The final living man pulled the trigger. It clacked, empty. His hands were shaking so much, he dropped the gun.
“We’re trying to protect our kingdom,” he stammered, his blond hair now out of place, “from tyrants like you.”
With a smile, I took another step closer. When my sword cut through his throat, my blood started to sing. There was the thrill again.
I turned back to my new friend, Alfred. I could smell the stench of his urine from here, and he gripped his pen like it was a lifeline.
I pointed my sword at his neck. “Where is the Mysterium Liber?”
He rasped, “We are the Free Men,” and finding some hidden well of strength, he threw his pen at me with a little yelp.
I smirked. Unfortunately for him, the pen is not actually mightier than the sword.
Asmodai cleaved his traitorous head in two, and the glory of the kill spilled up my arms, a warm light on my body.
I sheathed my sword , my exhilaration replaced with disappointment.
This had been nothing but an ambush, and I was no closer to finding the Mysterium Liber.
I crossed outside into the rain, hoping it would wash some of the blood off me. When I showed up at the Bibliotek Music Hall, I didn’t want to arrive soaked in gore.
My dreams had told me I’d be looking for a woman going by the name of Zahra.
4
Lila
I shoved my way through the crowd, trying to crouch down to escape the eye-line of the Rough Boys.
I loved nearly everything about the music hall, except for the guards. They allowed any old creep into the floor level—the drunks, the thieves like me.
But when it came to the upper stories? You had to actually be somebody. The mezzanine above me was for high class courtesans, singers, musicians, actors, writers, landlords, merchants. My best friend Zahra worked up there.
And to sit in a box on the upper floor—you’d need to be a duke or something. I’d heard rumors that bookshelves lined all the walls and people feasted on roast chickens and fresh strawberries while servants brought them drinks. You could pay to watch all kinds of depravities, while drinking claret from crystal goblets.
They’d never let me up there.
But neither would they allow entry to lowlife Rough Boys, would they? That was the only part of the club where I’d be untouchable.
If I could get up there, I’d be golden. Totally, completely safe.
The song changed, and a swell of horns filled the hall. With elbows flying out to either side, I shoved my way to the stairwell. And all the way, I was scanning the crowd for Zahra.
A line of guards stood before the stairs, dressed in navy button-down shirts, hair slicked back. They looked sleek as anything, except for the pot bellies. All of them had pistols.
“I need to get through, please, it’s important.”
One of them snorted audibly, then stared down at me. “Don’t think so. The mezzanine is not for lowlifes.”
“Beg your pardon.” As I stole a glance over my shoulder, I saw with a flicker of relief that the three Rough Boys had already got themselves into a fight with a group of men. They seemed to have interpersonal issues.
“I’ve got Rough Boys after me, and they want to cut off my nose,” I said.
“Not our problem, is it?”
Then—like an angel descending from the heavens—my best friend appeared on the stairs behind them.
Her dark curls draped over a shimmering cream gown. “Lila? What’s going on?”
“Zahra! I need your help. I’ve got Rough Boys on my back. Can you convince the guards to let me up?”
“Not happening!” One of the guards barked. “Only courtesans and clients.”
“What If I was a courtesan for an hour?” I offered.
Zahra nodded. “She can take my shift.”
“Thank you, Zahra.” I heaved a sigh of relief.
“What, you?” asked one of the guards. “You look like a drowned rat. And I doubt you know what you’re doing. Doubt Ernald wants you working on an upper floor.”
“Zahra will fix me up.”
Zahra reached through the line of guards toward me. “You have nothing to worry about. Ernald won’t mind.”
I wasn’t entirely sure that was true, and I’d make a terrible courtesan.
But when I looked behind, I saw that the Rough Boys had spotted me, and they were running right for me.
“And she’ll give you her earnings,” Zahra promised the guards.
The worst thing about being poor was that you found yourself getting into increasingly terrible deals to try to get out of the last terrible deal. Start with a