Chapter 34 Nes
Nes
Nes didn’t have time for the streets.
She didn’t have time for the morning crowds or the carts or anything else that might get in her way. She cut across the rooftops, the Ditch a disjointed plane of blue and red and brown tiles.
The brawlhouse under the Siren’s Hair was not the only space Phineas lorded over. Far from it. There were countless other undergrounds—one under the ransacked magic distillery and another under several forges in the Bark. It was to the latter she headed.
Phineas did not know she was coming. She aimed to surprise him.
Toran, she hoped, had no surprises left coming his way.
She would not be the one to tell him the truth about Fell.
He didn’t need to know he’d killed his own father.
She’d seen the fear and horror on his face as he’d stared down at Fell’s corpse.
To tell him the truth would only torture him more. She wouldn’t do that.
There were some secrets the world was better off not knowing. Toran’s parentage was one. Her own another.
Gripping the gutter that ran along the roof, Nes swung herself over the edge. She tucked her toes into the nearest windowsill and began the steady climb to the ground. From there, she crossed the bridge over the canal separating the Ditch and the Bark.
Her eyes followed the slow-moving water as it slid beneath her feet, heading toward the castle, toward the ocean.
All this time there’d been more canals, ones that never saw the light of day.
She, who thought she knew the city best, had never considered where the ocean water in the Witch’s Well came from.
Because she’d always done her best to avoid the Witch’s Well.
Maybe if she hadn’t, she’d have realized sooner she didn’t need to sneak away to the docks in the dead of night to empty Phineas’s flask full of diluted magic and fill it instead with pure salt water.
Those sips were the only thing capable of quelling the magic inside her whenever it rose too close to the surface.
Last night had been a close call. Her body’s quick healing had always been the one part of her magic she could do nothing to stop. Whenever she got injured, her magic was there to close the wound, sometimes before the knife was removed from her skin. In that way, at least, her magic protected her.
But what happened last night had not been protection.
She saw the look in Toran’s eyes when she’d finally revealed her neck.
Saw the confusion and suspicion that lingered in his gaze like dense fog as they disposed of Fell’s body.
But then he’d stood by her, and any apprehension she’d felt faded.
Whatever was or wasn’t left between them, they were still in this together.
He would uphold his promise to free her father.
The smell of smoke and things singed wafted her way the deeper into the Bark she walked.
She turned a corner and ran the last few paces to the forge entrance.
It was one of many in a long line of forges on this street, all of which had no doors and few walls.
Heat from their fires hit like a door slammed in her face, so contrasting with the winter air filling the rest of the city.
She loosened her hold on the front of her cloak to allow the warmth through.
Phineas’s dog stood in the middle of the open forge, forceps poised to push a bowl into the fire raging in the hearth.
Nes held her breath, waiting.
A bell sounded, and all around, blacksmiths’ heads turned to face their fires, all of them pushing their metals into the blaze at the same time.
The rest of the city might have the clocktower to help tell time, but the Bark had its bell.
The ringing of it marked the start and end of timed intervals so all blacksmiths would know how long to heat their creations.
A useful tool, not just for the workers.
With everyone distracted, she took her chance. She slid open the door sandwiched between two forges and stepped inside the office.
Phineas sat at his desk, a mildly amused expression on his face. He had a hand outstretched over an ornate wooden box, but upon seeing her, he paused, shifting his hand to pick up the unlit pipe beside the box instead.
Phineas looked neither surprised to see her nor discomforted by her invasion of his privacy. He grinned lazily at her. The bastard.
“My dear Thé-a,” he crooned, drawing out the two syllables like he was fluttering a long stretch of ribbon between his front teeth. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“You don’t get to call me that,” she spat. “And you know exactly why I’m here.”
Phineas tapped the pipe on his chin. His hair was not the blond it had been the last time she’d paid him an impromptu visit. Nor was it the red she’d seen the other night. Today, it was a harsh, all-consuming black.
“I know so many reasons why you might show up here unannounced and alone. I suppose it’s too much to hope you’re here to work for me again. So, pray tell,” Phineas said, “which other reason is it today?”
The pipe tapped, the sound the loudest in the small space. It made her want to reach for one of her daggers. Slow, she had to take this slow.
“The Siren’s Hair,” she started.
Phineas sighed. “And here I’d hoped you’d make this mundane Monday more interesting for me.”
“You’re going to sign its ownership over,” she finished. “How’s that for interesting?”
Phineas lifted a single black brow at her. “Consider me intrigued. You expect me to just give my only legal business to you for free?”
“Of course not.”
“All right, I’ll bite.” He flashed his teeth, some a bit sharper than they should be. “What do I get in return?”
She tilted her head as if considering the question, as if she hadn’t come here knowing exactly how this conversation would play out. “You get the honor of knowing I finally bested you.”
Phineas scrunched his mouth to the side. “Have I taught you nothing about how deals work?”
“I think you still have your fair share to learn about deals. Especially keeping them.”
He shrugged his shoulders as if to say What can you do? “I was trying to teach you a lesson. Never make a deal in which you don’t get what you want first. Which is why I’ll never agree to whatever deal you’re proposing.”
She leaned in, placing both hands on the small desk. “But who said anything about a deal, Phineas? This is blackmail.”
Phineas’s jaw slackened just a fraction, but it was enough for her to notice. Enough to make her grin. It had taken her years, but she now knew what made Phineas Wraw so successful.
Phineas met her eyes and laughed outright. Loud and hard, the sound quickly filled the room, shaking the little desk between them. When he got ahold of himself, he said, “Oh, but dear, you have nothing to use against me. Nothing worth the price of what you’re asking.”
“Don’t I?”
The smile vanished from Phineas’s face. “You know nothing,” he growled, and for a second, Nes could have sworn she caught fangs poking out from between his lips. She grinned wider.
She pushed up off the desk and raised a hand, ticking things off on her fingers.
“Let’s see,” she said, her voice only too innocent.
“I know you deal in information. I know you’re the one who let Damari into the city.
I know you want to find her as much as I do but have had no luck.
And I know you’ve been having me followed for weeks.
So, Phineas, tell me, what are the chances of me knowing something juicy about you? High, wouldn’t you say?”
His hands were clenched into fists atop his desk—his skin turning an alarming shade of white over his muscles, as if his bones were on the verge of breaking through. “Just spit it out already, hound.”
Hound. She’d always found the nickname derisive. But maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe it fit her perfectly. She could be the hunter. It was far better than being the prey.
“I know what you are,” she hissed.
She expected him to laugh again, to deny her accusation. He didn’t. He sat perfectly still in his high-backed chair. But she didn’t let him unnerve her. She held the best cards right now, and he knew it.
“Once I considered the possibility, everything fell into place. You should really be more careful with your secrets.” She tsked.
Phineas chuckled. “I could say the same to you.”
She cocked her head. “Maybe. But I’m not the one whose business depends on such secrets.
I’m not the one who stands to lose a substantial amount of power should such secrets appear in, say…
” She hummed as if thinking over the possibilities.
“The daily paper for all to read? What would happen to your thriving underground then, Phineas? How could you possibly steal secrets when every soul in the city knows yours?”
Silence strummed between them, its final note snagging on their tension.
“And so the hound becomes the wolf,” Phineas said at last, his voice oddly uneven, like he couldn’t keep his vocal cords together.
“Don’t kid yourself. I’ve always been the wolf. You just failed to see my teeth.”
Phineas rested his chin on his hands. “Do you think I never noticed how often you returned to me with blood on your hands? If there is one thing I have never been ignorant of, my dear, it is your capacity to become the monster I know you are.”
She bristled. “That’s the difference between you and me, Phineas. I might become a monster, but you have always been one.”
“Keep telling yourself that. The day you realize it’s a lie, come find me.” Phineas flicked a finger out, the end of which curled with a hard black claw. “I’ll teach you how to sharpen your claws.”
“The deed, if you will,” she growled.
He considered her. “All right, I’ll bend,” he said. “But just this once. Don’t expect me to roll over for you every time.”
She didn’t. She knew, despite the value of the secret she’d uncovered, this was a one-time thing. “But this time, you will.”