“I’ve got kin, lemme go!”

Traejan pulled him back, shoved him harder against the wall, lifted Cuddy up off his feet, not far, but enough to ensure he could make his demands face to face. They could be coming. They could be coming right now!

“I saw Fik and Bichell in the crowd.” He gripped the man’s coat tighter. “What did they do after the fight?”

“Your woman’s fight?”

“Did I miss all the other fights tonight?!”

“I was just saying,” Cuddy struggled under his grip.

“Did either of them call in?”

Cuddy looked away.

“They did, didn’t they,” Traejan shook his head.

But why aren’t they here yet?

“Gil said he hear something.”

Traejan released his grip a little, lowered the man, took a step back to give Cuddy room to breathe.

“What’d he hear?”

Cuddy looked down.

“What did he hear?!”

Cuddy looked up at him; mouth playing around while pondering what to say.

“Do you want me to do what the others do?”

“No…”

“Then tell me what I need to know. I can guess he called for a bunch of the men to come down for the trilium.”

Cuddy replied with a toothy grin.

“What do you expect? They didn’t want to take the woman on by themselves, might get hurt.”

Traejan sighed.

“What did he hear, Cuddy.”

The man went back to staring at his feet.

“Fik’s not one of the Ginga’s boys so much anymore. That’s why he’s been hanging around here with the Bichell’s. The Ginga didn’t believe him, wanted him to bring one of the brothers up to tell him face to face.

One of the brothers? Streck!

So much for Althea’s deal with the hall keepers – betrayal – sooner. He wondered how much of a cut Jorhe and Josh were going to get for selling them out. Traejan released the smaller man, watched as Cuddy adjusted his coat, glanced furtively back up.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Was that it?”

No. Traejan couldn’t leave it at that. He shook his head.

“I did try to help around here,” he told Cuddy.

The man shrugged again.

“This is the Ginga’s town, maybe you should have tried harder.”

“I don’t like hurting people, Cuddy.”

“Seem to have learned,” the man forced out his reply. “What do I get for the beating they’re going to give me later?”

Traejan empathized, remembering the beatings he’d survived, the blood, the broken bones, the pain. He pulled out his key. Now that they’d left, the resort was locked up tight, Mende’s security system a barrier to anyone trying to enter – steal. What did any of it matter now?

“Do you know what this is,” he wagged the metal stick at Cuddy.

“No,” the man’s eyes followed its movements.

“It’s the key to the resort,” Traejan told him. He looked over the buttons, played out a sequence.

“Here,” he held it out to Cuddy. The man held back, reluctant to take it. Traejan waggled it in his face. “Take the damn thing. It’s the key to the resort, man.”

Cuddy took it gingerly.

“Why are you giving it to me?” He held the key like it was rotten meat.

“We’re going south,” Traejan told him. “If we’re not back in a month, the key will become active. You can go there, take whatever you want, move in, whatever. We’ve got food, heat, water, power.”

Cuddy looked at the thing in his hands, looked back up with narrowing eyes, questioning. Traejan held up an index finger.

“One month,” he repeated. “If we’re not back by then – what do you think?”

Cuddy looked confused for a moment, gave a furtive smile, then headed back to continue his scrounging.

Traejan watched him go, found a chair to sink down into, a moment to try to take in what had happened since they’d got to Panak. It was all too much, happening too fast. And it was all out of his control.

Why? Why was speed to important to Althea? He didn’t understand the woman at all.

He sat in the dark hallway, fingers pressed into his forehead trying to think up answers, but nothing new came to him. The only thing he was sure of was the Ginga’s men were coming, and they had to get out of the hall, out of Panak. Soon.

The old man was in one of the sleeping rooms the brothers had offered them. The musty odor was apparent the moment he opened the door – Nostalgia. Kyso was lying in a cloud of the stuff, senseless, didn’t even react to his approach. Traejan shook the Kyso awake.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he demanded angrily. “Where is Althea?”

“Just went to sleep in the other room,” the old man replied, slurring his words. “She was very tired – best to leave her be for a while.”

Traejan glared at the man. A look of fear rose on Kyso’s face in reaction.

“What are you going to do? Tell her? Please Trae–”

Traejan swore, unable to maintain his fury, settling to dismay.

“No, you’re going to show me the rest of your pack and I’m going to throw it out,” at that the old man looked affronted. He shook his head.

“What? Are you going to smoke up when the mechs arrive? What part of dangerous don’t you understand anymore?”

“I’m sorry,” Kyso told him, shamed. “I just needed it for one last time. I just wanted to see the fight again. See what she did. You know what my memory’s like.”

“That’s enough,” Traejan told him. “Unless you want me to tell her how much worth you truly are. Well?!”

Kyso shook his head. Traejan started looking around for the rest of it.

“The Ginga’s thugs are going to be by soon,” he found a small packet, opened it, saw the crystals, hoped the old man didn’t have any more of it. “Get ready for company.”

“Who told you that?” Kyso asked, sitting up in bed.

“Does it matter? They are coming, and they will have weapons.”

“We can’t leave right away,” the old man said. “It’s the dead of night Trae, and there aren’t any clouds. It’ll be brutally cold out there. Maybe they won’t come tonight. Come on boy, Althea barely made it to her bed. She was dead on her feet. Give her a few hours.”

Traejan shook his head.

“We don’t have hours.”