The Silver Lake by Fiona Patton Read Free Book Online

stood.
    Together, they broke for the main doors just as the priest came around the corner with a heavyset delinkos in tow. She gave a shout of alarm, but by that time they were already pelting down the steps and across the courtyard. Brax flung himself to the left away from the reaching arms of one gate guard while Spar dove under the legs of the other and then they were past the gates and disappearing into the crowded market street beyond. Ignoring the sprinkles of rain that were beginning to fall all around them, Brax allowed himself a sigh of relief as they slowed. For good or for ill, they were on their own now, but at least they were together.

    In the city’s growing shadows, the spirits stirred in gleeful anticipation. The decision had been made. They had fed from the big man’s death, just a little, but enough to grow stronger. It was almost time.

    Deep within Gol-Beyaz, Incasa flung His prophetic dice into the current, reading the streams of possibility as they fell. The spirits were naive if they thought He had no knowledge of their little spark. Like them, He’d watched it grow, flashing back and forth between four boys, each one with a different talent for creation and destruction. The next few hours would tell which would be the most useful to the spirits and to the Gods.

2
    Kemal
    THE FIRST MORNING of Havo’s Dance dawned wet and gray. The rain and hail that had begun in earnest just before dusk had beaten down on the city with such a fury that even the bravest of the sworn had fled indoors before the priest of Havo had finished singing the Evening Invocation. Not daring to return home in case the priests of Oristo had set a guard to wait for them, Brax and Spar had broken into a dilapidated rope maker’s stall in the western market, huddling together under the counter for warmth. It had been damp and cold, but it had been enough shelter to protect them throughout the night.
    Now, as a dry, rustling sound caused Spar to stir uneasily in his sleep, Brax’s eyes snapped open. The stall’s owner was a drunkard, unlikely to return until well past dawn, and no shadowy immortal danger could reach them here, but there were wharf rats on the docks that ran in packs of a hundred, feral dogs, and even people driven mad by the storm beating on their shutters all night who might choose this spot for their own refuge.
    Tucking Spar more firmly behind him, Brax worked his knife free as he stared into the darkness, but nothing moved. As the younger boy whimpered in his sleep, Brax worked one arm around him, his mind returning to their situation as it had for most of the night. They had no shine, no food, nowhere to live, and no one to protect them.
    Should have thought of that before you let Cindar die, his mind supplied coldly.
    He ignored it. What’s done was done and if the know-it-all hindsight part of his brain couldn’t come up with a solution on its own, it could just shut up and get over it.
    Scratching absently at a tiny, red bite on his ankle, he brought his mind back to the problem at hand. He could petition the local factor to allow them to work, but the factor had hated Cindar because their larger and far more dangerous abayos had always sneered at his demands. He’d be expensive and they had nothing to bargain with. He would want the bulk of their take and they would still be vulnerable to anyone stronger than themselves.
    “Which is everyone,” Brax muttered. Hissing at a pair of tiny eyes glowing in the faint dawn light, he drew Spar closer.
    You could always go to Graize, his mind suggested.
    No.
    He’s successful.
    He’s an arrogant little shit.
    He offered you a place beside him once; remember that time when Spar was so sick?
    He offered me a place, not us. He doesn’t want Spar. Spar knows he blows smoke through his arse most of the time. He doesn’t want anyone knowing that.
    You could talk him into taking Spar. He’d do it for you.
    Brax gave an audible sneer. I’d rather go back to