Chapter 5: Shadows in the Night
Barnaby placed the leather pouch on the table. It landed with a heavy, satisfying thud. The sound of fifty silver coins clinking together was the most beautiful music I had ever heard.
"Fifty. Count them if you want," the tavern owner grunted, still eyeing me with suspicion.
"I trust you, Barnaby," I said, snatching the bag. "You know better than to cheat a man who can outdrink a giant."
I didn't wait for a reply. I pushed through the swinging doors and stepped out into the cool night air. The silence of the street was a relief after the noise of the tavern. I hid the heavy pouch inside my coat, pressing it against my chest.
Fifty silver, I calculated as I walked. That's enough to buy food for a year. Or enough to buy lumber, insulation, and proper tools to fix the roof. I can finally stop the leaking.
I quickened my pace. The streets of the lower district were dangerous at night, especially for a man known to be weak. I kept my head down, my engineer's mind already drafting blueprints for renovations, completely unaware that I was not alone.
Back in the Gilded Tankard, Lucas Van Der Hoven remained on the balcony. He nudged the unconscious body of Brutus with the toe of his boot, then turned to a slender man standing in the corner of the VIP booth.
"Did you see that, Silas?" Lucas asked softly.
"I did, Young Master," Silas replied. "He didn't stumble once. His pupils weren't dilated. It was unnatural."
"Precisely," Lucas smiled, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "That was Asher Grey. The town trash. A man who usually vomits after three ales. Tonight, he drank thirteen pints of pure spirit and walked out in a straight line. Something has changed."
Lucas leaned over the railing, watching the empty street where I had just vanished.
"Follow him," Lucas commanded. "Don't engage. Don't let him see you. I want to know where he goes, who he talks to, and what he does with that money. I want to know his secret."
"At once, Young Master."
Silas melted into the shadows, moving as silent as a ghost, trailing the unsuspecting engineer.
I reached the edge of the slums. The smell of rot and damp wood grew stronger. Finally, I saw it—the crooked, decaying wooden shack that belonged to my family. There was a faint light flickering in the window.
They're still awake, I thought, a lump forming in my throat. Waiting for me.
I gripped the bag of silver tighter. I took a deep breath, composed my face to hide the emotion, and reached for the door handle