“What do you do for Jiafu?” Luca asks.
“Don’t you already know?”
“Yes. I do. I’m just making conversation. Does Villiam know that you help Jiafu steal from patrons during your shows?” His voice lacks the judgmental bite I’m used to from Nicoleta and Gill about my side work.
“Villiam doesn’t know,” I say.
“Ah, Gomorrah’s princess doesn’t have as clean a nose as Villiam believes.” Luca smiles the way our fortune-worker neighbor smiles when hearing a fresh piece of gossip. It occurs to me that Luca is simply a paler, younger, male version of her—the local gossip, only with more entitlement. “Why do you need to meet with Jiafu?”
“He still owes me my cut from the last job. It’s time for me to collect.”
“That sounds quite amusing. Would you object to me spectating?”
“Go ahead.” Usually Jiafu isn’t difficult about paying me, but I’ve never had to ask for it so long after the job. An audience could be advantageous. Jiafu is uncomfortable being the center of attention.
We pass the fence between the Uphill and the Downhill. Above us, the crescent moon glows dimly over the mountains. In a little over an hour, the birds will start chirping, and the sun will rise, and drunks will skulk outside in the Downhill.
I lead Luca in the direction opposite the path to his tent, where Jiafu’s caravan is parked in between a brothel and a tavern. Black paint covers every inch of it, so it practically blends into the darkness. Appropriate for a shadow-worker. Having a flashy caravan would be bad for business, when business hinges on not being noticed.
I knock on his door. “It’s me,” I say. It’s early enough that Jiafu will be awake but not out and about.
“’Rina?” he says from inside. “What’d I do to have to see your ugly face again?”
I wince. Maybe having Luca as an audience wasn’t the best idea. “You didn’t pay me.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Don’t shit with me.” I knock harder on the door. “Open up.”
He swings open the door. On the ground below him, his shadow twists and curls in the torchlight, marking him as a shadow-worker. His left eye is sporting an impressive shiner.
I smirk as I climb inside, Luca behind me. “Who gave you that?”
“I gave you your money two days ago. I handed it right to you.” He flicks my forehead. “Don’t tell me you lost it, cousin.”
“Lost it? You never gave it to me!”
He grabs fistfuls of hair in each hand and yanks his head back. For a shadow-worker, he has quite the dramatic flair. “It was two days ago. In the late afternoon. You were coming back with your whole lot of illusions from the baby’s funeral. I put it in your hand. I offered my condolences, and I left. Are you mental now or something?” He glances at Luca. “And who’s this Up-Mountainer? Your boyfriend? Come to convince me to pay you twice? He’s not much of a muscle, ’Rina—”
“You’re lying,” I say. “You’re never awake that early.”
“How would I even know about the funeral thing if I wasn’t there?” He points at the door. “Get out. You’re a lunatic.”
I flinch at the insult, my hands shaking. I would remember it if Jiafu paid me after the funeral. It’s not as if I would’ve forgotten. Which means he’s lying and trying to make me second-guess myself. It’s a pretty poor attempt. And it’s embarrassing in front of Luca, who might be starting to think that I really am crazy.
I rack my brain for an illusion terrorizing enough to make Jiafu piss himself. Venomous moths come to mind, the golden ones from the rainforests in the Vurundi Lands.
They appear one at a time, buzzing inside the cart.
“Don’t you pull this shit,” Jiafu says.
More moths appear, their eyes black, their stingers sharp and as long as my thumb. My Strings vaguely appear around my feet from using so much illusion-work, and I step aside so as not to get tangled up in them.
“I’m not kidding. Stop this.” He backs away from the moths toward the opposite wall of his cart. “You don’t want to fuck with me, ’Rina.”
The moths attack him, swarming as he swats at them and screams. While Jiafu falls to the floor in a fit, I reach into his pocket and pull out his coin purse. Then I jump out of the caravan. I’ll make the moths go away in a few minutes, once we’re far gone.
“Was that wise?” Luca asks. “He’s a criminal, who is acquainted with other, scarier criminals.”
