time you ask me to get more creative.”
Bogdan stared at him for several moments with revulsion. “Fine,” he snarled at last. “Name your Trade.”
Ramson smiled like a cat in the sun. People were so easy, so predictable. He hadn’t really hired an assassin. After all, those cost more than a shiny silverleaf and were difficult to book the night of. Murders were quite the economy in Novo Mynsk. No—sometimes the belief of danger was more effective than danger itself. The shadow at the window had been some street rat he’d found skulking by one of the taverns, desperate and willing to brave the Dams for a mere cop’stone.
Besides, Ramson preferred not to spend coins on his jobs where possible. He’d found, over the years, that there was a more reliable method for purchase. Secrets were Ramson’s currency when it came to these dealings.
“You will tell Kerlan that I am back,” he said. With Ana’s stubborn creed to save May, Ramson had had to adjust his plan. Now that the element of surprise was no longer possible—well, he would simply announce his arrival, as loudly as he could. He’d played this game with Kerlan for too many years, and he knew the rules all too well. As long as you remained one step ahead of him, as long as you kept his interest piqued, you lived. “You will tell him to expect me at his Fyrva’snezh ball. And you will tell him that I return to offer him the largest Trade of his life.”
“And what is it that you are offering?”
Ramson almost hesitated a beat, but the words were out of his mouth already. “The Blood Witch of Salskoff.”
Bogdan’s mouth formed a small O. The hostility vanished from his face, replaced by a look of pure greed. “That’s just a myth,” he said, but his tone begged Ramson to prove him wrong.
“She’s as real as the gold in your teeth, Bogdan. Took down five guards with a sweep of her hands.”
“She’d be a fortune,” Bogdan whispered. “Worth more than the Nandjian Fire Palace. I mean…how much do you think she’s worth?”
How much is she worth? The question jarred him, and he suddenly felt sick. He thought of Ana now, of the bold dash of her mouth, the way she frowned when she was thinking, the way she’d stubbornly kept her face fierce at the Playpen when her eyes had betrayed her horror.
The way she shone like a torch in the darkness.
Something stirred inside his chest: something buried far beneath the wall he had built from the ruins of his heart. It was as though a block had shifted in his carefully built world, changing everything with it for the first time in seven long years, when he’d flung his past behind him and kept running and had never stopped to think about what he was doing with his life.
What do you want?
I told you. Revenge.
But that was no longer enough, he realized. All this time, he’d thought he held the keys to his fate when really he’d been in a cage all along. Just one of Kerlan’s puppets with a fancy title, scrambling to do his bidding and cast aside when no longer needed.
Handing Ana to Kerlan meant he was still playing the hand Kerlan had dealt him.
It was time to change the game.
“She’s worth more than you could ever imagine,” Ramson said quietly. The wheels in his mind were already turning, skipping two, three steps ahead and fanning out in the infinite possibilities that this conversation could play into. Calculating all the scenarios in which he would win, and the conditions that would allow him to.
And as he spoke, he began to weave in details for his new plan. “I want you to listen carefully, Bogdan. You’ll tell Kerlan that at this Fyrva’snezh ball, I’m going to kill my betrayer, win back my title, and hand him the most powerful Affinite known to exist.”
Bogdan swallowed. “All right.”
“There’s more,” Ramson said. “I want you to get me a list of the guests attending the event this year. You’ll find a runner boy outside your home by the seventh hour tomorrow morning. Give him the list.”
“That’s hardly any time!” Bogdan spluttered, but at a look from Ramson, he conceded. “Fine.”
“And you’ll have me added to that list. Me, and my…wife. I expect my runner to hand me the invitations along with the guest list tomorrow morning. And I’ll know if they’ve been forged, so don’t get any ideas, Bogdan.”
Bogdan looked