laughed his horrible courtier’s laugh. “Fairly good, since Vertus runs three quarters of the black market in New Highfall. A better question is how a judgmental prude like you has made two such interesting friends,” and Nate had said, pointedly, that they were not friends, and never would be.
As Firo inspected the vials, Nate emptied the sack. Inside he found a supply of empty vials, as well as good, soft flour, butter, cheese, some meat that looked like goat, and a pile of decent-looking root vegetables. There were also three smaller, very well-wrapped packages: one sugar, the other two candy. Chocolate caramels and glazed cherries. Cherries were long out of season. They smelled like sunlight and open air and freedom.
Firo watched Nate’s deep inhalation with some amusement. “A funny world we live in now, magus. The confectioner’s trade is as illicit as yours. Speaking of secrets, how is our little dark horse these days?”
Nate, feeling like he’d been caught doing something salacious—Firo made him feel that way about almost everything—rewrapped the candy. “Not that it’s any of your business, but she’s fine.”
“I’ll take your word for it. At least somebody’s been eating all those lovely sweets, and it’s clearly not you.” Firo surveyed Nate critically. Nate knew he was thinner—every day his bones seemed to emerge further from his flesh—but he didn’t like being looked at by Firo, no matter the motivation. Suddenly, Firo laughed. “Dark horse! To think, all the time and lovely talk I wasted on her, and all I needed to do was offer her a sugar cube.”
Nate scowled, but said nothing. Firo shrugged. “Speaking of treats, I ought to be getting on. The longer Vertus waits, the smaller our cut gets. Poverty makes my William cranky,” he added fondly.
“So treats work on him, as well?” Nate didn’t bother to keep the nastiness from his voice.
“Loving somebody who loves you back isn’t such a terrible thing, magus. You ought to try it sometime,” Firo said, his voice full of cool pity. Then he left.
* * *
Nate tried to get Bindy to take some of the black market food. “Some candy, if nothing else. For Canty, and the other littles,” he said.
At the mention of her brother’s name, Bindy looked wistful. Canty spent his days in the factory crèche now, being cared for by women too old or pregnant to work. Nate knew she missed him. He did, too. “I ought not to,” she said. “If Rina found out, she’d turn you in. Anyway, magus, we don’t need food. We’re okay. But I’ll take some for Darid, if you don’t mind.”
As always, Nate felt an irrational stab of fury on hearing her brother’s name, but he was careful not to let it show. “What does Rina think of Darid, then?”
“He’s not staying with us. Ma says it’s best not to talk about him when she’s around. Rina’s done really well on the factory committee. She’s got a talent for it,” she added loyally. Then, “Sign my papers, magus?” The crèche wouldn’t let Bindy pick Canty up unless Nate signed her off as having worked a full day. Once, when he’d lost track of time inside and Nora had been working the long shift, Canty had spent nearly two days there. Now Nate signed a few days in advance.
After Bindy took food for her brother, and some was put aside for Judah and the others inside, there was still enough for Nate and Charles. They’d have to manage somewhat carefully, since he’d surely end up trading away the new vouchers like he had the old, but neither of them had much appetite these days. While the goat stewed, Nate made a Slonimi pan bread that baked up warm and pillowy in an iron pan on the stove. For flavor he used the last of his supply of a particular spice that he’d brought with him across the Barriers, and not seen since. The smell of it brought Charles downstairs to the table. When he tore open his share of the bread, steam rose from the soft interior. Charles inhaled deeply. But then, instead of eating, he put the two torn pieces back on his plate with exaggerated care.
“I’m leaving, Nate,” he said.
“Because I make the drops?” He knew Charles didn’t like what he did for Vertus, but he hadn’t thought it was so bad.
“No. The drops don’t bother me. I mean, I want them like I want my next breath, but I prefer to be in my right mind.”