Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle #1) - Jay Kristoff Page 0,139

Their predations wore at trade, cut into profits, and it seemed no amount of Luminatii raids could permanently remove them.

It was a newly elected senator, Julius Scaeva, who first proposed the notion of giving more powerful braavi gangs—such as those who control the docks and warehouse districts of Godsgrave—an official stipend from the Republic’s coffers. He argued that it would be cheaper to pay the thugs than organize an official police force to combat them, and that the gangs themselves would benefit from a period of stability. Scaeva financed the first payment from his own personal fortune, and was rewarded virtually overnight with an astonishing drop in the crime rates of the Nethers. This saw his popularity skyrocket—among the merchants who plied trade through the docks, the citizens who had previously been caught up in the wars between the Luminatii and braavi, and from the thugs themselves, who rather enjoyed being paid for simply getting paid. It was after this coup that Scaeva first came to be known among the mob as “Senatum Populiis”—the People’s Senator.

The names his opponents called him behind closed doors, of course, were far less flattering.

But only when the doors were firmly closed.

CHAPTER 25

SKIN

Two weeks later, everything began to change.

The flock was gathered for mornmeal as usual. Mia’s head was fuzzy after hours working on Spiderkiller’s formula. Carlotta spent the entire meal working in her salvaged notebook on the Shahiid’s quandary, barely speaking a word. She’d been pulling late hours in the Hall of Truths to make up for the destruction of her work, her eyes bloodshot and bruised. And though Lotti didn’t speak of it, her feud with Jessamine hung in the air like poison. Ashlinn filled the gaps with talk about some new beau she’d found last trip to Godsgrave; a senator’s son who apparently talked about his father’s business in his sleep.

As the acolytes were shuffling from the Sky Altar, Mia saw Shahiid Aalea take Tric aside, speak to him in hushed tones. Beneath the ink, Mia saw the boy’s face visibly pale. He seemed set to argue, but Aalea cut his protests off at the knees with a smile as sharp as gravebone.

The turn’s lesson was in the Hall of Songs, and Solis had been focusing on the art of ranged weaponry over the last few lessons. A series of strawman targets were suspended from the ceiling by oiled iron chains. Standing an acolyte in the sparring circle, Solis equipped them with crossbows or throwing knives, and instructed their fellows to swing the targets at their backs and heads. The strawmen were heavy enough to knock you flying if they struck home, and not getting clobbered by one proved solid motivation indeed. Mia was just grateful that a switch from sparring matches meant a break from serving as Jessamine’s training dummy, but in this particular game, she discovered she had an advantage her fellows didn’t.

The realization came as she took her place in the circle, throwing knives held in her teeth. As Mia tied her long hair back in a braid, Diamo seized the opportunity to catch her unawares, sent his strawman sailing soundlessly at her exposed back. But though she couldn’t see the target rushing toward her spine, somehow, she could still sense it incoming. Stepping aside, she perforated the strawman with three knives, turned on Diamo with a withering scowl.

The boy blew her a kiss.

As more targets had come sailing toward her from the other acolytes, Mia managed to dodge each and every one. Perhaps it was because the dark here had never known sunslight. But Mia realized that even without seeing them, she could feel them.

She could feel their shadows.

Mia managed to avoid every target during her time in the circle. Moving like a breeze among the strawmen, knives singing, grateful she’d finally found something in Solis’s hall she excelled at. She’d heard no word from Chronicler Aelius about his search for a tome that unlocked the mysteries of the darkin. There’d been no sign of Lord Cassius since her torture session in Godsgrave. But slowly, surely, she was discovering more about her gift. A smile curled her lips, and remained there until about halfway through the lesson, when Tric took his place in the circle and Marcellus hit him square in the back with a flying strawman.

Marco flashed a smile (much improved by the weaver, Mia thought) and bowed.

“You’ll have to be quicker than that, Tricky.”

Tric picked himself up off the ground and growled. “You want to wait