A weird feeling pressed on my fingers as I slid them near the signature line.
“Tell me everything about tonight,” Everard said. “Be detailed.”
Had I imagined it? I slipped my fingers near the signature spot again. Here it was, a weird pressure, like trying to push two magnets of the same polarity together.
“I rent a cheap room in the Tangle’s south end,” Tillmar said. “I was asleep. A runner came in the middle of the night and told me to go to Bluestone Plaza. I got my gear and went.”
It felt like the paper was trying to repel me. I ran my hand all over it. Only the bottom quarter of the contract was affected, directly around the signature line. I couldn’t even touch it.
“There were eight of us there: Otrade, Praga, and six others I didn’t know. Otrade said we were about to raid a house. We were to secure it and leave as many as we could alive, because he had to ask some questions. He kept asking Praga if she was sure she had the right house, and she kept telling him that she had followed the carriage all the way from the warehouse, and that he needed more people, because the man who’d carried the woman out made her skin crawl.”
It made sense now. Hreban had invested too much into the Butcher to leave him unattended. He told Otrade to keep an eye on it, and Otrade had sent Praga. She saw Everard carry me out and the Shears set the warehouse on fire. She must’ve followed our carriage straight to our house.
The only question now was, had Otrade reported to Hreban right away or did he wait? If I were Otrade, I would’ve waited until I could question us. The bad news would go over better with some kind of explanation attached.My lord, your pet serial killer was murdered, but I found the people responsible, and I have them under lock and key. What would you like us to do?
“Was Praga in the courtyard, too?” I asked.
Tillmar nodded. “She was the one who scaled the wall.”
There was no way to tell how much Hreban knew. He could know nothing or everything.
“I had a bad feeling about this,” Tillmar said. “I almost didn’t show up. That’s life, you know. It’s . . . short.”
Tillmar’s bad feelings were right on the money. If I didn’t interfere right now, Everard could kill him. Tillmar was a loose end that needed to be tied up.
“Is he any good?” I asked Gort.
“Yes,” Gort said. “Good fighter. Smart.”
“Is he lying about his family?”
“No.”
I looked at Everard. “Can I have him?”
He shrugged. “Do you have a use for him?”
I nodded.
“Very well.”
“Will, bring the wooden box, please.”
The wooden box was where I kept some of our money.
“Yes, my lady.”
Will left.
I rubbed the contract some more. Still a no-go on touching the signature line.
Will returned with the box. I opened it. Otrade had put a half-noma, fifty dens, on the bar. I would need to beat that. I took a noma out.
Tillmar’s face went completely flat.
I looked at the silver coin. “Gort?”
“Yes, my lady.”
