One Salt Sea: An October Daye Novel

I turned my back on them as I grabbed the phone. Bucer’s voice was immediately in my ear, announcing, “I cost two hundred an hour, cash on the barrel, and I don’t do anything that might get violent.”


“Hello to you, too, Bucer,” I said. “How about I give you fifty dollars for answering some questions, and I don’t get violent?”

“Sounds fair,” he said, without hesitating. “How’s it been, Toby? Long time no hear. Word on the street says you’ve moved on to pissing off bigger and better folks.”

“If you mean the Queen of the Mists, yeah, I’ve managed to get on her bad side a time or two. What do you know about what’s going on with the Undersea?”

“I know I’m hopping on the next bus bound for Denver. I figure the fish ain’t likely to push it all the way up into the mountains.”

“The kidnappings, Bucer. Somebody’s kidnapped the sons of the Duke and Duchess of Saltmist, and that’s why we’re having all this trouble. Do you have any idea who that might have been?” It wasn’t a surprise that he was already planning to get out of Dodge. That sort of self-interest was exactly what Devin tried to instill in us when we worked for him. Obviously, it worked on some of us better than on others.

Bucer hesitated. “I don’t know if I should—”

“A hundred dollars, cash. Tonight.”

He sighed. “Word on the street is that it wasn’t any of the crew that’s been working this Kingdom in the last couple years.”

I turned to lean against the counter, bringing Tybalt and Raj back into view. They were watching me, not making any attempt to hide their eavesdropping. That was fine. It would save me time when it came to getting them up to speed. “So you’re saying it was someone from outside the Kingdom?”

“Not exactly.” He hesitated again, longer this time. “Look, Toby, I get that you have a thing for lost causes and shit, but maybe this is one you should leave alone. Dangerous people and dangerous places, y’know?”

“Two hundred dollars, cash.”

He took a deep breath. And then, reluctantly, he said the last thing I wanted to hear: “The folks that might know, the ones you’d think would get hired for something like this . . . they’re saying a little redhead girl did the deed. Came around the markets, dropped some cash in some pockets, and then poof. The kids were gone.”

A little redhead girl. . . “Did they have anything else to say about her?” I asked, through lips that felt suddenly numb.

“You don’t want to know this.”

“Answer the question.”

“Just that she had them yellow eyes,” said Bucer. “You know the ones.”

Yes. I did. Every Torquill I’ve ever met has the same eyes, the color of honey wine. That includes Rayseline, Sylvester’s red-haired daughter, who disappeared after she tried—and failed—to kill her mother. “Are you sure?”

“It’s not like I exactly went digging for this shit, seeing as how I’m not in the mood for a shallow grave in the Marin headlands, but I got it from multiple sources. Red hair. Gold eyes. Giggle like she’s already seeing you with your throat cut.”

That was Rayseline all right. “Give me your address. I’ll send your money.”

“This better not be a trick.”

“Honestly, Bucer, I don’t have the time to fuck with you. It’s not a trick; you’ll get your fee. And if you learn anything else before you head for the hills, call this number and pass it on. As long as you keep talking, I’ll keep paying.”

“Shit,” he said, suddenly hushed. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Cash?”

“Cash.”

He gave me the address. I hung up, after repeating my offer to pay him for any additional information he could dig up. Then I turned to Raj, and asked, “Can you do me a favor?”

“What?” he asked warily. Smart kid.

“I need somebody to run payment to Bucer. I figure if you go as a cat, you can dart in, drop the cash, and dart out without him getting the drop on you. I’d do it myself, but it would take too long. Right now, I have more pressing commitments.”