Dangerous Gifts (46 page)

“Help you. Help
you?
”

“Help...”

“You were willing to murder millions of people, and you want me to help you?”

A retching groan, his eyes beginning to bulge.
“Huuh...”

Oh, I wanted to let him choke. But unlike some, I’m no fucking murderer.

And Hargur, not to mention Fain, would be furious if he escaped questioning. I hooked an arm around the rail, and reached out.

But I couldn’t reach. He was too deep. His waving, sweating hand didn’t even brush my fingers. I pushed myself further out, horribly aware of the rushing sound of the grain still pattering out on the floor over the shouts and yells and sounds of the law being enthusiastically enforced. If I slipped, I’d follow him down.

The grain was up to his chin, then over it.

His mouth was open, taking shallow, gasping breaths; the grain crested, poured in.

I felt my hand slipping on the rail, and someone grabbed my belt.

The last glimpse I had of Thasado Heimarl was his hand, that soft merchant’s hand, reaching and grasping above the choking mass. Then it was gone.

I scrabbled my way back onto the platform.

Fain let go of me and stood back. “Well,” he said, looking down.

“Is it?” I stood up and brushed myself off as best I could.

I didn’t hear his answer; a cry from below went through me like a spear. “Hargur!”

I almost broke my neck getting down the steps.

The place was full of Militia. They were lifting him onto a stretcher.

I pushed through them. “Hey,” I said.

“Heimarl?” he said, and coughed, which obviously hurt.

“Fell in the corn. Dead. Stop talking.”

“Babylon...” His mouth was tight at the corners. Pain, or something else. He met my eyes briefly, looked away; not like him.

“Sssh. Let them stitch you up, then we’ll talk.”

“We’ll look after him,” one of the Millies said.

“You’d better,” I said. They carried him away.

“W
HERE’D ALL THE
Millies come from?” I said.

“I sent a message by the harbourmaster,” Fain said.

“Oh. Right.” I stared at the cobbles. Grains lay scattered between them. “I didn’t know you could drown in corn,” I said. The remaining Millies were still trying to get Heimarl’s body out of the grain bin. The others had taken Filchis off with them, as he gabbled names and details with a kind of furious fervour. How useful any of it would be, I didn’t know; I just hoped they put the little scrote in a cell with a couple of pissed-off weres and an Ikinchli or two.

“It was Filchis kicking open the hatch that did it,” Bergast said. “If the corn hadn’t been running out, it wouldn’t have happened.” He looked up at the astonished faces. “I grew up on a farm, all right?”

“Ah,” I said. “Well, you made a decent show in there.”

He flushed. “What should I do now?”

“You should go home,” Fain said. “And write out for me a list of everyone with whom you have had a connection. Everyone who might have had an interest in getting you sent to Incandress, everyone you have ever met who had any awareness whatsoever that you were interested in joining the Diplomatic Section, and anyone at the Section you have ever spoken to, and what was said. You will discuss this with no one. You will go nowhere. You will wait for me. You understand?”

“But...” Bergast said.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Scholar?” Mokraine said.

“Yes, First Adept?”

“When Mr Fain has finished with you, you will bring what is left to the old chapel on the corner of Fishpond Alley.”

“Wh...”

“The existence of such an incompetent in the Noble Arts offends my soul. If you wish to learn, if you wish to leave the rank of Scholar behind, you will come to me.”

If Bergast’s mouth had opened any wider, he would have fallen into himself and disappeared. Once he managed to re-hinge his jaw, he said, “Yes, First Adept. Thank you, First Adept.”

“Don’t thank me. I have taught you nothing yet.” Mokraine walked away, leaving Bergast staring.

“Don’t you think you’d better get started?” Fain said.

“Oh, yes, I will, right away!” He scurried off.

“Laney, you recognised Heimarl, didn’t you?” I said.

“Oh, yes. Remember I had a new client, just before you left?”

“Not really.”

“Well, I did. That was him. I was talking to him about the new curtains and
he
was the one who advised me to buy the silk!”

“Oh.” I’d forgotten about the silk, again. “Crap, the silk. I hope it’s still there.”

“Don’t worry,” Fain said. “I sent a message by the harbourmaster about that, too. If it is still there, it will be very well guarded.”

“Thank you,” I said, vaguely feeling more was required but not able to dredge it up. “Laney, did Heimarl suggest some of the people you should borrow from, by any chance?”

“Well, yes.”

“He really didn’t like being turned down, then,” I said.

“I
didn’t
turn him down!”

“No, but I did.”

“It seems you have good instincts,” Fain said.

“Bollocks. I’m an idiot. I almost got Hargur...” I had to stop.

“Come on,” Laney said, grabbing my hands. “I’m taking you home. Mr Fain, will you join us for a meal?”

Fain bowed. “I don’t think so, Lady Lanetherai. I have to deal with that woman, Suli. The little
opio
. A key, indeed. A key to the Section. I really
must
examine our hiring procedures.” He bowed over her hand. “Thank you all the same.” He stood in front of me, took my hand, bowed. Briefly, he pressed my fingers. “He will be fine, Babylon. Hargur is exceptionally tough.” He turned away.

“Hey, Fain.”

“Yes?” He didn’t quite turn back.

“Thanks.”

He touched his hand to his brow, and walked on.

We walked back along the familiar streets, with their noise and their colour and their dozen different races and their smells and their sheer, furious life
.

I thought about going to The Swamp,to see Kittack; but I’d leave it a while. Let things settle out. I felt a small hollow in my chest at the thought they might not, a bigger one at the thought of Hargur.

We turned into Goldencat Street to see someone lounging in the doorway of the Lantern, talking to Jivrais, who beamed and waved.

“I know you, don’t I?” I looked at the stocky, tusky female with the polished skin who was standing just inside the door, with a slightly embarrassed grin.

“This is Gornack,” Jivrais said. “She’s looking for work. She wants to be a doorguard. Say yes, do!”

“I’ve seen you somewhere before,” I said.

“There was a bit of trouble, by the gardens,” she said. “Some scrote who wanted to kick out half the city for being the wrong shape. Anyway. Heard you were looking for someone. I could do with some work, only I’d need to bring my lad with me. He’s no trouble. Well. Not much.”

“Your lad.”

“Yeah.”

“How old is he?”

“Seven.”

“You know what sort of place this is?”

“Yeah. He knows, too. He heard about you. He wants you to teach him.” She looked at my face and roared laughter. “
Fighting.
He wants you to teach him fighting.”

“What, he can’t learn that from you?” I said, looking at her rippling muscles and extremely well-used looking weaponry.

“I’m his
mother.
He doesn’t think I know anything worth knowing.” She rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know if we can hire,” I said. “We may be broke. But come eat, anyway,” I said. “Flower?”

Flower poked his head out of the kitchen. “Hello, Babylon.”

“We got enough food for one more?”

“Oh, I think I can manage that.”

I fell into bed after I’d eaten. I was so exhausted I could barely see, but still I couldn’t sleep. The thought of Hargur, injured because I’d been stupid. Because I’d used Fain’s damned device even though my gut had been yelling at me not to. The hells with the silk; the stuff was bad luck from beginning to end. The way Hargur had looked at me, or rather, not looked. Eventually I fell into a thick, dream-riddled doze, in which over and over I saw the blade go dull with Hargur’s blood. Familiar faces, drowning in grain. Heimarl. Kittack. Laney. Hargur. Me.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

G
ORNACK YELLED UP
the stairs, “Babylon! Visitor!” Damn, she had a voice like someone cleaning a well with a brick.

Still half-asleep, I dragged on a robe and staggered to the top of the stairs. “You still here? I’m not taking clients today...”

Hargur was standing in the doorway. He looked tired and I could see the bulge of bandages under his shirt. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” I said. “I mean, I thought... How are you?”

“Not as bad as I looked, clearly,” he said, smiling slightly. He took off his helmet. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, of course!” I hovered at the foot of the stairs. I didn’t want to take him into the parlour, and the bedroom seemed... wrong. He didn’t look as though that was what he was here for, even if he was up to it.

But he started walking up the stairs, and perforce, I followed.

“Oh, your silk thieves were caught,” he said. “In time.”

“Oh, good.”

“You should do well out of that.”

“I suppose so,” I said, wondering if that was the only reason he was here.

He went into my room, and I shut the door behind us.

“So,” he said, looking out of the window. “How was it? Incandress?”

“A long story. Hargur, please sit down, you look... tired.”

He folded himself into the chair by the window, not looking at me, fidgeting with the helmet he held in his hands. “Hargur?”

“Babylon, look. I just wanted...”

“Hargur, I need to...”

We both stopped. I felt a dreadful emptiness waiting to open in my chest.
I messed up. I messed up, and I almost got you killed, and you’ve had enough.
“Go on,” I said.
Get it over. Please.

“I just wanted to say that if you’re unhappy, with this, then I understand. You don’t have to dance around it.”

I must have looked very stupid. I
felt
very stupid. “I don’t. I mean, I thought... Wait. Hargur?”

He looked up, and I realised he looked utterly miserable. It hurt. It actually hurt, to see him look like that. I went over and knelt by the chair, and took the helmet away, and held his hands. “Hargur, what is it? What made you think that?”

“Well, you know.”

“I
don’t.
”

“Before I left, something was wrong. And then you went off to Incandress. I wondered if you’d gone because of something I
said,
because I never meant... Oh, this is idiotic,” he growled, suddenly sounding more like himself. “I don’t
do
this.”

I took a very deep breath. “Well, maybe we should.” I looked down at his hands, stroked the hard calluses with my fingers.

“When you got that message, why did you go yourself?”

“Because they told me it came from Incandress, via the Section, so I knew it was something to do with you. I knew you wouldn’t hand me a lead coin.”

“But you went alone.”

“You’re joking, aren’t you? I took young Roflet. But he got diverted by a weeping woman. Boy’s too susceptible.”

“Blonde, by any chance? In a dark blue cloak?”

“How did you know?”

“She’s the one who passed on the message. She’s mixed up with Heimarl’s lot.”

“Yes. Well, the Section’s dealing with her, now.”

“They caught her.”

“
We
caught her,” he growled.

“Is Roflet all right?”

“Sore head and injured pride. Why are we talking about Roflet, anyway?”

“I don’t know. Hargur, there are things I haven’t told you. About me. About who I was, and what that means. There’s stuff even I don’t know what it means, yet. And you need to know them.

“I put you in danger...” He started to protest and I put my finger to his lips. “Wait. Please. I put you in danger and I was stupid. I thought that was the end of us, and I wouldn’t have blamed you. But that’s not all.

“There’s this goddess, and she’s sort of got access to my head. I don’t know if she can reach me on Scalentine. It’s to do with what I was, a long time ago. But it’s my fault she’s there. I sent that message... Oh, never mind. But that was how she got in first. And then...” I seemed to run out of breath, and took another one, hard. “Filchis tried to get them to... to do things, to make me talk. I don’t even know if they’d have done it, but it’s been done to me before, and I... Well. I let her in. I was afraid, and it was all I could think of.” I tried to smile. Hargur was looking so grim I felt a little frightened.

“Let me understand this. You mean Filchis tried to get them to torture you?”

“Yes.”

His hands clenched hard on mine. “I see. And it’s happened to you before?”

“Yes.”

“Good thing I didn’t know,” he said. “Don’t look like that. I mean, it’s a good thing I didn’t know about Filchis. If I had, I’d have broken the little scrote’s neck. With or without a sword in my ribs.”

“You...”

“So, this goddess of yours. What’s she like?”

“Well, she was a goddess of soldiers, and of sex. I suppose she still is, but I don’t know where she’s doing her goddessing these days. Except, you know, in my head. And I don’t really
know
what she’s like, except she wants something. I’ve only spoken to her about three times in my life.”

“But you know she’s about fighting and sex. So, she’s you, only more so?”

“Um...”

“Because frankly, that doesn’t sound too bad. Considering that for three days a month I’m a mindless thing that can’t be around you in case I try and tear your head off.”

“Ah.”

“Honestly, Babylon. Did you really think that would be enough to put me off? I’m a were,
and
there’s the job. I see scarier things than you at morning lineup.”

“There is something else,” I said. This was the hardest thing, strangely. I couldn’t even look at him.

“Tell me,” he said, gently.