Page 27

“Practically 11.”

“So…ten.”

That earned her a glare over the rim of the book.

“No offense, but aren’t you a little young to”—already be such a sadistic little shit?—“have an established career as a mercenary?”

The girl clicked her tongue. “Not all of us had a wealthy benefactor with a human savior complex ready to swoop in and rescue us from our tragic backstories.” She flipped a page. “We had to become our own heroes.”

“You sure seem to know a lot about me, kid.”

“The boss gave us all a dossier.”

“And I get the feeling you don’t like me.”

The girl didn’t even look up. “Then you have two brain cells to rub together. Congratulations.”

“Can’t help but wonder why.”

The shadows thickened as a rustle of air slipped through the room.

The girl finally looked up, lazily turning a page. “You really want to know?”

Taly nodded.

The girl’s lip curled. “It’s because you’re a disappointment. You were supposed to be this big, unstoppable force—able to survive anything. But now that you’re in front of me, I don’t know.” A shrug. “I think you mostly just got lucky.”

The girl hadn’t noticed. Not the deepening shadows. Not the tiny, clawed paw creeping toward the keyring hanging from her belt. Her heel idly thunked against the wood.

Metal tinkled.

The girl paused.

“So, you took my weapons,” Taly said, and the girl looked at her instead. “My coat, even my boots—smart. If I did manage to run, I wouldn’t get far before I had to stop for shelter.”

The girl scoffed and went back to reading. “The dossier failed to mention how much you like to yammer.”

“And wait, is this…?” Taly lowered her shoulder, testing how the ropes tightened and shifted. Just that little bit of effort left her winded. “Is this a bootlegger’s knot?”

A snort. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I’m assuming Kir taught you this. Down at Silvermist Landing? It’s kind of his thing.”

The girl finally looked up. “You hang out with smugglers?”

Taly’s mouth twitched. “I was one. Briefly.”

A scoff. “Yeah right. You’re too much of a bleeding-heart milksop.”

“Well, even bleeding-heart milksops have to eat.” At the nape of her neck, Taly felt it—the click of a key sliding into place. “And while this knot is good for securing barrels at a near vertical angle”—she exhaled, shifting her wrists—“it’s not great for binding. Comes loose with just a little bit of work.”

The girl’s smile was pure, youthful arrogance. “Too bad you’ve got that collar around your neck.”

“Yeah… too bad.” Taly’s eyes dropped to the shadows pooling at her feet, dark enough for two. “How’s it coming back there, Calcifer?”

The collar slipped off and clattered to the floor.

The girl cursed and hopped off the bar—