Braids stood. He kicked the full bottle of Luster, sending it spinning into the darkness. The other men rushed over, their excitement like sparks in Perry’s nose. He’d figured he would end up brawling tonight. He knew how people reacted at the sight of him. What man wouldn’t stand taller after beating the spit out of someone like him?

Perry grabbed his knife and stood. “Let’s get to it. See what you can do.”

Braids squared off, flashing a wicked piece of steel with serrated teeth. More a saw than a knife. He looked steady and moved smoothly, but his temper was streaked through with fear.

Perry grinned. “You changing your mind?”

Braids came at him like a shot. Perry felt the bite of the knife on his arm, but not the pain of the wound it opened. A solid wound. The blood that poured from it was dark in the Aether light. For a second, all he could do was watch his blood leak out of him. Run down his arm.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Perry had never fought anyone drunk. He moved too slowly. His legs were too heavy. Maybe it had worked for his father because Perry had been a boy. How hard could it be to hit a kid who’d stood there, wanting it? Looking for anything he could to make things right?

He choked back a sudden rise of bile, realizing the choice he’d have to make if Braids managed to get a knife against his throat. Pledge fealty or die. An easy decision.

“You’re nothing like I’d heard,” Braids said. “Peregrine of the Tides. Twice Marked.” He laughed. “You’re not worth the air you breathe.”

Now was the time to shut him up. Perry spun the blade in his hand, almost dropping it. He made a move. A thrust that wasn’t nearly as fast as it should’ve been. He almost laughed. Knives had never been his weapon. The movement brought another wave of nausea, this one powerful enough to double him up.

Braids rushed him as he choked back the urge to vomit. He drove his knee into Perry’s face. Perry managed to turn his head. Took the brunt of the blow on the temple. He’d spared his nose, but he hit the ground hard. Saw the creep of darkness threatening to take him away.

The kicks kept coming, landing on his back and arms and head. They came from everywhere. Perry felt them dimly, shadows of pain. He didn’t stop Braids. This was the easy way. Staying down. Perry’s head rocked forward as a kick came from behind. The blackness came again, softening the edges of his vision. He willed it to come. Maybe it would make more sense if he felt on the surface as he did inside.

“You’re weak.”