Page 82 of The Space Between Stars

“Seems counter-productive to a secret organization.”

“Not one that’s actively recruiting.”

“That contradicts what you told me only a month ago,” she scoffed. “To not speak about the Shadewalker to anyone.”

“That’s because I know you. You don’t spread petty gossip. You try to ask the wrong people questions that make you look suspicious.”

“Suspicious?”

“Suspicious. Like you’ll take any inch of thread they give you and have them hog-tied with it by sundown.”

Attilatia tried not to read too far into that.

“The Ghosts wear the ratka. They proliferate the Shadewalker’s stories, and in return they receive security for their families.”

“What kind of security?”

“Work. Food. Shelter. Medicine. Wealth like you couldn’t conceive. The Shadewalker has recruited men from all walks of life. He has his hands in the oligarchy, the slums, the moss trade, the water supply into Shrokan—”

Attilatia raised a skeptical eyebrow. “The flow of milk from every mother’s tit?”

“I say this without exaggeration.” As of yet, she wasn’t aware Pinto could speak without exaggeration. “They’ve even recruited the raiders and united them under one flag.”

Year: 745 Post Cataclysm: 4 years previously

Location: Casowhatan Sea

The Captain of the Kanter Breach eyed Fankalo warily. “I know why you’re here. And I will not bow to an ill-mannered teenage gangster.”

“Ill-mannered? Forgive me for not raising my hand. I’ve been too busy raising an army.”

“The answer is no. The Kanter Breach has always lived independently.”

“And you have always died independently.”

He shook his head. “I will pay no tithings to a queen in return for protection.”

“Then pay none. You may keep your autonomy and your hauls. I am offering only to put Nelfindar’s border patrol in your pocket. I will grant you protection from persecution for any of your raids, so long as they come without casualties.”

His eyes narrowed. “All things come with a cost.”

“Indeed. The cost is impossibly lavish, and impossibly cheap. You bear my name, you bear my mark, and you and your crew perpetuate, embellish, and sensationalize talk of the Shadewalker to anyone who will listen.”

The captain’s eyebrows snapped together as understanding dawned—they were all in on the ruse.

She had him.

“I will listen.”

“Nelfindar is a stage set for change, and the Shadewalker is a keynote,” Pinto said. “It is not a matter of if, but when the oligarchy burns. And my bet is that it is the Shadewalker, not the Groundlings, who will rise from the ashes.”

Attilatia remembered Roskaad’s words before he left for the Jiradesh. When Nelfindar changes, I want you fighting on my side. They’d chilled her then. Now they had her on ice. Don’t drink the wine.

She paced the length of the doll shelves, glass eyes following her as she went. This was not the sort of information a man freely shared.

“Why—” She stopped. Sucked at her teeth. Rubbed her fingers together. “Why are you telling me all this?”

Pinto’s gaze buttoned her into place. “Because I want you to trust me when I tell you the truth.”