Fate's Edge
pedestal?”
“Yeah.” Gnome squinted.
“That’s Aurora by Ciniselli.”
“And?” Kaldar asked.
Audrey turned to them with a look of triumph on her face. “I stole her. Eight years ago. Seamus sold her for ten grand. We needed money in a hurry, and I remember him saying the man he sold it to was good for quick cash in a pinch. It was a pain-in-the-ass heist, too. Took two weeks, and I got hit by a car at the end of it.”
Now there was a story. Kaldar made a mental note to ask her about it later.
Gnome shrugged. “Hate to tell you, but he got ripped off. The statue Aurora has been appraised between thirty-five and fifty.”
Audrey stared at the picture and swore.
KALDAR leaned back in his seat and hung one leg over the other. Audrey watched him out of the corner of her eye. The man was a chameleon, who changed personalities the way a teenage girl changed outfits, trying to find the right one before a big party.
Why was she still here? He had gotten what he wanted—they figured out where Seamus must have unloaded his merchandise. She should go, grab Ling, and disappear.
Audrey eyed Kaldar. Back at the house, when he spoke about his family, his eyes had turned merciless. A little of his true self had showed—that was the real man, ruthless and resolute. All the rest were just disguises.
Kaldar caught her glance and smiled. Yes, yes, you are a handsome devil. Emphasis on devil. He was flirting with her, either because he liked what he saw or, more likely, because he had decided it would be an easy way to keep her agreeable. He went from I’ll walk over you to I can’t take my eyes off your butt kind of quick.
A small annoying thought nagged at her. If she hadn’t taken the job, none of this would’ve happened, and the Edge wouldn’t be at risk. Which was stupid because had she not taken the job, her dad would’ve just found somebody else. She wasn’t the only picklock in the Edge. Well, she was probably the best, but not the only one.
What was she thinking? Seamus wouldn’t have had a prayer of breaking into that pyramid without her. The lock on the first door, which led to the passage, was easy enough, but some of the inner locks had taken her a full ten minutes each. Complicated locks weren’t a problem, but if the tumblers were heavy, opening them took a lot of effort. The bolts and bars were the worst. Sliding an inch-wide bar by magic felt like trying to lift a truck. When she finally swung open the final door, her nose was bleeding and she had to lie down. She had made this whole burglary possible.
Okay, fine. Fine, but it didn’t mean she had to run headfirst into the Hand’s jaws to fix it. She might have pulled off the heist, but Seamus had put it together. It was Seamus’s mess. He had dragged her into this predicament. Kaldar should’ve found him, not her.
In all of her twenty-three years, Audrey had never seen anyone die. Sure, there had been an occasional punch or a slap, but violence was never a part of her childhood. Well, not until Alex had sold her for some coke. That was not how her family had operated. They were thieves, yes, swindlers, yes, con artists, but they had always stayed away from murder. No matter what Kaldar said, she knew both the Hand and the Mirror had no compunction about killing left and right, cutting people down like weeds. The danger the Edge was in wasn’t her problem unless she made it her problem. And Audrey didn’t want to be a hero.
“So what do you know about this Morell de Braose?” Kaldar asked.
“That information would be extra.” Gnome shook his bottle. “I’m out of stout, so I’ll take cash.”
Kaldar reached inside his hoodie and pulled out a gold coin. An Adrianglian doubloon. Five hundred dollars. Gnome’s gaze fixed on the coin. Kaldar set the coin on its edge and spun it with a quick flick of his fingers. It whirled in place.
“I know de Braose owns a castle,” Gnome said. “And six thousand acres of the Democracy of California to go with it. He came on the scene about twelve years go. Nobody knows where de Braose is from for sure, but he did away with the baron who owned the estate before him, killed off a few of his neighbors, and remodeled the castle. About a third of his land is in the Edge, and he pops back and forth across the Broken and the Weird at will. He likes the Broken’s antiques, and he hobnobs with the bluebloods from the Weird.”
Well, that was neither here nor there. How was Morell de
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