Gyre struggled for breath, lying just inside her front door. From the feel of it, Lynnia was now standing on his back, and something sharp pricked against the side of his neck.
“Wander in here with a new pretty girl on your arm, asking for help.” She spat on the floor beside his head. “Get tired of the last one already? Or did you get her killed too?” Her weight shifted, bringing fresh pain. Her voice was right in his ear. “Now, pick yourself up and get off my doorstep before I call the Auxies—”
“Please get off him.” Elariel’s voice.
“Back off, girlie. Just ’cause you’ve got a nice ass doesn’t mean I won’t stick you—”
There was a sudden silence, and then a clatter as Lynnia hit the ground. Free of her weight, Gyre rolled over and gasped for breath, still unable to see anything except flickering blue and green.
“Lynnia?” He coughed. “Elariel, what happened?”
“She was hurting you,” Elariel said, a little panicky. “I didn’t know—”
“Is she all right?”
“She’s just sleeping.”
Gyre relaxed slightly. He pressed his palm against his real eye and flipped up the eye patch so he could see out of the silver one. Lynnia lay on the floor beside him, a paring knife in her hand, breath whistling through her nose. Elariel hovered in the doorway, hugging herself.
“Shut the door,” Gyre groaned, gathering his aching legs under him. “The last thing we need is the Auxies wandering by—”
“Lynnia?” Another woman’s voice, and a tread on the stairs. “What in the name of the Chosen is going— Lynnia!” Gyre turned in time to see someone in the kitchen doorway. “What have you done to her?”
“Hi, Sarah.” Gyre held up his hands. “This is, um, not how I envisioned this going.”
Sometime later, the four of them sat in Lynnia’s parlor, with Gyre and Elariel on the couch and Lynnia and Sarah in the facing armchairs. Lynnia was sunk deep into the cushions, aggressively drinking tea and clutching a modest bump on her head. She was still glaring daggers at Gyre, but at least she’d put the actual knife away.
Sarah, on the other hand, seemed pleased to see him. She was a big, cheerful girl with a mass of red curls a few shades lighter than Elariel’s. She was looking much better than the last time he’d seen her, the burns and bruises mostly healed. Shiny coin-sized scars dotted her face and neck, and her left arm was gone just below the shoulder, courtesy of a blaster bolt she’d barely survived during the Order ambush.
“It’s good to see you,” Sarah said. “We were worried.”
Lynnia snorted.
“I was worried,” Sarah amended. “After I made you… those things.” Her eyes went to Elariel.
“It’s good to see you too,” Gyre said. “This is Elariel, and you can trust her.”
Elariel gave a respectful nod, and Lynnia snorted again.
“I take it the bombs worked?” Sarah said.
“To perfection,” Gyre said. “Thank you.”
“I read about the attack on the Spike,” Sarah said. “They tried to keep it quiet, but rumors got around. Was that you?”
Gyre spread his hands, mock-humbly.
“Is this going to be like last time?” Lynnia snapped. “Where you breeze in with a bag of thalers and demand the impossible overnight?”
“In fairness, you did manage last time,” Gyre said. “But it’s a little bit more than that. I’d like to buy your stock.”
“My stock?” Lynnia narrowed her eyes. “My stock of what?”
“Everything,” Gyre said. “Explosives, quickheal, bone-break potion, whatever you’ve got. I have a wagon leaving the city tomorrow morning, and I need to fill it. Money is no object.”
“Money is no object,” Lynnia repeated in disbelief. “People like to say that, but it’s never true.”
“It’s true this time. Charge me double, I don’t care.”
Lynnia’s lip curled, but he could see warring emotions in her face. She hadn’t gotten to be the best alchemist in Deepfire by passing up a good deal.
“I don’t have enough to fill a wagon,” she said. “Not even close. And I can’t just magic up more on a moment’s notice.”
“Buy out your competitors,” Gyre said promptly. “Tell them you’ll outbid their clients.”
“You can’t be serious,” Lynnia said. “You want to buy up every alchemical in the city?”
“As many as I can get my hands on.” Gyre opened his bag and started counting stacks of thalers onto the coffee table. He stopped when Lynnia leaned forward in her seat. There was already enough money on the table to buy the house they were sitting in and a few on either side.
“You…” Lynnia’s lips twitched. “Fuck it. Fine. I’m not made of fucking stone. But don’t think this means I’ve forgotten what you did.”
“I know.” Gyre shook his head. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I’m doing my best—”
“I don’t give a shit. Yora’s still dead.” Lynnia got up abruptly. “I’m going to write a few notes. Sarah, are you going to be all right with him?”
“I’ll be fine,” Sarah said.
Lynnia muttered and shuffled out. They heard her descending into the workshop, and Gyre let out a breath.
“Sorry,” Sarah said. “She’s… well. You know her.”
“I do. And she’s not wrong, about what I did.”
“Yes, she is,” Sarah said. “For her Yora will always be a little girl. But she knew the risks. We all did. We went ahead anyway because we thought we were doing the right thing.”
“Yeah.” Gyre hesitated for a moment. “Do you still believe that? That we were doing the right thing?”
“Of course I do. What Raskos and his goons were doing to Deepfire—”
“Not just Raskos. The whole system. The Republic and the Order. We used to talk about… something better.”
Sarah sat up straighter, taken aback. “I suppose I still believe in that, too. I just haven’t had much occasion to think about it lately.”
“I may have… something. A chance. I don’t know how much of one. But if it works, then… who knows.”
“Does it involve your mysterious new friends with the unlimited bank account?” Her eyes flicked to Elariel.
“It does. And some of our old friends from the south.” This was a code phrase for the Khirkhaz Commune.
“Ah.” Sarah raised her eyebrows. “That’s where you’re taking this wagonload of alchemicals? South?”
Gyre nodded.
“And, what? I’m assuming this isn’t just a social call. You want me to make you more arcana bombs?”
“Actually,” Gyre said, “I was wondering if you wanted to join us.”
There was a long silence. Elariel shot him a surprised look, while Sarah herself chewed her lip thoughtfully.
“If you want a peaceful life from here on out,” Gyre said, “then by all means, stay away from me. No one can ever say you haven’t done your part. But I thought I’d ask, just in case you were—”