Milo looked normal again. Markedly healthier than before, even. His skin glowed pinkish; veins that had been solid charcoal faded to a smoky gray, all the way back to blue in some places. His limbs were limp, and the dagger fell from his hand with a soft clink.
His eyes had closed, at some point. His mouth, too. He looked like he was asleep.
Gabe stepped forward, licked the side of his finger, held it beneath the still man’s nostrils. “He’s breathing.”
Relief made her knees go watery. “So we fixed him?”
Gabe turned, not meeting her eyes, and started toward the office. Bastian’s arms cut swaths of shadow through the lamp-glow, telling some story or other, and Mari’s tinkling laughter seeped from the crack beneath the door. He didn’t answer.
Milo showed no signs of waking up, not even when Gabe and Bastian heaved him up by his arms and legs and carried him out of the warehouse. Mari had suggested letting him stay in one of the cots, but Val refused. “He’s poison-addled, and there’s plenty here to steal,” she retorted, and said that there was a warehouse down the alley where people often went to sleep off too much drink. “If he remembers anything, hopefully he’ll think it’s a hallucination. Gods know he’s familiar with them.”
Grumbling, Gabe and Bastian lugged the man’s deadweight over the rough cobblestones, their breaths pluming in the air. Their boots on the street and the huff of exertion harmonized with the gentle sound of the tide coming in, distant bells on ship prows.
Val led them down the narrow lanes, approaching a dark warehouse and gently pushing open the door. It creaked, but if the sound woke anyone inside, they didn’t protest. Bastian and Gabe settled Milo on the floor, then left quickly, soundlessly. He didn’t stir.
“You’re a sneaky lot,” Val commented once they were all outside. “Have either of you considered poison running?”
Gabe looked stricken, but Bastian shrugged. “Not as such, no, but never say never. Although my current schedule wouldn’t allow for it.”
“That’s a shame.” Mari shook her head. “Our crew is dwindling rapidly these days.”
“Arrests?” Lore asked quietly. Val’s operation might be newly legal, but bloodcoats had been known to arrest anyone they didn’t like the look of.
“If only it were that simple.” A laugh huffed from Mari’s mouth, twisting into the air like smoke. “Our most loyal are still around—everyone you’d know, mouse, don’t worry—but the newer folks keep getting lured away.” She tightened the knot on her headscarf again, lips twisting wryly. “I guess getting paid enough to cover your rent for a year with one night of work is a hard bargain to pass up.”
The words registered with all three of them at the same time. Bastian’s eyes widened. Gabe’s lips went flat. Lore’s pulse thumped in her wrists. “You know about the cargo movements?”
“Cargo,” Val said derisively. “It’s contraband, has to be. No one pays that amount of money to move anything legal.”
“Oh, it’s absolutely not legal.” Mari snorted. “Phillip let some of the details slip when he came by to quit, and you’d think he’d signed his own execution warrant when he realized. I had to promise up and down for nearly an hour that I wouldn’t tell anyone before he’d go.”
“Do you have any information about where they move it to?” Gabe sounded like he was conducting an interrogation. Lore scowled at him. He paid no mind. “Or anything about who is actually doing the hiring?”
Val gave him an icy glance. “I believe Mari just said she promised a friend not to disclose anything.”
The skin on Lore’s shoulders prickled. The last thing she needed was for Gabe to goad Val into a fight. She was certain Gabe would lose.
Bastian apparently thought the same thing. “Of course we would never want someone to go back on a promise,” he interjected with a smile. “I apologize for my friend’s impertinence.”
If looks could light someone on fire, the glance Gabe shot Bastian would’ve left him in cinders.
Mari crossed her arms, thoughtfully chewed her lip. “This is information you need, though, isn’t it?” she asked Lore softly. “For whatever they’re having you do up at the Citadel. Which means it’s more than just hauling contraband.”
“Yes,” Lore said. She’d never been able to lie to Mari. She saw through to the core of things, even when you tried to hide them.