The Thorn of Dentonhill (17 page)

“Get off my door!” she shouted.

“We're just having a word with your husband,” he said, crossing his powerful arms in front of him. “Won't take a click.”

“Where do you think you're hassling?” The shout pierced through the crowd. The people split open, allowing two Princes to come forward. One of them took the woman gently by the shoulders while the other moved up to the gentlemen at the door.

“Step off, boys,” he told the man in front.

Princes getting involved. Good. Everything should be sorted without him having to step up. No getting noticed.

“You all step off, Prince.” The gentleman scowled and leaned in aggressively. “There's only two of you.”

“This is Rose Street, friend,” the Prince said. “There's never just two of us.”

“And that's Waterpath,” said the gentleman, pointing across the street. “Want to guess what's right over there?” These were Fenmere's men, then.

“You really want to do this?” The Prince's voice rose to a shout. “You're gonna cross to hassle a shopman?”

“We've just got some questions.”

“You got questions, you ask us.”

The gentleman stepped forward, poking the Prince in the chest with a single finger. “When we've got questions for you, we'll ask them.”

The Prince snarled and grabbed the finger, twisting it hard. The gentleman winced but didn't give any further ground. His hand shot out to the Prince's throat. The Prince pulled a blade and sliced the man's arm.

The whole crowd went up like kindling, screaming and crying out, as the two Princes leaped at the gentlemen with knives and fists.

Veranix was about to jump in when Colin and another Prince came charging up.

“Rose Street!” Colin's companion called out, and they dove into the fray.

More men came out of the building from the other side of Waterpath. This was turning into a full-on rumble, and Colin and his Princes were about to be outnumbered.

To blazes with getting noticed.

Veranix drew in as much
numina
as he could, and used it to jump over the crowd and place himself between the rumble and the new group of Fenmere's men, at the same time changing his appearance into his usual outfit for going into the streets, including a hood over his face.

Fenmere's gang all stopped in their tracks. “That's him!”

“This is all for me?” Veranix asked. “I'm so flattered!”

Despite being in the midst of grappling with each other, the Princes and Fenmere's men in front of the shop all stopped fighting and stared at him.

“It's the Thorn!”

“It's really him!”

“Get him, then!” one of Fenmere's men shouted.

The group in front of Veranix all charged at him. He channeled more magic into his feet, jumping over them, sending another blast at their backs. Not strong enough to hurt them, just knock them to the ground.

“Yeah!” shouted a Prince, who took advantage of his sparring partner's attention being on Veranix. His knife found its mark in the man's back.

Veranix grabbed one of the men lying on the street and gave him a magic-enhanced toss back into the building he came from. Even with the cloak, that took more out of him than he expected. He was still getting used to just how much the cloak augmented his own abilities.

“Waterpath is your line!” Veranix shouted at the Fenmere's men. “You don't cross it. Not tonight, not ever!”

A cheer came up from the crowd.

Colin couldn't believe it. They were cheering for him.

This was too damn much. Colin needed to end this mess right now.

His boys had made short work of the thugs outside the store. Fenmere's goons were far too reliant on fear in their neighborhood. When it came to a real scrap, they rarely held their own.

Colin grabbed one of them, senseless from his beatings, and threw him down on the street with the others Veranix had knocked down.

“Get out of here,” he shouted. He pointed at Veranix, standing far too confidently over the group of Fenmere's thugs. “You want him, there he is!”

Despite the hood over his face, Colin could tell Veranix was surprised. It was only a moment, but it was clear.

Veranix quickly recovered, though, giving a quick laugh. “Of course, they have to catch me!” He saluted the Missus Gemmen, who had gotten into the door of her shop. Fenmere's thugs had cleared out of there, and her husband was at the door, bruised but well. Then Veranix jumped up, far higher than any man could naturally jump, and was shortly on the roof of the tenement on the other side of Waterpath. “Have a good night!”

Then Veranix—“the Thorn”—was gone.

Bells clanged from down Rose Street. Of course the sticks would show up now.

“Scatter!” Colin snapped at his boys. They took off in every direction, and he did the same, running down an alley that would take him over to the Uni gates.

He scrambled up a backstair in the alley, climbing up over the top of a window frame and pulling himself up over to the top of the roof. This wasn't his scene, he had never been much of a roofman or eave runner, but he could do it when he needed to. From up there, he was able to look back at Rose Street. People had scattered good, Princes and Fenmere's goons alike, as well as the neighborhood folks. The sticks had no one to hassle besides the Gemmens, who wisely argued with the sticks from inside their own doors. He could see the new constab lieutenant looking around the intersection, clearly annoyed at not getting anyone to throw in the wagon. His own problem.

Colin turned around and went along the top of the building until he was at the Lily Street side, facing the Uni.

A vague shape came flying out of the night, landing with a soft thump a few feet from him. Colin had his knife out and was going at it, before it cleared into the form of Veranix in his school uniform. Colin was already swinging, and only had the chance to drop the knife and pull the punch slightly, knocking his cousin in the chest.

It felt good to do that.

“I deserved that, I suppose,” Veranix said.

“You think so?” Colin hissed.

“Yes, I do,” Veranix said. “I didn't mean to get involved in anything tonight. Things just . . . happened.”

“You didn't mean to?” Colin asked. He couldn't believe it. “You are involved, cousin. That mess down there, every bit of mess in Aventil tonight, that is all about you. The trouble you are starting.”

“I didn't start it!”

“No?” Colin slapped Veranix across the face, who did nothing to stop him. “Hitting Fenmere's dock shipments? Going after his dealers and bosses? What did you think would happen?”

“I thought I'd be hurting him!”

“You hurt him, he makes trouble here. You get it? And I bet you were the Uni kid who got beat up last night by, what, Hallaran's Boys?”

“I—I needed to tell the constable something! I woke up in the ward with him already hovering over me!”

“And that was just brilliant!” Colin was boiling now, unable to hold it in. “Because when it comes to protecting Uni brats, the sticks really know to only hassle one gang over here. Like they really care which of us did it. Of course, none of us did it, so the Boys are fuming over someone setting them up!”

“I know, I know,” Veranix said.

“Right, because now you're sneaking in the Turnabout, I saw. Are you that stupid?”

“I was just—”

“Just what? What was that, some magic trick? Make yourself look different? That's not a place for you!”

“It's a free city.”

Colin pulled up his sleeve. “That is a place for people who know what's on their arm. People who know what they stand for. People who know who has their back. People who give their own.” He grabbed Veranix's arm, pulling up the sleeve. “What's on your arm, cousin? What do you stand for?”

“You know I can't—”

“I know nothing about you,” Colin said. He shook his head. Time to lay it all out. “Do you really understand what happened here, with our fathers? My father started trouble, and when the heat of it came, he told his little brother to run. So your father ran, to keep Fenmere from going after him. People here
loved
your father.”

“So did I.” Veranix said.

“So did I! And so did my father. Long after the mess, my father was a broken man, and he made me swear, swear to Rose Street that I would do anything for yours if he came back. And just about every Prince out there would do the same.”

“I know that!” Veranix's voice cracked. He was still such a boy.

“Then you should know the one thing your father wanted was that
you
stayed safe, out of this mess. You aren't part of this.” He drove his fingers into Veranix's chest. “Get out of Aventil, Uni brat.”

Up until this point, Veranix had maintained a hint of a smirk on his face, a sign that underneath their fighting, everything was actually fine, he would apologize, and things would be as they had been.

That smirk melted away, and Veranix's gaze dropped to his feet. He said nothing, didn't move, for what felt like an impossibly long time. Colin wasn't about to give any ground, give Veranix another word. He just wanted him to go.

The silence was broken by the peals from Saint Julian's. It was nine bells.

Veranix glanced back in the direction of the church, a flash of fear and concern washing over his face. He gave a last look at Colin and leaped off the roof, changing again into a vague shadow, a hazy outline of a man gliding down across the street and over the Uni wall.

Colin's legs buckled from under him, and he dropped down, almost slipping off the edge of the roof. He sat, stewing in rage and grief. His street. His own cousin had brought Fenmere's heat right to his street.

He had known for years, from the moment Veranix first told him he would go after Fenmere, that the heat would burn him back. He should have put a stop to things before they started.

This was the end. If Veranix wanted to cause more trouble, he would take the heat on his own.

Colin had half a mind to let Fenmere know exactly who the Thorn really was. Not just pointing him at the student on the Uni campus, but letting him know exactly who that boy was: the son of Cal Tyson.

Colin stopped himself, barely aware that he had already gotten to his feet to take action. He couldn't go that far. Writing off Veranix was one thing, but he couldn't actively betray him.

If he did that, he wouldn't be worthy of the ink on his arm.

Colin shimmied down a drainpipe to the alley floor. The streets had gone quiet; word of the sticks' informal curfew had gotten out. Colin didn't like it, but he figured it wouldn't last for more than a few nights. Things like that never did. Sticks and their heat really were the least of his worries.

He decided it would be best to play the night cautious, though, and pulled down his jacket sleeves. Shoulders up, head down, he went out into the street, walking at a brisk pace to the flop under the barbershop. Hopefully the rest of his boys made it back there safely.

V
ERANIX LANDED ON
the soft grass, just a short space from the carriage house. His magical shrouding, even in the red glow of the nearly full blood moon, left him unnoticed. At least, he didn't hear a cry from any of the cadets, and he had to presume that the sight of some unknown thing soaring over the walls into campus would have gathered some attention.

He had gone too far, and had lost Colin. Had it been helping against Fenmere's goons, or sneaking into the Turnabout? Or setting the constabulary on the neighborhood?

Or had it been simply that Colin had only been indulging him as long as he didn't cause real trouble? He had never wanted Veranix to really go after Fenmere, really break the man. Colin was comfortable with how things were, and he had wanted Veranix to be comfortable with it too.

That wasn't going to happen, not as long as Fenmere was alive.

Veranix slipped into the carriage house. Kaiana was reading under a dim oil lamp, Nevin's journal lying casually at her feet. She looked up at his entrance, eyes darting nervously.

He realized he was still shrouded, and dropped the disguise. Kai startled, and then relaxed.

“You missed curfew bells.”

“I know,” he said. “I'm going to hold on to the cloak to get back into the dorms.”

“Fine by me,” she said. “Delmin came in, wanting to see the rope.”

“You let him?” Veranix wasn't sure how he felt about that. He trusted Delmin, but he remembered his friend losing control the moment he had touched the rope.

“I didn't let him touch it!” Kai laughed. “He just looked at it. He did ask an interesting question, though.”

“What's that?”

“Why a rope and a cloak?”

“What do you mean?”

“Delmin seemed to think they were crafted with a very specific purpose in mind.”

Veranix hadn't thought of that. “Did he have any idea what?”

Kai shook her head. “You've got to get out of here, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. Any luck with the decoding?”

She held up a scrap of paper for him to see. “This is the code key. You'll be able to work out the rest of the journal with it.”

“You didn't decode it?” he asked.

She scowled at him. “I figured out the key, Veranix. That was a lot of work.”

“I know,” he said defensively. “I appreciate it.”

“Good,” she said. “Anyway, you now have the tools to figure it out, but it's up to you to do it. I am tired. Unlike you, I need my sleep.”

“I need mine, too,” Veranix said.

“Then go and get it,” she said. She started going around the carriage house, blowing out lamps. Veranix tucked the paper in the journal.

“Kaiana, really. Thanks for . . . for everything you do,” he said falteringly. He was about to tell her about what happened out in the neighborhood, what happened with Colin.

“Are you going to cry or something?” she asked mockingly. She blew out another lamp.

“Oh, shut it,” he said. The moment was broken, he didn't want to get into it now. “A bloke tries to say how he feels.”

“And he feels like crying,” she said, laughing. “Get gone, already.”

“Aye, miss,” he said, shrouding himself again. “I'd hate to further hurt your virtuous reputation.” He slipped out the door before she said anything back and dashed across the lawn.

Colin reached the flop without incident. Jutie, Hetzer, and Tooser were already waiting, sitting on the floor playing cards around a few lamps. They all got on their feet when Colin came in.

“Cap, we thought you got pinched,” Jutie said.

Hetzer snorted. “I never thought that.”

Tooser came up and closed and latched the door. “Crazy night, huh, boss?”

“Complete mess, is what it was.” He dropped down on the floor. “We got anything to eat in here?”

“There's some ham and cheese in the larder,” Jutie said.

“Go get it.” He pulled off his boots and tossed them over by the door. “Sticks causing trouble, Hallaran's Boys and the other gangs. And Fenmere had his goons hassling in Gemmen's store!”

“That ain't right,” said Hetzer.

“Damn blazes that ain't right.”

“Good thing the Thorn straightened them out.”

Colin got on his stocking feet and smacked Hetzer. “Is that what you think happened out there?”

“Blazes, yes!” Hetzer's eyes flashed with anger. “We would have gotten creamed if he hadn't have shown!”

“They only were there because they wanted him!” Colin shouted. “We're only getting heat from Fenmere because of him!”

“At least he's out there doing something to Fenmere!”

Colin threw up his arms in frustration. Hetzer was a good bloke, but he could never see the bigger picture. That was why a guy like him would never make captain.

“You think it's trouble?” Tooser asked.

“I think Old Casey told me to keep an eye on this Thorn business,” Colin said. “We got a real problem with what happened out there.”

“What's that?” Jutie asked. He brought over a plate with the cheese and some ham. Colin cut off a slab of the meat and gnawed into it before continuing.

“Let's think, boys. Just for a moment, actually think things through to their logical ends.”

“We ain't stupid, cap!” Hetzer snapped.

“I know, boys. So, Fenmere's thugs come across Waterpath, and shake some shopkeepers about the Thorn. A few Rose Street Princes come and defend their turf. They scuffle, and who shows up and takes sides with the Princes?”

“The Thorn.”

“When news of that hits Fenmere, what conclusion do you think he's going to draw, Hetz? What would you think?”

“That the Thorn is working with us,” Hetzer said.

“Or he's one of us,” Jutie added.

“Exactly,” Colin said. He had a few more bites of cheese. It was getting hard and sour. “Anything to drink in here?”

“Jug of cider I bought this morning,” Tooser said.

“Bring it here,” Colin said. Tooser poured out a cup, and Colin washed out the taste of the cheese from his mouth. “If Fenmere's men are already crossing and hassling just because they want to ask some questions, you can bet your arm that they'll bring a hard boot down on us if they think we have the Thorn.”

“Bring the hard boot,” Hetzer said. “We've been living like we ought to be afraid of it too damn long.”

“That what you want, Hetz? You want to tell Old Casey and the other men in the basements that? You remember the last guy who said, ‘Bring the hard boot'? What was his name?”

Hetzer met Colin's eyes, blazing with anger and fierce pride. “Den Tyson, captain. And he was right!”

Colin looked away from Hetzer's intense gaze. “My father broke the neighborhood standing up to Fenmere. I'm not going to be the guy who breaks it again. And I'm not going to let the Thorn do it either.”

Jutie stepped up, putting himself between Hetzer and Colin. “All right, cap. What do you want to do about it?”

“Jutie, drum up some paperboys. Hetz, Tooser, you go down to Harkie the printer and put some squeeze on him. Do it decent, though, tell him it's a legit job with silver for him.”

“You're gonna throw down silver on this?” Hetzer asked.

“Tonight the line at Waterpath was cracked. We want to keep the line held, it's worth the silver,” Colin growled. “Rest of you, roust up anybody who can be wallpainters.”

“We're gonna paper and paint?” Tooser asked. “What we gonna say?”

“Something that says that Rose Street rejects the Thorn. He ain't one of ours, and we don't want him.”

“Bit much, you think?” Tooser said.

“You can do it,” Colin said. Tooser wasn't that smart, but he was clever when it came to a paper and paint job. He could always come up with a picture that sent the message. “Spread word to the other gangs in Aventil, they'd be wise to do the same.”

“That's what you want,” Hetzer said crossly, “pass some silver.” Colin handed him a few coins.

“Get out there and do it. I need some sleep.”

Delmin had dug through every book with references to napranium that he had been allowed to carry out of the library, starting with the dry
Compendium of Mystical Materials
to the obscure
Tsouljan Secrets of Magic
to the bizarre
Brenium's Northern Travels
. That last one made Delmin swear to himself that he would never go to Waisholm or Bardinæ. He had been so engrossed that he hadn't noticed the curfew bells had rung and Veranix had yet to arrive.

He didn't realize that until Rellings threw open the door. “Curfew has passed. Where is Calbert?”

“I—I'm not sure,” Delmin stammered out. “I haven't, er, that is, I don't know . . .”

“What don't you know?” Rellings casually looked around the room, moving the blanket on Veranix's bed, gently pushing a paper or two aside on Veranix's desk.

“I haven't seen him.”

“Since when?”

“Since this morning!”

“This morning? In the hospital ward?”

“Maybe he went back there,” Delmin offered. “Blazes, if I had gotten hurt like that I wouldn't have left.”

Rellings raised an eyebrow. “You think I didn't consider that, Sarren? You think I didn't have someone run over to the ward and check if one of the students under my charge was lying up in there?” He crossed over to Delmin's desk. Delmin was shorter and skinnier than Rellings, and sitting down he was dwarfed by the prefect.

Delmin gulped loudly. “And he isn't there?”

“No, he isn't there.”

Delmin sprang to his feet, in no small part to get out from under the prefect's towering gaze. “Maybe, then, he's succumbed to his injuries somewhere!”

“What?”

“Yes!” Delmin said, he realized with a bit too much enthusiasm. “Hurt like that, surely his strength would have given out on him. He might have been unable to get all the way up to the third floor, Rellings. Did you think of that?”

“No,” Rellings said. He puzzled on that for a moment. “I really hadn't.”

“That's very insensitive of you,” Delmin said, moving out of the room into the common area. He kept talking, his mouth acting almost of its own accord. “I mean, someone in Veranix's condition is in serious need of assistance, and are you looking to help him? It doesn't seem that way.”

“That's not fair, Sarren.” Rellings stalked after him. “It's exactly because of what happened to him last night that I'm—”

“What, Rellings?” Delmin asked. “Looking for a chance to bust him down?” He could feel beads of sweat forming on his brow. He didn't even know what he was saying to Rellings, he just kept talking, hoping vainly that Veranix would show up any moment and end the whole ridiculous thing.

“I'm responsible for—”

“I know what you're responsible for, Rellings. You are responsible for all of us in here. Like Parsons.”