The apartment was cozy, warm, a mix of soft browns and warm yellows offset by light blues that created a sense of peace. Did Dachs, outgoing and boisterous, need a quieter place to retire to at night? Lapis understood that; sometimes, after the rats had exuberantly fled the Eaves, she retreated to her room, intent on wallowing in quiet.
He nervously tapped his fingertips together as Jetta meandered to the left wall. Shields dating from the beginning of the Taangis Empire hung there, defensive items used by soldiers long before it became a tech powerhouse. Made with both metal and wood, the objects contained central heraldic images of noble crests, painted with rich greens, blues and reds. Fading metallic gold and silver coated the edges and some bits of the interior design. They ranged from palm-sized decorations to heavy, dented kite shields that may have seen a battlefield or two.
“How much do you know about Danaea, Lapis?” Jetta asked as she took a sip of tea and studied the display.
She shrugged as she settled on the plush couch next to Faelan. “Not much. I know she’s an assassin who kills shanks while they’re having sex, and Patch seems to think her reputation’s greatly exaggerated.”
“No one likes her,” Dachs said, dropping into a well-padded rocker. “She wanders about the Lells and Candycakes, braggin’ about her most recent stake and bein’ partners with Patch. She uses the supposed relationship to threaten merchants into givin’ her stuff, free-of-charge. She tried that once with me.” Everyone winced. “I threw her into the street. I knew Patch would never partner with the likes o’ her. She was pissed and screamed about me mistreatin’ women. Heard she was lookin’ into my background but couldn’t find anythin’ to hold over my head.”
“Well, that won’t be a concern anymore,” Jetta assured him.
Lapis disliked how that simple sentence produced a modicum of hope. She should never take comfort in the death of a person—except for Perben. When he died, nothing but midnight-dark joy and relief would fill her. She sank into the couch and sighed. “When she confronted Patch at the Night Market, she told us I was staked. That’s how we found out. Copper confirmed it.”
Jetta rolled her eyes. “When she realized she had been followed—which amounted to me walking through her front door—she screamed about how Patch was her partner. I laughed and told her that I knew Patch, I knew you were his partner, and her lies finally caught her.” She eyed the pages Faelan still clasped in his hand. “She didn’t have enough info to justify sparing her. I think she thought I bluffed.” She shrugged.
“Linz ‘keepin’ the stake?” Dachs asked. He had propped his elbows on the armrests and tapped at his chin with his folded fingers.
“Yes. They’re careful, meticulous, and won’t leave a stray sheet we might need. They know how much was on Danaea’s head and they’re already planning to purchase a new wardrobe to celebrate their new home.”
Faelan half-smiled. “They believe we’re staying?”
“Yes. Are they wrong?”
“No.”
“Anyway, I’m certain all the info Danaea had is in her cabinets. She kept records about her kills, with braggy little notes attached to them.” Jetta lifted her lip in disgust. “What a horrid person. Anyway, Linz and I took what we thought most relevant, but there’s still a lot there, so I sent them to get help in cleaning it out before they go to the guard.” She twirled her index finger about in the air. “We have confirmation she killed Ahebban, but it wasn’t as easy as her note implied. He refused her advances, so resorted to other measures, and she had inside help. Whether that inside help was from the rebellion or through one of his business associates, she doesn’t say. She had to write a report about it, though, and not for the guards. She kept a copy to cover her ass because she was afraid of retaliation, and mentions a chaser named Dagby that she threatened with Patch if he demanded his cut. He apparently skulked away, vowed revenge, but nothing came of it.”
“Dagby’s a hunter,” Lapis said. “He was a regular chaser until he got addicted to brainbreak. Now he takes high-paying assassination stakes from the underground to support his habit. He and Patch have had a few encounters, and he’s backed down from those stakes. The drug addles him enough, he won’t win a fight against another, competent chaser if they clash.”
“Those Dentherion drugs are nasty,” Dachs grumbled. “Can’t imagine a hunter usin’ them and bein’ successful.”
“Patch says he gets vicious. It’s how he completes stake after stake and remains alive.”
“Patch should have gotten vicious on her,” Jetta continued. “It seems she made a habit of scaring other chasers from collecting their fair share by abusing his name. He did or said something that made that more difficult, because she complained about it going back maybe three years. She still abused his name, but it was far less effective with chasers, even if it worked on the commoners.”
Faelan sighed and flapped the pages in his hand. “Lapis, do you think we can bribe Dagby to answer questions?”
“Probably, if it’s enough to buy brainbreak. I don’t know how much he might remember about any particular stake, though, especially if it happened a few years ago.”
“If he resented Danaea as much as she implied, he might remember quite a bit.” Jetta turned on her heel and downed the rest of her tea. “I hate to say it, but there’s something more sinister going on than a woman taking a rich stake against a rebel leader. Hunters don’t write non-guard reports like that one, explaining their stakes. Someone wanted to make absolutely certain Ahebban was dead and wanted to have something to hold over Danaea’s head so she wouldn’t squeal in the future. Why they didn’t just kill her at that point, I couldn’t guess.”
“Patch’s reputation,” Tearlach offered as he continued to shuffle through his pages with a disgusted wince.
Lapis studied the golden-brown mosaics that decorated the top of the coffee table sitting between all the furniture. “There’s a problem with all that. Patch didn’t start taking the stakes that gave him his reputation until after Ahebban died. The chaser community knew him, but he wasn’t a fear-inspiring force like he is now. If Danaea did invoke his name with Dagby, it wasn’t because of his reputation. There has to be something else that spooked him about it.”
“Luckily, he’ll be back soon to ask.” Jetta settled in one of the deep-cushioned chairs and lounged back. “She had quite the blackmail list. We can use that to advantage.” She smirked at her brother. “I have a feeling you, and maybe Midir, are going to have a few prominent syndicate members politely asking for a meeting to discuss anything recovered. It will be a metgal opportunity to make some cash for the rebellion and begin mutually beneficial relations.”
“Start living in Jiy with a bang instead of a subdued peep?” Faelan nodded and flexed the hand of the arm that had taken the blade meant for her.
Patch slipped into the room and stood behind Tearlach, his hair dribbling streams down his cheeks, dressed in dry clothing and barefoot. He did not look particularly upset, which made Lapis uneasy.
“What did you find out?” she asked, twining her tresses between her fingers.
“That Heran’s an ass?”
She blew breath through her nose, firmed her lips, and glared, hoping the purple fire from her eyes made it through his thick skull and he rethought his tactic.
“She went to the Undermarket with Lars and staked you. When Lars realized what she had done, he and his buds went into hiding, because they didn’t want to suffer retaliation when eager shanks realized the stake had a fake payout. They thought I was there to kill them.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, glanced at the wet fingertips, and wiped them on his shirt. “Anyway, Heran was still at the Night Market, so I told her how things work with stakes in the underground. She didn’t fake the shock that her asinine stake endangered every rat in the Lells. I don’t think she believes she has a friend left. Other than Nelis, she probably doesn’t. I told her to lay low, listen to Copper, and let things die down until it’s safe to make amends. I don’t know if this has scared her to the point she’ll try, but I hope, at least, she listens to Copper from now on.”
“Listening isn’t the strong suit of teens,” Jetta said. Patch and Dachs smirked at that; Lapis did not consider it humorous. Neither did Tearlach; he studied them, eyes narrowed.
“I also talked to Sewri, because, conveniently enough, he was eating there. He said he didn’t put the stake out after review because he not only figured Heran couldn’t pay, he knew damn well Lady Lanth would never kill a street rat. He guessed she was pissed about something and once she calmed down, she’d be regretful and glad her lies didn’t see the light of day. He doesn’t know where all the above-ground copies came from, and I believe him, because a stake like this will grab Sir Armarandos’ attention. There are rules in place to keep revenge stakes based on lies from being activated, and Sewri’s people abide by them because he’ll lose business if the guard decides they have to audit the stakes he takes. He’s planning to talk to one of the guard superiors and get a meeting set up, he’s that bothered by this.”
“So someone used a grief-stricken rat to target Lapis.” Faelan stroked his chin, deep in thought.
“Yeah. I don’t think it was overt but opportunistic.”
“Maybe. Or maybe someone provided enough hints that she thought it a good idea.” Tearlach glanced about the room. “Meinrad and Rambart trained Perben to have friendly conversations with his people near enough their target to get them thinking about one thing or another, and dangle enough of a carrot to prod them in a convenient direction. Their targets didn’t even realize their thinking was being influenced. It didn’t succeed every time, but when people were mad enough or sad enough, they followed through.
“If Meinrad and Rambart have decided Lapis is a problem, they probably sent a few of their people to nose about where rats congregate and gather information. They saw an opportunity to urge Heran into a reckless decision that might exterminate their problem without anyone the wiser to their interference.”
“You never did like them, did you?” Jetta asked, laughter in her voice.
“No. But I always saw the darkness in Perben that others never noticed, and that Meinrad and Rambart promoted him above more qualified and more sympathetic people made me suspicious. I don’t think they’re as innocent in Perben’s involvement with the crown as they claim.”
“We need evidence,” Faelan cautioned. “Considering how many rebels are refusing to accept Lady Ailis’s well-documented and extensive proof against Perben, even if Heran pointed to rebels as the culprits, few would believe it, let alone think them capable of something that sinister.” He tapped at his cheek with his index finger. “Why did Heran settle on this line of revenge? Is it out of character?”
“I think it is,” Lapis said quietly, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. “But grief makes people do things they normally wouldn’t.” Latching onto the possibility that rebels manipulated Heran was ludicrous, but she wanted to believe that Grey Streets darkness had not obliterated the rat she once knew. She wanted to believe Heran still possessed a bit of hope shining through the grunge.
“True enough.” He held up the pages and sat up to toss them on the table. “Patch, Danaea claimed she used your reputation against Dagby when he wanted his cut for Ahebban’s stake. Lapis says he died before you gained your current reputation.”
“It did. I don’t think I’d encountered Dagby at that point, and the only reason I had heard of Danaea was because a guard told me she used my name with a fellow guard who wanted to shaft her on a stake. There was no reason for me to know or interact with most of the underground chasers and hunters because I wasn’t taking any understakes at that point. I was doing too much for the House.”
“Another puzzle, then. I need to talk to Midir about this. Lapis, Patch, I would like you to read through these.” He motioned to the pages with a sweep of his hand. “Since they’re Danaea’s records about Jiy stakes, you may find something useful in them. Jetta, get Linz, Caitria and Mairin working on the other items you took, then tell Lady Ailis and Ciaran they need to visit Lord Adrastos.” Faelan made a quirky, annoyed face. “He’s going to love getting his hands into this.” He studied Patch. “Between Brander or Sherridan, which one has more contacts at the Undermarket?”
“Sherridan. He does most of the buying there.”
“Maybe he can nose about for some more info about Heran’s wayward stake. It’s turned into something more than an asinine stunt by a street rat, and if rebels are involved, we need to know.” He stretched, winced, and dropped his arm. He studied the concerned and disapproving faces about him and jumped to his feet. “Ready, Tearlach?”
Small, bubbly laughter formed in Lapis’s throat. Not much had changed in him over eight years, had it?
