Fate's Edge

When you betray your partners, especially if these partners are family, you should do it only after much suffering. Flesh is weak. When the pain is too much, most people do break. The greater the betrayal, the more terrible the pain the captive will endure.”
    Helena slid the point of her knife into the first cut she’d made, hooked the skin, and jerked it down in a sharp move. Alex shrieked a desperate, pain-filled howl. Red muscle glistened bare on his chest. She was always an excellent skinner.
    “Don’t worry. I will make sure that the pain you experience is equivalent to your betrayal.” Helena raised her left hand, still in the soft brown glove. “Salt.”
    The vial of salt was deposited into her fingers.
    “Now then. Let’s talk about your sister.”
     
    JACK looked out the window. Outside, gray rain sifted onto a Broken town called Olympia. It was in the State of Washington, which was like a province but larger. Kaldar had stolen another car—this one was blue and smelled of some bitter fake-pine scent—and Jack got the front seat this time. The view from the window was wet and dreary.
    “Does the sun ever shine here?”
    “Sometimes,” Kaldar said. “If you wait for a few hours and squint just right.”
    In the backseat, George shifted around. They both wore plain brown shirts and loose pants. They still didn’t look like they belonged in the Broken, but at least it was an improvement over George’s poofy shirts, Jack decided.
    His side ached. He discreetly rubbed his bruised ribs. Gaston had been less than happy to find out that the two of them had taken off into the Broken and gotten themselves caught by Kaldar. Words like “morons,” “spoiled babies,” and “made me look like a total imbecile” had been said. And then words turned into punches. To be fair, he did throw the first one, Jack reflected. But there was only so much baby name-calling one could take. He and George had double-teamed Gaston, but Gaston was strong like a bull. Still, he hadn’t won by much. It was fine now. They had made peace. He’d just have to be careful with the ribs for a couple of days.
    Jack had left the little cat with Gaston. It had taken them a few hours to fly to Washington, and they spent the night in the Edge. Until they’d crossed back over to the Broken, Jack had carried the little cat around in a basket he’d found in the wyvern’s cabin. The cat drank but didn’t eat. That was usually a bad sign.
    Gaston would take good care of it. He’d stayed behind to watch over the wyvern, and he promised he would check on the little cat. Of course he would.
    “Where are we going?” George asked.
    “We’re looking for a thrift store. Anything would do. Goodwill, Salvation Army . . .”
    “Salvation Army?” Jack perked up. “Crusaders?”
    “No, not that Salvation Army,” Kaldar said. “A secondhand clothing store.”
    “What’s that?”
    “You’ve been rich for too long.” The thief sighed. “Does Rose do any charity work?”
    “She gives alms to the poor,” George said.
    “How does that work?”
    “We ride up to the Helping Hand building,” Jack said. “We get out and carry the food crates inside. Rose talks to the people in there. They look at accounts for a while. She gives them money. We go home.”
    “Okay.” Kaldar nodded. “A secondhand store is like Helping Hand: it’s a store that raises money for the poor. In the Broken, they are usually attached to houses of religion.”
    “Churches,” George said.
    “Among others. People bring in clothes and furniture they no longer need and donate them. The stores sell them and use the money to feed the poor.”
    Jack frowned. “Why would you want to wear clothes somebody else had worn?” The scent alone would drive him mad.
    “Because you can’t afford anything else,” George said quietly. “Rose used to shop at the secondhand store.”
    “I never got clothes that somebody else wore,” Jack said. “I would’ve known.”
    “Not for us, you dolt. She shopped for herself. You don’t remember because you were seven.”
    Jack bared his teeth. “I remember just fine.”
    “Another word, and it’s back to Adrianglia for both of you,” Kaldar said. His mouth smiled, but his eyes were dead serious.
    Jack turned around and shut up.
    “A thrift shop is the place where people shop when they don’t have money or when they’re looking for a bargain. Men of doubtful legality, such as ourselves, shop there for three