Ravage the Dark: 2 (Scavenge the Stars) Page 11

  Cayo immediately stopped crying and wiped a sleeve under his eyes. “Truly? You’ll let me work for you?”

  “It’s only temporary! And only if you do everything I say. If you don’t—or if you start blubbering again—I’ll kick you out.”

  Cayo clasped his hands together before him. “Thank you! Thank you so, so much, Mr. Florimond!”

  The man grunted something about coming in tomorrow evening before escaping to his back room. Cayo reined in his grin until he was back on the street, his victory nearly making him forget about the soreness of his body.

  One more step toward finding the cure—or the counterfeits.

  Or both.

  Victor was upset about the fish, but the bruise blooming on Cayo’s jaw was evidence enough that he was telling the truth. Still, he took it out of Cayo’s pay and only gave him one niera instead of two. When Cayo passed by the hospital, he shamefacedly handed the single niera to the administrator instead of the three he had been counting on to complete the payment.

  “I’m sorry it’s not the full amount,” Cayo said. “But I can get the rest to you tomorrow.”

  The man sighed, as if restraining himself from reminding Cayo that there could be no treatment without payment. Instead, the administrator gave him a weary smile and a nod. “That’ll do just fine, Mr. Lin. So long as it’s by tomorrow.”

  He visited with Soria for an hour. She was sleepy today and didn’t speak much, so he mostly just held her hand and drank the willowbark tea that Mother Hilas made for him once she’d spotted his bruise. He liked the woman. She didn’t ask questions.

  Cayo glanced at the bed across the room. It was now empty. The boy, Mother Hilas explained when he asked about it, had been moved to a private ward. No doubt his parents were now paranoid after Liesl and the others had kidnapped Julien Caver.

  When Cayo returned to the apartment, Liesl tsked at the sight of his bruise.

  “Let’s get to training, then,” she said. “So that you don’t get a matching one on the other side.”

  “Hold on. Something happened today.”

  “Other than a thrashing, you mean?”

  But when he told the Landless and Amaya about working for Florimond, genuine shock flitted across their faces.

  “You…” Avi leaned against the table, peering at Cayo as if seeing him for the first time. “You found a second job, one that gives us access to the alchemists.” Cayo nodded. “Who are you, and what have you done with our little lord?”

  “This is good,” Liesl murmured, eyes already faraway with possibility. “Cayo can keep an ear to the ground in order to suss out which alchemists the counterfeit money is coming from.”

  “Which might lead to the Benefactor.” Amaya looked at Cayo with a peculiar mix of confusion and satisfaction, though he couldn’t say if it was directed at him or at the situation in general.

  “Well done, Cayo.” Liesl put a hand on his shoulder. “But don’t think this’ll get you out of training. Especially now that you’ve put yourself in an even more dangerous position. You have to be ready for anything.”

  He was disappointed that their pride hadn’t lasted longer, but at least he had shown them he wasn’t entirely useless.

  They climbed up to the roof. Deadshot took her place against the chimney as Amaya watched on, Liesl going through the basics again with Cayo.

  “So when he got you to the ground, what did you do? I’ll show you how to break his hold next time. And I want you to start carrying a knife.”

  But they had tried knives, and a sword, and even a staff, and Cayo had been dreadful at all of them. He had tripped over the staff—which had just been a broom with the end chopped off—and had nearly impaled Liesl with Avi’s sword. Hand to hand may have been a slight improvement, but his motions still felt clumsy and slow, and as they worked into the evening Cayo began to feel his frustration boiling.

  “Again,” Liesl instructed as he squared off against Amaya. “Get her into a headlock.”

  Cayo took in a breath and blocked Amaya’s punch, restraining her arm. But she spun and kicked at his shin, making him curse and let her go.

  “Do not break your hold!” Liesl barked.

  “What in the hells am I supposed to do, then?” he shouted back. “I’m obviously not cut out for this!”

  Liesl crossed her arms, a dangerous glint in her eye. “So you’re just going to let yourself get mugged every day? Or, now that you’re poking through the alchemists’ affairs, present your back as an easy target in case you spook the wrong person? What about Soria? How will you pay for her treatment if they keep stealing your money?”

  “I don’t know, I… I don’t know.”

  He sank into a crouch, holding his pounding head. He felt like he was going to throw up, or scream, or maybe both. All his earlier excitement washed away in a tide of that familiar, muddy dread. His breaths started to come quick, his stomach roiling with nausea.

  Then came a gentle tap at his shoulder. Cayo looked up, expecting to find Amaya, surprised instead to see Deadshot crouched beside him.

  Silently, she handed over one of her pistols.

  Cayo stared at it. The muzzle was long and etched with a floral design, the handle gleaming with wood and pearl. Swallowing, he took it from her, testing the weight of the weapon in his hand.

  “There’s one thing we haven’t tried yet,” she said.

  Liesl seemed unsure, but at Deadshot’s small nod, she relented. Amaya regarded the pistol as if it were about to turn into a snake and wrap itself around Cayo’s neck.

  Deadshot went down to the apartment and came back with three empty milk bottles. She set them on the lip of the chimney, then stepped back.

  “Use the sight if you need to,” she said. “One foot in front. Don’t lock your arms. Watch out for the recoil. Be careful where you point it.”

  Cayo waited, but no further instruction came. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  He took a deep breath, his nerves buzzing. He’d never shot off a gun before. Cayo shook out his arms and lifted the pistol before him, aiming it at the leftmost bottle. The weight of it bore down his hands, but he forced himself to keep his arms up, to line up the sight as best he could.

  He thumbed back the hammer and pulled the trigger.

  The pistol jumped, the bullet firing with a kick of power that made him gasp and stumble back. The sound rang in his ears, his palms buzzing and warm in the aftermath.

  It took a moment for him to realize the bottle had shattered. Glass spread across the roof like fallen diamonds, sharp enough to bite.

  They were all silent as they processed the debris. Then Deadshot threw her head back and laughed.

  “What do you know? A natural.” She grinned and winked at Cayo, who flushed at the praise. “Guess I’ll need to teach you how to reload.”

  “Well,” Liesl said. “I suppose we’ve finally found your outlet.”

  Cayo looked down at the gun. It made him a bit uneasy, but he couldn’t deny the power he had felt. He handed it back to Deadshot, but she shook her head.

  “Keep her. I have plenty.”

  “Her?”

  “Her name’s Jazelle. You better take good care of her. She’s a fine lady—likes to be pampered.”

  “I’ll, uh, try my best.”

  “And you better not shoot your own foot off,” Amaya muttered. “Or aim that thing at me.”

  “Why would I…?” Cayo shook his head. “I won’t.”

  As he got ready for bed that night, he couldn’t help but stare at the pistol gleaming against the bedsheet. It was beautiful, he had to admit. But deadly. He’d need to be careful with it, desperate not to prove Amaya right by accidentally shooting off one of his own appendages.

  “Nice to meet you, Jazelle,” he murmured. “Please don’t get me murdered.”

  A ballroom is as dangerous as a battlefield.

  —SAYING FROM THE RAIN EMPIRE

  You what?” Remy roared.


  Amaya winced and rubbed her ear. “It was the only way.”

  “It was not the only way!” He groaned and put his head down on the apartment table, fingers digging into his windswept hair. “I was figuring out a way to call Caver in for questioning! You know, legally.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Avi asked as he sipped his tea.

  Remy had been so busy with the fever relief efforts he hadn’t been able to stop by for a few days. Liesl had debated whether or not to tell him about Caver, but Amaya had insisted. She was now beginning to regret it a little.

  Remy peered up at Avi. “This is why you’re all Landless. You think of the worst possible way to go about things and decide it’s the best solution.”

  “Well, it was,” Amaya retorted. “We got the information we needed. Or rather, we found out it was little more than a dead end.”

  “But now if I try to open up an investigation, there’ll be an inquiry,” Remy said. “Caver’s scared out of his mind as it is after that stunt you pulled.”

  “But he won’t go to the authorities,” Liesl said. “Otherwise he’d have to admit to being involved in the Benefactor’s counterfeit laundering.”

  “He didn’t know it was counterfeit, though.” Remy drummed his fingers against the table. “And now all we have is a new name that might not lead to anything we don’t already know.”

  “Which you’ll leave to us, if you’re smart,” Liesl said. “You would have spooked Caver just as bad had the authorities shown up on his doorstep. Anyone else involved in the scheme will be on high alert.”

  Remy sighed. “Fine. I’ll let you have this one. But please, please inform me the next time you decide to kidnap someone.”

  “Absolutely not,” Deadshot said.

  Amaya smiled as Remy grumbled. She recalled the times on the Brackish when he had helped settle disputes between the Water Bugs, the lectures he’d given the ones who had been behaving poorly. She could see now that Remy had always been fit for authority.

  Remy selected a butter cookie from the tin in the middle of the table. “By the way, where’s Cayo?”

  “At work,” Avi said with a smirk.

  “Oh, right.” Remy gave Amaya a pointed look. “The fish market.”

  When Cayo came back smelling like fish and the sea, it tended to make her nauseous. It threw her back onto the Brackish, to the creaking of the rigging and the squish of fish guts between her fingers.

  “Not the fish market,” Avi said. “An alchemist’s shop.”

  Remy blinked. “A what?”

  “The little lord’s gone and gotten himself a second job. One that might help us figure out which alchemists are in on the counterfeit scheme.”

  “Oh!” Remy glanced at Amaya to confirm this was true. “Well. That’s… great, actually. Not the part about having two jobs, but that experimental treatment’s not cheap. I don’t blame him for getting a second one.”

  “How has it been going?” Liesl asked him. “Has it been administered to others?”

  “The patients seem to be improving, but it’s not quite a cure. We compared it to the medicine in Moray and found that it helps counter the patients’ symptoms better, now that we know what causes them, but getting them to go away completely…” He sighed. “I don’t know. It’s not a total cure. They’ll just have to keep working.”

  Amaya was lost in thought when Remy left for the evening, promising he’d report any new developments on his end. She was wondering if she should visit Soria—she had gone a couple of times in the past week—when there was a knock on the door.

  Liesl opened it to reveal a Kharian girl, her skin a warm brown and her hair dark as ink. She held a shawl around herself, but Amaya could tell the neckline of her dress was plunging.

  “You Vivienne?” the girl drawled.

  “That would be me.”

  “Here.” The girl handed Liesl a slip of parchment. “That’s from Mona.” And with that, she turned and made for the stairs.

  “What was that all about?” Avi asked as Liesl returned to the table.

  Amaya had been staring at the girl, wondering why she looked familiar. “She’s from that Hall of Beauty place, isn’t she? The one where we met Jasper?”

  “Yes. I went back and did a little snooping. Apparently André Basque, widowed now for five years, likes to frequent a young woman there named Mona.” Liesl sat and read the message before handing it to Amaya. “I convinced her to become an informant.”

  “How did you swing that?” Avi asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Easy. I told her I was going to bring Basque down.”

  Amaya recognized Basque’s name, as well as an address, but the rest she couldn’t read. “What does it say?”

  “Basque is holding a gala at his manor to raise funds for those affected by ash fever. It’s our best chance to get close to him.” Liesl’s grin was sharp. “And we’re going to be attending.”

  Avi nearly choked on his tea. “Pardon?”

  “Rather, Amaya and Cayo will be attending as a young, newly married couple eager to show off their wealth and status.” Liesl leaned forward as Amaya shrank back, dread filling the pit in her stomach. “It’s time for you to become Countess Yamaa again.”

  “Absolutely not” were the first words out of Cayo’s mouth once the plan was related to him.

  He had just come home from an evening of work at the alchemist’s shop, weary after hauling boxes all day. Liesl had sat him down at the table and made him tea, asking if he’d learned anything useful, which he hadn’t. And then she had broken the news to him.

  Amaya tried not to flinch. It was difficult to ignore the acid in his voice.

  “Let me ask you a question,” Liesl said, all calm and composed. “You would do anything for your sister, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course, but—”

  “You ran away from home, traveled all the way to Chalier, and are now working a job at the fish market and a job as an alchemist’s lackey. All for her! So why shouldn’t I infiltrate a wealthy politician’s home for my sister?”

  “Then you pretend to be married!” He gestured wildly between Amaya and Liesl.

  “I can’t be seen,” Liesl reminded him patiently. “André Basque knows what I look like.”

  Cayo rubbed his hands over his face.

  Amaya stood up from her chair. “Look, I don’t like this, either,” she said, “but could you rein in your hatred of me for one hour and do this?”

  He looked at her as if she’d thrown a vase at his head. Cayo opened his mouth, released a frustrated breath.

  “That’s not it,” he muttered, looking away. “I’m just not comfortable with pretending to be someone I’m not. Not in such an elaborate way, at least. You’ve had practice at it, but I haven’t.”

  “Which is why your role is minimal,” Liesl explained. “Leave all the talking and flirting to Amaya.”

  “Flirting?” Amaya interrupted.

  “Basque is drawn to up-and-comers in the community, and I’m sure your appearance will cause a bit of a stir. Meanwhile, Avi will keep watch outside on the central balcony—it has access to the windows in the ballroom—and I’ll sneak into Basque’s study while you keep up the distraction. Deadshot will cover my back.”

  “You really do know your way around this man’s house, don’t you?” Avi said.

  “I still have the blueprints memorized from the last job. The last botched job.” Liesl finally let her composure crack as she clenched her jaw. “That mission cost me my sister. But this one will help me find her.”

  Cayo’s expression softened, but dread still sat heavy in Amaya’s gut—not merely at the thought of having to pretend with him that everything was fine, but at the idea of donning the countess persona again. What if she was out of practice? What if she ended up ruining the entire mission?

  A knock on the door sounded before Jasper let himself inside. “Ah, the gang’s assembled! Excellent.”

  “Let me guess,” Cayo drawled.
“You’re helping?”

  “Of course. I’d never pass up the chance to knock Basque down a peg or two.” Amaya recalled what Liesl had told her in the market about Jasper and Adrienne being close, remembered the fury in his eyes when he had spotted Basque in the Hall of Beauty. “In fact, Li gave me the most important role in all this.”

  “Which is?”

  “Tailor.” Jasper lifted his arms, full of two large, wrapped bundles. “One for the mean girl, one for the sad boy.”

  “Sad boy?” Cayo repeated as Amaya took the topmost bundle from Jasper. It was surprisingly heavy.

  “It wasn’t easy to get these,” Jasper said pointedly at Liesl, who rolled her eyes.

  “Stay for dinner, then. We’ll need to go over the plan again anyway. The gala is tomorrow night, and we’re tight on prep time.”

  “Are you sure this’ll work? Getting information from Basque’s own study?” Jasper leaned against the wall with crossed arms, his expression mellowing out to something more somber. “Trust me, I’ve tried to tap information from Basque for years. He hides his business too well.”

  “It’ll work,” Liesl said darkly. “It has to.”

  Amaya took the wrapped bundle to the bedroom. Placing it on her bed, she kept her fingertips on the crinkly paper, debating whether to open it now or wait until tomorrow.

  Curiosity getting the better of her, she began to unwrap the parchment from what it was protecting. It was the dark blue dress she had seen on display while walking with Remy, with the glittering sleeves and the star pattern spreading across the wide skirt. She stared at it as if it would rear up on its own and strangle her, wrap her in those gem-encrusted sleeves and steal the breath from her body.

  She touched the fabric with uncertain fingers. The corset was velvety and smooth, the skirt silken and soft. She imagined the tailor who had made it, dedicated to stitching every single one of these gems into the folds. Wondered what her seamstress mother would have said over the craftsmanship of it.

  Wondered what Cayo would say about it.

  Carefully, she wrapped the dress back up and placed it under her bed. She supposed she would find out tomorrow.