Doll Girl scooted close and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tightly, and Azoth was glad for her warmth. A worry gnawed at the back of his mind like a rat, but he was too tired. He slept.

5

T he nightmare started when Azoth woke.

“Good morning,” Rat said. “How’s my favorite little guttershite?” The glee on Rat’s face told Azoth that something was seriously wrong. Roth and Harelip stood on either side of Rat, almost bursting with excitement.

Doll Girl was gone. Jarl was gone. Ja’laliel was nowhere to be seen. Blinking against the sunlight streaming through the guild home’s torn roof, Azoth stood and tried to orient himself. The rest of the guild was gone, either working, scavenging, or just deciding that now would be a good time to be outside. So they’d seen Rat come in.

Roth stood by the back door, and Harelip stood behind Rat in case Azoth ran for the front door or a window.

“Where were you last night?” Rat asked.

“I had to piss.”

“Long piss. You missed the fun.” When Rat spoke like that, totally flat, no affect in his voice, Azoth felt a fear too deep to shiver out. Azoth knew violence. He’d seen sailors murdered, had seen prostitutes with fresh scars, had a friend die from a vendor’s beating. Cruelty walked the Warrens holding hands with poverty and rage. But the dead look in Rat’s eyes marked him as more of a freak than Harelip. Harelip had been born without part of his lip. Rat had been born without a conscience.

“What did you do?” Azoth asked.

“Roth?” Rat lifted his chin at the big.

Roth opened the door, said, “Good boy,” as if speaking to a dog, and grabbed something. He hauled it inside, and Azoth saw that it was Jarl. Jarl’s lips were swollen, both eyes black and so big he could barely see through the slits. He was missing teeth and he had crusted blood on his face from where his hair had been pulled so hard his scalp bled.

He was wearing a dress.

Azoth felt hot and cold tingles on his skin, a rush of blood to his face. He couldn’t show Rat weakness. He couldn’t move. He turned so he wouldn’t throw up.

Behind him, Jarl let out a little whimper. “Azo, please. Azo, don’t turn away from me. I didn’t want—”

Rat struck him across the face. Jarl fell to the ground and didn’t move.

“Jarl’s mine now,” Rat said. “He thinks he’ll fight every night, and he will. For a while.” Rat smiled. “But I’ll break him. Time’s on my side.”

“I’ll kill you. I swear it,” Azoth said.

“Oh, are you Master Blint’s apprentice now?” Rat smiled as Azoth shot Jarl a look, feeling betrayed. Jarl turned his face to the floor, his shoulders shaking as he cried silently. “Jarl told us all about it, sometime between Roth and Davi, I think. But I’m confused. If Master Blint apprenticed you, why are you here, Azo? You come back to kill me?”