Kess sat up slowly, trying to process Maude’s words. She tried to keep her hood pulled low, but some of her features inevitably showed as she searched Maude’s face. “I…” Kess trailed off, frowning into her ale again. “What happened with Forgebrand?” A look of confusion passed over Maude’s broad features.

  “Did you not know? Lass, everyone in the clouding underground knew it. I can’t believe he never said anything to you. Forgebrand was a front—they were using the guild to pass supplies, soldiers, and money through legitimate channels. They didn’t just worship Mariel—they wanted to see her rightful heir back in the Seat and were willing to leave the rest of us to burn to do it.”

  “But Drav wasn’t even active in Forgebrand,” Kess said. “He always said it was just a humanitarian venture.” Maude just held her eyes flatly, then cuffed her gently on the head.

  “Do you really believe that now?”

  Kess stared through the bar itself, like she could see all the way to the bottom of the dark streets that wound into the mountain. I can’t believe it, she thought. None of it was talk. He just didn’t share any of it with me. Why? Maybe all of her talk about Mariel’s death had scared him off. Maybe her inability to see a future for the lower city other than one of violence and betrayal had kept him from sharing his deepest dreams with her.

  And now he had paid for it with his life.

  She took another sip of the tasteless ale, fighting a lump in her throat. “I never knew,” she said, her voice a whisper. Maude shrugged.

  “Draven was a good man. Maybe too good of a man for down here.” She pulled up a stool behind the bar and sat. “Certainly much better of a man than me, which brings me to my point—tell me what you want so you can leave. You’re lucky you’re no longer Marked—the Witchblades spent a lot of time passing out fliers with that description—but if you spend too much time down here, someone’s going to recognize you. It’s only a matter of time, even with the hood. If you’re looking for somewhere to crash, you’ve got the wrong place.”

  Kess waved her hand at the woman dismissively, shaking her head. “Nothing like that.” She met Maude’s dark eyes. “I need information. And maybe something else,” she said, eyes lingering on the ring across the tavern.

  “What information?”

  “Can Fulminancy be given to another person?” Maude scowled, folding her fingers together.

  “You come all the way down here to waste my time with fairy tales?”

  “So it’s not possible?” Maude twisted her mouth to the side, eyes watching the doorway.

  “I’m not saying it’s not. What do I get in return if I answer your questions?” Kess smiled somewhat sheepishly from beneath her hood.

  “Gold?” She flashed a coin in her hand. Maude’s eyes remained flat.

  “And?”

  “Information.” Kess held the woman’s eyes, her smile gone. Maude took the coin and palmed it away.

  “I imagine you’re not hurting for that anymore after that fight in Redhill,” she said, chuckling. “Anyway, you have my interest. I’ve heard enough talk to suggest that it’s not actually a rumor, but no way of personally confirming it. What else?”

  Kess chewed her lip, thinking. “Besides the patrols, do you notice fewer Fulminancers down here in the last few years?” Maude twirled a knife in her hand, but it wasn’t threatening. It was something she did to think, a habit Kess had unfortunately picked up.

  “Well, yes, but can you blame them? Threats from Uphill, stories about disappearing powers, an empty Seat of Mariel. If I were Fulminant, I’d stay as far away as possible from this cloud-forsaken place.” She shrugged. “But people disappear down here all the time. I wouldn’t say it’s a new thing, just a new group of people.” She tapped the knife against the bar, watching the entrance impatiently. “Forgebrand seems strangely interested in Fulminancers since Draven’s death, though. They come in here, asking questions about any I might have seen—any sparks in my ring, any strange fights that haven’t quite gone as expected.” She shook her head, expression darkened. “They’re as bad as the Witchblades lately.”

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  “Why Forgebrand?” Kess wondered, watching the woman’s knife. “What business would they have with Fulminancers?”

  Maude shrugged. “It’s hard to say, but it’s bad for business. There’s no love lost for Fulminancers down here, but no one wants to feel like they’re being watched. Maybe it’s a business deal of some sort—money talks. Even Forgebrand could be bought for the right price, but if that’s the case, who’s buying them? And more importantly—who’s in charge of them with Draven gone?”

  Kess wasn’t sure that who was in charge of Forgebrand really mattered. They’d always been a mostly flat organization, save for their head, and even after Draven’s death, they seemed content to move without any sort of direction. Still, there were whispers of someone at the helm again, so unknown as to be anonymous.

  Whoever it is must have cut some sort of deal in Forgebrand’s favor, Kess thought. There was no other reason for Forgebrand to help kidnap Fulminancers for the Uphill. Doing so was risky—an operation that could sometimes level entire buildings if the Fulminancer was upset enough. The Uphill knew better than to force the issue, instead luring many Fulminancers with promise of wealth, fame, and better jobs Uphill.

  Something had changed.

  Forgebrand might not care about Fulminancers.

  But the Council did.

  Whoever helmed Forgebrand’s operations was playing a dangerous game—one Kess couldn’t see ending well for either party. She watched the throng of people pass noisily outside of Maude’s tavern for a moment as the woman cleaned a glass.

  “Have you ever heard that Fulminancy sometimes chooses people?” she finally asked.

  Maude paused in her cleaning, then sighed deeply. “It’s going to be that kind of night, is it? I know you’ve had a rough time of it lately, but that’s just a fairy tale. Fulminancy doesn’t have the ability to think any more than the cloudspawn in the sky do. If you want to talk ghost stories, though, go see Malane. It’s not my area of expertise.”

  Kess stiffened immediately. “I’m not seeing Malane again,” she said. Maude simply shrugged.

  “Suit yourself, but she’d be more helpful than me.” Kess waved the woman off. She would not, under any circumstances, visit that witch again. The last time had ended with her penniless, half-drowned in a ditch, beaten senseless.

  “What about Duds?” she asked, trying to clear her head of that night. “Have they been disappearing?” Maude frowned, her eyes back on Kess’s face.

  “People without Fulminancy disappear the same as they always have. Most of the time because they want to. They rack up too much debt, or the family gives them problems. They find themselves in a new ring with a false sash. It’s nothing new. What about my information?”

  Kess sighed, knowing the conversation was over. Maude wouldn’t be able to help her find Oliver, or even unravel her mysteries. It seemed that no one was capable of that, these days.

  “How many minings do you have tied up in that fight in Dawnring tomorrow?” Kess asked.

  Maude froze and glared at Kess, pale under her tan.

  “What do you know about that?”

  “A fair bit,” Kess said, avoiding her eyes. “Pull your money off of Hilda’s ticket and put it on Len instead.”

  “Len makes you look like a big woman, Kess.”

  “And fights aren’t always about size, are they?” Kess said, smiling slightly. Kess knew both women from her time as a Bloodcrawler, and even Arlette had confirmed her suspicions—she’d rattled off a few numbers that made Kess dizzy, then changed her own betting cards to Len. Maude held her gaze for a moment, clearly doubtful, then sighed and dug around in a cabinet to retrieve a few stamped tickets.

  “I’ll have to get these done tonight before they close the bets,” Maude grumbled. “This better be worth my time.”

  “Have I ever disappointed you?” Kess asked. Maude leaned over the bar again, regarding Kess, then laughed a little. She finished off Kess’s forgotten glass of ale with a mock toast.

  “I suppose not,” she said. “Thanks for the warning—and, if you’d like my own, stay far away from whatever you’re digging up. Some answers aren’t worth your life.”

  “Maude.” The woman raised an eyebrow at her while Kess watched the ring, something like longing in her heart. “How hard would it be to set up a few disguised fights in the city?” Maude looked from Kess to the ring, and understanding dawned in her expression, then a sour look.

  “Probably a lot more gold than you have,” she said.

  Kess looked her in the eyes and said, “Try me.”

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