Fate’s Edge (The Edge #3)(68)
Author: Ilona Andrews

Being left by your own parent as a child . . . Her mother had checked out on her emotionally more than once, but at least she didn’t leave.

"Then a rival family killed their father. Richard was sixteen, and Kaldar was fourteen. Erian was nine, I think. Aunt Murid, their father’s sister, took them in. She was tough. She’d escaped into the Weird when she was young and fought in the Dukedom of Louisiana’s army for years, until they found her out, and she had to escape again and come home. Murid was hard. I used to be really scared of her when I was little. Anyway, she raised Richard and Kaldar as her own. Richard was kind of already an adult, I guess. He’s very serious. Smartest man I know. Kaldar was always like he is now, funny, hehe-haha, oh look, I stole your money out from under your nose. The family didn’t starve because he and Cerise, his cousin, they hustled and sold things in the Broken. Don’t ever haggle with him. It’s a bad idea. Anyway, so Cerise and Kaldar did whatever they could to keep all of us fed. Kaldar always tried to impress Aunt Murid. He barely remembers his real mom, so she was as close to one as he ever had. Then Spider brought the Hand to the Mire, kidnapped Cerise’s parents, and it all went to shit."

This Spider got around. "What did he want?"

"Everything," Gaston said. "Most of all, he wanted the Box. It’s complicated. Just think of it as a really powerful weapon. We couldn’t use it, but we couldn’t let the Louisianans have it, either. The Hand declared war on us. Spider tracked my family down. My dad is a half thoas – that’s why I look the way I look – and we always lived apart from the main house. I was supposed to stand watch. I left because of a stupid errand. Spider got into our house and cut off my mother’s leg. Chopped it off at the knee with a meat cleaver."

"Oh, my God!" The tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose. "That’s horrific."

"The Hand plays for keeps," Gaston said. "Anyway, we fought them and won, but in the final battle, Aunt Murid died. Kaldar watched it happen and didn’t get to her in time. He killed the Hand freak that murdered her. Ask him sometime, he’ll show you the scars on his arms. But it was too late."

Oh, Kaldar.

Gaston bit his lower lip. "He’s not right. Watching Murid die broke something inside him. He still pretends that everything is cool. You can’t tell by looking at him because he acts normal, but the rudder on his boat is stuck. He enlisted in the Mirror, supposedly because he wants to make sure what’s left of the family is well taken care of, but that’s not the reason. He wants revenge on the Hand, and he doesn’t care what happens to him or how he gets it. He will kill them any chance he gets."

"Gaston," she said gently, "I know that you care for your uncle, but Kaldar, he’s a grifter. He isn’t a killer."

Gaston blinked. "We hold to the Old Ways in our family."

"What does that mean?"

"Kaldar’s uncle, the head of our family, has a nickname."

"Aha."

"It’s Death."

"I’m sorry?"

"They call him Death," Gaston said. "Because when his sword comes out, people die. We train as swordsmen as soon as we can hold a sword and not fall over. We learn to stretch our flash out onto our swords and use it in fights. Kaldar isn’t as good as Grampa Ramiar. He isn’t as good as Cerise. Technically, he isn’t as good as Richard, his older brother, because Richard flashes white and Kaldar flashes blue. But aside from them, Kaldar has never met anyone he couldn’t beat."

"Aha." Tall tales must’ve run in the family.

"He’s killed dozens of people," Gaston insisted. "Probably over a hundred."

"I’m sure he did, Gaston." Sure as the night is light. She couldn’t picture Kaldar with a sword. A crowbar, maybe. A gun. But not a sword. "And you are supposed to keep him from killing more?"

"I wasn’t even supposed to come. I’m not officially an agent yet, but Cerise talked her husband, William – he’s my guardian – into it. I’m supposed to keep an eye on Kaldar, in case he snaps. So he knows all about things being taken away from him. He just won’t admit it."

"Gaston, if Kaldar doesn’t care if he lives or dies, how are you supposed to keep him safe?"

He shook his head. His face gained a lost expression. Suddenly, he seemed so young, just a kid really, about Jack’s age. "I don’t know. But I have to try. Most of my family acts like I don’t exist anymore. My dad banished me because of what happened to my mom. Kaldar always talks to me. He comes to all of my annual trials. He’s my favorite uncle. I don’t have many left anymore."

"I will help you," Audrey said. It came out as a complete surprise, but she didn’t regret it. "If he loses his head, I will help you hold him back."

Gaston raised his huge hand, stained with the Mirror’s clay. "Deal?"

She grasped his fingers and shook. "Deal."

KARMASH pondered the woman. She had small brown eyes and hair of an odd shade, unnatural bright red. Given that she hung upside down, her feet caught by a rope at the ankles, her hair dripped down from her head like a mop. For mid-thirties, she wasn’t roughly used, he reflected.

They’d grabbed her off the street, as she left Magdalene Moonflower’s building in the Broken, and brought her here, to the abandoned building in the Edge that Karmash had designated as their temporary base. Only he and Mura had managed to cross the boundary into the magicless world. Soma and Cotier had been too altered.

Karmash winced at the memory. Entering the Broken was always painful for him. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have even contemplated it, but times changed.

The woman made a tiny noise, like a frightened cat.

Karmash pulled up a filthy chair and sat on it, so their faces were level. "You work for Magdalene Moonflower."

"Please let me down. I didn’t do anything. Please let me down . . ."

"Shhh." Karmash put his finger on her lips.

She closed her mouth.

"Let me explain a few things," he said. "I’m a member of the Hand. I’m a spy for the Dukedom of Louisiana in the Weird. That tells you that I don’t care about your life. That also tells you that I’m magically enhanced enough to crush your skull with a squeeze of my fingers. Make a note of that; we’ll come back to that point later."

She stared at him in terrified silence.

"I was very successful as a spy. I made a nice name for myself. Then, twenty months ago, my officer became a cripple. Some Edgers severed his spine, you see. The Hand chose to view my performance in that affair as less than satisfactory. I lost my assignment, my prestige, and my paycheck. I have expensive tastes, and I hate to compromise on luxury. Now I have a new assignment, a very prestigious assignment with a famous officer. But I’m very new in this crew. You understand how that is, right?"