“There’s no need for hostility,” I said.
“I doubt that,” Azarin whispered.
“Easy.” It was troubling me that Joran knew so much about us. This wasn’t some ordinary shakedown. This was something worse. Azarin didn’t understand the criminal mindset. Her people were contentious as could be, but they had a certain integrity about how they conducted their many wars. I assumed the Latrocinium were more like the gangs I’d known in Fort Silver, just bigger, more organized, and deadlier.
Knowing this was some kind of trap, I addressed Joran as politely as I could. “You’re proper businessmen. We’re peaceful students trying to learn the ways of magic. I’m sure we can come to an equitable arrangement.”
“A common plea when one is behind on his rent. I’d suggest correcting that forthwith, because the Latrocinium’s eviction process being what it is, I cannot guarantee all your body parts will remain attached during it.” Joran raised his voice so thestudents who remained inside could hear him too. “That applies to all who reside here, for Carcalla is a fair landlord, but he is not a patient one.”
Even from down here, I could hear the nervous whispers of the other students watching from the windows. “I’m afraid we’re a bit short of coin right now.”
The satisfied look on Joran’s face told me I’d told him exactly what he’d been waiting to hear. “Ah, this inability to pay means we need to consider an alternative manner for you to work off this crushing debt you lot have acquired.”
The gangsters eyed us. From who they were most fixated on, apparently, our Squalo’s reputation for casually biting people’s limbs had gotten back to the Latrocinium. Trax must have picked up that thought of mine, because he projected to me, “I only bite humans when they are rude to me. I cannot abide rudeness. Do you feel these are being rude? Should I eat them?”
Surprisingly, Joran must have been another rarity among us land folk who could understand the undersea thought speech. “You’d try, but you’d go hungry today, Squalo. Your kind don’t even understand housing or commerce. You’d best stay out of this dispute.”
“Remarkable. This human just sent me an image of me being sliced into pieces and thrown into the canal. That is not very nice.”
Even more of our students had appeared in the windows above, so the Latros were watching them as well, and now that the gang was outnumbered, hands were beginning to stray toward wands and guns. They weren’t nearly as confident as their boss. Our Outcasts might not have been very good wizards, but there were a dozen of us, and quantity had a quality all its own.
Trying to prevent a blood bath, I said, “My apologies, Mr. Vanderhelst. I’d love to invite you gentlemen in to discuss thismatter further, but it appears our front door is currently blocked by several tons of dirt.”
“That’s fine. We were just leaving… and you’re coming with us.” When Joran smiled with his regular human teeth, it was almost as frightening as Trax’s mouth full of razors. “Carcalla has summoned you in particular, Mr. Carnavon, to a meeting at his fortress. It would be wise not keep him waiting.”
Four
Iwalked with the Latros across the Under Slump to the nearest bridge, and we began our long, spiraling climb up to the Slump. I went unarmed, a feeling I very much disliked, but I’d been told to leave my weapons and magic behind, to avoid anymisunderstandings.It had not been a suggestion.
The constant shade kept it dim and damp in the Under Slump. Out here, the sun was shining, but it remained freezing cold due to the bitter wind. It was even snowing a bit. As a native of Fogo, I’d been astounded the first time I’d seen snow. The idea of frozen fluffy water bits falling from the sky had been incredible to me. It was like an ash storm that wouldn’t burn your skin off. That first snow storm of mine was a fun experience, and I’d run into it with Azarin, who’d thought me a silly fool as I’d slid about, but she had still been entertained by my antics. I’d even stuck my tongue out and eaten some of the falling snowflakes. They tasted like water. You sure couldn’t do that in an ash storm!
Little had I realized that winter meant it would keep snowing and snowing, over and over, for months, until I got sick of the miserable, slick white shit piling up everywhere. The twoseasonsI’d experienced thus far in the Core had been awful.The next one was called spring, which everyone assured me was much nicer. I’d believe that when I saw it. For now, I kept my cloak wrapped tight around me and my hood up to protect my ears from frostbite—which was not a medical condition I’d been familiar with before coming here.
Even though the magic which had kept the Slump suspended in the air for thousands of years was slowly dying, and the whole neighborhood was gradually sinking and threatening to crush the Under Slump beneath it to death, on the bright side, having an entire district as a roof kept most of the snow off our heads. Out here, that wasn’t the case, and with a lot more ice collected on the bridges, several times, I slipped on the nasty stuff.
That caused the Latros surrounding me to laugh at my misfortune. “Stupid hotlander,” said one. “How can you walk across lava but not on a little dusting of snow?”
“We wait for the lava to cool enough to form a solid crust first. Failure to do so, we call that the old pegleg surprise.”
They laughed at that. I might be slipping and sliding to my demise, but it couldn’t hurt to try and stay on friendly terms with the resident gang. Despite basically being a captive, I was in relatively good spirits. Realistically, if Carcalla wanted me dead, the deed would already be done, and he wouldn’t have had his men put on this show of force for our benefit. Oh, I was certain I wasn’t being dragged to his lair for any good reasons, as I was surely about to be extorted and threatened, but my murder was unlikely, provided I didn’t piss him off.
Joran was far ahead at the front of the black-banded group. Everyone else using this narrow high road was quick to get out of our way. Even wagons and carts pulled aside for us and waited respectfully when they saw that Carcalla’s men were out. The Latrocinium weren’t overtly threatening. They didn’t need to be. By reputation alone, they controlled these streets.
“So why do they call him the Cutter?” I asked the same Latro.
“On account of how many people Joran cut up in the arena, I suppose.”
That wasn’t an unexpected revelation, but I’d been hoping that maybe there’d been a more innocuous reason for the title. Like he enjoyed cutting delicious cakes to serve to his guests.
“What rank is he?”
“Joran ain’t no mage, hotlander. He hunts mages for sport.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought by now everybody in the Slumps knew of Cutter Joran’s trick,” said the Latro wizard walking behind me. “Magic don’t work on him.”
That made no sense. Even from here, I could see he was wearing several enchanted charms, and because of my affinity to the element, I could even tell a few were imbued with Red. “He’s got magic on him right now.”
