“I’ll make an offer, let her answer, then gauge if others are willing to sign the deal,” Luis said. He was lively, shifting his footing, his eyes bright. “Swansong, we do not like things being hidden from us and we feel Chris Elman and Amy Dallon Lavere hid things from us. We would punish them. Moderate them. Do you like them?”

“One betrayed me, one betrayed my friend, but a truce could be made.”

Not really helping to smooth things over, I thought. But I wasn’t sure being dishonest would have been better. Being diplomatic and choosing words more carefully would help.

“That might be ideal,” Luis said. “We could give you a share of what we’ve agreed to give them. Islands, people if those people are willing to live under you, and some people do want that security. There is a servant class that is cloned, smart enough to obey orders, too stunted to have an identity or personality beyond the surface level. We don’t know what to do with them. We would give you some, Chris Elman would feel their absence, and you could barter with him for what else you needed.”

Chris could be heard chuckling. “Assholes.”

The epithet was translated in a selection of languages from beside or behind every other group, including the guards behind us. Luis could speak our language, but people in his entourage couldn’t. The word was spoken, brief, and the tenor of things changed slightly.

Him being here and giving so little of a shit in a formal setting wasn’t making things better.

And because I looked his way, I could see Amy’s face, pale enough the freckles stood out. I was reminded of Presley on the train, looking at me in my peripheral vision. Except this time the reason for my skin crawling was real.

“If I could—” Miss Militia started.

“Miss Militia,” Luis interrupted, with unusual gravity. “This is an offer between me and her. We don’t need custom.”

“She needs counsel.”

“Your counsel would slap me in the face. We would thank you for bringing the guests here and we would escort you out so we could talk to our guests.”

“There’s no need,” Miss Militia said. I saw the weapon at her hip flash green-black, as if it almost changed forms.

Okay. Shit.

“This feels too generous,” Ashley said, her head turning.

“We believe in making debts right. As Miss Militia said at the outset. She asked for goodwill but this would be goodwill and solving a problem in one fell stroke. It would also itch at my curiosity, would this satisfy the part of you that went to a city and collected thugs to take a part of it?”

Ashley.

“I think so. But I’d miss my team.”

“It would be yours to share, or for one of you to take with the agreement of the others,” Luis said.