“In more ways than one, I’m sure,” Nyx said.
Husayn winked. “That Chenjan accent turns me frigid. But you know, your little black man’s not a half-bad boxer.”
“Rhys doesn’t box. He’s a dancer.”
“He does box. He’s a magician, ain’t he? And he’s in good shape. A little small, maybe, but there are a lot of women at that weight. I’ve been working with him since he got in. I thought he was training with you.”
Nyx knit her brows. “Not with me.”
“Well, he’s not bad.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
So Rhys was boxing now, despite his long-suffering abhorrence for blood and violence. When had he started that up? It explained how he stayed in shape. He was probably taking lessons from Husayn just to spite Nyx. If she had fewer things to worry about, she might have let it get to her. As it was, she’d spent the last two nights mostly drunk and driving, trying to ward off nightmares of Kine lurching out of the tub, seeking her out with cold hands and bloodied eye sockets. It was not enough that she still dreamed of her dead brothers and her dead squad. Now her sister clawed at her as well. Too many dead.
Nyx hopped out of the ring. She landed badly and winced. She was hungover, and everything was starting to hurt again.
Nyx headed into the steam room. She cleaned herself up and slipped into the closet where Husayn had built a stairwell that went up into the attic.
Nyx found Anneke with her forehead pressed to the floor. Anneke prayed facing north in the center of a vast array of weaponry. Taite had set up a makeshift com center in a far corner, and he and Khos were playing cards on the console. It looked like they’d all slipped in while she fought. What, had they been at lunch?
Rhys had hung up a sheet to screen his sleeping area from the others. She heard him praying, too low to make out the words, as usual, and figured it must be about noon.
She was hungry. They must have eaten.
“What have you all got for me?” Nyx asked.
Khos leaned back in his chair. “What happened to the bakkie?”
“What happened to your face?” Taite said. They were playing for locusts, and one of the bugs was creeping off the table. They must have seen the bakkie in the garage.
“You still need me to fix that window?” Anneke said, coming up from her prone position.
Nyx found a seat on a threadbare divan at the center of the room. There were some deflated speed bags in one corner, and a lone punching bag hung from the long main beam of the ceiling.
“I missed you all too,” she said.
“Anneke and I checked out some of the mercenaries on the note,” Khos said, shoving his cards back at Taite. Taite poked at one of the locusts. If they were just a little harder up, he’d likely eat them. “Two more dropped their notes. If I didn’t know better, I’d say somebody was convincing them it was a good idea. We’re down to one bounty hunter and two mercenaries.”
“The ones who dropped had pretty good money in their accounts after they did,” Taite said. “I hacked into Raine’s com for about a day before he patched the leak. As of three days ago, he’s still after the note.” Nyx saw the statue of Taite’s little Ras Tiegan saint stuck up on the top of the com console. It was good to know that some things were constant.
“Where’s Raine at?” Nyx asked. She wondered how much of her own gear they’d managed to get out.
“He has someone doing recon in Chenja. But he was just in Faleen talking with Yah Tayyib.”
Yah Tayyib. Yeah, it was where she would have gone first too, if the old man would have seen her.
Rhys’s praying died off, and he walked in, buttoned down as ever, though the attic was stifling. He’d cut his hair again, shaved himself nearly bald. She hated that.
“She isn’t in any Chenjan districts I have contacts in,” Rhys said. “All they know is that a lot of bel dames are looking for an off-worlder.”
“Bel dames? Not bounty hunters or mercenaries?”
“Definitely bel dames.”
So bel dames were looking for Nikodem. And if they were looking for Nikodem, it meant they didn’t know where she was either. Were they trying to make sure Nyx didn’t get to her first? Why? To keep Nikodem away from the queen?
“How about that transmission on our dead bounty hunter? Did you decode that?” Nyx asked.
“It’s a transmission from someone who says they’re on the bel dame council,” Rhys said. He sat on the far side of the divan from Nyx. “They were asking him to drop the note on Nikodem in exchange for immunity. They knew he was smuggling out boys to Heidia and were threatening to cut off his head and turn him in unless he dropped out.”
Khos grunted.
“Any idea which bel dame?” Nyx asked.
“No,” Rhys said. “Taite ran it through our voice recognition reel and didn’t come up with any matches.”
Nyx raised her brows. “We should have every working bel dame’s signature on that reel.”
“Well, it was somebody from the actual council, not just a girl. Maybe she’s too old to be on the reel?”
“She’d have to be real fucking old not to be on that reel—or pretty new. It took some skill to pinch that.”
“Hopefully you didn’t pay too much for it, then,” Rhys said.
“I talked to Husayn,” Nyx said, before he got cheeky. “No off-worlder has been asking about boxers or about the magicians in Faleen.” She paused a minute and looked them all over. “She did say she’s losing some boxers to a big ring in Chenja.”
“You think Nikodem might be around boxers?” Taite asked.
“Either the Chenjans took her, with help from our magicians, or she went on her own to go sell something,” Nyx said. “In any case, the boxing is a good place to start. It’s something she was interested in last time, and if she’s got as much of a thing for violence as her sisters say she does, yeah, I’d start with Chenjan boxing.”
“If Raine’s doing recon in Chenja, he might have the same idea,” Taite said.
“We need to do better than Raine,” Nyx said. And Nasheen wasn’t exactly a friendly place to be right now. Not that Chenja would be an improvement, but she liked staying on the move, staying one step ahead of everyone. “I want to move operations to Chenja. Anneke, the bakkie is for shit, and you and I need to work on it tonight.”
“I don’t want to go into Chenja,” Khos said.
“Then don’t. I’ll get another shifter.”
“Nyx—”
A low, steady whine started outside. Fucking burst sirens.
Nyx raised her voice and shifted on the divan, turning back to Khos. “We already talked about this. You go or you don’t. We’re moving the day after tomorrow. Dawn prayer.” She was done with all the sniveling. They were out of time for that.
Khos snorted and hunched in his chair.
The whump-whump of the anti-burst guns shook the building. A pause. Another thump.
Nyx tried to measure Rhys’s reaction, but he was staring off into the air.
“Taite, I’ll need you to stay here and work the com, keep an ear on what’s going on in Nasheen. All right?”
“Sure thing,” he said. “Does Husayn play cards?”
The siren started to mute out, then died.
Clear.
“No, but she can teach you to box,” Nyx said, looking pointedly at Rhys. He didn’t react, but Taite made a face at her. The idea of Taite doing anything involving vigorous physical movement was a running joke.
“Anneke,” Nyx said, “let’s go get that bakkie running properly. We’ll need to give it new paint and put on the new tags. Rhys?”
He looked over at her. “Yes?”
“You here?”
“I’m here,” he said.
“Good,” she said. “We’ll need you. I want to talk to you about some things.”