Yes, Ark did have bottle. It nestled like a hornet around his neck. But now was not the time to find out what it could do.

“I … f-fort the ravens had ’im!” stuttered Alnus.

“Don’t look like it, does it?” Salix smirked. “I guess we get to sort the sewer boy as a warm-up exercise. I’ll slit his throat and you can stick him in the guts. It’s what I call a fair division of labor. ‘Ow does that sound to you?”

Alnus nodded gleefully.

“I don’t know ‘ow you escaped death, again, but I promise you’ll be keepin’ yer appointment now!” Salix advanced with his knife in his hand. The boy was too slippery for his liking. But where could he run to now?

“You don’t really want to do that, do you?” Ark leaned on one leg and rubbed his vine-creeper shoe on the back of his calf, trying to get the shine back on the leather.

“Wot you got to be so confident about?” said Alnus.

“Let’s just say, it’s finally over for you two.”

The boy should be pleading for his life, not making threats. Alnus was puzzled.

Salix was impatient, though. “Game’s over, squithead. We do you, then the two bodyguards, and before the last firework blasts into the sky, old King Quercus will be dining on a bellyful of steel.”

“And your boss will reward you?”

“That’s the whole point. Councillor Grasp, the King’s most trusted advisor, is gonna give us plenty of readies after this! He’ll be the main man running this place once Maw takes over. And the Commander’s men can ‘appily deal with the bunch of pompous ponces out there!” Salix flicked his thumb toward the double doors.

“I’m so glad you explained what you’re up to.” Ark briefly let his eyes flicker toward the high roof and the alcove hidden in the beams above. “It means I can now deal with you.”

“Oh please, give it a rest.” Salix had had enough banter. He rushed at Ark, blade held low. If the boy tried any countermoves, he’d be ready.

42• PAYBACK

As the soldier grabbed him from behind, the King knew he’d been betrayed. But by whom? He’d fully expected one of the bodyguards to slip the knife in, now that they were away from the crowds. Instead, he’d been roughly manhandled up a set of winding stairs, then pushed through an open doorway. So that’s what they had in mind! In front of Quercus, two pillars held up a small alcove that looked out over the serving room below. One push and he’d have been over the edge. A broken neck would cut the King’s reign short.