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Back Four Roads Cross Save as PDF
Chapters (75)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. 63
  66. 64
  67. 65
  68. 66
  69. 67
  70. 68
  71. 69
  72. Acknowledgments
  73. Also by Max Gladstone
  74. About the Author
  75. Newsletter Sign-up

Her touch on Cat’s arm was firm and light. She used the pads of her fingers, not her talons. “It’s hard to fly,” she said. “But you can learn.”

*   *   *

On the Alt Coulumb docks, in the hold of a ship, a hundred bodies waited, and other minds waited within.

24

24

No pig wants to start the morning trussed.

This one woke on its back in a forest clearing. Nearby, past screening shrubs and evergreens, large wagons rolled down a highway. The pig did not know highway or wagons, but it knew the sound. Rough, heavy cord bound its trotters. It squirmed and surged and wriggled. The coils on its left foreleg began to slip.

A knife flashed in the cold, too bright for pain. The pain came later. Then—nothing.

Two women stood in the clearing. The pig bled on bare earth. The blood from its opened throat traced drunken spider trails along the soil toward a circle of burned pine needles around the corpse. When the blood reached the circle’s edge, it pooled as if it had run against glass.

The younger woman sheathed her work knife. Her hands were clean. She pondered the blood patterns within the circle.

“Camlaan First Credit and HBSE are on board, Ms. Ramp,” she said after a long silence of mental calculation. “Shipping arrangements have been settled.” She pushed back her hood. The face revealed was smooth, and smiling. “Looks like we’re ready.”

The second woman said, “Well done, Ms. Mains.” She reviewed the blood herself. “Competently read. Though your knots are loose. He almost slipped free.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll review my knot work today.”

When the older woman withdrew from the circle she brushed the fingers of her gloves together as if rubbing off a stain, though she had not crossed the circle herself or approached the blood. “Onward, then.”

Ms. Mains removed her work robe and packed it inside a valise that was larger inside than out. She made sharp folds and dangerous corners. “Alt Coulumb, ma’am?”

“In haste. The church needs time to ponder our proposal.” She produced a coin from her sleeve, examined its head and tail, and closed it in her fist.

“It’s so nice to take country walks,” said Ms. Mains brightly as she lifted the valise. “I think someday I’ll move out here. Get a nice house. Settle down. Raise chickens in the backyard. Even pigs.” She drew her fist to her mouth as if to catch the laugh that escaped. “After I retire from the firm, of course.”

The older woman opened her fingers. The coin was not there. “Leave all this? You’d be bored blind in a week.”