The Big Boss would never allow it. They’ll keep coming after y-you until they’ve got you. You know th-they will.”
It was Skate’s turn to avoid eye contact. He was right. You could be kicked out if the Boss thought it was a good punishment, or you could leave on good terms if you made a hefty payout.
Attacking members before leaving was…decidedly not advisable.
“I don’t care,” Skate said finally, still looking at her feet. “I don’t care what they’ll do. I won’t do what they want. It’s wrong. I don’t care if Belamy throws me out or gives me over to them to get them to stop. I can’t put him into their hands like that. Not after…” Her words trailed off because she didn’t know how to end that sentence. After he’d taught her to read? After he’d taken her in even though she was a thief? After she’d seen his memories? Any or all or none of these might have been the reason; she could not be sure, even now, what the deciding factor in her defection had been. I know it’s right, though. She raised her eyes. “I won’t betray a friend.”
Twitch nodded. “Neither will I.” He looked out into the street. “You n-need to go. We n-never talked.” He picked up his stick and went back to his post at the end of the alleyway, then shot a glance back at her. “Good luck, Skate.”
She wanted to say something more, but she heard the cause for Twitch’s concern: Kite was coming down the street, talking animatedly to someone. She ducked behind a stack of empty crates and waited for them to pass.
“—not lying to you. I got no reason to lie about this.”
“Spare me. You don’t need a reason. You’re a deceitful creature, Kite, as you have always been.” She knew the other voice; Haman rarely sounded this mad. “You cannot expect me to believe that in a few short weeks a girl seven years younger than you has managed to master difficult and complex magical skills. You say she summoned a demon frog out of someone’s legs, trapped two men in magical webbing, and cast a spell to hypnotize and disorient you? Preposterous nonsense. Stay ready, Twitch.”
Twitch said nothing, but evidently Kite and the other speaker stopped right in front of him to continue their talk. When Kite spoke again, he was seething, but kept most of his composure. “It ain’t nonsense, though, is it? I got witnesses. She didn’t manage to kill any of us; you ask the other four—they’ll tell you what happened. It were magic, Haman. Real powerful stuff.”
“I doubt very much that their reports and yours will match. They never have, have they? Always inconsistencies between your own reports and others’. Extraneous details implanted or crucial information omitted, names misremembered and locations blurred, outright contradictions left unexplained. I’ll say it again: spare me. Go report it to your new Boss. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to listen to whatever you have to say. Why are you here talking to me about it?”
There was a shuffling of feet. “Boss Shade don’t like it when jobs go bad.”
“Nobody likes that, Kite. It seems Boss Shade has even less time for fools like you than Boss Marshall does.”
Another shuffle of feet, though this time there was what sounded like a shout followed by a grunt. The sound of coughing and retching echoed down the alley. When Haman spoke again, his voice was almost a growl. “Don’t ever think you can touch me, Kite. Ever.” The coughing continued, and Haman sniffed dismissively. “Unpleasant,” he muttered. “Twitch, come along. We think he’ll be closer to the Plume. Our inquiries have told us that at least one of the performers has been seen there in the past weeks.”
“O-okay.” There was the sound of crunching snow as the two went away, and Kite’s heaving was slowing down. He groaned.
“Kill him. I’ll kill him, never mind the rule.” Kite coughed as he got to his feet, and more snow crunched underfoot, though he went in a different direction than Haman and Twitch.
Once she was sure she was alone in the alleyway, Skate stood and crept back toward the street. Stepping over Kite’s pile of sick and holding her nose to block out the smell, she turned left to follow her fellow thieves to whatever the “Plume” was.