Page 23 of The Ragpicker King
Ji-An tugged thoughtfully at her braid. “Which might mean someone followed us from the Caravel. Did you find anyone on the roof, Kellian?”
“That was some brilliant Crawling by the way,” Jerrod noted. “Getting up and down that wall so quickly. Must be all that Sword Catcher training. Most of my gang couldn’t have done it.”
“Shut up, Jerrod. I want to know if Kel found the assassin on the roof,” said Ji-An. Her glance at Kel said:You saw something, didn’t you?Kel thought of the figure in black, outlined against the curved rooftops of the Ruta Taur: faceless, almost voiceless.
“Let’s not talk here,” Kel said. “We’re exposed on the street, given the attacker’s expertise with a bow and ability to track us.”
“I know where we can go to talk,” said Jerrod. “Yulan Road.”
“Wonderful,” said Merren. “I love noodles. Though I’ll be needing my hand back, Jerrod.”
Expressionless, Jerrod returned Merren’s now-spotless hand to him.
They had been to the Yu-Shuang Noodle House often in the past three months; Jerrod still liked to meet colleagues and informants there, and Ji-An and Merren liked the food. As did Kel, who realized as soon as he entered that he was starving. The scent of garlic and steaming pork hung in the air like a fragrant cloud.
The staff knew Jerrod, and once everyone had ordered, they waved him toward the booth in the back where he usually held court. Ji-An had come in last, having paused on the road to fix a broken lace on her boot. Now she made a face at Merren, who had just made his comment about considering the evening a qualified success.
“What part might be considered successful?” Ji-An demanded, licking her spoon. She had an incorrigible sweet tooth and was consuming a pudding of egg custard, dusted with sugar. “The part where our one connection to the Gallery slaughter was assassinated while we were questioning him? The part where we had to flee before the Vigilants came?” She sounded resentful, though not of Merren; Ji-An wasn’t one who enjoyed running from a confrontation.
“While we were questioning him, not before we questioned him.” The night’s events didn’t seem to have spoiled Merren’s appetite. He was on his second plate of vegetable dumplings, lightly dotted with carmine splashes of hot oil. He licked his thumb and said, “We did learn some useful things—”
“There is something I have to tell you,” Kel said.
“You’re arresting us all in the name of the Arrow Squadron?” said Jerrod.
“What— No, of course not. Have you been expecting me to say that?”
“Every time I see you,” said Jerrod. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“Jerrod, you have an untrusting personality,” said Kel. “It’s about the killer who shot Raimon.”
He told what he knew—not just what had happened tonight, but the first time he had seen the Dark Assassin, on the rooftop of the Shining Gallery. How he had seen that the crossbow bolts were the same, with their characteristic gray-and-black fletching.
“Why didn’t you tell us before?” demanded Ji-An. “About what happened during the Gallery slaughter?”
Kel shrugged uncomfortably. “I didn’t like that they’d spoken to me as if they knew me. Like they did tonight. I felt... implicated, I suppose.”
“You are implicated,” said Ji-An. “But that isn’t the same as responsible.”
“I felt as if I should know who it is,” Kel said, hand tightening around his cup of rice wine. “Or at least I should have a good guess. But I don’t.”
“Lin,” said Merren, his voice warm, and for a moment Kel thought Merren had lost his mind and decided the Dark Assassin was Lin. Then he realized Merren was, in fact, greeting Lin Caster, who had just arrived, wearing her gray physician’s tunic, her bright hair tied at the back of her neck with a ribbon. Over her shoulder was her medical satchel.
“What are you doing here?” said Kel. “Not that I’m not glad to see you.”
“I sent for her,” said Ji-An, and Kel realized she had not, in fact, paused outside to fix a broken bootlace. “I didn’t like that cut on your neck. It looks as if someone’s tried to slit your throat.”
Kel touched a hand to the gash on his neck and winced. “That was... thoughtful.”
“It’s not that I care about you,” said Ji-An. “It’s that I don’t want you to fall under suspicion at the Palace.”
“Clearly.” Kel spoke gravely, shifting over in his seat to make room for Lin, who settled herself beside him and began examining his neck.
“It’s a very clean cut,” she said. “Not bad, but something very sharp made it.”
“Glass,” offered Merren.
Lin darted a look at Kel with worried green eyes, but didn’t ask what had happened. “It’s just above the artery. A bit deeper and...”
