When had her life become a series of adventures?

Lapis flew down Tailor Street, focused on why, in the matter of a few weeks, she had gone from nondescript chaser and provider of reading material for rats, to fighter of rebel, soldier and guttershank. She was becoming Patch, and she did not particularly want that.

The Lells merchants near Mimstone had closed their business doors and peeked through the front windows, hands to their lips, afraid. Most of the outdoor shopkeeps had vacated their stalls, only a scattering remaining to watch over merchandise, and they hid beneath the colorfully striped tarps and awnings, looking with sick dread towards the central space. The few shoppers huddled beneath counters, quiet, anticipatory, and she quelled the nervous tick in her tummy.

Those Black Hats better not have injured a rat.

She entered the square, huffing. Merchants gathered to one side, some standing protectively before cowering rats, others hunched against the walls of the buildings. A few shouted at four people wearing black berets standing in the center; one man held Ness by the arm, hand raised, another gripped Phialla around the waist as she shrieked, struggling. Eri, one of the Wings rats, picked herself up off the ground, shaking in rage.

She did not consciously cross the square; her attention remained on a terrified Ness and his captor. She unsheathed her weapon, flowing with the motion. The man glanced at her, an ugly smile marring his face. She swung; her tip dug across his face as the edge severed the flesh and bone of the raised appendage. She barely registered Rin grabbing the young rat, while rock-wielding Lyet and Jesi joined Eri in attacking the one holding Phialla. Her target howled and she turned, ramming her knee into his stomach. He fell, spraying blood from his stump across the dust.

The one who restrained Phialla fumbled for his breast pocket while bending over to protect his face from being stoned, but did not pull the weapon before Jarosa smashed her fist into his face. He crumbled, releasing the rat. Lyet grabbed her, and all four ran to the safety of the nearest open door, the keep motioning to them to hurry. The man again tried to grab his weapon, too late to avoid the Ramiran rebel’s boot. He sagged, unconscious.

“Lapis, duck upper right!”

Patch’s shout echoed through the square. She pitched forward in that direction as bright red shot overhead, nearly hitting the man howling on the ground. Jarosa swore and snagged her arm, heaving her towards a saggy canopy, the only nearby bit of protection. She heard the pits as the shots impacted the dust behind them, and a pause before the canvas burst into flames.

The last attack blazed over their heads in a wild miss; a man toppled from the top of a clothing venue, limp. He landed hard on the packed earth and did not move. She and Jarosa streaked into the same open door the rats had reached, then whirled, leaning against the jamb, scouting quickly about; the crowd had vanished, hopefully under the direction of Lord Armarandos. Lapis did not see the knight nor Patch, but she knew they were out there.

More men wearing black berets stormed into the square, most looking about, a couple raced to their fallen comrades. They came to a halt near the center, and a thinner one with his hands on his hips stepped forward and shouted.

Lapis blinked. Ramish. Why did he yell Ramish at them? How many Jilvaynans did he think understood Ramira’s language? Why not shriek in Lyddisian, like good little empire peons? She glanced at Jarosa, who glared in sullen annoyance.

“What’s he saying?”

“Something about sparing lives if we tell him where someone named Jerin is.”

“What?” Lapis stared at the Ramiran rebel leader, her mind whirling. Had Willington’s thrown him into the street because they received a visit from a man wearing a black hat? Was that how the boarding school found out about Danaea’s death, prompting their decision to toss their student away?

“You know him?”

Lapis leaned closer, to keep her words as quiet as possible. “It seems too much of a coincidence,” she whispered. “I met a lad this morning named Jerin who got kicked out of his boarding school because they discovered his mother recently died. He was wandering the Lells, and the rats asked after him because he looked lost. I recognized his name from Danaea’s papers. She’s the woman who took out the previous Jiy rebel leader, and Jetta completed the stake on her. I thought Jerin was her shank associate. He’s not. He’s her son.”

The woman’s startlement made her feel low. “I see.”

“He’s around twelve, and I doubt he knew what his mother did for a living.”

“If she hid him in a boarding school, probably not.”

Movement caught her attention. Before the Trees Street Guardhouse attack, Sir Armarandos walking confidently and alone into the square to confront violent, tech-armed men would have shocked her, but after fighting with him, she knew he was that bold. Jarosa muttered under her breath, glanced into the darkened recesses of the store, and back outside. “Can’t let Mandi have all the fun,” she said.

Sir Armarandos was not the only one overflowing with boldness. How well did she know the knight, that she used his nickname?

“I’m going with you,” Lapis said. “But wait just a moment.” She scurried behind the counter, where several merchants, rats and customers huddled together on the floor. Ness had buried his face in Lyet’s chest, and he shook, hard. Phialla cried, and the shopkeep had her arm about her shoulders, rocking her in comfort. “Are you all alright?” They nodded. “Eri, they knocked you down.”

“I’m fine, Lady.”

“Lyet, where’s Jandra and Nerik and the new kid?”

“They went to Gabby’s old cubby,” she said. “Gabby took Rin’s, so we know it’s empty and in a safe place.”

“Someone needs to find them and tell them to stay put.”

“I’ll do it,” Jesi piped up.

The Wings were brave rats, were they not. “Stay there with them. Don’t leave until I send someone to get you.”

She nodded and rose; Lapis gently took her arm and drew her away from the crowd. “Jesi, they’re looking for that new kid. I mean it, when I say don’t leave until I send someone to get you.”

Her eyes bulged, then she nodded. “He steal something from them?”

“No. This is about his deceased mother, not him.”

Jesi took off and Lapis looked about. “Where’s Rin?”

Lyet granted her an exasperated look, and her emotions echoed it. That stupid rat, where did he go?

She trotted after Jarosa, who strode with purpose towards Sir Armarandos. He held his special zappy tech stick, cool, poised, and the men wearing the black hats observed him with suspicion. They obviously did not hail from the Jiy underground, or they would know who he was and show a bit more deference.

Behind the knight stood Patch, easy and unconcerned. He held his mini crossbow pointed down, but with the string drawn. Too many stakes assumed the size of the weapon meant it had no range, and combined with his lacking one eye, they thought he could not strike them. They found out the hard way that tech, a sight, and one eye was all he needed to down them.

His nonchalance bothered the men he faced; more than a couple tightened their grip on their two-handed firearms and focused on his eyepatch. An attention-snatching blue light pattern raced around the edges, though, if things became rough, the attackers would find the tech hidden below the black leather far more deadly than they assumed.

She did not see Rin; she half-expected him to be standing next to Patch, mimicking his stance, cocky and too self-assured. Well, one less person to worry about. She planted herself next to her partner and waited, certain she would not hear a thing over the beating of her heart in her ears.

Sir Armarandos broke the awkward but anticipatory silence. “Juove pleura Armarandos, Neurne tieuble juexte Jiy Guard. Juove pluetie que pluetruge, juove pleuflin rivarle juexte fojiusto.”

Lapis did not understand the words, but she heard the intent clear enough. The knight was not in a good or forgiving mood. The man who had yelled for Jerin firmed his lips, none too happy to confront the leader of the Jiy city guard. He put a hand to his chest and bowed slightly, though his men did not show any deference. His gaze flicked to Jarosa, who had taken a position one step behind the knight and appeared as relaxed as Patch. She decided she needed lessons on aplomb in tense and demanding situations.

“Surle speutiui, Sir Armarandos. Surle avrerchop vion mouii, ruien Jerin. Trecleute Requet inrne umuavue unuo crin.”

Jarosa snorted and murmured something under her breath. Sir Armarandos hmphed and nodded. The lead Black Hat narrowed his eyes at the woman briefly, but Lapis knew she had seen the disrespect. She missed little and forgave less.

“Snipers up top, near twenty,” Patch said. The knight and rebel nodded. The Black Hats looked at him, but only a couple seemed to understand the words.

They did not speak Lyddisian or Jilvayn, but thought they could somehow squeeze information out of rats who only understood those languages? That made no sense. “Patch,” she whispered as the conversation between the factions continued. “Jarosa said they were looking for someone named Jerin. He just showed up at the Lells. He’s like twelve, and Danaea’s son.”

“Wonderful. So her shit’s coming back to haunt her kid?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s hidden?”

“Yep.”

“Kids alright?”

“Yeah. Scared, but OK.”

“Spondre???” Jarosa shouted.

Oh-oh.

Patch laughed. Of course he did. The woman thumped her chest, continued to yell in Ramish, and after her words, every Black Hat paled.

Her partner continued to laugh. Lapis shifted her weight, readied herself, wishing she understood what set the rebel leader off. Her father had complained about the heat Jarosa brought to conflict, and this was no different. Alaric, depending on his mood, would talk her down, but she did not think many others tried.

A red light impacted Jarosa’s chest.

She folded her arms and looked up at the building the errant shot came from; good thing she wore a marching shirt. Patch raised the crossbow and pointed at the man, who ducked back behind a stack of crates. The Black Hat leader shouted, his tone demanding obedience.

Too late. He did not stand long enough to regret the insubordination’s consequences; Jarosa took him out with a tech weapon strike to the face.

Sir Armarandos swore as he and the rebel ran for shelter under a barrage of bright red shots. Lapis raced after Patch, who slipped around the nearest stall with wooden shelving in the back, providing a minute amount of protection from the deadly lights. They headed for the narrow alleyway behind the stall and rushed into it as red flares tore apart the wall corners.

“Dammit, Jarosa,” Patch growled as he slid from the alley and grabbed the attachment to the awning shading the nearest door. He heaved himself up, reached for the shutters, and climbed the outside of the building. Lapis took a huge breath, glared at his butt, and raced inside. Melly’s indoor stairway led to the business on the second floor, as well as a fire door at the top landing. Patch had to know that; if the rats did, surely he had used it before.

She ran up them, hissing her annoyance at cracked blue walls. She was not about to fall because a rusty hinge gave way under her weight. Another item she needed to drill into Rin and Lykas’s heads; do not follow Patch’s lead in all things. Think for yourself. TAKE THE STAIRS.

The door was open, a black-dressed body haphazardly lying to the side, hands roughly bound by a stray rag; he still breathed, which surprised her. Why keep him alive? To answer questions? She slammed it shut, skidded to his side, and dropped to her knees behind the stacked boxes he chose for cover. She impressed on him how displeased she was with one heated, firm-lipped stare, which washed off him as it normally did, accompanied by a mischievous grin. “One day that isn’t going to work.”

“Maybe.”

Ever the optimist.

Lapis peeked around the wooden containers; lights zinged about, creating small holes in the dirt and causing the Black Hats to dodge the friendly fire. No one else remained in the square, so who were they shooting at? She noted no bodies, so Sir Armarandos and Jarosa must have made it safely to shelter. If they hid in the same space, she imagined the back-and-forth between them would not abate for some time, stone-headed against stone-headed.

“The shooters aren’t wearing black hats,” Patch said. “And they’re using typical Dentherion hand signals. I doubt they care about their comrades or the fact they just attacked the head of the Jiy city guard. Adrastos is going to have a field day with this.”

“Did you get your patch re-modded, to be more sensitive to heat?” she asked suspiciously.

He half-smirked, that expression he used when he knew he had done something she would disapprove of but not severely enough to protest, then looked at the door. “Several someones are on the stairs,” he warned. “By their weapons, I’d think rebels.”

She pushed away from the box shields and scurried to the door, hunched over; she plastered herself to the side, raising a hand and unsheathing her blade.

“Huh. It’s Ciaran,” Patch called.

“Ciaran? How do you know that?”

He did not answer, so she flipped the door open, blinding the five that had just made it to the landing. Ciaran indeed led them, and he squinted, hand in front of his face. She needed to remember that; bright light after dim interior would work to her advantage in chasing guttershanks.

“Why are you here?”

Red streaked by, and the group bustled out and to Patch. Lapis returned to his side as shouts and yells, calls, and missed shots flew about. Blue joined red, sharp flashes of color that zipped past.

“Rin ran back to the House,” Ciaran said as he squashed himself against a box. “He was winded and upset, but did a credible report. Faelan, when he realized you were here, mobilized us.” He studied Lapis. “Brander was reporting in when Rin showed up. He said that Seft inherited a few contacts that Hoyt exploited, and one of them was with the Black Hats syndicate. Faelan’s wondering if they’re here to find our wayward underboss.”

“The snipers are using Dentherion hand signals, so I’m betting they’re from the skyshroud,” Patch said. “They don’t seem to care whether those Black Hats are hit or not, so it’s a one-sided agreement, if there is one.”

“They’re looking for someone named Jerin,” Lapis said. “The Dentherions cleared the city guard from the Lells before the Black Hats started shaking down the rats for info. Why they think the rats know, and why they think they can ask them in Ramish and get an answer, is beyond me.”

“The point may be to scare them, and through them, Jerin,” Patch said.

“He’s around twelve,” she told the new arrivals. “It’s ludicrous to use these tactics to terrify a twelve-year-old.”

The rebels looked at her. “You know him?” Ciaran asked.

“He just showed up at the Lells this morning,” she said. “He got kicked out of his boarding school after they found out his mother had died, and they didn’t let him grab his things. He doesn’t have money, extra clothes, or anywhere to go. So he’s out on the streets, with no ability to care for himself, and now he’s being hunted.”

“I wonder if those Black Hats showed up at the boarding school,” Patch said. “That would explain why they wanted him gone so quick.”

“What do they want with a kid?” one of the rebels asked. She hovered over the unconscious sniper, securing his hands and legs better.

“I don’t know, but I think it has something to do with his mother,” Lapis said. “Danaea.”

Ciaran’s disbelief made her feel low. “Jetta’s going to feel the guilt on that,” he said. “Where’s he now?”

“Hidden. Some rats were setting him up with a cubby, and I sent Jesi to tell them to stay put until I give the OK.”

“You might want to get him now,” the rebel said. “Take him to the House while these asses are busy here.”

Patch nodded. “Yeah. The rebels can protect him. If the guard vacated when Dentheria told them to, they aren’t up to keeping him safe. We can figure out how to help him when this business is done.”

The boxes before them tore apart, bits of wood flying everywhere. Lapis ducked, her arms protecting her head, as the assault continued. Just as abruptly as it began, it stopped. How long would the cover hold? She supposed they could hide in the doorway that led to the roof, but only one, maybe two, could use it at once.

“Lapis, Patch, go get him.”

She regarded Ciaran, annoyed and scared. “But—”

He shook his head. “If these guys catch him, and he doesn’t know whatever they think he does, he’s going to be another body thrown into the Pit.”

Patch lowered the crossbow, grabbed the thin, finger-long bolt and shoved it into the side-mounted quiver, released the string, and pressed a small button on the top, just below the sight. The black metal limbs folded in, and the rail and stock compressed thinner, the scope flattened and sank with the quiver into the middle. The rail then folded in half, making a compact rectangular object he shoved into the long, narrow pocket in his left pantleg. She still pondered how the thing retained a workable sight after being squished like that, but he never missed when using it.

The wonders of tech, she supposed.

He smacked her leg and jerked his chin to the door. Then he warbled like a townbird and looked to the building across the way; a tousled, red-haired head popped up and he pointed to the ground before following her.

Good thing she spoke enough about rat signals her partner knew them.

Relief that they removed Rin from the fight, coupled with the worry that they might put him in more danger, mingled in her chest. She forced herself to breathe and relax. Nothing would happen to him, not with Patch accompanying them.

The rat was already waiting behind the railing of the ground floor walkway, hunched down and alert. He leaped up and ran with them as they made for the building across the way and skirted the front before ducking into a wide alley.

“What’s up?” he asked as they pelted down the backway.

“We’re going to go get the kid they’re hunting,” Lapis said. “Gabby brought him to me after you took Whitley to the House. He didn’t seem scared about anyone after him, so I doubt he realizes he’s being chased.”

“Where’s he at?”

“Gabby’s old cubby.”

Rin nodded sharply. “I c’n gets us there quick,” he said.