Nikias leaned into the shrubbery and vomited. He hacked and gasped, then he vomited again.

“Man, Niki.” Lukios clicked his tongue, but patted Nikias on the back in what was supposed to be a soothing way. It really only made him retch harder. “How much wine did you drink?”

Nikias glared at him from beneath the black fringe of his own hair. “You gave it to me.”

“Yeah, but it was just one goblet. One. And I watered it down.”

This was true.

Nikias grimaced and heaved again, but his stomach was empty. Nothing came up except sour bile.

“Here.” Lukios tugged him to the left, toward the little burbling fountain. They were making their way back up to the acropolis now, and Lukios was taking them along the wall, away from the crowds.

Nikias would not be caught dead wandering around like this, never mind vomiting. This was why they had left Iphram and Dolus behind; it would not do for his own staff to see him like this. Askles and Epitus had been given the undesirable task of breaking the news of Nikias’ early departure to the steadfast pair, but Nikias was sure the two men were up to the challenge.

“What?”

Lukios tugged at him again. “The fountain, Nik. You need some water.”

Nikias, as ill as he was, managed to fix the taller man with a look of disapproval. “Are you insane? That hasn’t been boiled. It comes out of the wall.”

“Yeah? And?”

“Lukios. No. That’s disgusting.” His friend of eight years only laughed.

“It’s fine, Nik. I haven’t dropped dead yet, have I?”

And now Nikias was appalled. “That’s revolting. Men piss into that water. They piss into it.” This was illegal, but that never stopped drunken plethos from behaving…poorly.

Lukios laughed harder. “No one drinks from the pool, Nik. We drink from the spout.”

“No.”

“Well, if you say so. Guess you like the taste of your own—”

“Lukios.”

“Haha! Okay, fine, fine. Hang on.” Lukios put his arm around Nik’s waist, holding the man up. Lukios' loud, vibrant soul seemed to reverberate right through their clothes and into Nik, rattling him, but he wasn’t in any condition to refuse. As subtly as he could manage, he tangled his bare arms with his cloak so they were covered. Touching skin-to-skin would be a disaster.

Nikias should have known better than to have any wine at all. He’d taken enough belaruna to fell even the legendary Sa’nuvan, so adding wine to the mix had been a terrible, terrible idea.

How did he let Lukios talk him into these things?

Lukios half-carried the shorter man to the bench, which gave Nikias a very nice view of the fountain. It was a public fountain, and the water from the pipes were relatively clean, but there was no guarantee as to its potability once it had burbled out and into the basin. Did people not boil it? That would prevent—oh. Yes. That did explain things. Diseases often ran through the outer quarters in waves, with very little explanation. It was likely the water, then, so perhaps he ought to start a program—

“You awake?”

“Yes, Lukios.” Nikias breathed in through his nose, slowly. “I’m awake. Don’t jostle me.”

Lukios snorted in amusement, but did not push. “I don’t think we can get water from anywhere. Oh wait, there’s a light on over there. Hang on.”

“What? No. Lukios, don’t bother—” But it was too late. Lukios was already wandering toward the open window of a street-level taverna, which, if the position of the moon was any indication, was likely already closed.

Ah, Hā́idēs take it. Nikias closed his eyes and breathed, taking in the smell of the city. The night air was cool and crisp, but the streets smelled of piss and other refuse. His stomach lurched again.

…Did he not already have city slaves clean the streets twice a week? Perhaps he ought to make it thrice a week? Why did it reek so much?

Distantly, he heard the murmur of low voices, and then a laugh, then rapid footsteps. Lukios sat down beside him and handed him a cup. “It’s phouska. You can just rinse and spit it out.” Nikias opened his eyes and accepted the cup, then blinked, surprised by what Lukios held in his other hand.

“Flowers?” Well, that was fast. Normally it took longer for people to really try courting the Lion. Lukios grinned so his teeth flashed in the moonlight.

“Yup. Paid half a copper for ‘em.” He waggled them in the air. “Ba’an’ll like these.”

Nikias blinked. Ah. Of course. Ba’an again.

He took a swig of the phouska, swishing it around in his mouth thoroughly before spitting it into the gutter. Then he did it again, trying to decide if he ought to say something.

Nikias was not quite sure what Ba'an really wanted—yet. But witches were always bad news. On the other hand, a smitten man was a deaf one, and if they quarrelled over her here, Nikias knew Lukios would simply begin rejecting his counsel on principle.

Better to let it rest, then. They had other things to discuss.

“Lukios.”

“Hm?”

Nikias stared up at the sky. Kyros did not have torches on public streets, though that was on his list, too. The lack of lighting made the streets dangerous, but the stars and moon clear. This was not a sight available on the streets of Astropolis. The view was good from his own bedroom, but the streets below the acropolis? No.

It was a pity Kyros was a shithole, and stank like one too. But not for too much longer. It would be yet another shining jewel on the crown of House Astros once Nikias was finished. It would.

“I won’t have you investigated. But I want the truth.” He took a breath, then let it out. “Did you raid that compound?”

Lukios was silent. When his spoke again, the levity was gone from his voice. “I notice you said you would exempt me. But not anyone else."

"Should I have?" Now this was almost as good as naming names. Lukios, Lukios, Lukios. That was not how this game was played; to think he had only been gone five months.

Had he been addled by the sun? Or was this something else, now?

"Cut the crap," Lukios snapped. "It's been a long day. I'm tired."

So was Nikias, but he was hardly complaining. He only raised an eyebrow and waited.

Lukios broke first. "So who's his replacement?" The man's voice was calmer than it had been a moment ago, but that only meant he was in one of his more mercurial moods.

"Who?"

"Heru, Niki." The look the man threw his way was sharp enough to cut glass. "Don't tell me you didn't know, or that you weren't planning to give him the axe soon, anyway."

Nikias sipped his phouska, keeping the grimace off his face. It was an insult to wine, that's what it was.

"I'm not sure I like what you're implying, Lukios."

"I'm not implying anything." Lukios rolled his eyes. "I said what I said."

Nikias sighed. “I don't know why you think I sit around plotting assassinations all day. Do you have any idea how much work that is? No, Lukios. I was not plotting to murder Heru Rusa Sabi any time soon."

"Really?" Lukios eyed him. "You were going to let them keep doing it?" His voice grew even sharper. "You're serious?"

"Define 'it', Lukios."

"Selling kids, Niki. Selling kids!" He slapped the stone bench, hard enough so the smack echoed down the street. Nikias took another sip of phouska, waiting for the spate of temper to pass.

"Their parents sold them," Nikias retorted, calmly. "That makes them poor parents, but I cannot arrest customers of legal transactions, no matter how distasteful I find them."

Lukios sputtered. "You're fucking serious. Fucking—Niki!"

Dryly, Nikias replied, "I said what I said."

"That's not cute. That's not funny. By the gods-fucking Styx, Niki. You know they had no choice. What could they do? They had other kids, and the debt—”

"Was legally earned." Nikias breathed through his nose. "Lukios. I understand this is...difficult to accept. But I cannot arrest men without evidence of wrongdoing, and there was no evidence. None. Everything appeared legal, and as distasteful as this practice is, it is not against the law. And that is what our office maintains: the law." He fixed Lukios with a hard, flinty look—one that was most certainly harder than mere glass. "We do not fall into hooliganism because someone tells us a sad story. This is Illos."

Lukios expression went cold and bitter. "Oh, yes. This is Illos. How could I possibly forget."

Nikias surrendered, squeezing the bridge of his nose with his fingers to stave off his headache. "These things change slowly, Lukios. The solution to a disagreeable law is to change it, not to break it whenever the whim takes you. That is the road to chaos. Anarchy. Barbar—”

Lukios began to laugh. Nikias only sighed again, and let him get it out. Finally, he stopped. "Barbarism," Nikias finished. "We have already discussed this."

"Nothing's changed, you know."

"It takes time, Lukios." Nikias looked down at the phouska and swirled in around in the cup, watching the moonlight glint between the ripples.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

"You said that eight years ago." Lukios laughed again, the same humorless laugh as before, but somehow more: more biting, more sour. "No wait, I was wrong. It's worse now."

"It's not."

Lukios' expression went incredulous. "You can't be serious."

"I am."

"You—ha. Niki. We can't free slaves until they're thirty now. Thirty. How is that 'better'?"

"I didn't say it was better. I said it wasn't worse."

"Still not cute. Or funny."

"Lukios." Nikias spoke as patiently as he could manage. "The reason the manumission laws changed is because of a lack of supply. In the long run, this is good. This is an opportunity." He took another sip of phouska. "Speaking of which, I needed to talk to you about this anyway. After you're done with that fort, I need you to talk to Stefanos. We have a golden opportunity now to—”

"No." His tone was flat, certain.

Nikias paused. "You don't even know what—”

"No."

Nikias put the cup down on the bench and looked at him. "What are you saying?"

"'No.' It was pretty damn clear, Niki. I'm not doing shit for you."

Nikias frowned. "But you don't even know what I'm proposing."

"Don't care. No."

Nikias raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so quick to refuse, if I were you. It's exactly the sort of thing you'd like."

"Nice try. No."

"Well, I suppose I did try." Nikias picked up the cup and drained it. "Nice talk, Lukios. Like I said, I won't be investigating you in the morning, but I'll be sure to question your friends about their little murder-spree at the compound."

Nikias didn't turn to look, but he heard Lukios take a long, calming breath. "Sometimes I really hate you, you know that?"

"Yes." He put the empty cup back down.

"What happened to all that law and order, Niki?" Lukios' tone was waspish, surly. "Shouldn't you arrest me?"

"Arrest a dead man?" Nikias shrugged. "That seems like a stupid thing to do. Besides, who'll rescue poor Eirene of Dentrios if not Lukios the Lion?"

"One of these days," Lukios muttered, "you'll out-clever yourself."

Nikias smiled. "But not today."

Lukios only sighed. "Fine. Let's hear it."

Nikias cleared his throat. "You'll like it."

"Uh huh."

Well, he'd get over it. He always did. "I need you to propose something to Stefanos in my stead." Well, Nikias had had no intention of proposing anything to Stefanos. They had a working relationship, but the man was still a Helios, and he knew it.

Rekos would have been Nikias' first choice, but Rekos was dead, and Lukios was right here.

"I'm not asking him to tear down any poor-houses." Lukios paused. "But if it's a temple, I'll do it for free."

"Not cute. Not funny." This time Nikias rolled his eyes. "Why would I want him to tear down a poor-house? Don't be a shitheel. No. You'll like this one."

"Mmhmm."

That tone was just insulting. Nikias did not tear down poor-houses to make space for temples.

He reined it in. "Like I said, this is an opportunity. We have a surplus of unemployed veterans who, for whatever reason, cannot re-enlist. They're getting restless and violent. They need work." This was a serious issue, and not just because of violence; they were short on soldiers, too. But a cripple was a cripple, and it'd be idiocy to send them into battle. The soldier shortage could not be addressed at present, but the issue of unemployed veterans was relatively simple.

Lukios raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"We're short on slaves, right across the empire." Which was a direct consequence of the disastrous command decisions during the Sander excursion, decisions Nikias had cautioned against; no one had listened to him, of course, on account of his Sanderness. Idiots. "This is the perfect time to push legislation making a percentage of the workforce hired by anyone with an annual income above plethos standards be citizens. It solves both problems at once; we fill in the gaps in the workforce, and the men get work—and money." And men who were preoccupied with feeding their families did not spend their hours fomenting bloody uprisings.

Nikias tried his best to discourage bloody uprisings. They were...well, bloody. Unpleasant business, all around.

"Huh," said Lukios, and Nikias knew he'd won.

"Told you you'd like it."

"I wouldn't go that far." But Lukios' tone had dropped the sulk. The larger man turned to look at Nikias, raising an eyebrow. "So what do I get in exchange?"

"I believe I have already implied I would not have your friends strung up for murder."

"Don't just imply it, Niki." Lukios rolled his eyes again. "You gotta say the thing out loud."

Nikias nodded. "Eventually, but only if you agree to the rest."

"The rest?"

"Yes." Nikias grinned. "I want one of ours making the legislation. I'll send him along with you when you go to Heliopolis."

Lukios sighed. "Stefanos' gonna hate this, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"You hate me."

"Don't be ridiculous, Lukios. I'm very fond of you. That's why I'm not having you strung up for going on a murder spree in the middle of my city and starting a fire that took out four buildings."

"Because it's more fun to kill me slowly, hm? Am I right, or am I right?" Lukios paused thoughtfully, then added, "And I did not start that fire. Fuck you."

"He's not going to kill you, Lukios. You're his cousin. His favorite cousin." Nikias imitated his tone. "And I don't give a fuck if you didn't start it yourself. It started because of you." Nikias had no doubt he had roped his two gullible friends into doing the dirty work. Askles and Epitus were not the brightest...anywhere. Loyal? Yes. Brave? Yes.

Bright?

No.

"That's...not as good as it sounds." Lukios grimaced, but Nikias only shrugged. Stefanos was a difficult man, at times, true, but there were worse fates than to be his favorite something. And if he had hated it that much, well. Nikias had already suggested a solution, a solution Lukios had refused.

"Well, you should have married my sister when I told you to." Half-sister, actually, but 'sister' sounded better. It made the refusal more damning.

"Sofia hates me and now she hates you too."

"She doesn't hate you. She's sensible." And it would have made Lukios a nominal Astros, except he had opted to be adopted by Rekos instead. From anyone else it would have been a snub, except Lukios did not quite seem to grasp the concept of how these things worked, and his devotion to Rekos had been…

Well, slavish.

Which was not at all surprising, considering his background.

It was still a little insulting, though.

...More than a little.

Not that he was holding a grudge about it. That would be childish. Lukios could not possibly understand what an insult that had been.

...Surely.

Lukios held up a hand. "All joking aside," he continued, "you have to sweeten the pot."

Nikias raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" If there was one thing the Lion had in spades, it was audacity. It was amusing when he turned on others, but less so when he turned it on Nikias.

"You know this is a hard ask, or you'd have just sent one of your other friends. Or a cousin." This was true.

"I'd say the balance is just about right."

Lukios was already shaking his head. "No. You want me to go up and kill a bunch of bandits—"

"—which is something you had to do anyway, on account of lady Eirene being held hostage still—"

"—but you gave me absolute shit for numbers."

Now those were fighting words. "I did not."

"You did." Lukios was grinning now, that 'I-know-something-you-don't-know' grin that was just infuriating. "And if you agree, I'll sweeten the pot, too."

...Oh?

"With what, exactly? You don't exactly have the bargaining power here."

"Oh, get off your high horse. They were gangsters. No one liked them and you don't actually give a fuck they died. Admit it. I did you a favour, cleaning up those streets."

Nikias sighed. "You didn't. You've created a vacancy within the hierarchy of the criminals in this city." He had no doubt that the Bloods and the Sons were plotting their little gang war even now. "The violence will escalate, Lukios. That's what you've done. And I'll need more sandals on the ground to keep it from spilling into the streets in broad daylight."

"Huh." Lukios paused. "Point." He scratched his chin. "Hey, want me to go—"

"No." If he hadn't been exasperated before, he was now. "Will you stop trying to stab every problem to death and think it through? Gangs are like weeds; pull one out, and another one sprouts in the same spot the next day." It was easier to simply set them against each other in a constant state of attrition.

"I don't stab every problem I—"

"What's your deal, Lukios?" Nikias needed to go to bed. He was tired. He was exhausted, and he was starting to lose his edge.

Lukios snorted his displeasure, but let it go. He put his hand into the folds of his chiton and pulled out some papers. They looked like they had been torn out of a ledger of some kind. Nikias blinked.

Well, he hadn't been expecting that.

"What if I told you that Red Stride Fort doesn't fit that many bodies?"

"I'd say you were bad at math."

Lukios smiled. "You've never been up there, have you."

Obviously not. Why would he?

"The point, Lukios."

"The size of the canyon limits the size of the fort. Your numbers are too damn high. They're not fitting in there, not unless they're sleeping out in the sand—and that'd be just stupid. That's like begging a cliff-cat to eat you."

"Those numbers are calculated based on witness accounts and the lost—"

"Except those missing shipments weren't raided by bandits, Niki. They disappeared here. In Kyros."

"The gate guards gave the same numbers."

"Your gate guards are lying shits. Someone's getting his palms greased. I'm serious." Lukios flapped the papers in Nikias' face. "I can't believe you missed this. You're getting old, kid."

"Hilarious as ever." Nikias held out his hand. "Let me see it."

"Nope. Not until you agree."

"To...?"

"Lay off Ba'an."

...Wait, what?

He must have said it out loud.

"I said, 'lay off Ba'an'." Lukios' expression had gone serious in the space between the first word and the last. "I mean it. You're upsetting her, and that's upsetting me." He fixed Nikias with a stern glare. "So stop it."

Nikias caught himself, just in time. "I am not...laying on her, as you are so crudely suggesting." What a completely asinine choice of words.

"Cut the crap, Niki." Lukios scowled, looking more upset than he had all night. "You're sure as fuck doing something. What's gotten into you anyway? There's nothing wrong with a Sander anyone coming to Kyros in peace. It's a trade town. It's what people do."

"Nothing." Nikias rolled his eyes and stood. "Nothing's 'gotten into' me, Lukios. And you're right, she has as much right as any other freewoman here, but you must admit it is strange."

"What? That she came down here with me 'cause I asked? 'Cause that's what I did, Niki. I asked her. She hates this place. She only came because of me. So stop."

Nikias sighed. "You cannot possibly believe that's all there is to it. Lukios. You're nearly thirty. You're too old to be this naïve."

Lukios started to laugh. "Niki," he said, finally. "You've made up something exciting in your head, I get it. But that's not how the rest of us live." The look he gave Nikias was far too knowing, and therefore, irritating. "She's not a spy. And she didn't seduce me; I seduced her. So just stop."

"Stop what, exactly?" Nikias kept his tone casual. "Doing my job?"

"Investigating her for spycraft, you paranoid prick." Lukios stood, and the two men glared at each other, the previous sense of camaraderie suddenly gone cold.

"How odd that you should bring it up," Nikias said, pointedly. "Is that what I should be doing?"

"No." Lukios bit the words out. "But you're not going to believe me, are you?"

"If she's exactly who you say she is, there isn't a problem."

"She is."

"Then what are you so worried about, Lukios?" Nikias began walking. Lukios kept pace with ease; he was the taller of the two.

"That you're going to ruin the best thing that's ever happened to me. That's what I'm worried about, you heartless fuck."

"Watch yourself." Normal mode of speech or not, it was disrespectful. Nikias was an Astros. "And she's not, Lukios. She may seem like she is, but she's not." Well, that had come out more bitter than he had wanted—but it was true.

Witches were always bad news. Always. They didn't love the way normal people did, if they loved at all; the calling was all. The duty. The work.

"Oh yeah?" Lukios snorted. "Says the guy getting divorced. Your love life ain't mine, Niki."

Nikias stopped walking, compulsively covering his empty ring finger with his other hand.

Perceptive fucker.

"Irrelevant," Nikias said, and he was pleased at how steady his voice was. "Let me give you some advice, Lukios, though I know you won't thank me. You can take the witch out of the shi-vuti, but you can't take the shi-vuti out of the witch. Understand? Things might feel good now, but feelings change. You'll be picking your guts up off the floor later."

"Well," said Lukios, "you're right. I'm not thanking you for that pile of nonsense. What the fuck does that even mean? Take the shi-vuti out of the...?" He shook his head. "You need to take a gods-damned vacation. Maybe you'll be less squirrely after. Get your marbles back in order."

"Cute, Lukios. Very cute." Nikias sighed. "I'm not being heartless. I'm being kind." It was true.

His hand drifted to his cheek, feeling the ghost of his father's fist. It had been the first and only time Nidemus had ever struck him.

Because of Tii'ka.

"Uh huh." Lukios shrugged. "Whatever. I don't care. My point is, leave her alone and play nice, and if you manage to keep it up aaallll week, I'll give you a present. Good?"

"No."

He sighed. "You're going to be a little prig about this, aren't you?"

"I am not." Nikias glared through the dark. "What'll you do if she is a spy? You'd be committing treason, you absolute fuckwit. No woman's worth that."

"Watch yourself," he sniped back. "And she's not." Lukios ran his hand through his hair. "She wouldn't be caught dead."

"Is that so?"

"Mhm." Lukios looked remarkably confident; Nikias frowned. "She wasn't that kind of witch, anyway."

Nikias snorted. "Oh? And since when are you such an expert on Sander witches?"

“I’m not.” Lukios shrugged. “But I love Ba’an and I’m going to marry her, so deal with it.”

Nikias stopped walking. "What?"

"I said," repeated Lukios, "I love Ba'an and I'm going to marry her." He met Nikias' eyes, unflinching. "So fucking deal with it."

Well, shit.