“Oh, it is sparking off,” Gilder said with all the ghoulish relish of a young boy describing violence and chaos. “Everybody’s talking about how Lady Gray’s over a barrel now. This Healer shit’s got her combing the Gutters to find his ass, and with the Olumnach bandits still pressing in, she’s losing her grip. That’s not great for all of us trying to live here,” he added more soberly. “Tough people who’re used to being in charge get ugly when they feel cornered. Her bullyboys are mostly too busy to hassle people too much, but right now everybody’s trying to stay out of their way even more than the usual.”

“They’ve started making…points,” Benit said quietly. “They caught one of the bandits and nailed him to a wall on the edge of town. Facing out at the countryside. To send the rest a message. I wouldn’t wanna be the Healer when she catches him.”

“She’s gotta catch him first,” I muttered. “Why’s Gray reacted so violently to this guy, do you think?”

“He blew up a highborn,” Gilder said, as if incredulous that I even needed to ask. “That’s the kinda shit that brings down the Clans. And if Clansguard start stomping through the Gutters, let alone Kingsguard, they’re gonna look for Lady Gray’s businesses to smash up first. They already don’t like how she calls herself Lady. That only gets tolerated cos she stays outta the inner rings and doesn’t mess with their business.”

“Hm. What’s the reaction been from the Clans?”

He shrugged. “Not a peep. So far, looks like it’s just the Gutters that cares about this.”

“Really? I’d have thought that noble would try to get some kind of revenge.”

“He’s highborn,” Benit said in her quiet voice, then immediately hunched in on herself when Gilder gave her an annoyed look at the interruption.

“What do you mean, Benit?” I asked, keeping my voice calm. I’d found the girl both watchful and insightful, but she was definitely a shrinking violet. It took encouragement to get her to offer opinions. Generally speaking, I’m not great with kids; my strongest memory from childhood was overall hating how condescending adults are when they talk to children, so I’d done my best to put childhood behind me. Thus, the best thing I could think of was to not do that, and talk to them like I would anybody else. Except maybe a bit more polite. It seemed to be working okay.

“Highborn care about their pride the way normal people care about their lives,” Benit answered, encouraged. “This guy had whorepox, he had to beg for help from a crazy street preacher, then he got burned and cried about it in front of a bunch of Gutter trash. That’s all stuff he won’t want to admit. He’ll try to keep his Clan from even finding out.”

“Hey, she’s got a good point, Lord Seiji,” Gilder chimed in. “See, I told you Benit was smart!”

He reached over to ruffle her hair, not noticing how that immediately erased the smile his words of praise had brought to her face.

“Hm. So you think the repercussions will be limited to the Gutters?”

“Sounds like it!” Gilder said cheerfully.

“Maybe…”

“Go on, Benit,” I encouraged.

She drew in a breath before continuing. “Way too many people saw that for it to stay secret. He probably thought they didn’t matter cos they were all lowborn, but that’s not how it works. Word’ll get to the upper ring eventually, and then he’ll be embarrassed and want revenge.”

“Mm,” Gilder mused. “Yeah…she’s right again, Lord Seiji. Highborn do make mistakes like that. A smart one’ll plan for it from the beginning, but they ain’t all smart.”

“Some highborn are smart,” Benit whispered. “Scary smart. But only some. A lot of ‘em are pretty stupid.”

“They don’t get left to starve if they can’t figure out a way to eat, not like normal people,” Gilder added with a grin.

I glanced over at Aster, who as usual while in her bodyguard role in Gwyllthean was following my lead, watching quietly and not asserting herself into the conversation. It was good that she knew when to be professional, given the absolutely no end of sass and backtalk I got from her back at North Watch. But really, I didn’t mind that so much. It was more comfortable than the silent tension of our first few days together. Now she was just watching me with a slight frown of thought.

This news had already caused me to mentally adjust my plans; I was suddenly on a more unforgiving timetable than I’d been counting on. Time to move quickly to the next step. Still, there was always time for the necessary questions before I left the kids.

“And how’re you guys?” I prompted. “I don’t see Radon today. Anything you need?”

“Don’t worry, Lord Seiji, Radon’s fine,” Gilder assured me, showing off a grin with specks of the meat-and-pepper skewer he’d just devoured still in his teeth. “Uncle Gently’s got him and some of the other little kids catching crawns today. We gotta eat.”

“That reminds me,” I said, frowning critically at him. “Why are you two so short and skinny? Crawns are everywhere in the Gutters, but you always act like you’re starving when I buy you food.”

Gilder and Benit exchanged a loaded look.

“We’re not supposed to eat outside the Nest, Lord Seiji,” he admitted after a pause. “We get a break when it’s with you, cos you’re a contact and dealing with you is bringing in money for Uncle Gently. But, yeah, crawns gotta get cooked proper or you can’t eat ‘em, and Rats get in deep shit if we’re caught cooking our own away from home. There’s always tattletales looking for something to squeal to him about. Uncle Gently says we’re a family and families eat together.”

I didn’t even try to suppress the scowl this brought to my face. Deprivation and dependence, a neat way to keep control.

“We’re not stupid, Lord Seiji,” Benit said in her quiet way. “We know what he’s doing. Most of the Rats don’t exactly like Nest life. But…enough do. Uncle Gently’s got his, uh, loyalists.”

“The bigger boys, mostly,” Gilder added. “The ones who got a mean streak from early on. They get favored, and also more food so they grow up bigger. They get…what’s the word…groomed? Yeah, groomed to join up with Lady Gray’s people. Uncle Gently tries to stay on her good side.”

“I think…” Benit clamped her lips shut and ducked her head when everyone turned to look at her.

“It’s okay,” I assured her, gingerly patting her hair. Was…that how you showed affection for kids? The gesture felt weird. “I’m always interested in what you think, Benit.”

“It’s…I wouldn’t say I’m sure, Lord Seiji, but I got a…suspicion. A theory? It’s just, I wonder if Uncle Gently’s actually trying to…move on Lady Gray, in, y’know, a roundabout kinda way.”

“Oh?”

“He keeps in good with the former Rats who’ve joined her crew,” she went on, encouraged. “Makes us do ‘em favors for free. Some of ‘em come to visit the Nest sometimes. I wonder if he’s maybe stacking her crew with people who’re loyal to him.”

“Huh. Now that’s some good theorizing, Benit. Keep that up! And both of you, be careful. I’m beginning to worry about how hot it’s getting in the Gutters. I want you to let me know if you think it’s starting to get too dangerous; if it comes to that I can pull you out. Uncle Gently has no reach at my place.”

It was both heartening and heart-clenching how the kids stumbled over themselves to assure me they would keep being useful. Even after just a few weeks of this, I could tell they liked me more than their Uncle Gently, and boy must he be an epic piece of shit to make that happen. I was definitely planning to have words with that guy, but he would have to get in line. I had more immediate problems to worry about.

Lady Gray’s movements had undermined my plans, so I made a counter-plan to deal with it. As usual, it immediately failed to work.

With her goons probably on the active lookout for me, the first thing I did was vary my schedule, making another appearance as the Healer the day after my visit with the kids—so three days after the Healer’s big show guest starring flambe of highborn. Element of surprise, and all that. By the same reasoning, I decided to avoid another big, public confrontation if possible. To keep my movements unpredictable, but also because that posed the greatest risk of going bad for me. Aster and I heavily outclassed anything the local slumlord could throw at us, especially with my new spells, but the slumlord could continue hurling warm bodies until one of them got in a lucky shot.

Instead, I decided to start winnowing out her forces quietly and in small increments, and that was where I found myself thwarted.

I kept Biribo higher up in my mask than usual, just below the ear where he could sense around me more clearly and whisper instructions to me; the protrusion he made was concealed by the mask and my hood, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable. From there, I risked falling into a familiar pattern, reasoning that by starting my Cat Alley visit at the more distant ends as usual, the quieter, darker confines down there would give thugs ample opportunity to attempt to ambush me, and thus get taken out.

They didn’t. Biribo reported nobody making any aggressive or even suspicious moves toward us. We worked methodically through the brothels as usual, faster than normal because it was such a short time after my last visit and there wasn’t much healing to do, and the whole time there was not a peep out of Gray’s goons.

I might have put it down to luck, except the usual shadowing of them was also not present. Nobody tailed me from a polite distance or flashed weapons at me. This quickly started making me very nervous. This smelled like a plan, some kind of anti-Healer campaign with actual strategy behind it.

It was a reminder that I was dealing with people who were far more experienced in strategy and tactics, trying to overcome their intellectual edge with goddess-granted brute force. Which clashed horribly with my self-perception, but I could only work with the assets I had.

So it was that I found myself at the Alley Cat earlier than usual, and much tenser than usual with the awareness that I was being outplayed somehow. Just waiting for the blade to fall. Still, I had an image to keep up, and made my usual conversation with the employees as I healed them, and chatted with Minifrit.

“Do cats and rats get along where you’re from?” she asked dryly in response to my query about the Gutter Rats, who were evidently unwelcome in Cat Alley.

“Pithy,” I acknowledged, “but unless you’re eating the orphans, the metaphor doesn’t exactly work.”

Minifrit blew a long streamer of smoke toward the ceiling. “The Rats do two things: they steal, and they snoop. We work hard for every disc we get, and ours is a business in which discretion has a high value. It’s simply a matter of the madames’ interests clashing with Uncle Gently’s. That, and little Rats grow up to be big problems. It’s a rite of passage when they graduate from their adorable little gang into one of Lady Gray’s concerns that they come here and get…” Her lips twisted in distaste. “A freebie. One of those concessions we make to Gray to keep her pacified and at bay. And these…inaugural visits are frequently among the most distasteful duties the girls have to perform. After growing up being shooed away from our establishments, those ex-Rats get a little drunk on the tiny scrap of power they’re granted.”

I considered my response carefully; it was obvious to me, as an outsider, how this self-perpetuating cycle of hostilities kept two of the Gutters’s main factions from banding together against their mutual enemy, but it was a long gap between realizing that and finding a way to point it out to Minifrit that wouldn’t be arrogant and patronizing.

It was generally frustrating, having to avoid being arrogant and patronizing. Most people brought that out in me simply by being dull-witted wastes of my time, but it would only get in the way of my goals here.

“Boss,” Biribo suddenly hissed in my ear, “we got groups of people coming this way. Toward the front and back doors, from both directions. Fifteen in total.”

I drew in a breath to steel myself. Showtime.

The familiar was only barely ahead of the more old-fashioned methods. Kastrin came skittering around the corner from the stairwell, rushing to her employer’s side at the desk.

“Miss Minifrit!” she hissed. “Lady Gray’s thugs are coming right toward us from both directions!”

Minifrit snapped upright out of her usual languorous pose. “The rooftops?”

“Clear, but I don’t think there’s time—”

From my position behind the beaded curtain, I could see into the common room and thus had a perfect view of their entrance. It was a pretty good entrance, I had to admit. The door was hurled open hard enough to bang loudly against the wall outside, and they streamed in. They had, to my eye, gone out of their way to look like thugs. None had any artifacts or even faux-artifact style gear such as adventurers liked to wear, but all of them had on what was unmistakably leather armor, and had weapons bared. Swords, cudgels, a couple of crossbows, and one guy carrying a big two-handed battleaxe.

Immediately, everybody already in the common room came out of their seats, moving toward the rear. That was when the back door opened and five more thugs entered, pushing Minifrit’s usual bouncer ahead of them at sword point; he didn’t look harmed, just furious. Perhaps warned by the sounds of heavy boots from behind the bead curtain, the patrons and girls out front shifted aside to crowd toward the walls and corners.

“And a fine good evening to you all!” called out the fellow in front, planting the butt of his axe on the floor and grinning broadly. Yeah, this guy had a flair for the dramatic. I respected that. “Is the, heh, lady of the house available? We require a word.”

Minifrit was already on her feet and brushing past me. She slipped through the beads and planted herself just inside the common room, adopting a subtly slouched stance that was both cocky and languid, omnipresent pipe dangling from her hand.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” the madam greeted them. “I’m afraid we don’t service groups this size. Not, at least, without an appointment.”

“Well, now, that’s just bad business,” the lead thug chided, dragging his gaze up and down her body in a way that made my skin crawl, and I was pretty sure I’d looked at women that way myself. And wow, wasn’t that an interesting combination of emotions to suddenly experience. Minifrit, of course, did not react, and the leader snapped his fingers, holding up one hand over his shoulder. “Maybe that explains why you’re in this little predicament.”

“Oh? Am I in a predicament?” she drawled. “Surely you don’t think you’re the first gang of jumped-up layabouts I’ve had to deal with. Or the most impressive.”

Someone behind the leader put a heavy roll of paper in his hand, which caught my eye in its design. The Fflyr liked books; this was the first time I’d seen an actual scroll that wasn’t a magical object with a spell inscribed on it. Still grinning in a distinctly alarming way, he unrolled this and held it up, facing forward, so that Minifrit and those of us behind her could see the lines of neat text. They weren’t legible from this distance, but the very official-looking seals at the top and bottom were.

“Should’ve paid your debts, little missy. By order of Clan Aelthwyn, this establishment is now seized and remanded to your creditor in lieu of payment.”

“Kastrin, no,” Adelly hissed, seizing the younger girl before she could rush through the beads. That was probably wise, given the absolutely feral look on her face.

Minifrit actually laughed, a throaty sound heavily laced with bitterness. Her bouncer did push through the curtain, though less precipitously, coming to stand in silence behind her shoulder.

“I gather the fact that I owe no debts to anyone is not a real consideration here,” Minifrit sneered.

“Oh, I’d save your protests, if I were you,” said Gray’s henchman, beaming and shuffling the scroll. There was another paper behind it, as it turned out, which he moved to the top and brandished at her. “Given the amount of your outstanding debt versus the assessed value of this business, by further order of Clan Aelthwyn, one Armondeza Minifrit is hereby remanded to custody and a contract of indentured servitude at the sole discretion of her creditor until the balance is fully repaid by time worked.”

“You evil son of a bitch!” Kastrin screeched, wrenching herself free and tearing out through the beads.

“Kastrin!” Minifrit barked, bringing her up short. The girl breathed heavily through her teeth, hands clenched into claws at her sides and staring at the wall of armed thugs with an expression I could only describe as bloodlust, but at the madam’s voice she stopped. Minifrit made a sharp gesture with her pipe, and Kastrin even retreated a step. “I find it quite interesting that it’s you delivering this little practical joke, Cauth. Unless the law has changed very recently, orders from a magistrate are to be delivered by a duly appointed agent of the Archlord, or they are not valid.”

“Why, how very embarrassing,” Cauth chuckled, rolling up the scrolls again. He held them up over his shoulder, and one of his cronies reached forward to retrieve them. “I tell you what, Minny, sweets. Next time you find yourself with a break from your new job, and of course permission from your owner, you just toddle off to the guard barracks and complain about these little irregularities. Do let me know how that works out for you.”

He took two steps forward, looking her up and down again. His eyes lingered on her chest for a stretch of seconds that could only have been deliberate before he raised them to smirk at her face again. “Mm. Not bad at all, for an old lady. I might just buy out your contract myself.”

I don’t recall deciding to move, but there I was, pushing forward through the beads.

The thugs behind me held position at the back door; those in front collectively drew in a breath at my appearance and shuffled backward slightly. Not the leader, though. Cauth turned his stare on me directly, and to my surprise, his grin did not diminish. It took on a hard cast, though, looking more like he was trying to keep it in place rather than actually enjoying this.

“Well, well! And there he is, the great and mysterious Healer. Patron saint of whores and losers, eh? Got something you wanna say, mister?”

I slowly swept my gaze around the room, considering. Cauth held his position, his grip white-knuckled on the haft of his axe. His followers were less skilled at controlling their expressions. They were all afraid of me, I could see it plainly. Yet they held their ground, despite knowing what I could do to them.

They wanted me to attack. No, I realized, it was worse than that. Lady Gray had planned this such that anything I did would play into her hands. If I stood by and let them do this, Minifrit would lose her establishment and her freedom and my credibility with the denizens of Cat Alley would take a devastating hit. If I intervened… Well, I’d find out what she’d prepared to deal with that. Easy as it was to bribe officials in this fucking country, those documents might well have legal weight, in which case thwarting their execution would make me an outlaw. Well, officially an outlaw, in my Healer persona. And that was just off the top of my head; Gray very likely had whole other layers of plans behind what I could see. She’d certainly done a fine job of maneuvering around me so far.

“Well?” Cauth taunted me, emboldened by my silence. “Unless you got something you wanna get off your chest, Healer, you’re just in the way here.”

Minifrit gave me a look which said without the need for words, This is your fault. Which…yeah, it was.

Actually, I amended my assessment, anything I could do here that Lady Gray could anticipate would play into her hands. But she didn’t know she was dealing with a Dark Lord. What could I break out to upend this situation? I scrabbled desperately inside my own head, coming up empty. There had to be something!

“Boss,” Biribo whispered right in my ear, “I need you to trust me.”

Oh, I wasn’t going to like this, I already knew it.