Sharp Ends: Stories from the World of The First Law Read Online Free PDF Page B

it.’
    Crandall smiled. ‘You’ve always got plans, Shev. They never come to nothing.’
    True enough, and mostly on account of bastards like this. ‘Maybe my luck’ll change,’ said Shev. ‘What do you want?’
    ‘I want something stolen. Why else would I come to a thief?’
    ‘I’m not a thief any more.’
    ‘Course you are. You’re just a thief playing at running a shit-hole Smoke House. And you owe me.’
    ‘What do I owe you for?’
    Crandall’s face twisted in a vicious grin. ‘For every day you don’t have a pair o’ broken legs.’ Shev swallowed. Seemed he’d somehow managed to become more of a bastard than ever.
    Mason’s deep voice rumbled out, soft and calming. ‘It’s just a waste is what it is. Westport has lost a hell of a thief and gained a very average husk-seller. How old are you? Nineteen?’
    ‘Twenty-one.’ Though she sometimes felt a hundred. ‘I’m blessed with a youthful glow.’
    ‘Still far too young to retire.’
    ‘I’m about the right age,’ said Shev. ‘Still alive.’
    ‘That could change,’ said Crandall, stepping close. As close to Shev as Carcolf had been and a very great deal less welcome.
    ‘Give the lady some room,’ said Severard, lip stuck out defiantly.
    Crandall snorted. ‘Lady? Are you fucking serious, boy?’
    Shev saw Severard had that stick of hers behind his back. Nice length of wood, it was, just the right weight for knocking someone on the head. But the very last thing she needed was him swinging that stick at Crandall. He’d be carrying it up his arse by the time Mason was through with him.
    ‘Why don’t you go out back and sweep the yard?’ said Shev.
    Severard looked at her, jaw all set for action, the fool. God, maybe he was in love with her. ‘I don’t want—’
    ‘Go out back. I’ll be fine.’
    He swallowed, shot the heavies one more glance, then slid out.
    Shev gave a sharp whistle, brought all the hard eyes back to her. She knew well enough what having no choice looked like. ‘This thing you want. If I steal it, is that the last of it?’
    Crandall shrugged. ‘Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. Depends whether I want something stolen again, don’t it?’
    ‘Whether your daddy does, you mean.’
    Crandall’s eye twitched. He didn’t like being reminded he was just a little prick in his daddy’s big shadow. But Shev was always saying the wrong thing. Or the right thing at the wrong time. Or the right thing at the right time to the wrong person, maybe.
    ‘You’ll do as you’re told, you little gash-licking bitch,’ he spat in her face, ‘or I’ll burn your shit-hole down with you in it. And your fucking Prayer Bells, too!’
    Mason gave a disgusted sigh, scarred cheeks puffed out. As if to say, He’s a rat-faced little nothing, but what can I do?
    Shev stared at Crandall. Damn, but she wanted to butt him in the face. Wanted to with all her being. She’d had bastards like this kicking her around her whole life. Almost be worth it to kick back just once. But she knew all she could do was smile. If she hurt Crandall, Mason would hurt her ten times as bad. He wouldn’t like it, but he’d do it. He made a living doing things he didn’t like. Didn’t they all?
    Shev swallowed. Tried to make her fury look like fear. The deck was always stacked against folk like her.
    ‘Guess I haven’t got a choice.’
    Crandall blasted her with shitty breath as he smiled. ‘Who does?’

    Never consider the ground, that’s the trick to it.
    Shev straddled the slimy angle of the roof, broken tiles jabbing her in the groin as she inched along, thinking about how much she’d rather be straddling Carcolf. Down in the busy street to her right some drunk idiots were haw-hawing way too loud over a joke, someone else blabbering in Suljuk which Shev didn’t understand more than one word in thirty of. Down in the empty alleyway on her left it seemed quiet, though.
    She inched to the chimney, keeping low, just a shadow in the darkness, slipped