The Right to Die | ✓ Amby Winner 2023

4. A Bit of Poison

Stay here and don't get into trouble. As M'yu wound through grimy back alleys, he pretended that Aevryn had meant 'in the Gloam' and not 'inside this locked bedroom in the safehouse.' After all, if he hadn't, surely the lock wouldn't have been that easy to pick. Kids half his age could have finagled that door.

M'yu shivered and rubbed his arms. The coat Aevryn gave him had been too new and too nice to blend in here. The shine of the shoes was bad enough; they nearly shimmered among all the garbage and brown ice. Shoes he needed, but the coat he'd left in the room, along with the new linkcard Aevryn could use to track him.

I have business to finish up here, Aevryn had said. I'll be back later. M'yu wished the man had been a little more specific on how long 'later' was. In any case, he figured it meant he needed to hurry.

The alley teed off. M'yu glanced one way and then the—

A hand snatched his collar and pulled him up into the glare of one of his crew. The boy's breath plumed hot against M'yu's face. "What're you doing showing your mug around here?"

M'yu raised his hands. "Dahnko, I can explain—"

Dahnko shoved him against the wall. "Think we've had enough of your pretty word games."

"It's not what it looks—"

"What, you don't got it in good with the Caps now? You not wearing squeaky clean shoes?" He leaned in closer, teeth grit. "You think I didn't see that? We're not stupid."

"Course you're not stupid," M'yu said, struggling to keep his breaths even. "You're smart enough to see I would never—"

A fist slammed into M'yu's face. "I am sick and tired of you telling us what we think! Lania rots in jail and you live it up! Bet the only reason Karsya didn't get caught was 'cause she doesn't hang on every word that drips from your capping mouth!"

Dahnko swung, but this time M'yu ducked. The boy's hand rammed into the icy stone, and he called out. M'yu shoved him off. "Lania's in jail?"

Dahnko snarled. "Like you didn't know." He lunged, but M'yu sidestepped, kicking his leg out from under him. As the boy fell to the ice, M'yu took off. He half-ran, half-slid through the alleys, racing for their hideout.

He skidded onto their lane. Jumping up, he snagged one of the falling boards that served as their makeshift ladder. The wind raked across his skin as he climbed into the abandoned loft.

Raggedy blankets slid past his shoulders. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he froze. "No. No, no, no."

It was empty. All the stockpiles, all the pallets, all the people—gone. Ashes smoldered in their makeshift hearth; an abandoned game of capture-stone rested like rubble in the corner. "Karsya!" he called.

His only response was the rats skittering in the wall.

He raked his hair back. They could be anywhere now. Given enough time, he might could track them down—or at least he could have before everyone in the Gloam thought he was hanging on the Caps' coattails.

He sank to the ground. This was the best hideout he'd found in two years, and they'd left so fast they hadn't even pulled down the blankets that blocked out the cold. The afternoon sunlight slanted in through broken slats, and M'yu looked around again as if they might just reappear.

But nothing moved other than the dying light. They were gone—maybe for good, if he really was going to the Capital. He sucked on the sore in his mouth, then rose, striding over to the fire. They could take care of themselves in the meantime. They'd just have to lay low. He'd taught them well enough how to haunt the rich districts, how to nick the linkcards, and more importantly, how to get rid of them before the Magnate brutes tracked them down. His finger dipped into the ash, and he stepped back to write.