Grandma Alba jumped to the ground. “Now, a claim like that requires proof.”

Grandma Cielo lowered herself from the cart next. She didn’t really believe it either; I could tell from her tight mouth. And why should she? They’d lived past eighty without ever seeing the King of the Dying Sun. Their parents hadn’t met that person either, or their parents’ parents. Why should this strange young man be it?

I stood up on shaky legs. No doubts left in me, unfortunately. If he was mad at us—well, make the Megarchon’s guards mad and you’ll be lucky if you’re still alive when they dump you by the roadside. Make the King of the Dying Sun mad at you? I couldn’t even begin to imagine what could happen. You might as well make the sky open just for you and unleash a lightning aimed right at your head.

Quietly, the man removed one fingerless glove and showed us the back of his hand. For a moment, something glowed in his veins, brighter and clearer than the moonslight. The brand of the Imperium.

My mouth felt as if I’d swallowed a mouthful of dust. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“No you’re not.” Vanth wasn’t looking at me. “You’re not sorry, but frankly I wouldn’t expect you to be.”

He sounded so emotionless you’d think he was buying train tickets. Good thing my self-control is impeccable; he didn’t even suspect how much I wanted to punch him in the kidney.

Auntie Estrella gripped the carriage’s side. Untie Lago had slung an arm around her shoulders, I don’t know if to comfort her or to hold her back. Nothing could stop my grandmas from standing between that stranger and me, not even if he was the king of a million suns. But my Auntie and Untie had children of their own to think of.

Well, he wouldn’t touch anybody in my family. My hand still had a good card. I hadn’t missed the way he looked at me when I taunted him. As long he wanted my body, I had something to bargain with. I’d better make the most out of it. After all, I knew how.

“I can make it up to you.” Though I sounded perfectly casual, polite even, my heart was racing.

Just for a moment, that look flashed through his eyes again, and it was gone.

“You need a healing spell,” he said.

I tilted my head toward Grandma Cielo. “My grandma’s a healer.”

“Fine. After that we will discuss the matter of compensation.”

“Sure.” As usual, my voice remained calm and friendly. “Surely there’s something I can do for you, right?”

He stared at me, then cleared his throat. “No, that’s not it. You’re the one who deserves compensation. It’s because I attacked you that the real necromancer escaped. Will you allow me to accompany you home? No, don’t answer yet. I’ll send the needleteeth away. We shall discuss this when you’re healed.”

Vanth took a step back, avoiding my eyes. It was childish of me to think that, but it felt wrong that he wasn’t an old guy. He couldn’t be much older than me. Maybe thirty at most.

Grandma Alba stepped on my side. She looked as squat and wind-scoured as you’d expect from an old farmer from the Dorontean hills, and moved faster than you’d expect from someone her age, though she'd slowed down with age. Or so said Grandma Cielo.

Speaking of, Grandma Cielo examined me with a frown. She was thick and round, especially at the hips, and rarely moved fast, but also rarely stopped moving. She still wore her apron, which looked slightly weird if you didn't know she wore it all day long. Naturally she wouldn't stop to remove it in an emergency.

“How fucked up are you?” she asked.

“Not fucked up, just a bit bruised.”

Her concerned frown turned into a relieved smile. “Yeah. This time.”

Grandma Alba observed Vanth, hands on her belt. “I don’t think we should accept any hand-me-downs from him.”

Honestly, that was the sensible thing to do. Nothing good ever comes out of having a government officer around—never mind bringing one inside your house. That’s unheard of. And the King of the Dying Sun? So much worse than an officer. He and the Megarchon were each in a category of their own. Best for him to go on his way and forget us as fast as possible.

Except I had my own reasons for wanting Vanth on my side.

So many times before, Grandma Cielo had healed me after I'd fallen from a tree trying to take a better look at some bird. She ran her hands over my back with a soft touch, assessing the damage. As she told my muscles and bones how to knit themselves back together, they itched slightly. I knew that feeling so well. It told me I'd be fine.

But I was looking at Vanth. As promised, he’d gone to handle those things, who'd flattened themselves even closer to the ground. If they hadn't attempted to eat me, I would've considered feeling sorry for them.

Kind of a pity his personality wasn't very appealing, too, ‘cause he really didn't look bad at all. Allowing you were fine with slightly dead beanpoles. Seeing how he made a point of wearing pants that clung to his sinewy legs and little round butt, I really doubted he was unaware of it. Someone who spent however long taming that hair into a cascade of neat corkscrews couldn’t be entirely indifferent to his own looks. At least I was reasonably sure he hadn’t gone to the point of artificially curling it like that. It wasn’t fashionable. Then again, he sure didn’t seem to care about fashionable.

I said all that, but it’s not as if I paid attention to a man’s personality anyway. He could put me in my place and that called to me like grain to mice.

Even if he was a bad idea? Especially if he was a bad idea.

“How many times do I have to tell you to leave humans alone?” Vanth asked the creatures. I suppose it was a rhetorical question, because he replied to himself with an exasperated sigh. He lifted up his hands and clapped three times fast. “May the world open its gates.”

The hairs on my nape rose up; I swear I felt something in the air tear itself in two. Those things slunk away, disappearing one by one. Or that's what it looked like. More likely, Vanth had sent them away. Back to the Underworld, because where else would you send them?

This, then, was the power I could only dream of.

I kissed Grandma Cielo's cheek so she'd know I wasn't taking her for granted. “Thanks. I feel so much better.”

My clothes hadn't sustained any tears, but the knee patch was nearly ripped off. Not bad, I could get it fixed before dinner.

The ghost crawled out and stood by my side. They seemed to be looking up at me.

“I'm fine, see? You should go with that guy now. I know he's mean, but he won't hurt you. In fact, there's no safest place for you to be.”

We exchanged waves as they glided away.

Vanth leaned over the ghost. How curious: the look in his eyes was downright gentle, and when he spoke, his voice was almost soft.

“Are you ready to go now?” He tilted his head as if he could hear the ghost speak. “Thanks for letting me know. Better luck next time.”

Huh.

Vanth took a knife from a leather sheath hanging from his belt. Bone handle—no, ivory. Of course that’s what a rich guy like him would carry. He pricked his fingertip, squeezing out a drop of blood into the dust, and repeated the incantation from before.

The ghost seemed to disappear almost instantly, like a puff of smoke blown away by the wind. I swallowed, unable to take my eyes away from the spot where I'd last seen them. A part of my mind refused to admit I'd just seen the ghost vanish before my sight. But I suppose it was inevitable. This was a person, no matter what they looked like.

Vanth’s eyes met mine. He still had that coldly superior look. Not that I was surprised: though he seemed to be particularly adept at conveying his contempt with the lift of an eyebrow, all city people felt the same. Others were more blatant or more crude in their contempt, that was all. They saw our colorful cotton shirts and wool gabardine trousers and dusty work boots of mitema leather, got a strong whiff of homemade scent, and looked at us as if we'd sprouted from the ground next to our squashes.

We just didn't give a shit about them, even if we had to be careful not to let it show.

Vanth returned to our side. He looked slightly antsy, as if he’d just noticed his fly had been down the whole time. Well, the more he regretted his actions the better for me.

Careful now. Everybody who is somebody has hangers-on. Being too obvious could backfire on me.

I offered him my hand. “Seeing how you’ve introduced yourself, I should do the same. Name’s Azul Mamani.”

Vanth shook my hand with a light touch, as if he was afraid he'd squeeze too hard. Rich city people don't shake hands like common cart drivers, so it wasn’t surprising that he’d be unused to it. He was willing to speak my language: a good sign.

“Let’s discuss what I can do for you, shall we?” he asked.

“Sure.” I turned to my grandmas. “I'll go ahead with him so the kids will stop worrying.”

Grandma Alba said nothing more than, “Hmm.” Grandma Cielo sighed, but let Untie Lago give her a hand up into the cart. “Be careful not to fall off. That contraption looks flimsy.”

Vanth gave me the helmet. I'd assumed its dark visor didn't make everything look dark, or else how would he drive? Indeed, everything looked even clearer with it on. I turned my head, looking all over the place. The helmet's fit was a bit loose on me, but it'd do for the ride home.

He tied his hair up. “It amplifies scarce light and diminishes the glare.”

“That's handy for when the moons are dark.” Everyone knows the Underworld is closer by night, especially in a silver noon. When you take that into account, it wasn’t so surprising Vanth looked half dead. He probably stayed up all night chasing necromancers. And hadn’t he’d just crossed half the world to catch one? I guess that explained his personality some.

I climbed on the motorcycle behind him, but didn't know what to do with my hands.

“We're not in a ballroom,” he said. “Hold on tight. Wouldn’t want to make your grandma worry, would you?”

So I did. His waist felt smaller than I expected, and I kinda wanted to squeeze it harder. It didn’t seem wise though. Before I realized what was going on we set off, and for a moment I was sure I was going to fall off after all, so I did cling with all I had.