“No. Like I said, Dyraien always handles that stuff. He’s very particular about it, and I avoid Edgewater when I can.”
“Why?”
“It’s just a bad town.”
Tahki rubbed sleep from his eyes. He bumped one of the bandages on his face, but the cut beneath didn’t bleed. Rye had wrapped and cleaned it well. “Why do you think Dyraien wanted Gale to deliver the order this time?”
Rye shrugged. “I’m more interested in why you went in her place.”
Tahki shifted in the saddle. “After what happened the other day, I thought Dyraien thought I was incompetent. Like one mistake and he couldn’t trust me. Ordering the minerals seemed like a good way to prove to him I wasn’t worthless.”
Rye slowed the gingoat. “Everyone makes mistakes. That doesn’t mean you’re worthless.” He hesitated and then said, “You don’t have to try so hard. You’ve got a gift. Don’t spoil it by overthinking and rushing ahead.”
Before Tahki could reply, Rye tugged the animal to a halt. The town didn’t appear as unfriendly as it had before. They’d entered a different area, avoiding the brothel and fish market. Shop owners sold stands of buttered bread; a woman who owned a smaller pistol shop helped a young man shoot a gun; a red dog ran beside a boy in the street.
Rye dismounted and then helped Tahki down. Tahki held his breath as Rye gripped him.
“How’s the pain?” Rye said.
Tahki almost said fine but stopped. Rye was right. He didn’t need to try so hard to prove himself. “The pain isn’t crippling, but it isn’t comfortable, either.”
Rye nodded, reached into his bag, and gave him two more pills. Tahki popped them in his mouth as Rye tethered the gingoat. Once the animal was tied, Rye pulled a sheathed hunting knife from the saddlebag and secured it to his hip. The sight of the knife sobered Tahki. He’d never seen Rye with a weapon before.
“You don’t have to do this. Really,” Tahki said. “I’ll take the blame. If Dyraien doesn’t want me working for him anymore, I can find a job someplace else.” The words came easier than expected. The thought of losing his job scared him, but seeing Rye with that knife sent a wave of panic coursing so fiercely through his body that for a moment he genuinely didn’t care if Dyraien fired him.
“People like Zinc are a lot like eastern jungle cats,” Rye said. “Make yourself appear bigger and stronger, and they’ll go tails-tucked back into the trees.”
Tahki started to protest, but Rye moved quickly toward the town.
When they reached the underground tunnels, Tahki shivered.
“You sure you want to come with me?” Rye asked.
Tahki reached up and knocked on the door. The woman in red answered. She looked at Rye and gave him a seductive smile, but when her eyes landed on Tahki, she frowned and said, “Something I can do for you gentlemen?”
“Where’s Zinc?” Rye said. Tahki could hear the anger clenched between his teeth.
The woman pursed her lips. “Probably stuck between the legs of some whore.”
Rye shoved her aside and strode into the smoke-filled room. He walked to the nearest table and scooped up a handful of flickering lightning roots. Then he unlatched the knife from his side and sliced them open. They popped and bubbled, pink and blue light from inside draining onto the table, hissing and smoking as it touched the wood. The couple at the table jumped back.
“Are you out of your damn mind?” the woman in red said.
Tahki reached Rye’s side and cringed. Lightning roots were highly toxic when cut open, which was why they’d been banned in most countries. If enough raw liquid hit the open air, a person could be poisoned from inhaling it. A root’s outer case was thick, so leaks didn’t happen often, but a sharp blade could puncture it. Rye held them with his bare hands like a bouquet of flowers, and then released the empty casings, reaching for a fresh handful.
“I’d hate for you to shut down your establishment due to air contamination,” Rye said. “How much money do you suppose you’d lose? I hear it takes a month to properly cleanse the air and soil after a root leak.”
“Now, now, let’s all just calm down,” said a slow, rough voice. Tahki turned and saw Zinc standing a few feet away. “Any friend of D’s is always a welcomed guest here.”
Rye let the roots fall. “Is this how you treat a friend of Dyraien’s?” He gestured to Tahki.
“Not sure what the kid told you,” Zinc said. “But it’s your word over mine, and D and I were friends long before you entered the picture.”
Rye stepped forward so he stood face-to-face with Zinc. “Dyraien isn’t here now. It’s just me, and I believe Tahki.”
Tahki’s heart palpitated. Rye looked strong, but could he take Zinc in a fight? The other man probably had no qualms about fighting dirty, and the sober-looking men and woman in the house had already formed a kind of lopsided circle around the two of them. Rye’s knife hung visibly by his side, but he didn’t reach for it.
Zinc rubbed his jaw. “Never understood what D saw in you. I told him long ago to drown you in the river. It’s the proper way to dispose of a stray.”
“You have your money,” Rye said. “Now fill the order.”
Zinc glanced to Tahki.
“Don’t look at him,” Rye said.
Zinc laughed. “You know, D said you never went to brothels. I always assumed you were some kind of eunuch. But I guess it wasn’t about the parts a person had, it was about the color of skin.”
“The order, Zinc. Fill it.”
And then Zinc took a step back, put up his hands, and nodded. Tahki watched, surprised, because Zinc had no reason to back down.
“All right, calm down,” Zinc said. “I’ll fill the order.” He snapped his fingers, and the woman in red came to his side. He nodded to her, and she vanished behind the
