Raz’s blade was a bolt of lightning, flashing in the dim light as it fell toward Avvin. Someone was screaming, there were gasps and yells, but Raz only felt the flow of the movement and where it ended. No anger, no rage, only the next step of the dance.

In that slow flow, as time crawled, he saw the end, and the steps that went past it. Someone he had called friend left staring forever with sixteen inches of steel splitting his spine. Jail? Regret? A death that followed him forever?

Nissaya’s gift danced them before his eyes, truths that he already knew in his soul.

But Avvin had betrayed him. Set him up to die.

For playing? For joining them in their battles to get away from a world of riches that had more troubles than they knew?

How could the dance not end in death?

When he wouldn’t even admit he’d done it.

It had to.

Yet…

Even so…

As Raz’s knees hit the stone and the knife came down he stopped it, right at Avvin’s throat. A drop of blood welled up, soaking the fur there and making a darker spot as the boy struggled to recover the breath that was still gone from him.

Raz’s hand shook, filled with anger so deep and cold he could only sense it as he fought against it.

This had been his home, the place where he was safe. As insane as it was, it was true. And Avvin had taken that away.

“You were my friend,” Raz said.

Avvin stared up at him, struggling to breathe.

Raz waited. Long moments passed. Anger fought harder.

“You have everything we want,” Avvin whispered. “You aren’t one of us.”

Raz’s hand shook and cut deeper.

Avvin winced, but didn’t look away.

Raz took a deep breath. In. Hold. Out. Let the relaxation flow out through his muscles.

Bastard.

Selfish, clawhanded, street rat bastard.

In. Hold. Out.

Everything? Everything they wanted?

Bastard!

In. Hold. Out.

“I’ve got money,” Raz said in a low voice, still struggling to hold himself in check. “But I’ve also got problems you wouldn’t want to trade for. The woman who set this up? Who paid the folks who paid you? She’s one of my father’s wives. You were working for my family. Idiot street rat. Even your father isn’t that much of an asshole.”

Avvin twitched.

“You never even wondered why someone wanted me dead?”

Avvin slumped against the stone and closed his eyes.

“I… I was just supposed to get you on the bike,” Avvin said. “I didn’t even know what was gonna’ happen after that.”

Raz stared at him. A pawn. Just a throwaway piece in a game of kicha.

“Idiot,” Raz whispered.

Math clicking along in the back of his head spat out an answer to a question Raz hadn’t even asked. He was looking at a dead man. Whether he drove the knife in or not, Suffiya was never going to let Avvin live. She was far too methodical to leave a frayed thread like this sticking out for the lawkeepers to pull on if Raz ever wanted revenge.

The anger fell away. He had his confession. Avvin was dead anyway. There was no further point.

He lifted the knife away and stood up.

“I’m done, Avvin. All of you can figure things out without me.” He looked around at the stunned expressions on everyone’s faces and snorted. “As if that wasn’t already obvious.”

He turned away from them and pushed his way through the few boys standing in the way behind him. They fell back before he even touched them.

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“Raz! Wait!” Chep ran up to him and grabbed his arm as he walked toward the door.

Raz looked down at the short catfolk boy. The bold black striping of his Pescayn heritage failed to hide the tear streaks in his gray fur.

“You can’t go, Raz. You’re our planner. We need you.”

“I’m sorry, Chep.” For Chep’s sake, he was. “I wasn’t kidding about the fifteen years. I’m goin’ to the big black tower to work for Vennir. Gonna get training and everything.”

Chep’s eyes went wide and Raz’s heart hurt at the pain in those big gold eyes. He lifted his arm up and and grabbed Chep’s bicep to give it a squeeze.

“You can come visit. I’ll let ‘em know who you are.”

“It won’t be the same without you.”

Raz sighed and flicked his ears.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said. “You will.”

He gave Chep’s arm another squeeze and headed for the door. The hinges squeaked a little as it swung open, enough to warn folks who were listening. He stared at the dark opening and the halls beyond. Behind him the boys were whispering again, the volume climbing toward shouting. Most of them sounded worried.

Not his problem.

He lifted his foot to walk through the door.

What is mercy?

The thought glinted at him like a gold coin dropped on the street. Just there, in his mind, with no sign of where it had come from. It froze him in place, so distinct and real that he couldn’t look away from it.

He lowered his foot to the ground and felt at it in his mind. It… didn’t feel like him. He furrowed his brow as he traced it mentally. Was it coming from Nissaya’s blessing? No. He knew the feel of a mental blessing, and the thought did not connect back to his new one.

It didn’t go away. As if the simple query had actual substance and had stuck into him.

He took hold of it.

What was mercy?

He hadn’t asked the old man that. Perhaps he should have, but he thought he already knew. It wasn’t like it was a complicated word, or particularly uncommon. It was letting an offense slide, right? Like letting Suffiya off with an accusation. Or walking away from Avvin when he knew the other boy had tried to kill him. Right?

No.

The concept went deeper than that.

The question lodged in his mind said it went deeper.

So deep he couldn’t even follow.

The word mercy in his mind had weight to it. It was heavy. As he studied it three other words came off of it. Compassion. Charity. Forgiveness. There was more, but just those three words expanded the concept to something that crushed him.

To bear the pain of others.

To salve that pain with whatever power he had, even if it was unowed.

To not only let wrongs against himself slide, but release them. And wish the doers well.

He shuddered with the insanity, a deep shiver moving through every hair on his body, up to the tips of his ears and down to his toes and the tip of his tail. Who would want this? Who could do it? Letting things slide when it was wise was one thing. Having it out with Suffiya would only explode the whole family. Killing Avvin was pointless even if it would be satisfying, and probably wouldn’t sit well with him later.

But this…

His instincts rejected it, but something else saw that glint of gold and couldn’t look away. Perhaps it was his curiosity. Perhaps it was the fact that he was the son of a merchant, and knew value when he saw it. But something within him picked up the word mercy just like the proverbial coin in the street and pocketed it.

He didn’t even understand what he’d done, what had just happened, but the thought vanished and he knew that just walking away wasn’t mercy. He was just accepting that someone else would get even with Avvin on his behalf, even if it was the person who had arranged to kill him in the first place.

He turned and looked behind him.

Avvin was back on his feet. The other boys surrounded him. Some were shouting. Waving arms and pointing at him and each other. Others were staring at the floor. Others watching Raz. Chep was standing by himself, staring at the dark windows on the far side of the room that looked out to the canyon outside and the river channel below. Ordale was rubbing the little bronze bracelet he always had on, covered in heavy script from one of the Orc languages.

Raz fixed his eyes on Avvin. As if the boy could sense it he turned around, meeting Raz’s eyes again. Confusion filled Avvin’s eyes and he perked up his brown ears. The other boys noticed Raz watching as well and went silent.

Raz felt in his storage space and picked several items. As he raised his hand a small leather bag appeared in it, just a drawstring pouch. With a flick of his hand he threw it at Avvin’s face.

Avvin flinched but caught the bag right in front of his nose. A crystalline ching filled the air, the sound of magic gems. Avvin’s eyes went wide and he tightened his grip on the bag, doubtless feeling the distinct shape of the round octagons through the thin leather. His expression queried Raz. Even if the bag only contained ruby gems, it was far more money than Avvin had held in his whole life.

And it did not contain ruby gems.

“There’s enough in there to buy passage on a ship to somewhere far away. Probably start a new life too, if you’re careful. Tide hasn’t gone out yet. If you go now, you can be gone by the morning.”

Avvin looked confused for a moment, then a little angry.

Raz shook his head. “You’re a loose end, Avvin. The woman who set this up? She doesn’t leave loose ends. Stick around, and you’ll find it out.”

The anger vanished from the boy’s face, and Raz saw a faint shiver in the hand holding the pouch.

“What about us?” Ordale asked.

Raz looked at the pale green face of the Half-Orc. Deep thoughts weighed on his brow.

“The rest of you should get scarce for a few days. Find someplace else to be. You’ll be fine once they figure out Avvin’s gone. She won’t pay for a bloodbath. Too much trouble.”

Ordale nodded.

“You got some messed up relatives,” he said.

Raz laughed.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

He turned again, and went through the door without looking back, uncertain of how he should feel about what had just happened.