Four Roads Cross (Craft Sequence #5)

“We found you in the hold of a smuggler ship called Demon’s Dream, captained by Maura Varg. That sound familiar?”


“I do not know either name.” Hasim seized the rails at the side of his bed. Muscle in his thin arms corded as he pulled himself upright. “If this is Alt Coulumb, we seek asylum.”

“We’ll get there,” she said. “But we need to know more about you. How you got into that hold, for example. You’re responsible for some confusion.”

“Last night,” Lee said, “when Officer Elle tried to wake you up, demons crawled out from inside you. Caused a lot of trouble before we stopped them.”

Hasim’s fingers trembled as they traced the scabs around his mouth. “What my partner’s trying to say”—Cat frowned at Lee, who crossed his massive arms, unconcerned—“is that we’re wondering how you got in that ship. I know this is hard, but if you think back—”

“There is war in the Gleb.”

“I heard.” She wished she’d heard more, or paid attention when she had. Even Criers mangled the names. “Didn’t realize it had reached Agdel Lex.”

“Refugees have,” he said. “I run a clinic for small gods. In the backcountry, desert spirits devour the bodies of gods fallen in the Wars. They claim one town at a time. They come to the villages to eat their gods, or bind them to service. Some survive. Some run, and many to our city. I take them in, if I find them.”

“When did you start using dreamdust?”

Cat made a mental note to talk with Lee about interviewing witnesses. Lee spent most of his shifts Suited.

“I have never taken dreamdust,” Hasim said. “It is a distraction.”

“How did a smuggler end up with your indenture, then?”

“I do not know.” Hasim peered around Lee’s shoulders to examine the rest of the room. Eight beds, each occupied. He relaxed—recognizing the others, Cat thought.

“The rest are nearby,” Cat said. “I have names of the ones who’ve woken up so far. I’ll give you that once we’re done here, but I need the whole story. You ran, what, a hostel?”

“A sanctuary. We took in those we found. Such an endeavor requires protection. To afford that protection I, ah, borrowed. The demand grew. One day, it struck me all at once. The children collapsed first. I tried to save them, but I was not strong enough. I remember nothing until I woke here.” He shook his head. “I have never dealt with demons.”

“Thank you, Doctor. The nurses will bring you the list. Could I have the name of the bank you worked with in Agdel Lex? The one that issued the loan?”

“Grimwald Savings.”

Cat kept her poker face, barely. The Grimwald Concerns dotted the world, shadowy presences with massive holding networks and questionable morality. She’d never heard of a Grimwald convicted of anything, but they hovered in the background when you read about Craftsmen going down in flames. Legitimate businessmen, people called them, with an emphasis on the first word that no one ever used when talking about, say, a bakery. “Thank you. As for asylum—you’re in Alt Coulumb under the protection of Seril Undying.” For whatever good that does you. “She’ll accept any thanks you offer.” And she needs it, Cat did not say.

“Seril,” Hasim said. “I thought her epithet ironic.”

“Nope.” It felt good to tell the truth to someone who wasn’t already part of the conspiracy. “She’s alive. The doctors say most of you will be good to go after a physical. We’ll reach out to the Talbeg immigrant community in Alt Coulumb. The Church of Kos has guest houses for new arrivals, too. Your choice. If you need anything, go to the Temple of Justice and ask for me—Catherine Elle.”

As they descended the hospital front steps, Lee gripped the back of his own neck in one hand and squeezed. His biceps were a sharp-cornered prism under his uniform shirt. “Refugees, Cat. I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

“They’re a foreign problem, from a foreign war. Don’t we have enough of those?”

“They’re here,” she said. “You want to send them home?”

He grunted.

“Just you wait. If the next few days go poorly, we won’t have to help them after all.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’ll be in the same boat. Come on.” The Suit covered her like liquid bliss, and its strength made the world seem simple.

*

The moon rose in Cat’s mind as she ran across midday rooftops toward the temple. She leapt in a silvery arc over a rushing train and lost herself in the logic wash of Justice, her mind a riverbank down which a clear stream of dispatch orders and deductions ran—flash of gutted corpse in Hot Town back alley, calculated vectors for an arrow’s flight, analysis of last night’s criminal activity patterns, comparisons of faces and fingerprints, the thrum of arriving and departing ships, a chorus of half sentences. Then she jumped again, and the river stilled into the silver silence of a smile.

You want to talk with me? the Goddess asked.

She did, though she hadn’t realized it yet. You need help, Cat said.

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