Sage stared at the folder Miranda was flipping through. He had asked her to help advertise that he needed a crew, but instead of putting the word out, she had decided to assign him two of her own people.
He knew she was the captain of a ship called the Shadow Shark, a floating hub for secrets and trade, but he had never actually seen it. His involvement had been limited to naming the vessel and hunting down the sailors who held its deeds. He also remembered another woman on that ship, one who frowned every time she saw him. Miranda's puppy, as he liked to call her.
"Do you really need to go to Loen?" Sage asked.
Miranda did not look up from the folder. She had already told him that she would be leaving Bayam for a few weeks to settle something there. Apparently, staying in one place for too long invited assassination attempts from rival organisations. Whatever game she was playing, it was far too complicated for him to care about.
He was a simple man. Kill your problems and move on.
"Yes, I do," she said plainly. "I rented you a house on Bluepie Street. Four months paid upfront. And no, you cannot come with me."
Sage clicked his tongue and walked to the window. He pushed it open and let a few birds perch along the sill, feeding them crushed seeds from his palm.
"I wasn't going to ask," he muttered. "Who's going to kill the kings if I'm not here?"
"Don't lie to me, bitch," Miranda replied without missing a beat. "I know you better than you know yourself. Beyonder or not."
Sage didn't argue. She was right. He had been going to ask. But there was still too much left to do in Bayam, and even if he left, he would have to return eventually.
After a few more moments, Miranda slid two sheets of paper across the table.
"Your crew."
Sage picked them up.
Keith Panger. A native of Bayam and one of Miranda's earliest hires. His strength lay in information gathering and rumor spreading, though his real value was in logistics and supply networks.
Heidi Winters. Sequence 8 Doctor of the Mother pathway. Feynapotter native. Elevated by Miranda herself. Noted to be unstable.
Sage raised an eyebrow slightly as he read the note beneath her name.
A tendency to cut people open and stitch them back together.
"I can see why you didn't introduce the Doctor when I was injured," he said.
"She would have asked to cut you open," Miranda replied calmly. "And you would have said yes."
Again, he had no rebuttal.
"You can check on the house once in a while," she added, finally closing the folder. "But I'd rather you didn't."
Sage understood what she meant, even if she didn't say it outright. It wasn't just the risk of enemies targeting him. It was the risk of himself becoming the problem.
"You'll be back for the meeting with Queen Bass, right?" he asked.
"No," Miranda said. "Janica will attend in my place. As for you… wait until the meeting is over before you kill her."
Sage opened his mouth to argue, then paused. After a moment, he nodded.
He could wait a few hours. No need to rush something inevitable.
A few hours later, after the usual exchange of insults, Sage saw her off before making his way to Bluepie Street, Unit 47.
Settling in took less than ten minutes. Everything he owned fit neatly into a medium-sized suitcase.
He had two days before Keith and Heidi arrived. Two days of quiet.
And one more person to recruit.
A man Miranda would never approve of.
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The Swordfish Bar sat at the edge of the district, a place where adventurers, smugglers, and opportunists gathered. Three blackboards lined one wall, covered in requests and notices, but Sage had no interest in them.
He was here for the man who wrote them.
"Dunkin," Sage greeted.
The old man turned, flashing a grin of rotting teeth. The stench that followed was a mixture of fish, alcohol, and something poorly masked beneath it. It was enough to make a beggar feel rich by comparison.
Everything about him screamed ruin.
Everything except his eyes.
"I heard Sharkie left," Dunkin said. "What can I help ya with?"
Brush your teeth, goddammit.
"I need to learn more about mysticism," Sage said. "What I know isn't enough."
"You could always write to your family."
Sage raised an eyebrow, watching the man feign innocence.
"Dunkin. What's the price?"
The old man's grin widened.
"Your pathway. Your deeds are spreading, Wolfie. I know you're a beyonder. I want to know what kind."
Sage didn't hesitate.
"Then I'll need something in return," he said. "A Sequence 8 formula. Criminal pathway."
For a moment, Dunkin said nothing. Then he laughed, revealing far too much of his decaying teeth. Sage could have sworn he saw something move inside one of the cavities.
"Wolfie, Wolfie… I don't know whether to laugh or pity you," he said. "That's too much."
He paused, then leaned closer.
"But the first exchange is done. You'll get something by morning. Unit 47, Bluepie Street."
Sage let out a quiet chuckle. News really did travel fast.
Dunkin had once taken pity on him and Miranda, teaching them how Bayam worked before Miranda built her own network. In return, they had occasionally fed him, given him drinks, even shared a few secrets.
And one of those secrets had been the reason for his fall.
A woman.
A woman who fed him lies, ruined his name, and left him addicted to heroin.
"Is my ask too much?" Sage asked casually. "What if I brought Mrs Kelper to you?"
Dunkin's smile vanished.
He stepped forward, the air around him turning cold.
"Too little," he said softly. "Bring me her eyes and her tongue."