Page 59 of The Only Way Out Is Up

[Alarm: something is wrong.]

Star? His mental voice sounds strained. I left him in his thief body back at Weslai’s; the Mark 4 is in storage at Venci’s pit. I haven’t actually tried talking to him over such a distance before. Are you okay?

[Status: I am concealed. But several people have entered the warehouse.]

It’s probably just some of Weslai’s other clients—

[Interruption: I hear screaming.]

TWENTY

You are really going to have to explain how you two communicate,” Ky says, panting from the run.

“He just talks in my head,” I mutter, peering around the corner.

“That makes no sense.”

“Don’t ask questions if you don’t want the answers. Shit.” I pull back. “Front door’s broken open.”

“Anyone on watch?”

“Not that I can see.”

Star, how many of them are there?

[Assessment: at least three. I am on the ceiling overhead.]

Is Weslai there? Is he okay?

[Apologies: I believe they have him captive, but I am too far up to observe closely.]

“They’ve got Weslai,” I tell Ky. “Three of them.”

She chews her lip. “Arbiters? Any armor?”

I relay the question to Star, who answers in the negative. “No.”

“Okay.” She slips her sword into her hand. “Let’s go.”

I want to maybe protest that maybe we shouldn’t go, that Weslai isn’t worth the risk, if he’s even still alive. He’s helped us, but to be blunt, we’ve gotten what we need from him. But Ky just heads to the door, not even looking back to make sure I follow, which means that of course I have no choice.

The door is splintered where it was crowbarred open; no subtlety here. We pad quietly through the stacks of crates until we’re close enough to see Weslai’s little living space. The fixer himself is lying on his worktable, not moving. A wiry woman in cheap workhouse clothes looks around uneasily, fingering the knife at her belt, while her two male colleagues are deep in whispered discussion beside the table.

“Can Star take the one on watch?” Ky asks.

Take her. Meaning, kill her. Ky’s seen Star kill before, of course. But that was different, somehow, than this cold decision to end someone’s life. I hesitate, but only for a moment. I have no doubt these thugs would do for me in a second if they had the chance.

The woman. Get ready to drop on her.

[Unease: it’s a long fall. Hard to be right on target.]

Do your best.

[Suggestion: I should have glider wings.]

I’ll add some to the next revision. On my mark.

[Ready.]