Gates of Thread and Stone(16)

“What happened to your face?” DJ asked, his eyes on me.

People here usually knew to mind their own business. “I thought it needed a change,” I said.

DJ snorted and moved into his kitchen.

Avan propped up his elbows on the counter. “We need information about the Black Rider.”

DJ stopped shuffling through the cupboard. Then he straightened and flung the cupboard door shut so forcefully that the couple on the bed jumped, rumpled heads popping up.

They were both guys. The one on top glared at us, his messy hair all over his face. “Closed party.”

“Get out,” DJ said. At first, I thought he was talking to us, but he was looking at the bed. He flicked his head at the door.

The guy gave him an incredulous look. I would probably react that way, too, if I’d been in the middle of . . . Yeah. He tugged his partner up by the arm. They were slender but wiry, with black hair and buttery skin, their faces flushed. Even though I’d seen much more skin, especially down by the docks, their intimacy embarrassed me. They were more than a prostitute and his customer.

I tried not to stare but couldn’t help noticing the way one of them looked at Avan. It was a full-body look.

Avan’s lashes lowered, but not before his eyes met mine.

“You’re welcome next time,” the guy said to Avan before the door closed after them.

Avan tucked his hands into his pockets, his mouth tipped into a half smile. He looked uncomfortable, which was weird because Avan had always seemed unaffected by the attention. He glanced at me again and then looked away just as quickly.

“What makes you think I know anything about the Black Rider?” DJ asked, grinning.

I filled in DJ on what had happened at the Raging Bull. When I finished, he lifted his cup of water in a salute.

“Congratulations,” he said, and took a large gulp.

I tensed. What did he mean? “I’m getting my brother back.”


DJ groaned and set down his cup with a loud clink. “Oh, you’re one of those.”

“So he’s real?” Avan asked. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“Well, that depends,” DJ said. There was that dirty smile again. It reminded me of Joss.

I opened my mouth to snap at him, but Avan interrupted me. Probably for the best.

“We don’t have anything to give you,” Avan said.

“Then I guess I got nothing to tell you,” DJ replied.

I wasn’t going to walk away with nothing.

“A thousand credits,” I blurted. It was a good chunk of what Reev and I had saved to get out of the Labyrinth. A couple more months and we would’ve had enough for a decent place in the Alley. But that money meant nothing without Reev.

DJ looked at me. “Twelve hundred.”

My lips tightened. “Deal.”

“I’ll go with her to complete the transfer as soon as we’re done here,” Avan said. “You know I’m good for it.”

DJ grinned. “I like that about you, Avan. You keep your word.”

“So is the Rider real?” I asked impatiently. I wasn’t giving him a credit if his information wasn’t worth it.

“As real as you and me,” DJ said.

I felt ill. “Is he inside Ninurta?”

“Of course not.”

I curled my fists against my stomach. I’d been holding on to the hope that the Rider operated from within the city—underground, definitely, but at least within the walls. Within reach.

“But how was it possible to get Reev out?” Avan asked.

“Oh, easy. The exits are everywhere.”

That didn’t make any sense. The wall protecting Ninurta from the Outlands was higher than the one around the White Court. And the only way in or out was through three guarded gates. So unless the Black Rider could walk through walls, there was no way he would have gotten past the Watchmen.

“Let me ask you this,” DJ said. He steepled his fingers in front of him, as if he was about to impart some great wisdom, which I seriously doubted. “Do you know what the sentinels are for?”

Of course I did. Everyone did. “They’re Kahl Ninu’s personal guards.”

DJ nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, but why would the Kahl need a personal guard?”

“He’s Kahl. He could walk around in nothing but a pink wig, and no one would question it.” For all I knew, maybe he did. Only those in the White Court ever saw the Kahl in person.

“I’d question it,” Avan said.

“Okay, bad example,” I mumbled, “but you know what I mean. Why shouldn’t the Kahl have a personal guard?”

“But what are they protecting him from?” DJ pressed.

“You tell me,” I snapped. Why did he keep answering my questions with more questions? I was giving him twelve hundred of our hard-earned credits for information, not riddles.

Before any of this happened, I would’ve said Ninu’s dogs were for show. But if the Rider really was targeting him and the citizens, maybe the sentinels had a purpose after all. I recalled the sentinel outside the Labyrinth and saw again the way he’d reached back and caught that rock without even looking over his shoulder. The sentinels were certainly as well trained as they were reported to be.

“They’re not just his guard,” DJ said. “They’re his personal army. If they were only guards, why would Kahl Ninu need more recruits? Why continue to build a guard unless . . . ?”