Page 169 of The Space Between Stars

Mitek pulled the knife free of the table again and cut Karak’s bindings. “Time for you to get out, eah?”

Karak scrambled to his feet, slipped on the blood pooled beneath the table, and sprawled across the filthy floor with a smack.

Mitek loomed over him. “And, ah, don’t make the mistake of opening your mouth. Found you once. My money’s on finding you again, should I feel inclined.” He held a leather-gloved hand to help the gangster to his feet, as if they’d just passed a good match in the ring. Karak did not take it. He scuttled on his hands until he got his feet beneath him, then dashed from the room.

Zeb cleared his throat, and Mitek turned to face them. When he noticed Fankalo, his mouth split into a smile. “Bratty!”

“Chaos’s unruly bush, Mitek. You were a fated beast.”

His grin widened and his chin lifted. “Thanks.”

“How fast do you expect he’ll open his mouth?”

Mitek flipped his knife into the air and caught it. “Faster than a shark in a bloody pond.”

“Speaking of which, where did you get all the blood?”

“Pig. Butcher just threw out the carcass. Said it got into moss runoff and the meat was tainted. I figured, better this than some unsuspecting street kid getting into it.” An early moss addiction was a death sentence.

Fankalo moved forward and dipped a finger in the substance smeared across the table. It was cold and tacky and made her nose shrivel. “A solid salvage.”

“Fucking brilliant, eah?”

She couldn’t help but smile at Mitek’s pride. He was proving to be more reliable by the minute. Now, if only she could do something about Cam… The crewman in question was openly taking a piss into the ground gutter in the room’s corner.

“I don’t know how much of that you heard,” Mitek continued, “but we’ve got a name on the dark market’s largest ruxechorin supplier.”

“Greeny, eah? I don’t think I’ve heard a more moronic moniker. Why not just go by Stabby?” Though she loved a good moron in power: they were so much easier to manipulate.

“Karak doubts he’ll budge on his holdings, though.” Apparently she’d missed that part.

“I’m sure we’ll find a way to persuade him,” Zeb grumbled through his salt-and-pepper beard, his voice scratchier than a pestle grinding stones. “Especially with the knack you’ve developed for scaring the piss out of the oligarchy’s worst.”

Mitek did make a very good Shadewalker.

“I was feeling especially inspired.” Mitek’s fingers tightened around the blade in his hand before he stashed it in the sheath on his calf. “His face was begging to be rearranged. The bastard was trafficking Shrokan orphans.”

Mitek had been a Shrokan orphan before her father found him. Fankalo didn’t know much about his early life—strange, considering how much he ran his bleeding mouth. Whenever she asked, he only made up a new stupid story.

“Speaking of which…” Mitek turned toward the far side of the room, where a curtain hung over a storage closet. He pulled it back. Two children, a boy and a girl, hugged at their knees. “It’s alright. He’s history. You’re with us now.”

The pair looked half-starved, deep hollows beneath listless eyes. They might have been only a couple years younger than Fankalo. Her stomach knotted. She was not her father. She did not invite children aboard the Rapture. Despite every argument Mitek put forth, she wouldn’t tie young lives to her path, knowing it would lead to war.

The girl’s eyes found hers and pleaded silently. Why hers, not their savior’s? Because she was a girl? Fankalo looked away. Chaos, who knew. The same fate might have befallen her too, had she lived a different life. She only had to look to Calver to know that she had been lucky.

“Ay. I’ve got something that might turn those frowns about!” Mitek pulled the girl’s hands free of her knees and uncurled her fingers, setting Karak’s purse into her palm. “That’s about four hundred silver notes. A lucky score if I’ve ever seen one. I’m thinking you rightfully own it, all things considered.”

Still the children did not move. They looked at the purse like it was a trick. Fankalo couldn’t blame them, given that the young man offering it had just threatened to flay their former captor alive.

Mitek’s smile twitched. “Ay, Cam,” he called. Cam stalked over, boots scuffing against the floor as he went. “Can you get these two into the mess? Get ‘em something to eat. I’ll make sure they’re situated soon.”

Cam grunted and tilted his head, first to the two children and then towards the door. They followed reluctantly.

Mitek turned to Fankalo. “What are you doing here? Didn’t expect to see you until we made it back to the Rapture.”

She pulled a map of Seraphinden’s Korshuva district from her pocket and unfolded it on the blood-smeared table. “Calver is having one of his episodes. If there’s a time to pay Avelius a visit, it’s now.” Calver became acutely present whenever they docked in Seraphinden. They’d had the address for over a week, but she hadn’t wanted him to follow her. With her brother now incapacitated, her Luck had all but danced at the opportunity she’d worked toward for three years. She was going to find Methu’su. She was going to learn how to distort.

Mitek and Zeb moved to stand beside her, eying the map’s circled location. “I thought you seemed especially bright-eyed,” Mitek said. “Did he finally respond to your request for an audience, then?”