By the time I’m dressed, I’m itching to get out of the palace, not only to check in with Devil but also just to spend some time on my own.
I like Glenquartz, and I want to trust him. I almost do. But I don’t think trust matters unless it’s wholly given. Or maybe there are different versions of trust, like how I trust a Royal to overreact to being pickpocketed and a cadet to overreact in a crowd. I trust Hat to meet me every morning at the corner. I trust Marcher to be self-serving. And I want to trust Glenquartz to have my back. But I’m not there yet.
I move the wardrobe underneath the skylight, climb on top, and push it open. I heave myself up and onto the roof. I follow the slanting patterns of the mostly flat roof until I get to a gutter system, where I climb down to ground level. It isn’t until I’m scaling walls and ducking down the streets of the Royal Court that this begins to feel like a mistake.
I hoped that dressing as one of the dark-clad Nameless would be like slipping into my old skin, but I’m annoyed to find that the clothes are more uncomfortable than I remember. I’d always thought the Royals looked pinned together and their outfits would be uncomfortable, but their clothes are warmer and smoother, and they fit better.
At this late hour, the gates out of the court are closed, and a guard paces the length of the front gate. I watch him, timing his path. It’s a fifteen-step trek each way, which takes him about ten seconds to walk. But sometimes he walks more slowly or quickly, putting his time anywhere from eight seconds to twenty-three.
On the streets, all I have are steps and time to measure my cons and thefts. I can always walk away when the numbers don’t add up. I don’t have that luxury here.
I take a breath and focus.
Empty space. Empty space. And then…an aura pulses beyond this wall like a column of dust hanging in the air, shifting on a breeze, trembling with a heartbeat. Another aura is closer by, low and calm.
A faint smile shadows my lips. High above, a night of shielding clouds protects me from the faint sheen of distant starlight, no moon to be seen. Perfect for a night of sneaking through the shadows, slinking to the alleys.
The second guard sits in a chair beside the gate, but his aura is calmer, like the drooping fronds of limp beach grass. As I draw near, I realize he’s asleep, head slumped forward.
The pacing aura moves away, and I walk quickly to the gate itself. When the aura slows down, I focus all my energy on being invisible. I remain motionless as he walks by again. Then I push open the gate and slip out as soon as he’s past. I rush down the road until I’m out of their sight.
Now that I’m in the Inner Ring, I’m beginning to feel like my old self again. No one is watching me or measuring my movements. No one is waiting for me to make a mistake or assassinate me.
It’s freeing.
It doesn’t take long to get to Devil’s. I’m as discreet as I can be outside her alley, but pulling on the string doesn’t do anything this time.
I call for her over the wall, and she tosses over the rope ladder. A quick climb, and I’m descending the stairs into her alley.
“Coin!” Devil says. “What in the vittin hell are you doing here?”
I’m struck with a sudden desire to hug her, and the image in my head is so startling, I stumble down the last step. Devil’s here, and she looks almost exactly the way I left her. Not much has changed, except that there are more half-burned candle stubs across her table.
“Have you been getting the food deliveries?” I ask.
“They were good for a while,” she says, “but the last couple have made people sick. I was going to send a message to you through the Legal boy. Things have been getting more violent out here since then.”
I start to correct her with the Legal servant’s real name, but I’m shocked to realize I don’t know it.
Instead, I ask the question that brought me here, Marcher’s question: “What’s been happening on the streets since I’ve been gone?”
Devil’s eyes darken, and her fingers curl into bold, angry fists. “Ask a different question.”
“Things aren’t good, then.”
“No.” She flexes her fingers and rolls her neck. “The Nameless are getting killed in the streets. Bodies are turning up every day now.”
“What about the ones who’ve disappeared over the past months? Have you heard anything new about them?” I hate the almost-hope that edges my voice, as if a mysterious disappearance is better than certain death.
Devil shrugs. “The answer is the same as when you asked the first time. I don’t know. Why are you so interested? We have bigger problems out here than a Nameless vanishing every few weeks.”
“We don’t know exactly when or why they disappear,” I stress. “Maybe they’ve been arrested?”
Devil sighs. “Chances are, you’re not going to find out. They could be anywhere. Shipped to another city that still deals in forced labor or simply killed and dumped in the ocean. Are you sure you want me looking? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’ll do it if you ask…and if you pay me.” She flashes a bright set of smiling teeth at me.
“Yes. I tried to ask at the palace, but either they don’t understand or they don’t care. I just…I haven’t wanted to care in a long time. It hurts, you know? To care about things I can’t change. It’s easier to ignore them, because then I can say nothing I’d do would make a difference…but I’m not so sure anymore. After the Assassins’ Festival, I could just go back to being me. While I have this tattoo…shouldn’t I do something?”
Devil scans my face. “You’re good, Coin. I didn’t think you’d con yourself into thinking you could make a difference, but I suppose if anyone could…it would be you.”
“If anyone could con themselves, or if anyone could make a difference?” I ask.
She gazes serenely into the empty orbital sockets of a wolf skull on her shelves. “I’ll do what you ask. I’ll look into it.”
“As long as you get paid?” I grin.
“As long as I get paid.”
“Let me guess, just the rings?”
“Of course. But also find me something interesting from the palace. I love a good trinket.” She strokes her bookcase delicately.
Before I can think of a smooth way to say goodbye, I feel a strange wispy sensation on my arm as if the wind is changing direction, and I sense three people rounding the corner near the alley.
“There are three Legals nearby…but there’s something wrong.” I shake my head, a sense of dread rising up inside me.