"That's because you're a scoundrel," Erian said dryly.
Kaldar put his hand to his chest. "Oh, Erian. From you, that hurts."
Erian shook his head. "I don't know about a slit throat, but Ceri will cut your balls off if you keep meddling."
Now that was something William could believe. "Where is she?"
Both men took a bit too long to chew their food before Erian answered. "She's in the small yard. Cutting things."
"So," Kaldar leaned back. "You're a blueblood, and you said you aren't rich."
"He isn't?" Erian glanced at him.
"No," William said.
"So how do you earn your cash?" Kaldar asked.
I lay floors in the Broken. "I hunt."
"Men or beasts?" Kaldar asked.
"Men."
Erian nodded. "Any money in that?"
William washed his pancake down with a gulp of water. "Some. If you're good."
Erian's eyes fixed him. "Are you?"
Keep pushing and you'll find out. William stretched his lips, showing his teeth to Erian. "How badly do you want to know?"
"Oh, now that's not nice ..." Kaldar clicked his tongue.
Footsteps approached the stairs. William turned to the door. "Company."
"I don't hear anything," Kaldar said.
"Perhaps if you shut up?" Erian wondered.
The stairs creaked. The door swung open and a massive form dwarfed the doorway. Urow pushed his way into the room. Haggard, his gray skin pale, he staggered to the table, his right arm in a sling. Kaldar got up and pulled a chair from the table. Urow sat.
All the strength seemed to have gone out of him, as if he'd grown too heavy for his muscle.
"Blueblood," he said, offering William his left hand across the table.
They clamped hands. Urow's handshake was still hard, but William sensed weakness in his grip.
"You all right?" he asked.
"Been better." Urow's eyes were bloodshot and dull.
"How's your wife?"
"Hurt."
He thought as much. Clara was hurt and Urow's world had been split open. He could've taken on a lot of punishment, but failing to protect his wife broke him. "Sorry to hear that."
"I have a favor to ask," Urow spoke slowly, as if straining to push the words out. "You already helped me once, so I'd owe you two."
"You owe me nothing. What's the favor?"
"I'm leaving my youngest son here. He needs to stay busy, so if you need something done, tell him to do it for you. The harder the job, the better."
Strange. "Fine," William said. "I'll do that."
Urow reached into his pocket, pulled something out, and pushed it across the table. It was a round thing, about two inches wide, made with braided twine and human hair. A black claw stained with dried blood protruded from the circle. It smelled of human blood and looked like one of Urow's claws, except he had all of his.
"Keep this for me, so my son minds your orders."
Behind Urow, wide-eyed Kaldar furiously shook his head. Erian's face was carefully neutral, while his hand was making "don't take it" motions beside the table, out of Urow's view.
"What is it?" William asked.
"It's a thing. A sign." A faint tremble laced Urow's hoarse voice, and William realized that this was the closest the man could come to begging. The urge to get up and walk away gripped him.
"I've got nobody else to take it," Urow said. "Family won't work, and the rest of the Mire, well, there isn't anyone I'd trust with my boy. They would use him badly." Pain filled his eyes. His voice fell to a rough, broken whisper. "Do this for me, William. I don't want to kill my son."
William sat utterly still. Pieces clicked in his head. He'd read about this custom before, in a book about the tribes on the Southern Continent of the Weird. When a child committed an offense punishable by death, his family could surrender him to another guardian and keep him alive. The child would serve the guardian until maturity.
Urow's youngest boy had done something punishable by death and Urow could no longer keep him. The only way the kid would survive would be if he belonged to someone else.
William sat very still. When he was born and his mother didn't want him, she could've thrown him in the gutter and walked away. In Louisiana, he would've been strangled at birth. He survived because he was born in Adrianglia and because his mother cared enough to surrender him to the government instead of tossing him into a ditch like garbage. For better or worse, they took him, they fed him, they gave him shelter, and while his life had never been easy, he never regretted being born.
It didn't matter that the kid wasn't exactly a changeling and this was not Adrianglia, and he didn't know Urow or what to do with his son.
It was his turn. Only a fool didn't pay fate back, and he wasn't that fool.
William took the amulet.
Urow exhaled slowly through his nose. Kaldar pretended to hit his face against the cabinet. Erian leaned forward, rested his elbows on the table, and put his head on his fists, hiding his face.
"If you ever need anything ..." Urow pushed to his feet.
William nodded. The rest went without saying.
Urow turned and walked out of the room.
"You shouldn't have taken that." Erian raised his head. "It's done now."
Kaldar sighed. "You're a good man, William. Stupid but good."
William had just about enough. "You talk too much."
"I've been telling him that for years," Erian said.
A door swung open the second time and one of Urow's kids came in. Gaston, William remembered. The kid was about sixteen or so, judging by the face, still leaner than Urow but already a couple of inches taller and on the way to his father's massive build. Same temper, too, judging by the shallow scars on his muscular forearms. Fighting with his brothers probably. William scrutinized his face: hard jaw, flat cheekbones, deep-set eyes, startling pale gray under black bushy eyebrows. The kid could pass for human, if the light was bad enough. Bruises marked his jaw and neck. Somebody had pummeled him.
William pointed to the chair across the table. "Sit."
The kid sat, his shoulders hunched, as if expecting to block a punch. His left hand was missing a claw. The wound had barely had time to scab over.
"Hungry?"
The kid eyed the food and shook his head.
William got another plate, loaded it, and passed it to him. "Don't lie to me, I'll know."
The kid dug into the food. William let him eat for a couple of minutes. Slowly the kid's posture relaxed.