Page 26 of The Only Way Out Is Up

There’s a rumble from the Asshole up above. I freeze, halfway up Malkuth’s armored flank, exposed as a fly on a tabletop. A big chunk of concrete and steel emerges, but thank the moon it falls straight down among the hillocks of the tallest part of the Heap, adding a new crater to Rotwurm’s domain.

We can’t fight the Clawmarks, I finally send. There’s too many of them. We have to get them off our backs, even if that means paying double.

[Query: so you intend to take Ky’s job offer?]

It seems like our best shot at getting enough bits.

[Doubt: you believe she will welcome us back?]

I’m hoping she still needs us. I’m bringing back her father’s precious sword, at least. That should count for something, right?

[Contingency: if she doesn’t, we can always rob her again.]

It had better not come to that. Even if she didn’t report us the first time, I doubt she’d be willing to overlook a second round.

I’m aware that I’m putting a lot of faith in the word of a half-mad girl I’d victimized; Star’s not wrong. But her need had sounded sincere. And without the cash to repair Star’s combat body, I’m low on options. (The Clawmarks thankfully hadn’t damaged much in my room, probably unable to find the good stuff among all the junk lying around. Score one for messiness.)

I lever the busted plate back into place behind me and retrace my steps into Yesod. Star scouts ahead, reporting quiet streets. I have to resist the urge to rush; if I’m careless and get caught here, it’s not going to help anybody. I force myself to move slow and stick to the shadows.

Ky’s house looms as large as it did the first time. I pick out her window on the second story, broken glass already replaced. The BIND gloves take me up the wall, hand over hand. Star skitters along beside me. He pokes his small head up and scans the dark room.

[Assessment: empty. Bed made. Door closed.]

Unexpected. It’s well past midnight. I wonder if she’s having a late evening.

Or she’s moved out, some dark part of me whispers, and you’ve missed your chance forever…

Even in Yesod people don’t change houses at the drop of a hat, do they?

Probably safer to wait inside than out here, I tell Star. I put my gloved hand against the window and slide it open. As promised, it doesn’t lock. The runic hops nimbly over the sill and loses himself in the shadows. I follow, slow and quiet, and shut the window behind me. As my eyes adjust, I can see he’s right; the bed hasn’t been slept in. The closet is still full of her clothes, though, and there’s a new lamp on her bedside table.

She’ll be back. All we have to do is wait.

As if summoned by the thought, I hear a voice through the bedroom door. Not Ky’s voice; an older man, deep and authoritative.

“Stay here,” he orders someone, “and make sure we aren’t disturbed.”

“Of course, Pader,” someone answers.

The door handle starts to turn.

Well, shit. There had been no one else in the house the first time. I’d assumed that was the normal state of affairs. No time for regrets now, though—I dive sideways behind a sofa and crouch out of sight. Star, needing no urging, skitters between the legs of a low cabinet.

The door opens, and a man enters. He’s not short, but so broad as to look squat, with heavily muscled arms and a thick chest. I’d guess he’s in his thirties, but his hair has already retreated to the back of his skull, leaving just a ring of dirty-brown hair around a bald pate. He wears a dark suit and a soup-strainer mustache. I catch a glint of light from around his neck, something gold.

Ky is right behind him, and at the sight of her something fuses in my brain and smoke trickles out my ears. Last time I’d have said she was, you know, pretty; the way she looks now, adorned with everything the upper tiers have to offer, literally takes my breath away.

Her dress is pale blue, shimmering with metallic thread, and it sweeps around her like veils of impossible ice. Matching long gloves come up to her forearms but leave her fingers bare; the nails are decorated with patterns in gold. Her long hair is bound back with silver wire into a broad waterfall of white. Makeup softens the hard lines of her cheeks, and light sparkles across her brow as though there are tiny gemstones embedded in her skin.

Her bright eyes are hooded, and her face is a blank mask.

Behind her in the hall I catch a glimpse of guards, at least four of them with swords and sigwork breastplates. They’re not wearing any livery I recognize. The bald man turns and closes the door behind Ky, cutting off my view.

“Well?” Ky says, turning to face him. “What’s so important you don’t want to talk about it in front of your men?”

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d want my men around,” Pader says. I don’t like the smirk on his face at all. “Take off your clothes.”

“I’m sorry?” But she doesn’t sound surprised.