Yedin was perusing Miyomon’s knots and Jandra’s necklaces as she wandered up. He stood with an anxious man, who had shoved his hands into his pockets and gazed about the square in suspicion. She disliked dealing with farmers who assumed every city dweller meant them harm, but Yedin was nice enough. He glanced up, grinned, and purchased something from both the rats, which was very good of him.
“Nice to see you again,” she said, smiling.
“I thought I’d see if you were around,” he said, sounding happy. “Things have been strange since the Shroudies showed up, but I finally got some time to myself.”
“Would you like to sit down for a meal?”
“Sounds good.” He glanced at his companion. “This is my cousin, Thyden.”
Lapis almost froze. Almost. Were the non-existent gods playing tricks?
“He’s from out Blossom way. They haven’t had the best of times recently, so I decided to try and cheer ‘m up.”
Lapis laughed. “Well, the Lells has food and drink aplenty to delight the palate. Come on. I think Fished Out is a good place to highlight the delectable wonders at a reasonable price.”
“Sounds good.”
From the disagreeable grimace, Thyden did not think so, but he accompanied them, shoulders hunched, kicking up dust with the tips of his muddy black boots.
Thyden. That explained his nervousness. And Yedin happily had no idea about his cousin’s dealings, or he would not be carting him about the Lells. Lapis itched to throw the man against a wall and snap question after question at him, but she needed to proceed far more subtly than that. No need to scare off her stake with an imprudent word or two.
If he were that Thyden.
She had studied the picture Linz discovered before leaving to meet with Fyor. It contained a smiling man in a brown leather jacket, his dark bark-brown hair blowing in the wind, his matching eyes bright with exhilaration. She showed it to Patch, who made a comment about excited poor Jilvaynan in big city. He had been closer to the truth than he realized; farmers wanting more than fields and flocks had the same look about them when they visited Jiy for the first time.
While she had not initially recognized him, now that she examined him, she saw the resemblance. He had longer hair, a larger paunch and sported a darker tan, but she did not mistake his face. He had to be a good ten years older than the photo, and his exuberance did not age with him.
Yedin said he came from out Blossom way. Too much of a coincidence.
“Sorry to hear about the rough times,” Lapis said after they had ordered skewers, drink, and settled at an outdoor table. She had a pang about spending the bits, but she decided Faelan could make a very generous payment for services and replenish her stash. She could explain how difficult the search was, in having his cousin introduce them. “Things haven’t been smooth here, either.”
“Yeah, there’re rumors about last night floatin’ around the farmers’ market,” Yedin said, his eyebrows knitting. “About the Shroudies invadin’ the Night Market. A lot of farmers think they’re goin’ to start harrassin’ us, just ‘cause they can.”
“They had another reason for being there,” Lapis said. “So you can assure the others they’re safe. Well, for now, anyway.”
“Another reason?”
“Yeah. Something that attracted Minq attention.”
“Ew.” Yedin made a face.
“If the farmers do business with the Minq, the Shroudies might be interested in a little chat. If not, they have nothing to worry about.”
Thyden’s eyes widened.
“I don’t know anythin’ about the Minq,” Yedin said, then laughed. “After our adventure, I thought about chasin’. My grand-da reminded me I’d have to do business with syndicates and the like, if I did.”
“He’s just scaring you.” Lapis took a sip of tea. “It’s true, if you take a stake on a syndicate shank, you’ll need to deal with a syndicate shank, but that’s not necessary to make a living as a chaser. I take low-key stakes that don’t pay much but help others in the end. I do well enough.”
“I’m not lookin’ to make lots of money,” he admitted, fiddling with a skewer. “But fields aren’t my passion.” He looked at his cousin, who had spent the time eyeing the square rather than paying attention to the conversation. “Me and Thyden, we don’t fit the family, in a way. We’ve ambitions beyond plowin’. There’s nothin’ wrong with growin’ plants, raisin’ animals, but I like the city more ‘n the countryside.”
“My partner will agree with you,” she said drily. “When he’s out past the city walls, he glares at every stray grass blade until it withers.”
“You have a partner?”
“Yeah. And a couple of apprentices. If you’re interested, come along on a chase with us. Start out as a ‘keeper. Get in good with the guards, then move on to your own chases. Or do document delivery. Or bodyguard duty. There are many opportunities for chasers that have nothing to do with guttershank stakes.”
“Yeah, but it felt good, to get them louts to a guardhouse.”
“Because you were helping others when you did so. That’s a nice trait to have, as a chaser.”
“What is?” Patch hit the chair hard enough with his rump, it nearly tipped over. Would serve him right, but he snagged the table to keep upright.
“Helping others.”
“I help plenty,” he said, amused at her very arid tone. He leaned over for a kiss. Yedin and Thyden stared, the farmer with shock, his cousin with fear.
“This is Yedin,” she said, indicating the man. “And his cousin Thyden.”
Patch raised his wake juice in salute. The container was larger than his head and landed with a flump on the tabletop. Did he plan to drink all that? If he had the funds on him for a gigantic brew like that . . . She leaned over and fake-smiled up at him; his immediate, humor-filled suspicion brought true laughter to her lips. “They have curve-tail skewers. I didn’t have the money. PLEASE?”
He regarded her, then kissed her nose and made a production of gaining his feet and ambling into the eatery. Good. Playing nice, acting unintimidating. How wonderful, to have a partner who did not mind following her lead.
“He’s . . . he’s Patch?” Yedin asked, strained.
“Yeah,” she said. She did not even have to put warm love in her tone, it was just there. “We met as street rats in Coriy and moved here five years ago. He made a reputation for himself, I stayed in the shadows.” She shrugged. “We work together more often than people think, but he’s welcome to the dangerous stakes. I’m fine with bringing in the petty thieves.”
Thyden looked to have fouled his pants.
“You’d really take me on a stake with him?” Yedin asked.
“Yeah. I mean, chasing is risky, but there are levels. If you came with us, it would be more in line of us stealing back a wedding ring, and having you return it to the nearest guardhouse to claim the stake and fill out the paperwork. If you truly wish to be a chaser, starting small and learning the best ways first is safer, and in my opinion, makes you better. You learn to think, plan, then act.”
“He thinks and plans?”
“You have to, if you’re hunting a dangerous shank. Confronting one without sufficient planning leads to a quick death.”
Yedin sank back, mulling her words, munching on a skewer. Thyden sat, eyes wide, staring at his food. Lapis imagined he worried about getting out of his predicament. He could run and leave his cousin behind, but his sagging shoulders indicated he could not prompt himself into doing it. He shakily snagged a stick and shoved the meat in his mouth.
The farmer glanced at his relative, annoyed at the reaction. “What’s wrong with you?”
Thyden’s eyes watered. So he thought Patch caught him and that it would end badly. They had caught him, but not in the way he thought. Lapis sighed and leaned back.
“Are you that terrified of Patch?”
He stared at her.
“You shouldn’t be. Truthfully, I’d rather help you than turn in the stake to the Shroudies. You don’t look like the rough shank the leadcommander is expecting.”
Yedin’s confusion wrinkled his face. “What are you talkin’ about?”
Thyden swallowed, deflating. Patch returned and settled a plate with far more than curve-tail skewers on it. She looked at him.
“He needs help.”
He sat and selected one. “Lanth’s got a soft heart,” he said and bit down. He chewed thoroughly while Thyden squirmed. “I have a hard time believing you hooked up with Danaea.”
He flinched.
“Danaea?” Yedin peered closely at his cousin. “Who’s that?”
“A deceased hunter,” Lapis said. “I have a feeling your claim that he wanted more adventure than farming prompted him into some bad choices.”
Thyden shook his head and took a deep breath. “All I know about her work was that she set up different meetin’ places. She gave me things, and I’d take them to someone else. That’s it.”
Yedin’s gaze drilled a huge hole in his relation’s head. “Skyshrouds don’t stake people for courier services.”
“Not normally,” Patch said. “But their leadcommander’s a fucking jackass.” He eyed the man, his patch lighting with a round of flashy blue. “If I find out you’re lying, your family can pay their respects to the Pit.”
“You’re that witless?” Yedin asked, outraged.
“Yedin, she’s pretty. I mean was. She liked me. She did. We had fun together. We went up and watched the stars, went fishin’. But somethin’ went wrong, the last time we needed to meet. That trouble we had, I thought she got caught in it. She said she had somethin’ more important than normal to give me. She didn’t show up, though, and then the fightin’ started. And then Shroudies began askin’ about me. People didn’t trust ‘m, so lied, but . . .”
Yedin looked to smack him upside the head. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“Fear makes people do irrational things,” Lapis said quietly. “Thyden. The reason the skyshroud is looking for you is because they think you’re Danaea’s partner.”
“I am. Was.”
Patch laughed and took a huge swig of wake juice. “She played people,” he said. “She was good at it, and it finally caught her. I doubt you were any different. Let me guess, she paid you in sex rather than bits.”
He blushed so hard, so fast, that answered the question. Lapis’s idea of a hunter dwindled, replaced by a starry-eyed farm lad who eagerly followed her lead because she promised the hint of danger and intrigue missing from his existence.
This was not exactly how she expected her trip to discuss matters with Fyor going.
“What do you want to do?” she asked Patch.
“Your brother’s going to want to talk to him.”
“Brother?” Thyden asked, distrustful.
“Either that, or you can wallow in a guard cell while they send for the Black Hats. I’m betting that chat won’t be as civil.” Patch took another bite, unconcerned. He did a very good nonchalant act, and Lapis wished she had the same aplomb. She quivered inside when she confronted others. “And you’re going to be spilling your guts.” He cocked his head. “You could be as sly and underhanded as she was. You could be playing us. You won’t survive it, if so.” He finished the skewer and threw the stick at the plate and missed.
“I vouch for him.” Yedin’s quiet words, spoken with soft sincerity, contrasted his cousin’s. “He’s witless, but not evil.”
“A ringing endorsement.”
Lapis smacked her partner’s arm. He grinned; she handed him another skewer, so he did not have to prod around for one and ruin his intimidation. He had his patch doing something else rather than help with his depth perception, and she wondered if the enemy tread nearer than was safe.
Ah. Not the enemy. Rebels. Patch must have sent a rat to the House when he stepped inside for the skewers.
Faelan wandered to them, holding a large seafoam box reserved for rich, luscious pastries made at Candycakes rather than the Lells. Jetta and Tearlach accompanied him, and both looked to have already indulged in the treat. Good for them. She wondered if Patch might not nicely lend her a bit or two for some sweet.
Her brother grinned widely and set the box on the table. “Happy birthday.”
Birthday?
It was her birthday. Mid Year 4:21. Patch practically keeled over laughing, as she slid it closer, numb. Yes, she had forgotten her birthday. The day brought memories of her family celebrating with her, and she hated crying herself to sleep, so she fought to ignore it. Thirteen-year-old Rin helped with that; he had no idea when he was born, but decided he should share her birthday with her when he realized it made her sad. He happily did goofy things for her on that day, so she accepted, and she made certain to buy him a little gift in return.
But Faelan had no such reservations—and he gave her sweets.
She popped the lid open. Berry cakes, with thick cream topping and a sprinkle of honey sugar. She wiped at her eyes before taking one. “Thank you,” she choked out.
“Linz nearly jumped me for them when I brought them home,” Jetta told her. “They smell divine.”
She hugged them both, too touched to form meaningful words, and Tearlach for good measure. She bit into the softness, delighting in the flavor of honey mixed with sour berries, and beamed while shoving the rest in without chewing.
“Don’t choke,” her brother cautioned, laughing. She just smiled in return, a hard thing to do with her mouth so full, and could not quite wet the sweet enough for easy swallowing. Patch proffered his wake juice to make it go down, and she took a swig. She did not care.
She wiped her lips on the back of her sleeve and motioned to Yedin. “Faelan, this is Yedin. He helped me at a time I needed it, and he’s a good sort. This is his cousin Thyden, who needs a bit of help himself.” She closed the box and radiated happiness at them. “And now I’m going to go share these with Rin.”
She raced away before anyone objected.
