Bloodrush (Scarlet Star Trilogy #1)

Chapter 19 - In Which Rhin Receives a Message

'Spent the day hunting rats in the wine cellars. Merion is with his tutors for the day. His father says he is spending too much time in the gardens, and in the tower. Too much time playing, he says. The man is far too obsessed with his campaign. The boy's only eleven for Roots' sake. Every boy needs a little magick in his life, even if it is real.'

22nd May, 1867

It was just after dawn when they let Lurker free of the jail. Some gold had apparently greased the wheels of freedom. Lurker did not mind too much. A little expenditure was worth it. His cell had stunk of piss and the bread they had given him could have dented the bars. So it was that Lurker now stood outside of the jail, on the eastern outskirts of town, trying to shake the smell of three days' worth of piss-stench and sweat out of his clothes. The crisp morning air was doing the job.

The sun had barely begun its climb. The sky was still tinted with reds and swirling orange where brave wisps of cloud dared to face the onslaught of the sun. The streets were empty at that time of the morning. Well, for the most part anyway. Empty, save for the stern face of Lilain Rennevie, crossed arms and all.

'Well,' he rasped. 'I knew you were an early riser, but ...'

'Stow it.'

Lurker raised his gloved hands and bowed his head.

'I will have my say, John Hobble, and I will have it first. Let me see, where do I begin? Oh yes, with the luring of my nephew into the desert. Or perhaps you takin' him to the Shohari, knowing full-well your friends and their witch or their tree would tell him everything.'

'I did no such thing as lure the boy,' Lurker protested, but then quickly softened. 'But you're right on the second part,' he admitted.

'You're damn right I am. You could have turned him away. You could have ...'

'Lil,' Lurker interjected, 'I'm sorry. But the way I see it, the boy is better off knowin' the truth about his father. Might be all he's got left. Otherwise he'll end up trying something stupid. Takin' chances.

Lilain raised a menacing finger. 'Thanks to you, he's done just that,' she hissed.

Lurker tilted his hat back. 'What?'

'Drank a load of bat blood, all because you filled his head with nonsense.'

Lurker brought his hat right back down. 'How's he doin'?'

'Alive. Thank the Maker. Found him in a patch of his own vomit and shit. I won't be telling him about the latter. He's been asleep since then, pale as a sheet.'

'Can I see him?'

Lilain jutted out her chin. 'And why do you care? Don't often catch you caring about anything besides blood, gold, and that magpie of yours.'

Lurker didn't have to pause to think up a fitting answer. He already had the words on his lips. 'Because I know what it's like to be a young boy learnin' to rush, who's excited because he thinks it can get him out, get his life changed. Or back the way it was, whichever. I know what he's thinkin'. Maybe more than you,' Lurker asserted, his words gruff but firm.

Lilain scowled, wearing that trademark frown of hers. 'You ... you just keep your nose out of our business, understand?' she snarled, before storming away from him.

'Lil!' Lurker called out, and she stopped.

'What?'

This time Lurker did have to pause. He spent it toeing the dirt with the edge of his boot. 'I was thinking ...' he began.