Maren Goldweaver's Arc

Chapter 6 of 42

Two hours passed at Topper's table. Maren paced the front room. The file lay open where he had left it. He sat with his boots up, turning a pencil, humming under his breath. He had not written a single line in the last hour. Miller stood by the door with his arms crossed. He watched Topper the way he watched a hot bar cooling wrong. "You said one page," Maren said. "You said you could read it." "I can read it." Topper tapped the pencil on his teeth. "Reading it and giving it to you are different jobs, freckles." "You took the sword." "I took a sword." He smiled without showing teeth. "Pretty steel. But this cipher is Registry inner-ring. I used to write these. A blade gets me started. It doesn't get me finished." Miller stepped off the wall. "Finish it." "Or what, blacksmith?" Topper spread his hands. "You break my fingers, the page stays quiet. You need me talking." Maren's jaw locked. He was right, and he knew it. Every hour the informant sat in Miller's forge was an hour closer to the red tag on the file turning real. She was about to offer her earrings, her father's tools, anything, when something moved by the window. The leopard cub landed on the sill. Its wings folded against its spotted back. It looked at Maren like it had followed her from the Records Hall on purpose. It probably had. Topper's boots came off the table. He sat forward slowly. The smug drained from his face and left something hungrier behind. "Well now," he said. "That will do nicely." "No," Maren said. "A winged pup. Registry would empty a vault for that." He was already standing. "Leave it with me until sundown. I'll have your page by then. Sword and cub, freckles. That's the price." The cub padded across the floor to Maren's boot. It pressed its head to her shin and started to purr. The sound filled the room like a low kettle. She had known this animal one day. She did not know where it slept or what it ate. She did not know if it could open a latched door. She knew what Topper was. She knew what he would sell it to before nightfall. "No," she said again. Miller looked at her. He did not argue. Maren picked up the file. She closed it over the red tag. She bent and scooped the cub against her chest. Its wings settled against her arm. "Keep the sword," she said. "We're done." Topper's mouth opened. "Maren—" Suddenly the cub began making a whining sound and staring intently at Topper. His eyes glazed over as he looked at the wall. Miller looked at Maren with alarm, but said nothing. Suddenly with zero tone in his voice, Topper begin writing and finished the cipher. Maren grabbed it hurriedly and they scrambled out the door as Topper slumped, head hitting the table. OK so that was twice now the club had saved her butt. What else can this cub do she wondered.