Page 24 of House of Marionne

Yagrin sat back in his chair, impressed. It was a perceptive offer. But tonight Yagrin was after the intangible: secrets. Ambition creased around the Trader’s pursed lips. He wanted to barter.

“No deal,” Yagrin said, pushing his luck. He waved his hand dismissively, and the fellow’s confidence fractured.

“This is—”

“Not what I want.”

He sneered, aghast.

“Match me favor for favor. That’s it. Or no game.”

The Trader’s foot tapped, and an order of drinks made their way around the table. Yagrin cemented his expression, unreadable, like Mother—his Headmistress—had him practice time and time again in the forest, under the moon. He would be imperceptible. The Trader would look for a glimpse of Yagrin’s eagerness but find none. Which would only further unveil his own desperation.

The Trader took a sip. “Fine. Favor for favor.”

The dealer spewed cards from his hands, and Yagrin tightened his lips to keep from smiling. He had him. All he had to do was ensure he won the game. Yagrin’s hand wasn’t great, but nothing he couldn’t fix. He pulled at the warmth simmering beneath his skin and called it to his fingertips. He eased his magic across his cards sneakily, and the diamonds in his hands shifted into spades.

“I have seven,” the Trader said.

“I have nine.”

The Trader unbuttoned his sleeves, tugged at his collar. If the dealer was on to Yagrin’s tricks, he didn’t make it known. He wouldn’t want to be in a Dragun’s ill graces either. Power wasn’t Yagrin’s preferred flavor of poison, but he couldn’t deny it had its benefits. The cards were laid on the table in order. His turn, then the Trader’s. And Yagrin slid more and more winning sets his way, until he reached twelve to the Trader’s mere three.

“I win.”

The Trader slammed his cards on the table. Victory bubbled up in Yagrin, but he hid delight from his expression. The Trader followed him to a shadowed corner of the bar just as a familiar face swept into the room. Felix, a buddy Yagrin had debuted with last Season. Felix landed at the bar and raised a glass at him. Yagrin’s confidence shook. He hadn’t counted on being seen with the scum.

He pulled the Trader by his collar deeper into the hallway, out of sight, fighting back the urge to apologize for roughing him up. He would project strength. He must, to get what he wanted. “I’ll keep it brief and assume this conversation is confidential?”

“I owe you a debt. I can’t exactly refuse, can I?” The Trader’s hands shook though he kept his jaw mean.

Yagrin let go of him. “I just need some info. Relax.” I don’t want to hurt you, he thought, but he kept that to himself. “I’m Yagrin.”

“Des.” He stood up a little taller. “So let’s get it over with. What do you want to know?”

“Someone on the run with toushana. These days, where could they go that’s safe?”

After finishing Third Rite, target assignments came from Headquarters, from the Dragunhead himself, Yagrin’s actual boss. But Mother kept her graduates close and didn’t hesitate to call in favors. This was the second target this month she’d had him look for. Pink Beanie had been the first. Mother didn’t elaborate beyond Quell’s name. But she didn’t have to. Nor did he care to know more about the girl he must find. The more he knew, the more doing the job would knot his insides.

“Safe houses,” the Trader said.

A lie. Yagrin had just come from a safe house, and it had been destroyed. “If we’re going to do this, you have to be honest. I’m on mission, but my friend . . .” He pointed at Felix, who was at the bar, leaned over a drink. “Isn’t. He’d happily latch you up and take you in to answer for the treasonous dealings you dabble in.” Yagrin grimaced; the taste of the threat was bitter. But somehow he had to maintain the upper hand.

Des swallowed. “Fine. The safe houses are being demolished.”

“And?”

“And . . . so there isn’t any real place to hide anymore. Unless this person knows someone who would keep their secret.”

“Who would do that?”

The Trader’s expression shifted, but Yagrin missed what it meant. “I don’t know much, honestly. Look, things are in flux right now. My usual trading spots have been exploited. I’m having to reroute all my goods. And no one’s talking anymore either. My usual whisperers have all gone silent.”

Another lie. Yagrin scoffed, pushing Des into the wall. “Lie to me again and I’ll debone you limb by limb, before I bury your body.” Fear or be feared. It was as easy as breathing. He hadn’t chosen this life, he’d been bred for it.

“I’m telling you the truth! Nothing’s like it was. Even my customers are nervous. If I wasn’t in dire straits I wouldn’t have even joined you at that table,” he spit, gazing far off. “Whispers of the Sphere changing have everyone nervous.”

Yagrin stilled and eased off him a bit. “Changing how?”

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