Varr fumed. Varr ranted. Varr raged. But Varr was not going to lay a finger on Beltin until he answered Faelan’s myriad of questions.
The bodyguard paced the length of the bar, hands behind his back, darkness surrounding him. He intimidated Dalia and Dani into the kitchen, though Dachs took his reaction in stride—and agreed with him. He even offered to ‘keep for him.
Lapis yawned and rubbed at her temple. Perhaps she could convince him that breakfast was in order, and get him to concentrate on something other than betrayal, pain, and death. She needed wake juice, considering her late-night and the very early crash of a knock that woke her from deep slumber.
And only woke her; a deadly furious Patch went with Faelan, the other rebels, and their Minq buddies to an undisclosed location for interrogation. She did not care, that The Gods’ Hands and his help would only leave after being thrown into a cart on its way to the Pit, and she wished them a better non-afterlife. Her partner hinted they both had large underground stakes he planned to collect, and no amount of begging would save them.
“Why haven’t they told you where they are?” Varr snapped.
“I’ve been sick, and it hasn’t been the top priority.”
He paused at that. “Sick.” He radiated heated rage. “Good thing, Patch took care of things.”
“Because you prancing onto the skyshroud demanding recompense would be a good look for Midir,” Lapis muttered.
“You underestimate how furious Midir was,” he replied. “I held him back.”
She squelched the image of thin, pleasant Midir turned maniacal cat, scratching at mid-air while Varr’s giant hand snagged his collar, keeping him in place.
“He hasn’t forgotten, or forgiven,” Varr continued. “And now he has someone else to fight for.” His eyes narrowed to burning slits, the wrinkles between his eyes so deep a bear would be proud. “Don’t think Perben’s luck will hold. He’s playing least in sight, but it’s just a matter of time.”
She wanted vengeance by her own hand, not through Midir.
Gabby skipped in, her curly pigtails bouncing about, beaming, followed by a more sober Scand. What made her so happy, her cheeks burned a bright ruby? She skidded to a stop and looked up and up at Varr; he paused and blinked down at the rat. She barely reached his waist, but the intimidation Lapis expected did not materialize.
“You’re so tall!” she squealed. “I want to be that tall, because I bet, when I become a knight, people will listen to me then. No back talk!” She waved her index finger back and forth.
Lapis met Scand’s mortified gaze and laughed.
Varr cocked his head and chuckled, desperately trying to regain a semblance of decent emotion. “I think genes have a bit to do with it,” he told her.
“Hmm. Are you sure it’s not some kind of vegetable? Even if it’s nasty, I’ll eat it!”
Dachs barked in laughter and Dalia and Dani timidly peeked out of the kitchen, to see what caused the humor.
“No you won’t,” Scand told her officiously. “You never eat anything that’s supposed to be good for you.”
“That’s not true!”
“What about that green drink stuff?”
She made a gagging face and slapped both her hands across her neck. “That isn’t a vegetable,” she reminded him. “That’s sewage or something.”
“Kriscrout isn’t sewage,” Lapis told them, though she hated it herself. A few of the Grey Streets kitchens served it as a remedy for the sniffles and light coughs, and claimed it kept one healthy through the cold months. It tasted nasty enough to drive something away, but it wasn’t sickness.
Varr’s disgust reflected Gabby’s.
“What’s up, Gabby?” she asked, attempting to distract from the thought of the foul brew.
“Well, there’re two things,” she admitted. “One’s good, the other’s bad. I think.”
Scand blew his breath harshly out between his teeth and snagged his sun-bleached locks behind his ears. “There’re a couple of people looking for you, Lady,” he told her.
“Who?” The last time someone searched her out, she unexpectedly encountered Perben and found out someone was targeting her to get to Patch.
Varr flopped into one of the chairs, which groaned ferociously but stayed intact, sank his elbow onto the table, planted his chin in his palm, and waited. Neither rat appeared upset or intimidated. Good. Around children, he was a pussy cat.
“The first is someone named Whitley,” Scand said.
“Whitley?” she asked, startled.
“Yeah. He says he knows you, and he says he needs to talk to you.”
“That’s fine. Send him here.” Her curiosity streaked through her. Why did Whitley want to see her? His father remained loyal to the Jiy House so they had not followed Faelan when he broke the rebellion. Why did he wish to speak with her? “Who else?”
“Someone named Baldur?”
Baldur??? What did the headman want with her? Had Whitley wanted to warn her about him?
Gabby rolled her eyes and frowned with disgust. “He obviously isn’t a Baldur, he’s some rich merchant who probably has a snobby name. I asked him why a rich merchant wanted to talk to you, and he wasn’t very nice, and his bodyguards yelled at me.”
Scand snickered. “Rin cleaned them out,” he informed them.
Lapis rubbed at her temple harder. Of course he had. Threatening a street rat linked to him in any way was pure insanity. “Did he find you in the Lells?”
“Yes. He said someone told him that he could find you through the rats. He was still there, grabbing any kid he saw and trying to shake info from them.”
That pissed her off. She glanced at Varr, who raised an eyebrow. “Come with me?”
He nodded. Good. She really did not want to confront Baldur and his men on her own, and Varr’s presence would intimidate them.
She scarcely finished the thought before Rin waltzed through the door, not bothering to hide the full purse he held. He tossed it on the table in front of her; it did not even sag to the side. What was the headman thinking, carting about that much money in the Lells? She opened it and peeked inside; silver.
Maybe the rebellion break had also broken his brain.
Varr peeked inside as well, and his belly laugh followed her up the stairs and echoed about her room as she quickly threw on something more appropriate for a confrontation with a man who wanted his position and influence with the rebellion back. She could think of no explanation other than a bribe, for him to openly carry that much money.
He certainly had no idea what drove Faelan. Fighting for country and king never held sway with him; using his status to gouge the underground for profit kept him faithful to the cause. Had the undershanks, realizing he no longer held sway with the rebellion, called in his debts? Served him right, for caring more about money than the people of Jilvayna. She hoped he fell far enough only the Stone Streets would have him.
One way to find out, how much trouble he was in.
