(6) The Last to Know

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I keep myself cooped up in my apartment for three days, my nerves calming little by little each day I wake up and the lorkins haven't come to collect me for my betrayal

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I keep myself cooped up in my apartment for three days, my nerves calming little by little each day I wake up and the lorkins haven't come to collect me for my betrayal. Then I figure it is about time I bite the bullet and visit the House of Horns before they come to me.

Grit and Grubble aren't guarding the doors during this watch and I find myself feeling slightly disappointed to not see them. The other two lorkins on guard duty today both glance at each other as I stroll up to the doors with my lightstick in hand. But they don't reach for the handles or open the doors wide.

For a moment, my heart stops beating, my lightstick trembling slightly before I hold it against my side to keep still.

Be calm. Be cool. Be collected. They know nothing.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" I ask, even though they are anything but gentlemen.

The taller lorkin with spiky golden hair and deep crimson horns lifts his chin, gazing at me down the bumpy bridge of his nose. "You're back later than they said you'd be," he says. Then he glances at the lorkin next to him. "You owe me fifty shinies."

"Ah," I say, raising one brow. "You're Kazko, right?"

"Yavo," he corrects me.

But I already know this. Reminding him of his unimportance by pretending I don't know his name only boosts the aura of confidence I'm trying to exude. All while I can hear my heart drumming in my ears, a song of impending death once they find me out. I need to get by them before they can sniff out my fears and insecurities, and the fact that I didn't complete the mission their boss gave me, and not to mention that I made a deal with the twisty mage.

I've dug myself a shallow grave. My face grows cold.

"You don't look so good," the other lorkin says, his scratchy voice identifying him as Kazko. His hair is buzzed nearly down to the scalp, his gray horns only growing to the back of his scalp.

They know. Quick. Throw them off.

I clear my throat and straighten my spine, taking a deep breath through my nose. "You try fighting an electric mage that took out four lorkin with a flick of his hand," I say, forcing the tremors from my voice. "Wait." I narrow my eyes at Yavo, suddenly recognizing him from the video Venjo had shown me and go with this divine twist of fate. "Were you one of them?"

Yavo shifts uncomfortably.

I scoff like he is a disgrace and wave my hand dismissively. "Get out of my way."

Kazko nudges Yavo, who has gone as still as his spiky hair, then they both open the doors for me. Their eyes are on me as I pass, their gazes prodding at the back of my skull. Being watched is a feeling that I've become so familiar with, yet still creeps up my spine because one of these days those prodding eyes will be a bullet instead.

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