King Of Fools. Amanda Foody
this city is a game,” Harrison mused, drawing a cigar from his pocket. He offered one to Levi, but Levi shook his head. He hated smoking. “Do they still say that?”
“They do.”
“Even so, New Reynes must’ve changed a lot.” Harrison lit the cigar, and the car filled with its musky odor. “A seventeen-year-old street lord. I’m impressed you’ve survived this long.”
Levi stiffened, even though he was used to this sort of condescension. “I survived the Shadow Game. The Chancellor is dead—”
“Yes, yes.” Harrison blew a cloud of smoke in Levi’s face, making his eyes water as he scrunched his nose and held in the urge to cough. “And street lords who kill chancellors don’t live long. So tell me—why should I bet on you? Even though you were the one who killed the Chancellor?”
Levi narrowed his eyes. Was Harrison trying to test him? “I don’t know where you got such an idea, but—”
“Don’t play coy. The papers say that Séance killed him, but I know the truth. I have friends in the House of Shadows.” Yet another reason not to trust him. Maybe this was death coming for Levi after all. He kept his hand on his gun. “They’re embarrassed. Chancellor Semper, the revered Father of the Revolution, killed by some scrappy card dealer? But this Séance character... Well, she’s a more impressive villain.”
Levi’s moral compass didn’t point north past the North Side, but if it was Séance’s identity that Harrison wanted, he would never give that up. Besides, Levi felt he was an impressive enough character in his own right.
“I’m sorry the wigheads feel that way,” Levi answered, unable to resist the empty boast. “I’m sure they’ll find me a formidable enemy.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
Levi’s spirits lifted at those words. No one ever saw potential in him. Right now he could barely see potential in himself.
Harrison turned the page of the newspaper.
SENATE CALLS FOR WAR ON THE GANGS
“War is a strong word,” Levi murmured.
“It’s been said before,” Harrison replied. “And it’s why I’m here.”
Before the Great Street War eighteen years ago, two street lords, Veil and Havoc, had ruled the city like kings. It was the golden age of New Reynes crime. But then the wigheads had forced the North Side to its knees, and both of the lords were hanged in Liberty Square in a spectacle of justice and judgment. Ever since then, gangs like the Irons, the Scarhands, and the Doves had attempted to replicate those empires of old. But no one had succeeded, in part because the North Side had never truly recovered from the war, or from the Revolution seven years before it.
“They’ve talked about clearing out the gangs for years,” Levi said.
“The Chancellor was assassinated by—as the city dubs you both—two street lords,” Harrison said. “This isn’t just talk. It’s a promise. And the war has already begun.”
Nerves quivered in Levi’s chest, and he had the urge to raise his hand to his throat to assure himself there was no noose knotted around it. New Reynes had raised him on its legends; he knew the Great Street War’s bloodbath as if he’d lived it.
He scanned the rest of the article, which included the bounties not just of Levi and Séance, but the other lords and seconds, as well. It was the most informative write-up of the gangs he’d encountered since Enne’s unusual and questionable tourist guidebook.
Levi grinned. His bounty was the same as Scavenger’s and Ivory’s. Even so, he had a few grievances with the article. For one, the Orphan Guild wasn’t a gang—it was an enterprise. Second, breaking the law once hardly made Enne a criminal mastermind. And last, his title wasn’t Pup; it was the Iron Lord.
To his shock, each of those named also had a wanted poster—other than Ivory, of course, as no one alive had ever glimpsed her face. Levi’s pulse hammered as he studied each of them. In comparison to their fairer features, like those of the majority in New Reynes, Levi’s brown skin stuck out. He would be easier to spot, and more at risk.
Then his eyes fell on the detailed sketch of his best friend, Jac Mardlin, with his messy gray-blond hair and lazy grin. He was the only one depicted smiling.
Jac was likely still sleeping on Enne’s floor where Levi had left him. Jac always knew his association with Levi would cause him trouble, but he probably had no idea his wanted posters were already plastered across the city. Before he’d departed, Levi had shaken him awake and asked to meet with him this afternoon. He hoped Jac hadn’t ventured outside yet. The sirens were searching for him, too.
“They should put these posters on trading cards.” Levi faked a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
“You’re rather cavalier about all of this.” Harrison slapped the paper. “This is a death sentence.” That, too, he said like a purr.
“So was the Shadow Game,” Levi countered. “Now tell me—why are you here?”
Harrison drummed his fingers on the window ledge. On his middle finger, he wore the Augustine emerald ring, same as Vianca.
“I’ve returned to destroy my mother,” he said.
For the second time that morning, Levi had come face-to-face with his destiny. The sirens outside grew quieter, and the nerves knotting in his chest began to unravel. It was a second sign. Too blatant for Levi not to pay attention.
A New Reynes without Vianca—that he’d risk nearly anything for.
Maybe this was a new beginning after all.
“You know I can’t help you.” The omerta, an unbreakable oath Vianca had trapped him into taking, prevented Levi from hurting her. Harrison’s blood name was Augustine, which meant he’d inherited his mother’s talent for omertas, so he knew their rules better than anyone. And, of course, all of New Reynes—and certainly Harrison—knew that Levi was at Vianca’s mercy.
“But you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have a plan,” Levi added.
“I know my way around omertas. You can’t directly hurt her, but you can do almost anything else so long as she doesn’t expressly forbid it,” Harrison explained. “The Senate election for the New Reynes representative seat is in November. It’s one of the most influential positions in politics. Sedric Torren was the First Party’s candidate, but now that he’s been so conveniently removed, I’ll be taking his place.”
Levi’s breath hitched. It was no secret that Vianca supported the monarchist party, the First Party’s only opposition. However, despite radical measures, the monarchists had never once won an election, and they likely never would. Politics was Vianca’s crusade, and she would view Harrison’s campaign as the ultimate betrayal.
“You’re certain you’ll replace Sedric?” Levi asked. The city hadn’t seen Harrison in eighteen years. He seemed like a dark horse candidate taken to a new extreme.
“The new chancellor herself asked me to. You see, unlike previous years, the monarchist party has a growing amount of support—primarily here, in the North Side. Being from the North Side and with his Family’s connections, Sedric provided votes that are now crucial to whoever wins this election. So she gave me a call.”
“But you’ve been gone for years,” Levi said, furrowing his eyebrows. “What do you know about anything that’s been happening here?”
Harrison leaned forward. In the darkness of the car, all Levi saw was the glow of Harrison’s cigar and the outline of his once-broken nose. Nervously, Levi wondered if he’d offended him.
“That’s exactly why I need you to work for