Page 175 of The Space Between Stars

Fankalo chewed at her cheek. The further they went, the more her Luck clouded. She didn’t sense a disastrous outcome, but she did sense danger. Pain.

“You really think they’ll stop us before we get to the Rapture?”

“Absolutely.” His eyes darted around. “The crowd will only slow them. There aren’t guards here. And the public won’t intervene. Our best opportunity might have been to strike them down where it was quiet.”

Violence was rarely Mitek’s first vote. “The Codex?”

“I’m telling you, bits might be the only option with them. Even if you give them their cut, they won’t let us off easy after forcing a chase.”

Fankalo meditated on his words and found them to ring true with the Fate lines tightening around her. She sifted through impressions, searching for one that held the most fortuitous end to this chase. As she grabbed onto one, the path ahead became clearer with every step.

“Fuck,” Cam swore as he nearly bowled over an old woman to evade multiple sets of grabbing arms. “They tryna pick us off!”

Fankalo dropped her arm from Mitek. “I have a plan.” She veered down an alley and broke into a sprint. Wind tinted with rot and sewage fanned her face and whistled in her ears as she moved deeper into what had to be Shrokan’s least desirable substreet. And it was nearly empty.

“Brat!” Mitek barked from behind her between labored breaths. “Seclusion—bad. Witnesses—good… Brat!”

She skidded to a stop at a dead end, a cloud of dust pluming out from beneath her boots. Zeb and Cam came up next, heaving to catch their breath with hands on knees.

Mitek brought up the rear, teeth bared in a grimace, tunic sleeve already pulled back, tanka leveled behind them.

Fankalo stepped past them as a half-dozen boys covered the opening to their only exit. She had been wrong—two of them did bear tankas. The others held knives. As they stepped closer, she scanned them for their leader.

“Kashaan, where are you?” she growled.

Her Luck spiraled in warning just before something scraped down the wall beside her and landed with a soft thud. He’d taken the rooftops.

Heart pounding, she feigned indifference, pressing her fists into her hips. “Ah. Promptness. I can appreciate that.”

Kashaan leered at her. “Don’t think I ever seen a crew takin’ orders from a girl.”

“That’s probably the reason you still have all your limbs where they’re supposed to be.”

He frowned. “Give up the haul before I beat your lot bloody and keep you as a plaything.”

Fankalo’s crew shifted behind her. No one had ever taken a sexual stab at her. Not to her face, anyway. But it had only been a matter of time: she was long past the point of passing for a boy. She gave Kashaan a too-slow blink. “Oh no. An insinuation has been made at me. Quick, somebody defend this strike against my honor before I blush.”

Cam snickered, but his hands fisted.

“Your fucking funeral, eah?” Mitek sniffed, but stepped closer to her.

Zeb’s throat made a sound like a mad dog.

Kashaan pulled a knife from his belt.

Fankalo scanned her various impulses, confirming that her initial plan still retained the best outcome. “I’ll make you a deal, slumlord. A duel of leaders. No weapons. No seconds. If you win, you leave us be, but take our full haul, and we won’t fight back. No damage to your party.” She waggled her tanka-bearing forearm. “If I win, I give you five percent for your trouble, we part ways as happy friends and avoid any unnecessary discord.” Though she did love discord.

Kashaan’s eyes narrowed. “You mean fight you? With fists?”

“Will you take the deal or not?”

“I’ll have your pretty face in the dirt before you can blink. You won’t land a hit.”

She smiled and lifted her chin. “Watch me.”

She took in her opponent. The way he favored his left leg but was right-handed. Too bad for him. He held out a hand for her to shake. She took it, seeing that he planned to throw her with it the moment their fingers clasped. He could grapple.

That made two of them.