Among Thieves

Chapter Four

In the “argot of the underworld,” as Baldezar would no doubt call it, I am what is referred to as a Nose. This means I make a living by sticking myself in where I don’t belong, sniffing around for dirt, and generally making a nuisance of myself. I’m an information broker, and I gather what I can by almost any means I can: paid informants, bribes, eavesdropping, blackmail, burglary, frame-ups… and even, on rare occasions, torture-whatever it takes to get the story.

That’s what sets a Nose apart from a run-of-the-mill rumormonger: We not only collect the pieces; we also put them together. Any Mumbler can sell you a rumor for the right price; but if you want to know the why behind the rumor, when and where things are coming together, and how it got started in the first place, you go to a Nose. Noses don’t just gather whispers off the street-we sift and assemble them, putting together the pieces most Kin miss. We don’t just find out something is happening-we find out why it’s happening in the first place.

And then, we sell the information.

Whom you sell it to depends on what kind of Nose you are. If you’re a Wide Nose, you work the street and sell what you learn to the highest bidder, pure and simple. It’s dangerous work, since not everyone wants you sharing what you learn, but a smart Nose knows how to hold just enough information back to keep people from bothering him.

Long Noses, on the other hand, keep their heads down and their information tight. They ply their trade by infiltrating a rival crime lord’s organization and feeding information back to their real boss. Being a Long Nose takes that special mixture of guts and stupidity usually reserved for mongooses and imperial tax collectors. You typically don’t find out someone’s doing the Long Nose until he turns up floating in the harbor.

The third kind of Nose is the Narrow Nose. That’s what I do for Nicco-keep tabs on his people, find out who is or isn’t cheating him, and generally solve minor problems before they get big. It doesn’t exactly make me popular with my fellow Kin, but it does give me something the other two types of Noses don’t have-backing. If anyone wants to come after me, he has to think about what Nicco will do to him in return. That’s not a bad place to be. However, like everything else, it has its trade-offs, one of which is that I have to answer to Nicco-a lot.

It’s that last part that comes back to haunt me, usually at the worst possible times.

The door at the top of the stairs opened, and I was ushered into the office by the two Arms. It was a bare-bones affair: a desk, two chairs, four blank walls, and a small window looking out onto the street. A wooden platter with the remnants of Nicco’s breakfast sat on the desk, giving the room a greasy, meaty smell. Two men were waiting in that smell.

Nicco was standing at the window, heavy hands clasped behind him. I blinked at the beam of sunlight streaming in, but didn’t look away. That would have been disrespectful.

In his prime, Nicco had been a slab of bone and muscle, easily big enough to make two of me. Now, he was a late-afternoon shadow of himself-still big, still strong, but losing some of his harder edges. Jowls were beginning to gather under his jaw, and more of the meat on his frame came from food than from fight. Gray smudges had settled under his eyes, making them look haggard in the wrong light. His hair was thinning. But even aging, Niccodemus Alludrus was harder than most men. He’d proved as much three months ago, when he broke an assassin’s back even as the garrote had tightened around his neck. No one questioned whether Nicco still had what it took.

The other man in the room stood leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, silver rings glittering on his hands and in his ears. Long and thin, he had a sharpness about him-in his face, his clothes, his mind. His name was Rambles, and he was one of Nicco’s senior street bosses. But whereas Nicco favored the lead pipe when it came to solving problems, Rambles took after the stiletto. By all accounts, Rambles and I should have gotten along famously-similar approaches, kindred spirits, and all that crap. Instead, we managed to make oil and water look tight.

Neither man seemed in a particularly good mood. I made it unanimous.

Nicco spoke without turning toward me. “Drothe, good of you to come. Sit down.”

I sat. Behind me, I could hear the Arms taking up positions on either side of the door. Between them and Rambles, this wasn’t a good sign. Nicco and I usually met alone; he didn’t believe in anyone getting information before he did.

“I’m not used to waiting two days for people,” said Nicco.

I sat up straighter. Two days? Shit. Mendross hadn’t mentioned the call had come yesterday. I rubbed my eyes, trying to wake up. I slid a seed into my mouth.

“I was in the middle of another dodge when I got word,” I said. “I didn’t realize you’d been waiting.”

“Way I hear it, you were already done with the smuggler when you got word.”

I blinked. How the hell did Nicco know about Athel? I’d gone to a lot of trouble to keep that job hush.

Oh. Of course.

“Shatters,” I said.

“That Agonyman had a few things to say about you,” said Nicco, still looking out the window. “None of them good.”

“That sadistic bastard is just mad because I…”

Nicco held up his meaty hand. “I don’t give a crap about your side work, Drothe. As long as I get my cut, I’m happy. What I do give a crap about is my people not doing their job.”

It wasn’t hard to figure out that “people” meant me. “Look,” I said, “I’m late and I apologize. Sincerely. I didn’t know you’d been waiting-”

Nicco spun toward me. “Screw the waiting!” he bellowed. “I shouldn’t have needed to call you in, Drothe. If you’d been doing your job, instead of dicking around after relics, I’d have heard about Ten Ways two days ago. As it is, I’ve been having to get word from the street. I shouldn’t have to listen to the fucking street, Drothe-that’s what I pay you to do.”

“Ten Ways?” I said. I sucked on the seed in my mouth and ran through everything Mendross had told me about the cordon earlier, then through everything I’d heard about it in the last two months. Nothing important surfaced. “Why the hell are you worried about what’s happening in Ten Ways?”

“The street,” said Rambles.

I looked over at him. “Was I talking to you?”

Rambles smiled coolly. “The street says someone’s planning on making a move against Nicco down in Ten Ways.”

“ ‘The street’?” I said. “What the hell do you know about listening to the street?”

“I have ears,” said Rambles.

“Yeah, I can see them from here. Nice jingle.”

“Word is it’s serious.”

“Serious,” I said. “All right. Then answer me a couple of questions, O Sage of the Streets. Did you run this by anyone else? Maybe another Nose, or someone in the cordon? Did you drag your ass down there and check it yourself? Did you stop to consider this might just be a rumor? Or did you come running the moment you heard it?”

Rambles pushed himself away from the wall. “I don’t need a Nose to tell me how to work the street!” he snarled.

“Of course you don’t,” I said. I turned back to Nicco. “He’s full of crap.”

“Why?” said Rambles. “Because you don’t agree with me?”

I made a show of crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair. The light from the window was playing hell with my exhausted eyes, and I could feel a nasty headache coming on, but I smiled benignly nonetheless.

“Answer him,” said Nicco.

“Why?” I said. “If Rambles wants to believe everything he hears on the street, that’s his business. I don’t give free lessons to the help.”

Nicco took a step. The floor creaked beneath him. “I said, answer him.”

I bit down hard on the ahrami in my mouth. The crack of the seed was audible in the room.

“Listen,” I said, starting to get annoyed. I’d been dragged in here for this? “This is bullshit. One person gets leaned on, and suddenly it’s a move against you? Think about it. This is how Ten Ways works. Anyone who says otherwise is a fool. If Rambles wants to-”

For a big man, Nicco could move fast. I didn’t have time to flinch before he’d taken a step and backhanded me across the face.

The blow sent me halfway out of my chair and filled my head with a ringing sound. For a moment, my cheek was numb-then the pain made its way inside. I felt hands grab my shoulders and haul me back into the chair. At first I thought it was Nicco, but when I saw him standing in front of me, I realized the two Arms at the door hadn’t stayed in the room for show. They were behind me, leaning down on my shoulders, holding me in place.

I worked my jaw, tasted blood. I could feel the liquid starting to slip out of my mouth and into my beard. My cheek felt half the size of my face. If that weren’t enough, the headache that had been threatening moments ago was now in full, agonizing bloom.

Out of habit, my hand reached for the herb wallet at my belt. There would be painkillers there-waxed packets full of powders and leaves and unguents, maybe a little Saint’s Balm for my cheek…

One of the Arms stopped me before I could reach it.

“Careful,” said Nicco. He was rubbing the hand that had hit me. “Be careful here, Drothe.” He leaned forward, putting his face close to mine. I noticed he had had onions with breakfast. “You know why you got that?”

I nodded and slowly retrieved my hand.

“Because you agree with Rambles?” I said.

“In part. And?”

“And because I indirectly called you a fool?”

Nicco’s fist drove into my stomach. I started to double over, but the Arms hauled back on my shoulders, arresting the movement. I sat there, gulping for air, my body trying to convulse in on itself. I decided that if I threw up, I was going to aim for Nicco’s shoes.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Nicco, straightening up. “And?”

He waited while I gasped and gagged. Finally, when I could move enough air to talk, I said, “And because I didn’t answer him the first time you told me to.”

“The first two times I told you,” corrected Nicco. “You don’t want to go for three.”

I nodded weakly and took a deep, ragged breath. There was definitely something going on here-Nicco might be a violent bastard, but he didn’t usually knock me around for arguing with him. Something was bothering him.

I blinked and tried to clear my head. Between the pain and my lack of sleep, I wasn’t exactly putting the pieces together as well as I might.

“It’s all about how Ten Ways works,” I said, trying to buy some time. My voice came out far steadier than I expected. I credited the ahrami. “The place is a hole. The cordon’s full of thugs and petty bosses. Almost every one of them is making a move at some time or another. It’s how a person establishes himself, and it’s how you get out. If you make enough things happen, or pull off a big enough dodge, you can use it to leverage your way into better things.

“That’s what’s happening here,” I said. “Someone’s trying to look tough by seeing how far he can push you in the cordon. We’re not exactly big in Ten Ways, so we’re a prime target. Send in a couple of Cutters, have them hand out some bruises, maybe make a corpse or two, and the Kin down there will get the message.”

“I already sent people,” snarled Nicco.

“Good,” I said.

“They didn’t come back.”

“Oh.”

Nicco walked over and sat down behind his desk. “Tell him,” he said to Rambles.

“Three Cutters went in,” said Rambles. “None came out. That was two days ago. Last night we sent two Arms in with four more Cutters. One of the Arms staggered out this morning, cut up. He died an hour later.”

I whistled softly. The Cutters I could almost see. They were decent enforcers, but you could find freelance toughs who were just as good if you looked. Arms, though, were another matter. They were the best the Kin had to offer, the select muscle in an organization. For a boss like Nicco to lose two Arms and twice as many Cutters in a pissant cordon like Ten Ways wasn’t just a bad sign-it was downright embarrassing.

Now I understood why Nicco wasn’t happy. He needed to pay back whoever was responsible, fast, or risk losing face among the Kin. Lose enough, and he might find other Upright Men sniffing around his turf, deciding which portions they could carve off for themselves. Top dogs didn’t stay on top in this business if they let the smaller dogs get away with pissing on them.

“I hadn’t heard any of this yet,” I said, “which is good.” Both men stared at me. “Not hearing anything means our people have been able to keep it quiet. That gives us some breathing room.”

“I don’t give a crap about ‘breathing room,’ ” said Nicco. “If people are complaining on the street, then someone is talking.” He scowled at Rambles. “That’s not supposed to be happening.”

Rambles shrugged, and suddenly I understood. Rambles had been put in charge of Ten Ways. I almost laughed out loud. I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather see consigned to that gutter of a territory.

Nicco looked over at me. “What the fuck are you grinning at?”

“Uh… ” I said.

“You walk in two days late, you argue, you give me information I needed to know yesterday, and then you sit there smiling?”

“Well…”

“Shut the fuck up.”

I did.

Nicco smeared a scrap of bread through the drippings on the plate and put it in his mouth. “I’ll keep this short,” he said, his mouth working around the bread. He pointed at Rambles. “I want the bastards behind this to pay-hard. No one fucks with me, no matter where they are. You remind those bastards in Ten Ways of that.”

Rambles considered for a moment. “How far do you want me to go?”

“As far as you need to. But,” Nicco said, pausing to swallow, “I don’t want the whole damn cordon coming down around my ears, got it?”

Rambles seemed mildly disappointed, but he nodded, anyhow.

I nodded as well. Nicco was being smart. Ten Ways may be a hellhole, but it was a proud hellhole. Outside bosses were barely tolerated, and then usually at the fringes. Hell, even the city guard garrisoned the men stationed there outside the cordon. If Rambles went in looking for serious trouble, he’d end up with most of the Kin in Ten Ways lining up against him in a matter of days.

“Good,” said Nicco. He flicked his fingers at Rambles. “Now, get the hell out of here.”

Rambles bowed slightly in Nicco’s direction, smirked at me, and left. Since the Arms were still looming behind me, I took the hint and stayed.

Nicco took a sip of whatever was left in his cup, made a face, and set it aside. “You’re going, too.”

I sat up straighter. “What?”

“To Ten Ways. You’re going in.”

Shit. That was what I’d been afraid of. I’d spent five years in that pit before finally clawing my way out. The climb hadn’t been easy or pretty, and I’d sworn I wouldn’t go back. Besides, if I was busy in there, I wouldn’t be able to track Ioclaudia or my relic out here.

I wet my lips and thought fast.

“I don’t know if I’m the best person for this job,” I said. “I have history down there.”

“I figured that would help-you know the cordon.”

“Knew it,” I said. “That was a long time ago. And if anyone does remember me, they’re as likely to stab me as talk to me. I didn’t leave a lot of friends in my wake when I left.”

“So take some Cutters in with you.”

“You know that’s not how I work,” I said. I ran a hand through my beard. “Dammit, Nicco, I-”

Nicco snapped his fingers. Hands clamped down on my shoulders. The Arms behind me bore down so hard, I thought they were going to push me through the chair. I winced and tried to look unfazed. I doubted I fooled anyone.

Nicco leaned back in his chair and examined his fingers. “Are we having another disagreement, Drothe?”

“No,” I said. “I just-”

“I said, are we having a disagreement?”

The Arms put their full weight into it. I heard something creak dangerously. Probably the chair, but I could have sworn it was my spine.

“No,” I gasped. “Absolutely not!”

“Good.” Nicco gave a nod, and the pressure went away. “Leave.”

The two Arms walked out of the room and closed the door behind them. Nicco waited for the sound of their shoes on the stairs to fade before he spoke.

“You’re lucky I like you, Drothe.”

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing at my shoulders. Everything still seemed to be where it belonged. “Lucky.”

“Damn it, Drothe!” Nicco pointed past me to where the Arms had been. “I should have had them beat the living crap out of you. What the hell were you thinking? Arguing with me in front of them, in front of Rambles? Shit.” He sat back in his chair and glared at me. “Sometimes I think I give you too much freedom, even for a Nose. You forget your place.”

“Believe me,” I said. “I never forget my place.”

“Don’t give me lip, Drothe. Not right now.”

I held up my hands. “I get it-no squabbles in front of the help.” Or at all, at the moment. Even my tired brain could read that one. Right now, I needed to play along. “So what do you want me to do in Ten Ways?”

“I want you to find out what the hell’s going on.”

I frowned. I had expected to be told to shadow Rambles’s efforts and report back. “Isn’t that Rambles’s job? He’s in charge down there now.”

“Rambles can kick ass and take names with the best of them, but he’ll miss things. You won’t-that’s why I want you Nosing down there. And I don’t want you sharing what you find with anyone but me.”

“You don’t trust him?”

“Trust has nothing to do with it: I want to compare what you say to what he says.”

Ah. He didn’t trust either of us. Wonderful.

I scratched at my beard. It was still damp with blood. “Rambles won’t like my nosing around down there if he’s not in the loop.” Actually, he wouldn’t like my nosing around there even if he was in the loop, but that was beside the point.

“Tough shit for him,” said Nicco. He got up and walked back over to the window. “He doesn’t need to know everything to do his part of the job.”

I looked up at that. “He doesn’t know everything now, does he?” I said. “You have something else.”

Nicco didn’t look at me. Instead, he ran his finger along the window frame, holding it up to study the dust it had collected. “The Arm who made it out of Ten Ways lived long enough to give us two names. One of them was ‘Fedim.’ ”

I shook my head. “Don’t know it.”

“He’s the Dealer who’s been complaining about protection.” Nicco blew the dust off his fingertip. “Things are bad enough in Ten Ways without some cut-rate fence mouthing off. It makes me look bad. Talk to him, find out what he knows. Then dust him.”

I grimaced but didn’t argue.

“And the other name?” I said.

Nicco stared at his finger so long, I thought he wasn’t going to tell me. Then he rubbed it with his thumb and smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant smile.

“Kells,” he said.

If I hadn’t had a chair beneath me, I would have been on the floor. As it was, I nearly grabbed the sides for support, anyhow.

“Kells?” I said. Well, shit.