Shadows lengthened into evening, the cheery lights of the Eaves brightened, and Lapis anxiously glanced between the front and back from her perch at the reading table. Patch had yet to return, and whenever she decided to leave and run to the ex-rebel safehouse to check on him, to see what he left of Meinrad and Rambart, Rin and Dachs eyed her into keeping her seat.
Why had Rin not stayed and helped with the move? He made certain the enthusiastic rats who took advantage of the outrageous offer by Lady Thais would listen to Linz and do as they said, then returned to the Eaves. Considering the number of urchins and Lord Adrastos personnel who showed up to pack crates and cart them to the wagons, they would make quick work of packing, despite the interference by the overwrought First Sister who did not want her star doctor to walk. A silver for a speedy day’s work should have enticed him to remain there.
Which meant that someone, whether Patch or her brother, had told him to keep her company. It irritated her he said nothing about what prompted their worry.
She, as a seasoned chaser, could protect herself against whatever scum Meinrad and Rambart threw at her. Had she not proven it?
Gorging on annoyance, she planted her hands on the tabletop, hefted herself up, strode to the bar, and set her teacup down with a firm ting. Dalia whisked out of the kitchen and smiled sweetly before snagging the item and making her another drink. That irritated her more. Everyone but she, in on whatever it was.
Whatever it was? No, she glumly figured, once Rin reappeared, that both Patch and Faelan wanted her in company for her safety. After all, those hunters she and Dagby took down roamed the streets, justice denied because a noble wanted them free. She had noticed the rebels atop the Eaves, looking idle but intently watching the crowds, and she doubted the tavern becoming a central point for the Jiy House prompted the security.
A small group entered the front door, louder compared to the quiet that had settled among the regulars. A slow night, especially without the kids reading and making noise at the back table. Dachs heartily welcomed them, though not with his typical enthusiasm. Suspicion kept rebels alive, she supposed.
Dani brought her the cup, and she smiled. The aroma of spicy tea, combined with the warmth, made her smile. Nothing better, on a cold night. She turned, sipped, glanced up, and sprayed it over the middle-aged man next to her.
“Oh, Carnival, I’m so sorry!” she squeaked. The man shook his head and grabbed the hand she held out to his dripping chest.
“No, it’s fine,” he whispered in agonized disbelief. Then half-laughed, continuing to shake his head. “Jarosa,” he said with amused disgust.
“Jarosa?”
“She told me to visit the Eaves, hang out,” he said as Dachs passed him a wetted towel, glowing with respect. She again wondered what position he once held in the rebel cause, that he recognized Istak’s public name. Common Jilvaynan rebels rarely knew the leaders in nearby communities, let alone Wolf Collaborate countries.
He took the cloth with a quick grin, then settled his hand against the side of her head—his sign of great affection. “Melanthe, how did you escape?” he whispered.
“Stars’ luck.” She swallowed. Another rebel leader from her past, happy that a Nicodem survived the slaughter. Emotions welled, and she tamped down, hard, because if she responded to the tears pricking his green eyes, she might not stop sobbing. “Um, you’re in luck. The street rats aren’t here tonight, so there’s plenty of room at the back table.” Hopefully they mistook her raspiness as a reaction to the chilly night, rather than pain.
“Street rats?” one of his companions asked. Lapis remembered her, and by her watery smile, she recognized her as well. Moxie, with the sleek brown hair that gleamed, no matter the light.
“I teach them to read, as long as they’re willing to put in the effort,” she said. “It gives them a skill they can use to get off the streets and into a better job.” She waved her hand at an extremely curious Rin. “Like Rinan here. He’s my apprentice ‘keeper and chaser-in-training. Rin, would you mind, getting Faelan? Tell him Carnival’s arrived.”
“Aye,” he said, jumping up and wheeling out the doorway leading to the back stairwell. He would take the tunnels, a faster route to the rebel House. She did not envy the barrage of questions her brother would endure from the over-curious lad.
“If you want anythin’, we’ve food and drink. It’s cold out, so we’re servin’ hot tea and wake juice,” Dachs said.
“Wake juice, please,” Carnival said. “The more, the better.”
“And this is Dachs. He used to be a ‘keeper for my brother.” That should confirm his trustworthiness to the wary. Carnival shook his hand with a warm smile, as charming as she remembered.
Lapis led them to the back table as the tall man brushed the towel over his buttoned vest. He dressed his lively best; dark hunter green duster with large lapels and cuffs, striped green and purple vest, bright green shirt with collar standing up, a matching purple scarf circling his neck over it, black pants and knee-high, shined black boots with thick soles. All that green reflected in his eyes, making them spring to life, an attractive accompaniment to his dusky brown hair which fell in shaggy strands to the middle of his back. He only missed his top hat, a splendid black affair with another purple scarf circling the base.
Jarosa told her he dressed the jester and went by Carnival on purpose. She always admired, he went out in public like that, grinning at the subdued disapproval for the look.
Had Patch met him? They shared a similar love for wake juice.
“I’m surprised you remember me,” Carnival began as he tossed the cloth onto the table. She cast him a lidded look; his companions snickered in response. He cleared his throat and wiggled his brows before taking a seat.
“I’m the one who should say that,” she intimated as she slipped onto the bench against the wall and carefully set her teacup on the saucer. While he had visited Nicodem, he did so with less frequency than Jarosa. Why remember a child he interacted with on maybe a dozen visits?
“You inherited your mother’s look,” Moxie said, sitting next to the rebel. With brown hair, eyes, and clothing, she dressed the opposite of her loud leader. Oddly, Lapis never considered her subdued in his company because her bright laughter echoed his attire. “And the resemblance between you and your brother is stark.”
She did not think so, but others did not agree. “This is a good time of year to visit,” she said. “Fools and Ghouls holiday is in the next few days.”
“Perfect,” Moxie said with approval. Istak glanced at her with a raised eyebrow and she grinned widely. “Maybe he’ll do a magic trick or two.”
The man was exceptional at sleight of hand—something the rats would appreciate. “I loved when he pulled Airbelle out of the air,” she admitted. “And I even practiced his little dance bow.”
Only Carnival did not laugh; he looked humorously morose.
“Well, Jarosa said to get my ass here, a not-to-miss experience,” he said.
“I don’t think she was specifically thinking of me.” Giant lizards and metal half-man, half-horse, though?
“Perhaps, but I think this surprise is one I’ll cherish far past the others.”
“You and Jarosa both have such fond memories of me?”
His twinkle-eyed amusement concerned her. “You, of all your siblings, were the most curious and daring. The exasperation your parents felt when they related your adventures was real, but they always lit up when they whispered about them. I think, perhaps, they saw their own bravery reflected in you.”
“Not Faelan?”
“Faelan’s a leader through and through,” he admitted. “So he’s brave, just not in the same way.”
A head-sized flask of wake juice that smelled stronger than body odor hit the table next to her and Patch flumped down at her side, nonchalant, and her curiosity churned into overdrive. What had happened with Meinrad and Rambart, that he returned so relaxed? Instead of the questions, she eyed the juice with annoyance. How long did he plan to stay up that night? Gerrit strolled past and planted himself against the wall between the edge of the bench and the door, regarding the new arrivals with subdued curiosity.
Carnival leaned forward, brightly delighted; Moxie and his other companions groaned. “Where’d you get that?” he asked.
“NO!” Moxie said firmly.
Patch grinned and patted the transparent glass. “Fished Out in the Lells. Don’t want to drink all that Dachs has.”
“Tell them you want wake juice like Patch gets,” Lapis told them. “They’ll even make it as strong as you like it.”
“Do you remember what he’s like after he’s hyped up on wake juice?” Moxie demanded, pointing her index finger imperiously at the enthusiastic rebel, her full lips pursed into an exasperated grimace.
Yes. Her father always gloated he had more fun with Istak after drinking wake juice than with anyone else after alcohol. Strangely, her mother appreciated her adventures with him when he had a tad much and needed a long walk to calm down.
“He does sleight faster?” she offered. Vague memories of him bragging on that flitted through her mind.
Carnival’s satisfied grin, compared to Moxie’s glare, sent their companions, Patch and Gerrit into chuckles.
Sweeping her hand at the visitors, she glanced at the two Jiy rebels. “May I introduce Carnival and Moxie and their entourage? Jarosa told them to hang out at the Eaves without saying why.”
“Jarosa?” Patch raised an eyebrow. “Taking lessons from Faelan?”
“I guess.” She settled her hand on his. “This is my partner, Patch, and Gerrit works for Faelan.”
“Well met,” Carnival said, planting his hand on his chest and bowing his head. “I had another assumption after reading Jarosa’s letter about why I needed to visit Jiy. But I’d much rather have this surprise.”
Dachs bustled up, wake juice and tea on the tray, stepping in time with a roar before the rats invaded the Eaves.
“Lady!” Gabby crowed, hopping to the table next to Patch as the others swarmed to their usual places, regarding the strangers with suspicion. “She owns a book as big as I am!” Flinging her arms wide, she nearly bapped Carnival; he ducked with amusement. Then she stopped, stared, and stuck her hand at him, beaming. “I’m Gabrielda, future knight and ‘keeper in training!”
“Nice to meet you, Gabrielda,” he said, shaking her hand. No hesitation, no question. “I go by Carnival.”
“Carnival? That’s an awesome name!” She pouted. “I need an awesome knightly name.”
“I think Gabrielda is a wondrous knightly name,” he said.
“Really?”
Moxie laughed. “We’re from Shaloar,” she said. “Gabrielda is one of the most famous legendary knights in our country. She’s known for battling all manner of fabled monsters and outshining her companions with how many she defeated.”
Gabby’s eyes lit.
Lapis leaned over the table, indicating her guests. “This is Carnival and Moxie and crew. Be nice. And then nicer than that. Treat them like you’d treat Jarosa.”
That produced enough wide-eyed surprise the rebels snickered.
Suspicion dwindled into awe, as the rats enjoyed Carnival’s narration of Gabrielda and the dragon-like vyrnom she battled. Lapis had listened to many of his enthusiastic fairy tale retellings as a child, and she had yet to meet a more entertaining storyteller. She did smile when he produced objects out of thin air to coincide with the story; too many of the pickpockets studied his hands after the first time he pulled a shiny button out of nowhere. Too bad for them, his misdirection won over their interest.
“Always with the tales, Carnival,” Jarosa sighed. Lapis glanced at the back doorway; Jarosa and Faelan stood there, watching with smiles, Rin with sharp interest.
“What’s a jester without a tale?” he asked before downing the remainder of his juice.
“At least this jester,” Moxie said.
“Jesters have always used stories to tell hard truths,” Lapis reminded them. “Even if their kings and queens never paid them much heed.”
“Were he that serious,” Jarosa muttered, brushing back her dark curls. Lapis once considered her opposite of Carnival in every way; short of stature, somber umber stare, plain, earthen clothing, but as she aged, she realized they shared the same passion as her father for righting the wrongs Dentheria wrought on her empire, and that mattered far more than presentation.
He grinned and pushed away from the table. “My dear Jarosa, I believe we should couple seriousness with play.” He made his flourish bow, the one Lapis loved, and whisked his hand to the side; his chubby little green-feathered bird sat in his palm, cheeping merrily, before she flew to the other rebel leader and landed on her shoulder with a full-throated tweet. The kids gasped in delight, and Rin frowned. Lapis knew, he tried to figure out where the man kept the creature and how he managed to whisk it into the open without an obvious grab. Carnival, though, protected his magic secrets, even declaring he would only speak of them on his deathbed, if he were still viable to do so.
Was she the same bird? Mirettes, despite their small stature, lived long lives, and, curious after first meeting his darling Airbelle, she delved into books to find information about them. They became deeply attached to their owners and showed affection for those they liked. If they disliked someone, they would shit on them to show disdain. That had terrified her, though Istak had stressed Airbelle liked her and would never do that to her.
She had shit on Tiege, though. Her brother hated that little bird, and when he found out they lived as long as their owners, he avoided the Shaloar rebel during visits. He never understood why Lapis, over-enthusiastic, had rushed to pet her rather than hide and watch the sky with dread.
Jarosa smiled and nuzzled the cutie, who happily rubbed against her cheek. “I’m surprised Airbelle still puts up with you.”
“She’s an adventuresome spirit, like I am.”
“Her feathers are so pretty,” Gabby breathed. True, they had a metallic gleam to them, and depending on the light, they shifted to a bluer hue. Airbelle tweeted, as if she realized the rat complimented her.
Carnival and his people had arrived by horse and rented stalls at a nearby stable, and needed to retrieve them. Jarosa led them out the front with a wave to Dachs. Lapis glanced at Faelan, who remained at the door, a small smile lighting his face.
“He said Jarosa told him to come to the Eaves and hang out.”
“I’m surprised, she took that route. She’s typically more careful than that.”
“I know it’s a shock, but—”
“A shock?” Faelan cocked his head, then shook it. His gaze drifted to the rats, and he leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. “So, Caitria’s upstairs in Rin’s room,” he said. The urchins’ eyes darted to him. “If you want her to hold on to your silver, go talk to her. We’ll start an account for each one of you, like Linz promised.”
Lapis glanced at Patch as the rats leaped up and raced to the stairs, Gabby in the lead. The ones who kept money in her room stayed, and she realized she needed to find separate hiding places for all their wealth. Or perhaps she should write their names on the bags to differentiate whose pay sat within.
“You’re keeping their bits?” Patch asked Faelan.
“Linz told them she’d look into starting something like a bank account for them,” he said. “It’s not exactly safe to have silver in your cubby.”
“Is why the Lady puts our take in her room,” Rin said as he wandered over to Lyet and plopped down. “He’s Carnival?” he asked, and by their reactions, the rest of the rats drowned in curiosity.
“He is,” Faelan said. “He’s an act unto himself. Ask Lanth. She loved watching him perform.”
“I did.” She smoothed the top of her head. “But don’t upset Airbelle. If you do, she’ll dive down and use your head as a restroom.”
The pop-eyed disgust caused her brother to chuckle. “You remember Tiege.”
“She hated him.”
“It was his own fault. He didn’t think she had a brain, and he didn’t expect her to remember him teasing her. She did, and responded accordingly.” He jerked his chin up and disappeared around the door; she, Patch and Gerrit followed him to her room.
