I’d been in town all of a week and stumbled into Corso himself. Or he’d found me. It didn’t matter much either way. Either Hounds were truly cursed to stumble into messes or my luck were simply shit.

Simon took another step back and Corso’s head whipped around. He smirked at Simon. One lip lifted slightly and tracked over teeth in anticipation. I’d seen felines grin the same way. It weren’t even the potential joy of chasing prey. They were excited that they’d scared someone.

This leader of thugs liked people being afraid of him.

He turned to me with that same grin. I stared back. His eyes were unfocused and fighting to lock onto my face. Like he couldn’t figure out where I stood or maybe madness dwelt in his brain and threatened to burst out then infect the world.

I’d faced down that fear inspiring mountain lion. I’d been chased by a beast of a bear. Corso’s gaze were the same but he were nowhere near as intimidating because he were merely a man.If he were really that dangerous he’d be out there hunting down the real monsters instead of playing king here. I knew Corso were two things, mad, and a coward.

He pointed at me. “Who’s this?”

“Sir. Just another new face on in town who needs to pay his dues for using the property.”

Corso tilted his head like the brain man to the side, who were still locked in a half bow. I wondered if all the man’s mental gears were slipping.

“Refusing to pay? In my territory?” He stormed around the alley but no one moved. Not Simon, Not Douglas, and not me.

We were literally a captive audience. I glanced down the alley and debated leaving the other two behind entirely. Simon and Douglas had been nothing but helpful and I weren’t the type to simply abandon someone, especially budding friends.

I blinked slowly and watched our captures. One were still on fire but managed to contain his whimpers. Even his efforts to put the fire out were restrained. I wanted to shuffle further away and get myself some room, but there were no easy escapes.

“You nervous?” he asked.

Corso were a man full of questions.

I tilted my head to the side but slwoly righted myself. Mocking Corso’s henchmen might go poorly and I’d rather get out of this without more violence, given a choice.

“According to Mister Simon, Mister Chase doesn’t speak.”

“You don’t speak?” Corso asked me while waving his weapon like momma used to shake spoons at me when I didn’t eat.

My head nodded slowly.

“I hate deaf people.”

Mute were the word. I frowned slightly. Corso shook his head violently and knocked over the remaining crates near him. I restrained my jumping and held still. Thankfully the wooden boxes had been empty but that much material surely weren’t light. He’d pulled it over like it were nothing.

Strength? Side effects of confusion? Maybe he can’t keep track of thoughts.

I let my eyesight flicker again and studied him. He had a bared arms and a lot of markings, but none of those were real ink. The one’s I saw were nothing like any I’d noted before. Circles were all over his body. Inside those circles were bits of blue that didn’t seem right. They shimmered with a sleekness that no ink should have on a marking.

Cassandra had some more explaining to do about a Hounds being prone to walking into trouble, and I needed another crack at her books. I needed to survive this crazy guy.

“Mute, sir.”

“A mute? Mute. Mute.” He snapped his fingers repeatedly and jabbed the knife into a wall. It’d been somewhere else a moment ago but seemed able to return to his hand at a whim. “Oh. His voice is fucked, that’s what it means, right? Right?”

The brain tattoo bearing man nodded. “Yes.”

“Ain’t had a mute since Xavier. Remember that guy? Told the funniest jokes.”

“He couldn’t speak, sir.”

Corso’s hands flailed. He threw a blade again and it thudded into wood near my face. I managed not to flinch despite not seeing where he’d brought the weapon from or how it’d moved so damn quick. It were like it simply appeared.

“The fuck you think I’m saying? Funny damn jokes. Always making me laugh. I miss Xavier.”

Were it being summoned to a new place? That might be possible. It might also be hidden from sight somehow, like my markings let me hide tattoos. Surely that’d have a hellish cost attached, to pull a weapon from nowhere then make it unseen.

“Sir?” The minion’s head tilted all the way from one side to the other, nearly touching his shoulder. “He’s right where you left him.”

“I left him in a ditch because he mouthed off to me.”

Jesus.

Corso were utterly off his rocker.

The man who’d been on fire stopped moving. I gave him a glance and debated dashing across the distance to kick him harder, but he lay there unmoving. The ink on his markings twisted then went still. My lips tightened on one side.

I might have killed one of Corso’s men. That brought me back around to wondering if I should simply take down Corso too, if I could. There were still too many brutes and while some were battered or dead, even becoming that twisted Hound body might not be enough. Then there’d be finding a place to lick my wounds if I survived.

I shouldn’t be a fool.

Failing to kill him would put everyone in danger. I might fail miserably. Then momma, Jenn, and everyone else would be damned forever. Cursed to be slaves to that shit-hole of a mountain until they too died. Then we’d all join the war on the other side.

Not fighting were wiser. Especially since I didn’t understand his markings or how he’d made a blade appear in Douglas’s foot. Our coworker sat frozen on the ground, afraid to even whimper. Blood pooled under his foot around where the weapon had been.

If taking down the thug leader now were impossible, then maybe finding him later might be easier. I took note of his scent as much as possible, along with the other man. Bell Town were huge and full of a constant flow of people, but a man like Corso must have a home where he’d bedded down. If I could sniff out a Rock Snake in the woods, then finding him on my terms would be simple.

It’s gone. I blinked repeatedly and didn’t understand. To the side of my head, where there’d been a weapon moments ago, were nothing. Corso had yet another knife in his hands as he bobbed around the alley ranting.

“So what am I doing here?” the madman asked. “What, what, what? Disrespecting my men. But do I get upset? No. No, we don’t get upset when someone disrespects the order of things. We don’t get upset when they kill one of our men. Do we?”

Corso walked over to me, still waving the blade and flipping it in a lazy arc.

I fumbled to get something solid in my grip. Without a reliable green I couldn’t risk directly confronting him or heal mid-fight. Sneak attacks would work better. As Obsidian said, no man could defend against a knife in their throat while sleeping. Or maybe that’d been daddy.

“You know what I’m going to do?” he asked.

If it involved attacking me, I knew what I’d do. Mission be damned, I’d do my best to shove that short dagger into his eye socket.

I may not be immortal. Hell, Rangers ain’t immortal. Neither are you.

The weapon he were flipping went up but didn’t come down. I searched wildly for it but couldn’t see much past Corso’s face.

He smiled, a little bit softer, but with insanity still in his eyes. “I like you. You’re a funny man.”

Just like Xavier, I thought dryly. Whoever the hell Xavier were. Everyone asked about him. Everyone, and it made me sick. Or it might have been channeling red and the rage that came with it. My head felt fuzzy and arm heavy.

If the Wildling Touch were an ocean of hot emotions, then the Heart Seeker on the other side were simple clarity. I lifted my other arm slowly and hoped no one would notice the marking under my gloves. I could feel a dull sensation for each body around me. Every one of them were inked almost as much as larger beasts. Corso’s were strong but still wrong. I couldn’t explain what sort of wrong they were. It reminded me of sour milk. Or cheese with a bit of mold on one side.

My nose wrinkled.

His neck tightened and he shrugged while looking around. “You got a joke funny man?”

I slowly shook my head.

“Nothing? Amusing story? You tell me all about Simian here. Or I can tell you all about him.”

An eyebrow dipped as the other shot up. My head tilted slightly.

What in the hell am I to make of that?

“No? Tell me Ballsy, why we keeping him around?”

“I believe his best use is as an object lesson.”

“Oh?” Corso spun in circles between Simon, me, and Ballsy couldn’t be his real name. With his twisted posture, weird markings, and servant like attitude, Ballsy had to be utterly wrong.

“It seems best to use Mister Simon as an example. For Mister Chase.”

This time both my eyebrows lifted. Simon’s head shook back and forth and he pulled away.

“Well. Everyone is useful. That’s what I always say. Isn’t that what I always say?”

The circle of men nodded.

Only one brute from Simon’s original encirclement still stood. He smiled then reached up to pull at hat off his head. Only he weren’t wearing a hat. “Mister Corso. Sir. I’d like to kick his teeth in, sir. On account of my friends.”

“Your friends are idiots. Look at him. Look. He’s a matchstick. Your friend?” Corso cupped his hands and spun around while shouting, “Timber! Like a log. Look at him. He’s practically part of the crates.”

Corso waved.

The large wall of muscle ran an arm under his bleeding nose then sniffed.

“But can I kick his teeth in, sir?”

“You want to have fun, you do your job. Collect what’s owed. Move on. Did you collect anything today?” Corso tilted his head then turned slowly to eye his brutish enforcer. His lips curved with a smile that were almost friendly. He waved a hand and bobbed over.

“You’re new in town right? He’s new?” Corso pointed at the man with the brain and book marking. “Tell me.”

You asked that.

Ballsy’s memory enhancement marking flashed. “He’s new, sir.”

“Never seen him, sir,” the brute echoed.

“Arrived with the shipment from Wellbrook along with two other new faces.”

I didn’t take time to write the thought down and pretended everything were going to be just fine. Simon kept his eyes peeled and every other breath he’d try to back away.

“See? I knew it. I can smell them a mile away. Everywhere I go. People who don’t know their place. Who don’t know the rules.”

Simon’s eyes searched for an escape. There didn’t seem to be one for either of us. Not without me doing something stupid and ruining the whole mission.

“That’s what I do. I teach people the rules. My men, they follow them. I’m not even mad you killed one. That happens. People fight back. They hurt my men. People get killed. Then I have to hurt someone back to make sure everyone follows the rules. Children. Mothers. Fathers.”

I didn’t like the threat, especially since I’d be heading home tomorrow. Bashing in Corso’s face with a flaming stick became more attractive by the second. There weren’t a lot of witnesses besides his minions. Simon would probably leave the area. Douglas would be the only one to worry about and I couldn’t say for sure who he’d tell.

Corso laughed, backed away, and spun around. “See? Funny jokes.”

Cold rushed up my other arm and swirled around my heart. I wondered any number of things at that point. Had he read my mind and backed away to avoid getting hit? Had he seen something in my eyes? One of his marking might let him know what I were thinking, or it might let him read facial ticks.

“Come. Come. Everyone.” Corso started snapping and pointed at Simon. “Bring him. Bring what’s. What’s his name again?”

The book and brain man turned slightly. “Mister Simon. He hasn’t paid his dues.”

There were one problem. In the time I’d lost my focus and wondered what exactly Corso’s markings did, there were now six additional men with us. These weren’t odds even a seasoned Ranger would dare. I’d been nervous about what I might find at home in momma’s letter. Now I’d settle for making it back to Chandler’s Field with all my limbs.

Though these odds wouldn’t stop me from fighting if needed. I kept thinking myself in circles but each time I had to resolve to keep calm.

They grabbed Simon. I don’t know why the man hadn’t run, but neither had I. We should have struck hard and fled to somewhere we could lay traps. That’s how miners handled monsters. Rangers were much the same. Kill those weak, flee those too strong and figure out their weaknesses.

Them being human had thrown me off. I’d do better next time. I wouldn’t strike when other people were around. I’d find them one by one and remove them like monsters from the mines.

I watched as they drug over my coworker. My face flushed cold, wondering how they intended to use him as an example for me.

Corso pointed. “Hey new blood. Look me in the eye. Look at me.”

I did, but kept the poor-man’s weapon ready in my hand. My arm itched and emotions threatened to overwhelm me. A half formed image of the sunlight backing a field came to mind, like Obsidian had trained me.

Corso didn’t care. He hadn’t looked at my weapon even once. The man simply smiled at everything and shook his blade at me.

“We’ll give you a lesson. The best lesson ever for people coming to work my docks.” He rocked slightly then stood straight with both hands wide, like he were preaching to an audience of believers. “You have to follow at least one rule around here. Just one. One. The rest, you and me, we’ll sort that out. But until then you follow just one rule.”

The men stretched Simon’s arm over the wall, Two held his fist. The other locked his shoulder. A fourth punched Simon, halting his attempts at escape.

Corso nodded and lifted his blade. Hi shead turned slightly and he smiled at me, that same insane grin he’d been sporting since first showing up in the alley. Like he knew how this would all work our and had been looking forward to this part of the night.

My stomach sunk. I’d never seen men do this to each other and I had a terrible feeling what came next.

Corso hefted the blade. I stepped forward then halted as I noticed something else. Ballsy stared at me with his head tilted to one side. His marking simmered like a pot of water on boil. I stared at the marking briefly, then his nearly sideways face, and worried that he might be memorizing everything I were doing.

“Don’t,” Douglas groaned while putting up a hand. “He can’t.”

Corso laughed.

“Think I care? It’s not about the unpaid dues, it’s about sending a reminder.” He chopped at Simon’s hand. Simon bucked wildly and were punched in the stomach again. His face locked in a twisted expression of pain. The remaining thugs let him go and down Simon went.

My head buzzed with a low hum and eyes were locked on the spurting stump. The world went fuzzy and red flooded everything. Buzzing filled both ears. Visions of monsters attacking in the minds flushed my face.

Ballsy smiled as another marking I hadn’t noticed crawled along his skin. My mouth pulled to one side and eyes watered. I stared at him and snarled. He smiled slowly and his mouth stretched the snapped back like rubber bands.

Whatever swam under Ballsy’s skin were like a snake treading lake water. It coiled and the image of that marking doubled, tripled, and I felt something in my stomach twist sideways. Inks shouldn’t move like that. One placed them on a human then they sat. Everything. I’d seen operated that way.

Corso’s voice danced along my mind. “Pay your dues.”

He bent over and looked me right in the eyes. I feld still trying not to let whatever Ballsy’s marking were doing to me completely destroy my senses.

The leader of Bell Town’s underground tilted his head back and forth slowly. I tensed and fought back the urge to throw up in his face. He stood back up and waved his name. “I’ll be watching you, Mister Chase. But you ain’t gonna wanna see me again. You understand?”

The feeling were mutual, but instead of uttering a threat, I managed to nod slowly and barely kept eye contact. I’d figure out what marking that man had that made me damn sick and I’d counter it like Obsidian taught me.

All of his men walked away. My eyesight were a mess but I managed to turn enough and watch as they ventured past Douglas and out of the alley we’d been in.

A second later, once their footsteps had faded, Douglas whimpered.

“My damn foot. Dammit my foot. He,” Douglas whimpered. “Think he got bone. Bleed like a sob of a bitch.”

He shook his head.

I managed to see a bit better then, since I were still fairly whole, stood up and helped Douglas get to his feet. He hopped to the side against a wall. Each step his eyes tightened.

While Douglas found a place to prop himself up, I ripped off my shirt and set about binding Simon’s arm like I’d seen Delilah do back at the mines. The blood were everywhere, and I tried to tightened straps around the end.

First aid were my only real option right now. My Wildling Mark might be able to get a green, but I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t have time to fumble with a mental image.

Douglas coughed intensely then wiped away his face. “Get him to a healer.”

I nodded but couldn’t ask the dire question of where. The limb were still bleeding but I cinched cloth around the end like a pocket. I’d heard that if his arm stayed this way too long he’d lose even more than the hand.

“We get to the healer. They’ll put his hand back on.”

Simon’s eyes budging, bloodshot, and shaking. It were a gaze that promised murder.

“It’s tingling. Dammit. I’d heard his knives were poisoned but hoped never to see it. Dammit Chase!”

Simon fell to his side and clutched the freshly wrapped stump.

“Could have gotten away,” he mumbled.

I couldn’t see how Simon might manage that. He didn’t have any markings of his own.

“Come on. I’ll try to help.”

Douglas couldn’t do shit either. I ended up with Simon over one shoulder and Douglas limping along next to me for support. He gave directions to a place down the pier.

“Poison.” Simon babbled the same sort of words over and over. Sometimes I couldn’t understand him. “Poison’s nothing. He knows nothing. Just need some rest and I’ll be good to go. You’ll see.”

Simon shivered then groaned. Whatever he were saying had to be half fever dreams. I’d never lost a limb like that but figured it’d be about the worst thing that could happen to a body.

Douglas hopped on one foot toward the upcoming door. “This is Jesse’s office. Her crew has a healer on the payroll. It’ll help with his dues too. You need to pay yours. Corso saw you. His henchmen know you. They’ll remember you stood up to him and try to break you.”

I ignored Douglas and hefted over my shoulder. Liquid from his stump arm dripped all over. I’d done a shit job of binding it and would need to learn how to handle the next one if this were to be a regular occurrence with Corso.

“I’ll kill him,” Simon said. His eyes were different than Corso’s. Where the gang leader had been shaky, Simon’s were calm. Still waters that held no doubt as to his next goal. In that moment, I wondered if I’d really grown to know the man at all.

Douglas pushed the door open weakly. I bulled it the rest of the way with my elbow and swung Simon thorugh the narrow passage. Upon stepping inside, everything became a blur of action.

Someone shouted at us. People grabbed Simon from my shoulders and set him across a barely cushioned couch. Another person cried about the mess all over the floor. Before I fully registered, someone had shouted for their healer while a woman with short cropped hair demanded to know what were happening. Douglas managed to explain that Corso had used Simon as an example.

I stood there trying to take it all in. I’d been in this sort of mess back at the mine, when we nearly lost a Jeff to some monster below, but this had happened because of another man. A twisted psychopath of a man who’d been out to set an example.

Because of me.

If I’d fought then maybe he’d have killed us all. If I’d stayed quiet in the shadows or seen the man watching the alley then maybe they would have simply roughed Simon up. Then Douglas, why had he walked in after us out of nowhere?

There’d been so many minor screw ups. The biggest one, I had no great way to defend myself without resorting to becoming a Hound. Which were a shape I hadn’t used to fight humans. That and I had no way to recover afterward so being in a fight that got me injured would leave me in danger too.

Time passed. People asked me things but my mind were numb. Simon and I weren’t the closest in the world but who else were I friends with? It bothered me to see him get damaged. Folks held Simon still, peeled back my badly applied wraps, and ran water over it. He screamed. I paced back and forth but Douglas kept telling me something that sounded reassuring.

It weren’t.

My eyes tightened. I figured out what bugged me about this whole mess. I hadn’t tried to be close to many people since daddy passed, and he’d gotten sick too. Sweat on his brow. Trying to hold back curses but angry.

Through it all Simon watched me pace back and forth, staring past the people healing him, until I had to get out of the small house into the cool morning air. Sunlight crept over the horizon and I wondered when the last time I’d slept were.

Spices hung in the air. A faint hint of baked goods being cooked. Gulls called out to each other in their loud cranky voices. Water lapped against the posts that held up piers nearby. A million little bits of nise and smells overwhelmed the rest of the world and nearly turned me blind.

“You okay? Douglas asked.

I jerked. He’d come out after me and I’d been too lost to notice. He stared. Heavy lids and black bags lined Douglas’s eyes.

Eventually I pointed back inside instead.

“He’ll be okay. Corso likes to take hands as an example. Healers for the crews are pretty good at putting them back on.”

I nodded slowly but felt no better. Knowing that Corso had done this before made matters even worse. Killing him would have saved everyone a lot of pain. Taking his own arm might have been a bitter justice. But then there’d been his follower, Ballsy, with his sickness inducing mark.

“It’s why you should join a crew, like I said. Make sure you pay dues to someone. Anyone. It don’t even have to be the right person or a lot. If they come to collect and somehow you paid the wrong people, tell the collectors. They’ll tell Corso, he’ll sort it out.”

I swallowed slowly and wondered how such a madman had been allowed to live within two days of The Mountain. All those military people should have come through and cleared him out.

“You leaving today?”

My head bobbed.

“For home, right? Back in Chandlers you said. Wrote. On that-” he pointed at my chest where the notepad were normally stored.

I still didn’t have a damn shirt.

He saw me fumbling then handed me the last part of my shirt that hadn’t been turned into crappy bandages. In it were my notepad. My fingers shook as words were written slowly

Yes. Going home.

Douglas nodded. I wrote out a second note and held it up for him.

Simon able to work?

“Like I said, he’ll be okay by Monday. Then he’ll have to watch that arm. Might take another jolt of healing, or he can pick up his own mark. Some folks try that. Paying dues is cheaper honestly, and less likely to have Corso some flay a body alive just tot prove that even inkings won’t get a body out of paying their dues.”

Jesus, I thought. Corso were serious about this whole payment deal. Especially if he tore out markings to prove a point. I put pencil back to paper.

Simon staying, or leaving?

Douglas shook his head a bit then shrugged. “He paid his dues. He’ll be able work all month without problems. After that? Simon seems like the type to wander.”

I nodded and went over all the stuff we’d been talking about this week. Dues were apparently a form of protection fees. We could pay crews like Jesse’s and get patched together. Same as I used to deal with up at Wellbrook.

Douglas promised to keep an eye on Simon and I went to get my stuff for a ride home. There’d only be a few hours left. Along the entire walk I put together the markings I’d seen and attempted to figure out ways around them. I’d be damned if I let myself get caught by Ballsy’s markings again.

Cassandra’s charms were annoying but not malicious, then whatever Ballsy did were over the line. Lowering my guard and being more trusting hadn’t hurt me in the same way. He’d done it to keep me from fighting back while Corso finished his insane speech.

What marks could I get to stop it? I’d still only had three, but Cassandra promised a worthwhile tattoo that would help me. Wan promised to train me with it. I still hadn’t delivered his stupid letter but luckily decided to leave it back at the Golden Gun yesterday afternoon.

I wrote a note for the front desk but the man there didn’t care one ounce. I’d paid through this morning and what happened next week wouldn’t matter until I returned. He seemed to expect drifters like me to flee town as soon as a boat came in. He didn’t even care about my topless state.

Down the hall were Jewels, standing at her door fidgeting with the cloak she wore on the way to work. She shifted it over both shoulders drawing the front closed so regular people on the street couldn’t see the goods.

I were still wearing no shirt. Jewels waved those feathery fingers over my skin which cause da wave of goosebumps to form. My brain shut off like a light bulb for a good second.

“Hey there sexy,” Jewels said. “Thought about my offer?”

I didn’t have the patience to deal with her on top of everything else. My head shook slowly back and forth.

“Shame. Now that I see what we’re working with, I’d be inclined to pay you for a night.” She leaned over, letting the cloak about her shoulder slip slightly.

Going home for the weekend.

Jewels smile faltered a bit then returned with full force. “Where’s that?”

Chandlers.

“Oh.” She stood still, all trace of flirting gone. “You’re that Chase.”

Jewels stood up stiffly then strode quickly past me toward the Golden Gun’s exit.

I wondered what to do next but couldn’t figure out what options there were. So, home I went.