Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle #1) - Jay Kristoff Page 0,137

“Just when I think I have the tiger by the tail, it turns and bites me. But I’m close. Very close, I think.”

Mia’s belly did a flip. If Lotti beat her to the punch in Spiderkiller’s contest …

“You think it’s wise to bring those notes to dinner?” Osrik asked.

“I should leave them in my room so Dona Busyfingers here can lift them?”

Carlotta raised an eyebrow at Ash. The girl had scored dozens of points in Mouser’s game by filching items and jewelry from other acolytes. Mia knew it was nothing personal, but she made damn sure to stay out of Ash’s reach when she could. Even Osrik sat away from striking range at dinner.

Ash tried to muster protest around her mouthful, almost choked herself, and finally settled for raising the knuckles.

“As I say”—Carlotta turned back to Mia—“safer to keep them clo—”

“Look out!”

With a curse and a crash, a passing Hand stumbled and fell onto Carlotta and Mia, dropping his laden tray with a bang. A half-filled jug and dirty dishes smashed over the table, splashing the acolytes with leftovers and wine. Carlotta snatched up her notes as the liquor soaked them through, the ink running and blurring. She untangled herself from the horrified servant, sodden pages crumpled in her fist. And as the Hand asked forgiveness, she stood, glaring at the tall Itreyan boy who’d knocked the servant over.

Diamo.

“Terribly sorry,” he said, helping the Hand to his feet. “My fault entirely.”

Carlotta gave the boy her dead-eye stare, not even blinking.

“You did that on purpose,” she said softly.

“An accident, Mi Dona, I assure you.”

Mia heard soft laughter. Turning, she saw Jessamine watching the proceedings with a poison smile. Carlotta heard the sound too, staring as Jess raised her glass in a toast. Soaked papers in hand, Lotti walked calmly over to stand before the redhead.

“My notes are ruined,” she reported.

“I hope they weren’t important?” Jessamine smirked. “You’re not fool enough to bring your venomcraft to the table, are you, little slavegirl?”

Carlotta’s hand rose to the cheek where her arkemical brand used to be.

“No man owns me,” she said softly.

“I’ll own you if you don’t step away, little bookworm. Spiderkiller’s not here to save you now.” Jess turned back to her meal with a sneer. “Now take your precious notes and go weep in a corner before I gift you a new hole.”

Diamo’s face split in a smug grin. Mia and Ashlinn shared a pained glance. It was no secret Jessamine was one of Solis’s favorites, and one of the most skilled acolytes in the Hall of Songs. Carlotta was booksmart, but no match for Jess in a knock-down scrap. The redhead was just rubbing Lotti’s nose in it now, knowing the other girl was too smart and even-tempered to start a fight she couldn’t win.

Carlotta looked at the acolytes around her.

Crumpled her notes in her fist.

“I’ve a better notion with what to do with them,” she murmured.

And drawing back her fist, Lotti slammed it into Jessamine’s jaw.

The redhead flew back off her chair, a look of almost comic shock on her face. Lotti fell atop her, flailing and spitting, her usually stoic facade shattered to pieces. She grabbed Jessamine’s throat, slammed her head back against the stone and proceeded to try and feed the girl her sodden notes as Jessamine thrashed and kicked. The pair tumbled about in a flurry of curses and sopping pages. Jessamine landed a hook on Carlotta’s jaw, Lotti smashed her notes into the redhead’s nose, the wet crunch making Mia wince.

There were no Shahiid present—nobody to break up the brawl. Diamo seemed to arrive at the same conclusion Mia and Ash did, stepping into the fray and pulling Carlotta and Jessamine apart. Lotti was thrashing and bucking, cursing hard enough to make the most hardened sailor give up the game and become an Ironpriest. But Jessamine was insane with rage, face twisted, nose gushing, slicking her lips and chin with blood. She clawed at the air, bucking in Diamo’s grip, eyes locked on Carlotta.

“You’re dead, bitch,” she spat. “You hear me? Dead!”

“Let her go!” Carlotta roared at Diamo. “Let her go!”

“I’m going to feed you your fucking heart! I’m going to g—”

“ENOUGH!”

The bellow brought stillness to the seething mass of acolytes, and all eyes turned. Mia saw Ash’s brother Osrik standing on the bench, cheeks blotched with rage.

“What in the Maw’s name is wrong with you two? We’re disciples of Niah, not fucking braavi. We stand in the house of a goddess. Show some damned respect!”

Osrik’s