Assassin's Heart (Assassin's Heart, #1)(48)

“He left you there? Alone? How old were you?”

“Seven.”

I tried not to picture little boy Les, sitting on a chair, knowing his mother was dead and waiting for someone to come for him. My chest ached for that child.

“So the lawmen kicked me out onto the street. The sun had set and they were tired of watching me and there’s no love for travelers here. I hid beneath a bush, trying not to cry. But the ghosts found me. They always find you. I had to outrun them until finally I just spent the night in a canal, hanging on to the edge and swimming into the center if one came too close to me. That went on for a week or two. Then I met your uncle and he took me in.”

The boat had drifted, and he yanked the rope to bring it closer. “So now you know. When I say the canals will keep you safe from the ghosts, you can believe me.”

He gestured for me to get on the boat. My burned palm throbbed, and I tightened my hand into a fist. Any escape from the ghosts was a skill worth having.

I stepped onto the boat and it rocked immediately, threatening to spill me into the water.

Les jumped in beside me, a long canal pole in his hands. “I’m going to push us around a bit. You should stay standing so you get a feel of the boat and how easily it shifts. This canal leads to our home, and I’ll show you how it connects to your place, too.”

“Why? I already know how to find your home.”

He grinned. “In case you need another way to reach me.”

I scowled. He was too familiar with me sometimes. “So, your grandfather,” I said. “You were family. How could he abandon you like you were worse than livestock?”

Les pushed the boat roughly, and I swung my arms out to keep my balance.

“My family wasn’t very accepting of me, being a half-blood. Every day I’d clean the tiger cages and dream of getting closer to them, of taking care of them. But my family made me stay away. All the men and women who worked with the tigers scarred their forearms with tiger claws, to mark their important status.” Les gestured to the top of his forearm, dragging his fingers like claws across the skin. “As you can see, no scars for me, because taking care of the tigers meant you belonged. And I didn’t. I was less than them, not worthy.

“And here, in Rennes, they weren’t accepting of me either. Only your uncle didn’t seem to care about my heritage.” He leaned forward, using the pole to drag the boat around a corner.

“Safraella doesn’t care,” I said. “A death is a death. Marcello would have been raised to believe so, too.”

“While my grandfather spoke to the lawmen about my mother, before he left, I snuck in to see her. She always wore a pendant. Said it was a gift from her grandmother and contained old magic. I wasn’t allowed to touch it because I was only half traveler.”

He lifted the pendant I’d seen before from under his shirt. It was a disc-shaped agate, with shades of blue radiating out from the center, polished to a high sheen.

“I took it, to remember her by. I didn’t know I’d never see any of my family again, but my grandfather didn’t notice what I’d done. I’m sure he was angry when he got home and saw her pendant missing. It’s all I have left of them. All I have from my previous life.”

I raised my eyebrow, trying to lighten the somber mood we’d fallen into. “Was that your first time being a thief?”

He chuckled. “No. Travelers worship three gods. One of them, Boamos, is a god of thievery and wealth. I’d definitely dabbled before. I daresay He—and my mother, actually—would have been quite pleased at my little act.” He flicked the pendant.

“What does kalla mean?” I asked.

He jerked the pole and the boat tilted sharply. Only my quick reaction kept me on my feet. He smiled slowly. “That’s for me to know. Unless you speak Mornian.”

His mood seemed to have lightened. This was probably the best chance I’d get to broach the subject. “Les, do you think I could speak with Marcello again?”

He blinked, and his smile vanished. “I told you, he’s forbidden you to return.”

“I know, but what would it hurt to try again?”

“He could leave. Just slip out when I’m not home, disappear on both of us.”

“Would he really do that?”

“It’s his favorite threat.”

I frowned. A threat wasn’t anything, though. It could have been false, an easy way to keep Les in line. Les said Marcello hadn’t left the tunnels in years, and I doubted seeing me again would be the final pressure to crack the egg.

“What if I promise this would be the last time? I could speak with him quickly, then leave. Let him think it over on his own terms. I can control my temper.” I could convince him to help me. I knew I could.

“Why are you in such a rush anyway?” Les asked.

I didn’t want to think about the letter, about the Da Vias searching Ravenna for me, discovering I’d come to Yvain. I just had to hope it would take them longer to find me than me to find them. “Sooner or later the Da Vias will find me here. I don’t have any time to waste.”

He watched the swirls on the canal water.

“Okay,” he finally said. “One more try. But you will have to be polite and respectful, even if he’s drunk. Even if he’s an ass. If you’re not, he won’t even listen to what you have to say.”