those two secrets cost you?” Ramson raised his brows and shrugged.
Bogdan’s face was red. Ramson could practically see the gears working in his head as he weighed the costs and benefits of the Trade. “Fine,” he hissed. “But after this, I want no more dealings with you, Quicktongue. After this, I’m done.” The entertainer punctuated his sentence with a furious jab of his finger.
Ramson held two fingers to his chest and drew a circle. “I swear in the name of the Deities and all that is holy within me, my good man.”
“Oh, cut the shit. What’s the third condition?”
“There’s a young girl in Kerlan’s inventory; an earth Affinite. Caught by the Whitecloaks from Kyrov. Sound familiar?”
Bogdan’s eyes narrowed and he frowned, presumably running through the script of his upcoming shows. “Yes,” he said at last, the words lending Ramson relief. “She’s due to perform in three days. Look, I can’t just give her to you. Kerlan’ll kill—”
“I know. I understand the rules.” He’d hoped otherwise, but Kerlan ran his business tight. “I’m not asking you to give her to me. In three days’ time, I’m going to bid for her contract. And you’re going to rig the bids. In my favor.”
“Hum.” Bogdan scratched his chin, evidently appeased at the prospect of more money. “I suppose that can be done. I’ll have to make some arrangements, but…fine. Very well, then.” He gave a lofty sniff. “And the fourth?”
Ramson leaned in. “I want to ask about your Windwraith,” he said softly, and began to unspool the words that would weave the final pieces of his plan into place. When he held out his hand to shake, his peacoat was half a pouch of goldleaves lighter, and he had one last stop to make for the night.
“Trade up,” said Ramson.
“Trade up,” echoed Bogdan.
They shook.
* * *
—
Ramson chose to walk back through the Dams. A man like him was meant to crawl in the shadows of this world, without a light and without hope for anything better. Jonah had been right, after all this time—the world that the orphans and bastard sons and street rats were born into was not one of goodness and kindness. The world was divided into the conquerors and the conquered; those with power cast aside those without, like pawns on a chessboard.
When Jonah had died, Ramson had sworn on his friend’s soul that he would never be one of the pawns.
If Ramson’s plan succeeded, he would no longer be a pawn in Kerlan’s shadow. Kerlan would be dead, and Ramson would be running the show on the proverbial throne of the greatest business enterprise in Cyrilia.
All those years of watching from the sidelines, of chasing after his father’s distant shadow, of whispers of packsaddle son and bastard, finally, overturned. And Jonah’s legacy, fulfilled.
Live for yourself.
This is for you, Jonah, he thought, with a glance at the sky—overcast, just like that night with the storm and the boat and that calm, thin voice by his ear.
Still, even after he exited the Dams he couldn’t shake the small twinge of regret that clung to him. Ana would be reunited with May, and they would go far, far away to someplace where they could be free.
Something about him changed when he was with Ana. The darkness, the scheming, the cold calculation in him faded, revealing faint traces of what he’d once been. A boy in love with the ocean. A boy who’d wanted to sail the seas forever, with the sun warming his back and the waves lapping at his hands. He’d forgotten about this boy, one who’d had big dreams and foolish hopes and had been good. The boy who’d become the smallest sliver of hope.
But what good was goodness itself, when the world was ruled by the cruel?
Ramson drew a deep breath, and only when he was near the tavern where he was staying did he take off his mask again. The man he had become in the Dams tonight, dead-eyed and merciless and calculating, was a side of him that he never wanted Ana to see.
Ramson returned to the inn in the early hours of the dawn, when the sun was just rising over the red-shingled roofs and glittering marble mansions of Novo Mynsk. Ana shut her eyes resolutely, pretending to be asleep as he unlocked the door to her room with the spare key he held. She sensed him standing at her doorway for a while, and then like a shadow, he was gone.