“That’s not exactly news,” Kylar said. No matter that he and Blint never spoke about the jobs they did, and that anyone who knew of their work firsthand was dead. Word got out. Word always gets out. Another wetboy would attribute a job to them. A client would brag about who he’d hired. They had enemies they’d wronged, and more enemies who only thought that Durzo had wronged them. It was one of the costs of being the best. The families of deaders never attributed a successful hit to a second-rate wetboy.

“Do you remember Roth?”

“One of Rat’s bigs?” Kylar asked.

“Yes. Apparently, he’s smarter than we ever realized. After Rat died . . . well, everyone left like the guild was burning down. The other guilds moved in and took our territory. Everyone had to scramble to survive. Roth didn’t make any friends when he was Rat’s right hand. He nearly got killed half a dozen times. Apparently he always blamed you.”

“Me?”

“For killing Rat. If you hadn’t killed him, no one would have dared come after Roth. He never believed you were dead, either, but he hasn’t been in a position to find out who you became. That’s changing.”

Kylar’s chest was tight. “Does he know I’m alive?”

“No, but he’ll sit with the Nine within the year, maybe sooner. There’s a spot open right now that he’s trying for. From a position of that kind of power, he’ll find you. I haven’t even met him, but the stories I hear . . . He’s a real twist. Cruel. Vengeful. He frightens me, Kylar. He frightens me like no one since you know who.”

“So that’s why you invited me here? So you could tell me that Roth is coming after me?” Kylar asked.

“Yes, but there’s more to it,” Jarl said. “There’s going to be a war.”

“War? Hold on. What’s your part, Jarl? How do you know all this?”

Jarl paused. “You’ve spent the last ten years under Master Blint’s tutelage. I’ve spent the last ten years under Momma K’s. And just as you’ve learned more than fighting, I’ve learned more than . . . fornicating. This city’s secrets flow through its bedchambers.” That was Momma K speaking, sure enough.

“But why are you helping me? A lot’s changed since we were guild rats stealing bread.”

Jarl shrugged, looked away again. “You’re my only friend.”

“Sure, when we were children—”

“Not ‘you were.’ You are. You’re the only friend I’ve ever had, Kylar.”

Trying to beat back his sudden guilt—how long had it been since he’d thought of Jarl?—Kylar said, “What about everyone here? The people you work with?”

“Coworkers, employees, and clients. I’ve even got something like a lover. But no friends.”

“You’ve got a lover and she’s not your friend?”