Dawnbreaker: Legends of the Duskwalker - Book 3 (40 page)

“Downtown,” Mr 850 said, ignoring 4jack’s statement. He let it hang in the air, as if having said it explained all that he meant by it.

“What about Downtown, Fifty?” jCharles prompted.

“You might be able to defend it,” he said. “If you could get everyone to hold their ground.”

“There’s a lot of ground to cover between the wall and Downtown,” jCharles said. “I don’t see how that helps us.”

“We use it,” Kyth said, and she looked meaningfully at Mr 850. The two of them were obviously on some page that jCharles hadn’t gotten to yet. Mr 850 nodded.

“Thin the numbers along the way,” he said.

“Spread them out,” she added.

And finally jCharles understood where they were headed.

“You’re talking about
letting
them into Greenstone?”

“They’re going to get in anyway,” Kyth said. “We might as well decide the terms.”

“How smart is this Asher guy?” 4jack asked.

“Extremely,” jCharles said.

“Arrogant?”

“I imagine so.”

“Then we might have a chance,” 4jack said. “Just have to make it look good.”

jCharles looked at 4jack, then Mr 850, and finally at Kyth. “You’re going to destroy my city, aren’t you?”

“Not
all
of it,” she replied. “And what did you expect? I have something of a reputation.”

jCharles chuckled and shook his head. “I’m gonna need a drink.”

They spent the next few hours talking through the whole concept from a high, strategic level, offering ideas, rejecting them, refining them. Plans were formed, scrapped, resurrected, reimagined. But the heart of the concept never changed.

They were going to convert Greenstone into an ambush-laden maze. A trap, the size of an entire city.

“There’s one major obstacle we have to get past,” jCharles said, as evening was coming on.

“Little short there, buddy-o,” 4jack said. “I count at least forty.”

“Oh I’m not talking about the insane amount of work and supplies and manpower,” jCharles said. “All that’s easy compared to the big one.”

“Which is?”

“The Bonefolder,” jCharles answered. “I can get a good chunk of folks on board. And we’ll have to keep as much of it under wraps as we can. But Bonefolder’s already on edge. We’re going to have to deal with her, probably sooner rather than later.”

“What about the Greenmen?” Kyth asked.

“They won’t go near her,” jCharles said.

“No, I mean, are they going to be a problem? Can we count on them?”

“Oh. Yeah, I think I can bring Hollander around,” jCharles said. “If I propose it as an emergency plan, maybe. An evacuation route, that sort of thing. Just in case. Maybe we don’t tell him too much about all the other parts of it. Not until we need to. But even if they were a hundred percent on board, I don’t see how we make it work with the Bonefolder. She’s got too many connections, too many favors to call in.”

“So let’s go talk to her,” Kyth said.

“I hadn’t been thinking about it being a conversation,” jCharles said.

“Maybe you should,” she replied. “I know you don’t like dealing with her, but think about how much faster everything would go if we had her kids helping out.”

“Whoa, wait now,” 4jack said. “You want to
team up
with the Bonefolder?”

“Gee, I don’t know, 4jack, what’d you have in mind? You want to go pick a fight with her?”

“No, but there’s a pretty big gap between fighting and being friends.”

“Not as much as you might think,” Kyth said. Then she shook her head and laughed. “Boys are so silly. Come on, Twitch. Set it up. I’ll go with you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” jCharles said.

“Nonsense. Get over yourself, jCharles.” She never called him jCharles, except when she wanted to get under his skin. “Let’s go chat with her.”

And that was how jCharles found himself standing across the street from the Bonefolder’s place the next morning, Kyth at his side. There was a tall, lean man at the door, watching them with a dead expression on his face. jCharles recognized him as Bonefolder’s nephew, Sander. Opening the front door was about all she allowed him to do anymore, on account of his handling of the situation with Cass long ago. Nice to see he still had work, at least.

“Just follow my lead,” jCharles said. “And keep your hands where everybody can see them.”

“OK, slugger,” Kyth said, and she slapped him on the backside, and then walked right up to Sander. “Hey, sweetheart,” she said, “We’re expected.” And she leaned in close.

Sander was about to respond when he apparently figured out what Kyth’s tattoo said. Then he pressed himself back up against the wall to avoid contact.

“Sander,” jCharles said.

“Yeah, go on in,” he said, and reached over and fiddled with the handle to let them pass, careful to keep as much distance between himself and Kyth as he could manage in that narrow space.

jCharles followed Kyth in, whispered, “Why do you have to give everyone such a hard time?”

“Aw come on, we’re all having fun here.”

The place still looked exactly the same as it had the last time jCharles had seen it, so much so that he felt a wave of deja vu; the main difference was that he was with Kyth instead of Three. The room was a wide open space, containing a number of tables. A far more upscale version of the Samurai McGann. Same idea, but highly refined. Bonefolder would have been horrified if she ever found out that her place and his had occurred together in the same thought. The bartender stood behind the bar on the left; in his sixties, and still looked like he could bite through a steel bar. The bartender dipped his head in greeting. jCharles nodded back. He scanned the balcony, where three men were arrayed around it, keeping watch over the floor below. And there, at her usual table, alone, sat the Bonefolder. Still just as old, just as severe as she’d ever been. The woman was like an ancient tree that just seemed to get stronger even as she got more gnarled. Impeccably dressed, as usual. But her face was even more sour than usual.

“Sit,” she said sharply. Didn’t even offer them a drink. jCharles led the way, pulled a chair out for Kyth, who flopped into it. She was being even more gregarious than usual. He took a seat next to her.

“How should I address this one?” Bonefolder asked jCharles, waving a dismissive hand Kyth’s direction.

“You can call me Trouble,” Kyth said before jCharles could answer. “And you can talk to me directly. I don’t let other people speak for me.”

Bonefolder turned her withering disapproval towards Kyth, but it bounced right off Kyth’s gleaming smile.

“Trouble is not a
name
,” she said, but whatever else she was going to say caught in her mouth. She closed it with a snap, frowned, and then continued. “Oh. Oh now that
is
unfortunate. Tell me, my dear, why would you let anyone devalue you in that manner?”

“I’m sorry?” Kyth said.

“Another man’s property, indeed. I find that repugnant.” Which was an odd thing to hear her say, since jCharles knew for a fact that Bonefolder had shuttled slavers around, and made a good chunk of money off it.

“Oh,” Kyth said, and she pointed up at her tattoo. “This?”

The Bonefolder dipped her head in her slow, mechanical nod.

“This is just stating the obvious,” Kyth said. She glanced over at jCharles for the first time, gave him a look. From anyone else, the look would have been asking for permission; from Kyth, it was just a warning about what she was going to do. He shrugged.

Kyth leaned forward across the table, lowered her voice. “
I’m
Kyth.”

For the first time in jCharles’s life, he saw Bonefolder look confused. It was a subtle expression; a mild pursing of the lips, a small furrow in her brow. It was magnificent to behold.

“I beg your pardon,” she said.

“I’m Kyth,” Kyth repeated. “I know you’ve probably heard otherwise, but that’s by design.”

She sat back in her chair. “Can I get a drink or something?”

Bonefolder looked at her for a long moment, like an algorithm someone had just fed a bunch of garbage data to. It went on so long that jCharles started to think the whole thing was blown; that the Bonefolder was so offended she was busy calculating the consequences she would have to face if she just had both of them killed on the spot. Even a couple of the guys on the balcony started shifting, like they knew something was up.

Then Bonefolder flicked a finger at the bartender.

“What can I get you, ma’am?” he asked.

She turned and fixed him with her gaze. “Surprise me.”

“Please don’t,” jCharles said.

The bartender ignored the comment and went to work.

“I assure you,” Bonefolder said, “this is not a game you want to play with me.”

“No game,” Kyth said, holding her hands up. “Our business has overlapped once before. I’m sure you recall it. You got a good deal. Taught me a good lesson about keeping tabs on who’s on the local security payroll, too, so it was win-win. Even though you won bigger.” She smiled when she said it.

The Bonefolder’s eyes narrowed. Whatever Kyth was referring to must have given her claim some credibility. The bartender walked over and placed a glass in front of Kyth.

“Thanks, fella,” she said. She took a sip, rolled it around in her mouth. Nodded.

“I made the whole Kyth-is-a-guy thing up,” Kyth continued. “Pretty early on, I got tired of having to prove myself every time some boy wanted to do business with me. So I just started giving credit to Kyth, as if
he
was my boss, and let
him
take all the credit for my work. Once word got around of how protective
he
was about his property, I had this done.” She indicated her tattoo again. “And hey, what do you know, suddenly business was a lot less of an argument. I’m sure you know how boys can be.”

And now jCharles was doubly blessed, nearly miraculously so. Bonefolder’s expression shifted from confusion to one that he didn’t believe was even possible. She smiled. Not in her usual condescending manner that actually communicated disdain. A real life, honest to goodness, smile. At least, her mouth drew into a thin line that was vaguely curved upward at the corners. jCharles imagined that maybe those muscles hadn’t been used in something like a hundred years.

“How remarkable,” Bonefolder said. “Remarkable indeed.”

She relaxed visibly, as much as anyone with her perfect posture could be said to relax. “It’s so refreshing to see a young lady having such success. And so clever. I’m delighted.”

Kyth shrugged. “It’s kind of taking the easy way out, I know. But I don’t have the patience that you must.”

“Indeed,” Bonefolder said. “Few do.”

And for all her ridiculousness, jCharles realized that Kyth had just accomplished something no one else had ever done. She’d established a rapport with the Bonefolder.

“Tell me, Ms Kyth,” Bonefolder said, “what is the purpose of your visit today?”

More than established a rapport. Apparently she’d just usurped jCharles’s position at the table.

“Bad news,” Kyth said. “I’m sure you’re aware that something’s going on across the Strand.”

Bonefolder made no indication one way or the other.

“Well, whatever you think is happening over there, it’s much, much worse.” From there, Kyth launched into a brief recap of everything jCharles had told her. Listening to her, he couldn’t help but be impressed. She didn’t tell it the way jCharles would have at all, and yet as she did, he couldn’t remember why he’d thought his way had been a good idea at all. Kyth seemed to know exactly which points to emphasize, which to ignore, and how to set up the request. Strangely, though, when it came time to lay out what they needed, instead of asking for anything she and jCharles had discussed, Kyth just ended and took a sip of her drink. Bonefolder was silent for a few moments.

“A bit farfetched,” she said finally. “Even if only half true.”

“If I were lying,” Kyth said, “trust me, I would have told you something that was a whole lot easier to believe.”

Bonefolder twitched her little smile again.

“Materials,” she said. “Personnel. Additional funding, I imagine. These are what you will require.”

Kyth smiled.

“You will be overseeing this initiative?” the Bonefolder asked, eyes still on Kyth.

“Not my show,” Kyth said. “This is Twitch’s bag.”

The corners of Bonefolder’s mouth turned down as if she’d just bitten into something intensely bitter. She blinked slowly, and then, with effort, turned to face him.

“We have often been at crosspurposes,” she said to jCharles. “I expect we will continue to be so in the future. But as this seems to involve more than either of us could prepare for individually, I acquiesce.”

She turned back to Kyth. “For you, Ms Kyth, I will see what can be arranged.”

“I’d appreciate that very much,” Kyth said brightly. “Thanks for your time. And for this,” she said, tipping her glass forward. “A high-class establishment in every respect.”

“Allow me to return the compliment,” Bonefolder replied. “It is rare that I have the opportunity to enjoy the company of a person of substance. I had almost forgotten it was possible. A pleasant change.”

She didn’t look at jCharles of course, but he knew the comment was pointed his direction.

“I will deal with you directly,” she continued. “Keep me apprised.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kyth said. jCharles couldn’t remember ever having heard Kyth call anyone ma’am before.

“You may go,” the Bonefolder said, and that was the end of the conversation. jCharles followed Kyth out in a mild daze.

“What exactly did I just witness?” he said as they crossed the street and started back towards the Samurai McGann. Kyth laughed.

“It’s called shared experience,” she said. “I could try to explain it, but I don’t think you’d get it.”

jCharles shook his head and chuckled. “Well I hope whatever magic you did lasts long enough to get this all done.”

Kyth wrapped her arm inside of jCharles’s, laid her head on his shoulder. “You really need to let yourself have a little more fun with life, Twitch. You try too hard.” He peeled her hand off his bicep, shrugged her off his shoulder.