Raktkalis wasn’t even aware of the others peddling his affairs. In all likelihood, he ventured out in this field of business very recently. Perhaps only after going through my files.

  Still, the nobleman had resources to go after the digital trace. There weren’t all that many satellites left. I could direct Raktkalis to the peddlers of his details.

  Did I really want to sabotage all these convenient springs of knowledge though? If it’s between me and them, my wellbeing won. Besides, it appears I was all but invited to trespass on the palatial properties. I could look up everything I wanted. For free.

  Profiting off that was a different matter altogether. Still not something I’d dare to try personally. Not when I was deliberating the end of such malefactors.

  On the other hand, he will eventually decimate me anyhow. This was but a temporary truce. The balance between us was still outstanding.

  Held back from pointing at the obvious suspects – the brother, other heirs, the allies and business partners. The lord has already considered them. I didn’t want to step on heels of even more Raktkalises anyhow. One was too much.

  “Hu. Ar. Yoh. Oh-ther. Buyers?” I coughed out scratchily. Really wish this man got down from his high horse. I wasn’t even legible to myself.

  “Households of Valai and Pakonys. Don’t know who exactly.”

  It sure was a pity he smashed my portable database! I could have looked that up right now.

  Slunk out from the cover to sift through the shards. Predictably, the data card was damaged. I pocketed the fragments with precious elements and directed a sour expression towards the grate. Nobleman was clearly unused to seeing people go through the trash, and I additionally rolled my eyes.

  Sat back on my heels and forced the memory to work. One surname was definitely familiar.

  “Vah-lai has lots ‘f d-daug-gh… Girls. T-two went t-to schoohl wit yuh. C-could be. Ah. Sih-mple. Ah. Dmirer.” Or could be a deliberate attempt to seduce, spy and manipulate. That was the quickest way to advance for a small-time businessman. The daughters – an investment.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  I stopped speaking to rest and think. Disappointingly, I wasn’t about to dazzle anybody with my natural memory.

  “Oh-ther one I knoh noh-thing ah-bout.” Which probably meant they were even bigger nobodies, with no business antagonising that lineage.

  “Military family. Nothing out of ordinary.”

  Nothing that he could find.

  “I’ll loohk ih-nto it.” I waited, but had to prompt him. “D-dat k-kahn’t b-be all.”

  “Isn’t. I took care of some. The rest can’t be tracked. Like you.”

  I went back to the divider. From the very edge of safe distance, offered the phone back. Just enough for him to graze a corner with fingertips. He, of course, still could slash me – but he could just as easily have shot me.

  Vengeful leftie was waiting for an opening, too. I kept that side turned away.

  Intense expression on Raktkalis betrayed a calculation of malice as he reclaimed the phone without looking at it.

  I hissed out in a whisper, “G-g-go b-back out and access t-the t-transaction lohgs. I need to see them.” The requested information, timings and even names could hold a hidden meaning. They could also simply be someone I know.

  The twisting tunnels blocked all signal. I took a massive risk letting Raktkalis go to potentially mobilise his forces. However, at this point, I believed we were playing entirely different game altogether.

  And just in the case I was terribly wrong, the exit to my side of barricade was nowhere near here.

  The coat flapped loudly as he turned on his heel and strode out. It struck me then – he trusted me enough to show up here, in the shadiest part of town. Alone. Descend underground. Turn his back on me. Right after an assassination attempt.

  Raktkalis was not right in the head.

  Wasn’t left to ponder his wellness long. He returned, scampishly holding the phone just out of reach.

  “Doh yuh want toh g-geht c-cut?”

  “I’ve done you a favour disposing of that junk you cobble together,” deathly pale man brazenly declared. It failed to hit a nerve. His designer gadgets lacked functionality that mine possessed.

  “Show me,” Raktkalis demanded after the provocation went unheeded.

  “Leht goh of yohr b-blade,” I croaked back at him. The audacity. First he stitched this unholy abomination onto my flesh, then wanted to lop it off. Again!

  The fabric rustled as his other hand slid off the weapon, rising into the spotlight. If he wanted to, he’d be fast enough anyway. The man who danced with the devils was quicker than me.

  Turning to fully face Raktkalis, I theatrically raised a three-fingered appendage and flipped him off.

  I would not be remotely as brash had there been no solid barrier between us. I knew that much. This was no man for humour. He was an impulsive thrill-seeker with no regard for life, perhaps even his own.

  While the high lord was mesmerised by blatant disrespect, I snatched the device away and ran.

  “It’s not completely unruly,” a hoarse statement reached my ears.

  “I t-toh-ld yuh. It d-doehs t-that – soh-met-times.”

  “What are you unhappy about, then?”

  Unhappy. Unhappy?! Me? Was this idiot for real?

  “B-b-beh-cuhz yuh cuht my furghin arm ohff!” I snapped, my words turning into a complete incoherent blur.

  “It’s mine to do with as I please.”

  “Stoh-p t-tah-king,” I warned the moron, lest I decide to walk off. Luckily for him, my mind was already deeply immersed in the data of a novice broker and his crafty punters.

  The pseudonyms didn’t reveal much. The interests of one revealed it might be a rival peddler.

  “Wehr d-did yuh lohse. D-de. T-tragh. Ohf,” I coughed, sighed and cleared throat some more. Ended up loudly whispering, “T-track. Of. T-three. Five. Four. Four. One. One. And. X. Y. A?”

  I suspected these two entries were a same individual. Not due to cryptic choices of the names, most were like that. The contents complemented each other.

  “Podariakh servers.”

  Obviously. Couldn’t have been any other way.

  “I have bad, and even worse news,” I typed out to speak. Didn’t need an answer anyway. “The Order is involved.” Meaning, a multigenerational assassin cult would not be revealing the source of the original commission.