Page 57 of The Only Way Out Is Up

“So why do they pay their lenders back?”

I scratch my cheek. “Usually ’cause the lenders employ some big fucking guys who’ll beat the shit out of you if you don’t?”

Ky chuckles. “That’s one way to do it. Up here we prefer to rely on reputation.”

I give up. She clearly believes it, at any rate. “Who’s Eclamia Ginnick?”

“My great-aunt once removed, I think. I stole her name off our family tree.” She stretches her arms. “That’s one obstacle down, anyway. When we go up to Hod, we can withdraw the money and pay the entry fee.”

When we go up to Hod still sounds absurd, but not quite as absurd as it did at the beginning. “I’m starting to think we might actually get there.”

“Me too.” She grins at me. “This deserves a celebration. Have you ever had ice cream?”

“What cream?”

She guides me to a nearby stall, where a deep metal bucket is wrapped in sigwork. I stare for a minute at the sigils—there’s CHANNEL, which I normally associate with force, but it’s bound to HEAT and a web of threading wire…

“Here.” Ky counts a couple of weeks’ wages into the vendor’s hand and passes me a paper cup with a lump of white stuff in it. She demonstrates using a little scrap of wood to spoon a bit into her mouth. “It’s good.”

I cautiously follow suit, then slap my free hand against my lips. It’s cold. The sweetness comes a moment later. Ky is grinning, and I get the uncomfortable feeling she’s laughing at me.

“You don’t have ice cream in the undercity, I take it,” she says as we stroll away with our cups.

“We don’t have ice,” I say. I’d only heard of it in stories before coming to Malkuth. The ice cream is probably the coldest thing I’ve ever touched. “Who thinks of this stuff?”

“Probably some bored chef on Hod,” Ky says. “Most people on Hod are bored most of the time, if you don’t count the servants.”

I take another bite and let it dissolve on my tongue. “And that’s what you’re so eager to get back to?”

“I have things I need to do.”

“Like revenge.”

“Like revenge,” she agrees. “Gestian is going to die screaming, but not before he tells me who was pulling his strings.”

“Let’s say all that works,” I say. “You win, the bad guys are all dead, hurrah hurrah. Then what?”

“Then what?” She laughs. “That’s getting a bit ahead of ourselves, isn’t it?”

“A celebration deserves a bit of daydreaming, right?”

“I suppose.” Ky cocks her head. “I’ll take my father’s seat on the Council, and I’ll take over all the family businesses. There’s a lot of work to do there.”

“What does all that work get you?”

She shrugs. “Money. Respect. Power.”

“Is that what you want?”

Ky purses her lips. “I honestly don’t know. If you’d asked me a few months ago, I would have said…”

“Yes?” I guess when she trails off.

“Not exactly. More that it was my duty. To my father, to the family. What I want didn’t really signify. I’d grow up and take over, and that was that.” She sighs. “Then bear another generation to do it all over again.”

“Do you want that?”

“What, children?” Ky snorts. “Maybe eventually. It’s not something I think much about. Depends on… a lot of things.” She turns to me, curiously. “What about you? What are you going to do if we win?”