Vision went back out to ask for help with her ‘drunk’ customer. As planned, Fox and Fists followed her back to the room and each took one of the unconscious man’s arms. They escorted the hapless victim outside, while Vision eased into one of the lounges in the big room. The world was still spinning a little, for her. Celia was there. She caught sight of Vision and excused herself from the conversation she was having with an older man. She spoke to a few of the other girls and then any time someone started towards Vision, one of them would intercept. It was very humane, really. Vision allowed her eyes to close, just for a moment.

A hand touched her shoulder and she jerked awake. Red. The thought shot through her mind, almost like a reflex. It wasn’t him, though. It was a man she didn’t recognise. Her relief was short-lived. There was something about this new man that made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. If she’d been asked to state her concerns, she’d have been unable to say what they were but she’d learned to trust her instincts and she had no doubt that this man was a danger to her.

“You aren’t a real customer,” she accused quietly.

His eyes smiled, “And you aren’t a real courtesan.”

Vision sized him up. He was one of those men who was difficult to describe. If she tried to describe him to the others later, she’d struggle to tell them what he looked like. This was not a short man, nor a tall man. His eyes and hair were coloured the most ordinary brown. Nose, cheek, mouth, there were no more descriptive words to use for his features. His clothes, too, made it difficult to place his social standing. He was dressed plainly, in cloth that was not of a fine cut but was neither noticeably poor.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I have an offer for you.”

She arched an eyebrow. He spoke like an upperclassman but his body language was wrong for that. She looked around for Fox, and found him once more near the bar. Time to excuse herself, then. She stood and smiled tightly.

“Thanks, but I ain’t interested.”

She made to walk away but he stopped her. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t have to. His words, barely audible over the noise of the room held her in place as surely as steel bands.

“Tynan Amaya.”

She froze, hand going to her pendant.

“What?”

He moved up behind her, his arms snaking around her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder.

“Tynan. My dear Tynan,” his breath tickled her skin as he spoke, “I really do think you’ll want to hear what I have to tell you. It could be of great benefit to you.”

She wanted him to stop touching her. She couldn’t move, though, not without finding out whether he’d told anyone who she was. How had he found her? She’d only just got back. Her head spun with disastrous possibilities.

“You tell me your name first. That only seems fair.”

She felt him laugh against her back.

“You can call me Arturo.”

She managed not to stiffen with fear, but it was a close thing. It would have been very bad to show fear to this man.

“Prove it,” she said.

His tone was coloured with amusement, “Think of it this way. If I am lying to you, you lose nothing. If I am telling the truth, it could harm you not to listen.”

She let out a slow breath. Arturo was one of the leaders of the rebel movement in Awnn. It was a powerful movement, growing more so every year. If the rebels managed to overthrow the king, he would be running the country. In the meanwhile, the rebels still conducted more than enough power to terrorise a single thief girl. Arturo – if that was truly who he was – kissed her just beneath her jaw, above her pulse. Her heart fluttered nervously.

“Why don’t you take us somewhere a bit more private, so we can end this charade, hmm?”

She nodded numbly.

He removed his arms from about her waist and she took one of his hands, leading him down the corridor. Bones was still hiding in the same room as before. Could she take Arturo there, and let Bones deal with it? If she asked the ex-soldier to cut his throat for her, would he do it? She thought he would. Maybe, there wouldn’t be any repercussions. Maybe. No. Swallowing her sense of dread, Vision turned into an empty room. The rebel closed the door behind them while she sat on the bed.

“The crown killed your mother,” Arturo said bluntly.

Vision’s eyes widened. Privately, she agreed, but she felt inclined to argue anyway.

“You don’t know that. They never found a body.”

“Do you truly think she might still be alive?” he asked in a silky tone.

“Yes,” she said, but she hesitated too long.

Arturo smiled his victory.

“So, you agree with me.”

“No one knows what happened,” she insisted lamely.

He waved her words away dismissively.

“You hate the crown. I can see it in your face.”

“That don’t mean I love the rebels.”

“So, don’t work for the rebels,” he said simply, “Work against House Arsyde. The enemy of your enemy is your friend. We can help you.”

Silence hung in the air between them. Arturo examined his nails.

“Oh, it is probably prudent to tell you one more thing. We found you. It would be so easy for other groups to find you as well, including the crown. Joining the rebellion could provide you with a certain measure of… protection… that you might otherwise lack.”

Vision folded her hands in her lap and thought for a moment before she spoke.

“If you’re threatening me, I must have something you want.”

“Threat is such a dirty word,” Arturo said with a frown, “But you are useful, yes. Your mother was a revolutionary, the most powerful subtle mage ever to walk this earth. We think that you might share some of that ability.”

“You want me to learn magic?”

“Just that,” he agreed with a nod.

“I don’t have magic,” she said, “Sorry. Guess I’m not useful after all.”

“The potential is there,” he disagreed, “You only need help to unlock it.”

He reached to place a hand on her shoulder and she flinched. He dropped the hand back to his side.

“I am sorry for the pretence, earlier. I would certainly never touch you uninvited under different circumstances, but I didn’t want to reveal your lie. There’s certainly no reason to feel skittish around me. Why don’t you discuss all of this with Brede, hmm? I’ll come back for an answer in three nights.”

She was sure her face was very white. He started to leave, but paused in the doorway.

“One reason I feel certain that your mother is dead? Amayas are very difficult to hide.”