Page 24 of Veil of Web and Ruin
‘Fine. Then go and shower. You reek. I’ll set some fresh clothes out for you to dress in.’ She gestures to a side room, and I can hardly believe it.
Rula has ashower, and she’s letting me use it.
A minute later, I’ve stripped and stepped in. The water is cold but not freezing, and washing myself like this is a luxury I haven’t had in months, maybe even a year. I’d love to wallow inthe sensation, but I know we’re on a deadline, and having come this far, the last thing I want to do is anger Rula. So as soon as I’m clean and certain there are no traces of the sewers or the deadly plant on my skin, I dry and dress in the borrowed clothes as quickly as I can.
When I return to the brew, I find that a dark brown tincture, remarkably similar in colour to ale, has formed at the bottom of the pan.
‘Are we good to go?’ she asks.
There’s something about her use of the wordwethat itches at the back of my brain, but I try to ignore it. I’m sure it’s just a turn of phrase. Or at least I hope so.
‘Do you have a funnel?’ I ask as I prepare to pour the brew from the pan into the vial. ‘So it doesn’t spill everywhere.’
Rula raises an eyebrow. ‘Do I look like I’d have a funnel?’ she replies incredulously. ‘I pay people like you to make my tonics so I don’t have to worry about stuff like that.’
Well, that’s me told.
Careful not to spill any of the brew, I pour as slowly as I can into the vial, only stopping when it’s full to the top.
‘There’s more here,’ I tell her, lifting the pan. ‘We should dispose of the rest. Pour it down the drain outside.’
‘Yes.’ Rula steps forward and takes the pan from my hand. ‘Of course. But you can leave that there for me to sort later. I’ll see to it that it’s not misused. We need to get going, or we’ll miss our chance.’
I hate the thought of leaving even more poison in Rula’s ruthless hands, but what part of this haven’t I hated? The part where Kay gets a job, I remind myself.
‘It’s done,’ I say, fixing the cork in the top of the vial and handing it to Rula.
‘Then we should get going,’ she replies. There it is. Thatweagain. And I’m too tired to even object.
So far, all Rula’s told me about this man – apart from him being a murderer – is that he likes to drink, and he’s currently being ‘entertained.’ And as I have a horrible feeling I know what type of entertainment she’s talking about, it’s with a ripple of trepidation that I follow her out of the slums and into the outer ring, towards a large building with a corrugated roof and several women outside in scant clothing despite the cold. Women. It feels like the wrong word to use given that half of them are younger than I am.
They’re part of the reason I’m doing this, I remind myself. For the ones like them who died. And to make sure Kay won’t ever join their ranks.
Inside, the tavern is in even greater disrepair than the one I visited in the fourth. There’s no bar to speak of, just men and women wandering around with trays of drink, offering them in exchange for coin.
‘That’s our mark,’ Rula says. ‘Frederik Provik.’
Somehow, I suspect I would have spotted the man even if she hadn’t pointed him out to me.
While the rest of the patrons look like they have nowhere else to go, this man has clearly chosen to be here.
It’s not just his furs or the silk trim he wears around his neck that make him stand out from the rest of the patrons. His hair is slicked back, combed to perfection in a way no one from out here has the time or inclination to do, and other than the smudges of lipstick on his cheeks, his skin is clear, not pitted and mottled from the cold. Then there’s the pile of coins in front of him.
If the sight of fruit at Rula’s had made me salivate, this is enough to have me outright drooling – and every other person in here, too, I suspect. For a brief moment, I wonder why no one has made a move to steal any of it, but then I spot the knives on his belt and the one on the table in front of him.
Something tells me he has the training to use them.
Still, it’s not the money or the weapons that hold my attention the most, but the man himself. The way his eyes continue to scan between the young women as he wets his lips. It’s the same way a predator surveys its prey.
As he traces a line up one of the women’s arms, I watch her hold in a shudder. Clearly able to sense the reaction, Provik doesn’t stop. Instead, he pulls the woman dressed in black closer and whispers in her ear. Her whole body turns rigid as a new sense of tension grips me. I don’t need to hear what’s being said to know he is every bit the monster Rula said he was.
‘You need to get the vial to the serving girl in white,’ Rula whispers to me, her eyes not once having moved from the mark. ‘She’ll doctor the tankard.’
With each role I fulfil, the goal shifts, and I’m finding myself more and more embroiled in this murder.
Reading the disbelief on my face, Rula explains, ‘I can’t go.’ Her voice is low, controlled, and unbending. ‘I’m too well-known. I’ll watch from here.’
I grit my teeth.For Kay, I remind myself for what has to be the thousandth time this night.I’m doing this for Kay.
