[Gentlemen Bastards 02] Red Seas Under Read Skies by Scott Lynch Read Free Book Online Page A

backs against one another.
    “No closer,” shouted Locke. “Cut the weird shit, or there’s going to be blood!”
    “There has already been blood…,” said the little girl.
    “Locke Lamora…,” muttered a soft chorus of the people surrounding them.
    “There has already been blood, Locke Lamora,” said the middle-aged woman.
    The last alchemical lanterns within the periphery of the Night Market dimmed; the last few fires banked down, and now Locke and Jean faced the circle of merchants solely by the wan light coming from the inner harbor, and from the eerie flicker of distant lamps beneath the vast, deserted Gallery, much too far away for comfort.
    The little girl took one last step toward them, her eyes gray and unblinking.
    “Master Lamora, Master Tannen,” she said in her clear, soft voice, “the Falconer of Karthain sends his regards.”
    6
    LOCKE STARED at the little girl, jaw half-open. She glided forward like an apparition, until just two paces separated them. Locke felt a pang of foolishness at holding a stiletto on a girl not yet three feet high, but then she smiled coldly in the near darkness, and the malice behind that smile steadied his hand on the hilt of the blade. The little girl reached up to touch her chin.
    “Though he cannot speak,” she said.
    “Though he cannot speak for himself…,” chorused the circle of merchants, now motionless in the darkness.
    “Though he is mad,” said the girl, slowly spreading her hands toward Locke and Jean, palms out.
    “Mad beyond measure…,” whispered the circle.
    “His friends remain,” said the girl. “His friends remember.”
    Jean moved beside Locke, and then both of his hatchets were out, blackened steel heads naked to the night. “These people are puppets. There are Bondsmagi somewhere around us,” he hissed.
    “Show yourselves, you fucking cowards!” said Locke, speaking to the girl.
    “We show our power,” she replied.
    “What more do you need?” whispered the chorus in their ragged circle, their eyes empty as reflecting pools.
    “What more do you need to see, Master Lamora?” The little girl gave a sinister parody of a curtsy.
    “Whatever you want,” said Locke, “leave these people out of it. Just fucking talk to us. We don’t want to hurt these people.”
    “Of course , Master Lamora….”
    “Of course…,” whispered the circle.
    “Of course, that’s the point ,” said the girl. “So you must hear what we have to say.”
    “State your gods-damned business, then.”
    “You must answer,” said the girl.
    “Answer for the Falconer,” said the chorus.
    “You must answer. Both of you.”
    “Of all the… fuck you !” said Locke, his voice rising to a shout. “We did answer for the Falconer. Our answer was ten lost fingers and a lost tongue, for three dead friends. You got him back alive and it was more than he deserved!”
    “Not for you to judge,” hissed the girl.
    “…judge the Magi of Karthain…,” whispered the circle.
    “Not for you to judge, nor for you to presume a grasp of our laws,” said the girl.
    “All the world knows it’s death to slay a Bondsmage,” said Jean. “That, and little else. We let him live and took pains to return him to you. Our business is ended. If you wanted a more complicated treatment than that, you should have sent a fucking letter.”
    “This is not business,” said the girl.
    “But personal,” said the circle.
    “Personal,” repeated the girl. “A brother has been blooded; we cannot let this stand unanswered.”
    “You sons of bitches,” said Locke. “You really think you’re fucking gods, don’t you? I didn’t mug the Falconer in an alley and take his purse. He helped murder my friends! I’m not sorry he’s mad and I’m not sorry for the rest of you! Kill us and get on with your business, or piss off and let these people go free.”
    “No,” said the scorpion merchant. A whispered chorus of “no” came from around the circle.
    “Cowards.