“I left you alone for thirty minutes and you were outsmarted by a bartender and two mercenaries.” Her mood perked slightly at the sullen look that flitted across his face. Ana leaned forward, mirroring his pose. They were barely an arm’s length from each other. “Why did they kidnap you? Who’s hunting you?”
“I told you. It’s the mark of an excellent crime lord to have many enemies.”
“It’s also the mark of an excellent crime lord to be able to defeat his enemies.” Ana leveled an even gaze on him. “You need me. You need my Affinity. I’m your Trade. And I’ll only uphold it if you help me.”
Ramson ran a hand through his hair. “If you want to save May, we may not make it in time to find your alchemist. Whose name and location I now have, by the way.”
He’d stolen the breath from her again. Yet Ana found herself leaning forward, reeled in by his line. “Where is he? Why won’t we make it?”
“The only way we can find him,” Ramson said, “is if we arrive in Novo Mynsk before the Fyrva’snezh. There’s an event that we should…attend.”
“Novo Mynsk,” she repeated breathlessly. “That’s where they’re taking May. They’re going to make her perform at a place called the Playpen.”
“Who told you?”
“The yaeger—the Whitecloak.”
“Ah,” Ramson said slowly. “That…complicates things quite a bit.”
“It doesn’t. Our destination is Novo Mynsk.”
Ramson sighed. “There is a name you should know. Alaric Kerlan. Remember it well.”
That name again. The Gray Bear’s Keep bartender had said it. He’d called him “Lord,” but there was something more alarming, something that hadn’t clicked until now—
“Alaric Kerlan,” she whispered. “You mean A. E. Kerlan? The founder of the Goldwater Trading Group?” It was a name most nobles in the Cyrilian Empire were familiar with. Ana had read entire tomes of Cyrilian history with the Goldwater Trading Group lauded as a turning point for Cyrilia’s modern economy. Yet for the greatest businessman in the Empire, A. E. Kerlan remained reclusive. The most anyone knew of him was that he was a nobody who had come from the gutters of Bregon and single-handedly built a thriving trading route between the then-run-down Goldwater Port and the rest of the world.
Caution flickered in Ramson’s eyes. “Yes,” he admitted, “but also the most powerful Affinite broker in the Empire.”
“What?” Her world tilted. Ana gripped her arm, nails digging into flesh. “You’re lying.” The words came out sharp as shards of glass.
The founder of the Goldwater Trading Group—the largest business corporation in the Cyrilian Empire—an Affinite broker?
“I assure you, there are plenty of times I’ve lied to you, but this is not one of them,” Ramson answered, deadpan.
Something in her was unraveling, her image of her empire crumbling into pieces and rearranging themselves into something sinister and strange and utterly unfamiliar. “How do you know?”
It sounded like such a naïve question. Did everyone around her know?
Had Papa known?
“It’s my vocation to know things,” Ramson said. “Now, as I was saying, Kerlan is the complication to our plan.” He reached for her rucksack and fumbled through it, producing her map. With a flourish, he held it up and pointed. “Novo Mynsk is Kerlan’s territory. If May is being carted there, the broker must be under Kerlan’s Order. You say she’s going to perform at the Playpen? That is owned by Kerlan. And it just so happens that your alchemist is a close associate of his.”
It was a struggle to bring her focus back to him. Ana tamped down the maelstrom of her thoughts, clearing her mind. She could think about her broken world later. Right now her sole objective was to save May. “So what’s the complication?” she asked wearily. “We’ll rescue May, and then locate the alchemist.”
Ramson continued as though he hadn’t heard her. “Kerlan hosts the grandest ball for the Fyrva’snezh each year. All of his associates—all the crime lords and thieves and traffickers in the Empire—will make an appearance. And that includes your alchemist.” He gave her a pointed look. Her stomach tightened. “I can get us into this ball. But it’s going to be difficult. Dangerous, even.” Ramson’s tone held a challenge. “Are you ready for that?”
She’d been waiting for this for nearly twelve long moons. Ana leveled a cool gaze at Ramson. “I am.” She jabbed a finger at the map. “So that means we’ll have to find May before the Fyrva’snezh.”
Ramson lowered the map. “You can’t have it both ways. Rescuing May at the Playpen is