Douglas Hulick - Among Thieves

Long Noses, on the other hand, keep their heads down and their information tight. They ply their trade by infiltrating a rival crime lord’s organization and feeding information back to their real boss. Being a Long Nose takes that special mixture of guts and stupidity usually reserved for mongooses and imperial tax collectors. You typically don’t find out someone’s doing the Long Nose until he turns up floating in the harbor.

The third kind of Nose is the Narrow Nose. That’s what I do for Nicco-keep tabs on his people, find out who is or isn’t cheating him, and generally solve minor problems before they get big. It doesn’t exactly make me popular with my fellow Kin, but it does give me something the other two types of Noses don’t have-backing. If anyone wants to come after me, he has to think about what Nicco will do to him in return. That’s not a bad place to be. However, like everything else, it has its trade-offs, one of which is that I have to answer to Nicco-a lot.

It’s that last part that comes back to haunt me, usually at the worst possible times.

The door at the top of the stairs opened, and I was ushered into the office by the two Arms. It was a bare-bones affair: a desk, two chairs, four blank walls, and a small window looking out onto the street. A wooden platter with the remnants of Nicco’s breakfast sat on the desk, giving the room a greasy, meaty smell. Two men were waiting in that smell.

Nicco was standing at the window, heavy hands clasped behind him. I blinked at the beam of sunlight streaming in, but didn’t look away. That would have been disrespectful.

In his prime, Nicco had been a slab of bone and muscle, easily big enough to make two of me. Now, he was a late-afternoon shadow of himself-still big, still strong, but losing some of his harder edges. Jowls were beginning to gather under his jaw, and more of the meat on his frame came from food than from fight. Gray smudges had settled under his eyes, making them look haggard in the wrong light. His hair was thinning. But even aging, Niccodemus Alludrus was harder than most men. He’d proved as much three months ago, when he broke an assassin’s back even as the garrote had tightened around his neck. No one questioned whether Nicco still had what it took.

The other man in the room stood leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, silver rings glittering on his hands and in his ears. Long and thin, he had a sharpness about him-in his face, his clothes, his mind. His name was Rambles, and he was one of Nicco’s senior street bosses. But whereas Nicco favored the lead pipe when it came to solving problems, Rambles took after the stiletto. By all accounts, Rambles and I should have gotten along famously-similar approaches, kindred spirits, and all that crap. Instead, we managed to make oil and water look tight.

Neither man seemed in a particularly good mood. I made it unanimous.

Nicco spoke without turning toward me. “Drothe, good of you to come. Sit down.”

I sat. Behind me, I could hear the Arms taking up positions on either side of the door. Between them and Rambles, this wasn’t a good sign. Nicco and I usually met alone; he didn’t believe in anyone getting information before he did.

“I’m not used to waiting two days for people,” said Nicco.

I sat up straighter. Two days? Shit. Mendross hadn’t mentioned the call had come yesterday. I rubbed my eyes, trying to wake up. I slid a seed into my mouth.

“I was in the middle of another dodge when I got word,” I said. “I didn’t realize you’d been waiting.”

“Way I hear it, you were already done with the smuggler when you got word.”

I blinked. How the hell did Nicco know about Athel? I’d gone to a lot of trouble to keep that job hush.

Oh. Of course.

“Shatters,” I said.

“That Agonyman had a few things to say about you,” said Nicco, still looking out the window. “None of them good.”

“That sadistic bastard is just mad because I…”

Nicco held up his meaty hand. “I don’t give a crap about your side work, Drothe. As long as I get my cut, I’m happy. What I do give a crap about is my people not doing their job.”

It wasn’t hard to figure out that “people” meant me. “Look,” I said, “I’m late and I apologize. Sincerely. I didn’t know you’d been waiting-”

Nicco spun toward me. “Screw the waiting!” he bellowed. “I shouldn’t have needed to call you in, Drothe. If you’d been doing your job, instead of dicking around after relics, I’d have heard about Ten Ways two days ago. As it is, I’ve been having to get word from the street. I shouldn’t have to listen to the fucking street, Drothe-that’s what I pay you to do.”

“Ten Ways?” I said. I sucked on the seed in my mouth and ran through everything Mendross had told me about the cordon earlier, then through everything I’d heard about it in the last two months. Nothing important surfaced. “Why the hell are you worried about what’s happening in Ten Ways?”

“The street,” said Rambles.

I looked over at him. “Was I talking to you?”

Rambles smiled coolly. “The street says someone’s planning on making a move against Nicco down in Ten Ways.”

“ ‘The street’?” I said. “What the hell do you know about listening to the street?”

“I have ears,” said Rambles.

“Yeah, I can see them from here. Nice jingle.”

“Word is it’s serious.”

“Serious,” I said. “All right. Then answer me a couple of questions, O Sage of the Streets. Did you run this by anyone else? Maybe another Nose, or someone in the cordon? Did you drag your ass down there and check it yourself? Did you stop to consider this might just be a rumor? Or did you come running the moment you heard it?”

Rambles pushed himself away from the wall. “I don’t need a Nose to tell me how to work the street!” he snarled.

“Of course you don’t,” I said. I turned back to Nicco. “He’s full of crap.”

“Why?” said Rambles. “Because you don’t agree with me?”

I made a show of crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair. The light from the window was playing hell with my exhausted eyes, and I could feel a nasty headache coming on, but I smiled benignly nonetheless.

“Answer him,” said Nicco.

“Why?” I said. “If Rambles wants to believe everything he hears on the street, that’s his business. I don’t give free lessons to the help.”

Nicco took a step. The floor creaked beneath him. “I said, answer him.”

I bit down hard on the ahrami in my mouth. The crack of the seed was audible in the room.

“Listen,” I said, starting to get annoyed. I’d been dragged in here for this? “This is bullshit. One person gets leaned on, and suddenly it’s a move against you? Think about it. This is how Ten Ways works. Anyone who says otherwise is a fool. If Rambles wants to-”

For a big man, Nicco could move fast. I didn’t have time to flinch before he’d taken a step and backhanded me across the face.

The blow sent me halfway out of my chair and filled my head with a ringing sound. For a moment, my cheek was numb-then the pain made its way inside. I felt hands grab my shoulders and haul me back into the chair. At first I thought it was Nicco, but when I saw him standing in front of me, I realized the two Arms at the door hadn’t stayed in the room for show. They were behind me, leaning down on my shoulders, holding me in place.

I worked my jaw, tasted blood. I could feel the liquid starting to slip out of my mouth and into my beard. My cheek felt half the size of my face. If that weren’t enough, the headache that had been threatening moments ago was now in full, agonizing bloom.

Out of habit, my hand reached for the herb wallet at my belt. There would be painkillers there-waxed packets full of powders and leaves and unguents, maybe a little Saint’s Balm for my cheek…