“Bayar,” Han said. He did not smile. Anger blazed in his gut like brandy. He could hush Bayar, here and now. It would be easy. No one in this place would stop him. He’d be well away before they even reacted. The trick was to make eye contact with any would-be heroes, then walk away slow until you got outside, then—

“Blood of the Demon! You’re burning me! Let go!” the server said, ripping her arm free from Micah’s grip. She stood, blinking back tears, staring at the blistered handprint on her upper arm.

Micah seemed as surprised as she was. “I—I’m sorry,” he stammered. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean—”

“Just shut it,” Han said. “She don’t want to hear it. You Bayars like to go after them that can’t defend themselves. Like barmaids and ragpickers and lytlings.”

His words rang out loud in a sudden quiet, and the apology drained from Micah’s face. Micah’s cousins moved up on either side of him, though they stayed a step behind.

They won’t go down on the bricks for him, Han thought. Micah Bayar wouldn’t last long as a streetlord.

The crowd rippled as the server turned and fled, forcing her way to the door.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Micah said. His eyes strayed to the departing serving girl, then wrenched back to Han. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Why don’t you try me instead?” Han said, waving his knife slowly back and forth in front of Micah’s face, a blademan’s trick. He kept his other hand wrapped around his flash as the patrons melted back.

“Hunts Alone,” Dancer said behind him, his voice soft and steady so as not to startle him. “Remember why we’re here. He’s not worth it.”

Han released his grip on the amulet, but kept the knife in play.

“Did you follow me here?” Micah demanded. “If you did, I’m warning you—”

“I go to school here, same as you,” Han said.

Micah blinked at Han stupidly, the drink slowing him down. “You? Do you even know how to read and write? They can’t have lowered the standards that much.”

“Well,” Han said, “they let you in.”

Anger wiped the sneer off Micah’s face. “You’re a thief,” he snarled, his black eyes glittering. “A thief and a murderer. We’ve been looking for you all over the Seven Realms.” His gaze dropped to Han’s amulet. “That amulet belongs to my family, and you stole it from me. Now give it over.”

Micah reached for Han’s amulet. Han made no move to stop him. As Micah’s hand closed on it, flame jetted from the jinxpiece, and Micah jerked his hand back, swearing and sucking his burnt fingers. Twice more he tried, and twice more the serpent amulet prevented him from taking hold of it.