“Noceo,” he asked, “do you care for the Poxtan girl?”
A stutter in his brother’s steps. “Her name is Parvine.”
“You’re going to get her killed.”
“Fuck off!” Noceo roared and veered off into an alley.
Drenevan wondered if he should have been less blunt about it. He sighed, following him in. “Everything has a price. There is no future where you can have her. It’s dangerous to expect a chance.”
“I said, fuck off! Just because no one will ever want you doesn’t mean that it’s the same for me.”
Drenevan paused, wondering why the blow had landed. It was true. They had discussed it once when Dalvia had asked if he had ever thought of kissing her, and he had truthfully stated that he had once considered removing her tongue after she had pinned one of her failures on him and gotten his spine broken again.
He realized that he had come to a stop in the alley when he heard Noceo yell. This time, it held fear.Fuck. Racing to the source of the sound, he stilled at the two men holding his brother down. One had a hand over his mouth, the other searched his pockets for coin. Metal slid into Drenevan’s palm on instinct. He darted out of the shadows, blade held aloft when lightning cracked through the air and through the two thieves. They collapsed with a scream. Burns crawled up their faces and into the whites of their eyes, which ruptured. An inelegant death, but a swift one.
Dread settled on Drenevan’s shoulders. He turned toward the source of the bolts, expecting Clevsin’s fury. He halted.
“Who’re you?”
“I think I should be asking that.” A gray-haired man in green and gold robes stood at the opposite end of the alley. He eyed their robes as Noceo got up and dusted himself off. “You seem important.”
The stranger’s robes spoke of a much greater importance, in addition to his power. “Drenevan bu Kader,” he introduced himself, ignoring Noceo’s dig in the ribs. “This is my brother. Thank you, sir.”
“By the looks of it, you had it handled.” The man gestured to the knife in Drenevan’s palm. “Is that what the Clan’s taught you, boy?”
“It’s what the world’s taught me.”
“And do you prefer your Clan or the world, boy?” The stranger eyed him consideringly.
Upturned lips, hawkish features. There was a cunning glint to his eyes that warned of danger, but his finery and the rune-studded armilla on hiswrist spoke of opportunity. No man of wealth would venture so boldly into Komis’s underbelly unless they knew it couldn’t harm them.
“The world,” Noceo interjected, voice ragged. “Every fucking day.”
Drenevan slanted a quelling look at his brother, but the man looked pleased.
“I’m Tetrarch Othus.” He held out a hand, eyes gleaming when they shook it in turn. “I’m sure you’ve heard much about the Tetrarchy and how awful we all are, but I’m here to make things better. Just like I did earlier.” He offered them a genial smile. “Komis is a cruel city. I could do with some eyes and ears here. What do you say? Of course, there will be coin in it for you.”
Disappointment settled over him, followed by mild surprise that there was enough optimism left in him to be disappointed. The Tetrarchy was just as mercenary as the Clan.
Beside him, Noceo’s jaw tightened. His brother released a long breath, chuckled weakly, then shrugged. “You want all the goings-on in Komis, go ask the fishers on the Chaboras. They’ll jump as high as you want for coin.”
Othus’s eyes narrowed. “I see that I’ve misstepped.”
“You did. Thank you,Tetrarch.” Anger flushed his brother’s pale features when he turned to leave. Anger and something quieter.
And suddenly, Drenevan knew what it was, because it seemed that he had felt it too.
Hope.
There was a sliver of it still within their reach. He seized it.
“We don’t want your coin,” he informed Othus. Adrenaline brought a rare quiver to his fingers.
“Drenevan, just leave him—”
“I’ll give you all the information you need.” He didn’t have Noceo’s talent with Coercion, but he knew how to make his voice silk. “I trust the Tetrarchy a damn sight more than I do the Clan to improve life here.” He normally did this with more finesse, but time was of the essence. “We’ll be your eyes and ears for six months, Tetrarch Othus.” He took a deep breathand turned to catch Noceo’s eye.Do it. “Then, you’ll take us back south with you.”
Othus stared at him, then chuckled. “It seems you’ve vastly—”
