Toran had wanted to come with her tonight. Not that she’d told him where she was going. They were a team, he’d reminded her. He’d held her hand and pressed his forehead to hers. She’d relented. And then he’d gone downstairs to grab his cloak, and she’d snuck out the window before he got back.
She didn’t feel guilty for leaving him. Phineas was her problem. Not his.
The small, two-story apartment building where Keifer Harrow livedwas squeezed between the Walled Prison and a small granary. After spending a few minutes listening and sneaking peeks in window corners, she’d been able to discern only four people—including the man’s overly vivacious neighbors—were inside, tucked under their thin covers. Any other residents were out enjoying what the night had to offer.
Or lying dead in a dumpstreet, getting picked to bits by seagulls. Both were viable options.
Overhead, the moon was a slash across the sky, barely visible behind the thick clouds that hovered menacingly over the city. Just as she hovered menacingly outside the second-story window.
It was the perfect night to scale the rooftops—the cleanest part of the Ditch—and the luck of the low-lying fog had made her steps swift and silent. No one, not even the guards atop the wall, had spotted her.
Pulling her dagger from the side of her boot, Nes swung herself over the edge of the roof. She landed with a soft thud on the windowsill and, sliding her dagger between the windowpanes, unhooked the inside latch. The twin windows parted, opening out and allowing her to slink inside.
The room was quiet but for the steady breaths of the sleeping figure in the bed. A simple chest of drawers stood tall against one wall while a long mirror displayed its reflection on the other.
Dagger at the ready, Nes crossed the room, pausing only once to glance in the mirror. With her face shadowed and blade pointed, she looked like an assassin. Poised to kill.
Good.
It wouldn’t be the first time she’d killed. Far from it.
Most, she’d done on Phineas’s orders. Tonight she would have to kill of her own accord.
This, too, would not be a first for her. She’d taken two lives for herself. One of which sat heavy on her conscience. The other plagued her for other reasons.
Nes hugged her shadow tight as she pulled the flask from her waist and took a swig, wincing as the liquid went down.
In sleep, Keifer Harrow seemed much less foreboding than she’dimagined him. She’d watched the ordinary fisherman all afternoon. Watched him eat a hearty lunch before visiting a tavern in the Tap and betting his morning’s catch on an unfortunate hand of Blank. After losing, he had trudged back to the Ditch and fallen into bed at promptly eight o’clock.
But Nes wasn’t convinced.
Phineas wanted to meet with him for a reason. She needed to learn why.
Sliding her tongue along the inside of her lips, she crept up to the end of the bed and climbed onto the railed footboard. She stood tall, balancing like a conqueror. Then she leapt on top of the fisherman, pinning his arms and torso in less than a second. He grunted and thrashed beneath her, but she held firm.
“Who are you?” Harrow cried. “What do you want?”
“Tell me what you know about Phineas Wraw.”
“Who? I don’t know anyone by that name.”
She snarled at him, pushing the blade down a bit harder. “Don’t. Lie.”
Harrow lifted his head so they were nearly nose to nose, as if the blade meant nothing, and chuckled. “You can’t expect me to fear you when I’ve already looked into the eyes of the devil.”
For a second, her grip on the dagger loosened. “What do you mean? What do you know about Phineas?”
“We’re all doomed,” he hissed.
Then, faster than she could fathom, Harrow’s hand shot out from under the sheets and gripped the handle of her dagger. He forced her hand down until the blade dug deep into his neck.
Blood welled around the cut, drenching the steel and seeping into the crevices of her knuckles. Keifer Harrow made a gurgling sound, then fell back against his pillow. Dead.
Nes scampered off the man, wiping her dagger and hand in his bedsheets. Her hands shook as she stared at his still figure. Her ordinary man had just killed himself.
That was…unexpected.
From what she could see, the man had no reason to kill himself. Her eyes scanned the room. There had to be something here that told her more.
