“I’m a scavenger.”
“You’re arift. Probably unregistered, and definitely untrained. But the ability is there.” He leaned forward. “That pull you felt? That was the current. Most people can’t feel it at all. Even experienced wayfarers need instruments to detect and navigate them. But rifts can sense them naturally, can use them to find portals and navigate the Gallery.”
I’d suspected as much, deep down. But hearing it stated so plainly made it real in a way that was terrifying. “The Assembly requires all rifts to register,” I said carefully.
“The Assembly requires a lot of things that people ignore. If you’d registered, they’d have conscripted you into the Wayfarer Corps or locked you away for study. Rifts are rare. Valuable. The Assembly doesn’t like valuable assets running free.” He tilted his head. “How long have you known?”
“I’ve suspected for three years. Since I fell.”
“And you never told anyone?”
“I told my family. No one else.”
“Smart. Keep it that way.” He drummed his fingers on the table, thinking. “A rift would be useful in Nytheris. The realm’s portal is unstable. It shifts position, which makes it almost impossible to locate without specialized equipment. And once we’re inside, navigation between the islands will be difficult. The void currents there are chaotic.”
“So you’ll take the job?” Gideon asked.
“I’ll consider it. But I have questions first.” Cypher’s gaze fixed on me again. “Why do you need to go to Nytheris? What’s in it for you besides money?”
“All I need is the money. I don’t care where it comes from. My father was arrested by the Assembly. He’s in the Dredge. I need to hire a lawyer who can get him out.”
“What did he do?”
“Illegal distribution of anchor crystals.”
“So he’s a criminal.”
The casual dismissal in his tone made my temper flare. “He’s a craftsman who helped people the Assembly refused to help. People who needed anchors to make a living but couldn’t afford the Assembly’s prices or didn’t have the right connections.”
“Noble,” Cypher said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “And you think throwing yourself into one of the most dangerous realms in the Gallery will help him?”
“I think it’s my only option.”
He studied me for another long moment, and I forced myself to meet his gaze without flinching. I couldn’t show weakness, couldn’t let him see how much I needed this.
“Gideon mentioned an artifact,” Cypher said finally, as if the man wasn’t sitting next to him. “A codex. That’s what you’re after?”
“It’s what Gideon’s after,” I corrected. “I’m just the one retrieving it.”
“And you have any idea where in Nytheris this codex is supposed to be?”
“The Reliquarium. The royal archive.”
Something changed in his expression, so subtle I almost missed it. A tightening around his eyes, a tension in his jaw.
“You’ve been to Nytheris before,” I said, reading his reaction.
“Once. Years ago. It’s as bad as the stories say, maybe worse.”
“But you know how to navigate it.”
“I know how to not die immediately. That’s not the same thing.” He turned to Gideon. “What’s my cut?”
“Nine thousand sovereigns. Three thousand up front, six thousand on delivery.”
Cypher laughed. “Nine thousand to navigate the Deep Gallery, survive Nytheris, and retrieve a legendary artifact? You’re either insulting me or insane.”
“Ten thousand, then. Five up front.”
