Chapter 6: The Gold Table

"Because he's seen a grey hand before," I said. "Your sister's."

"He saw her hands," Joris said. "He'd know they were grey. He couldn't know what she could or couldn't do with them."

"Unless she told him."

"She was hardly awake."

He stood up and brushed the slate dust off his coat.

"Be careful, Liesbet," he said, and went down the ladder before I could ask him what he meant.

The next morning the clerk came to our door with a summons to the Gold table.

The hall was busy, the way it always is before the parties go down.

Every bench stopped talking when I walked up to the dais.

The six Golds sat in their row with the Guildmaster's chair in the middle.

Coppens sat in it with his left hand on his chest, as always.

Joris sat at the end of the row and didn't look at me.

"Hunter Raes," said the Gold with the iron beard. "The table has an offer for you."

"I'm listening."

"You brought a man up from five yesterday," he said. "The table is grateful. The city is not."

"Half the market thinks you can kill a man by touching his sleeve," said the Gold with the shaved head.

"Mothers are pulling their children off the street when you pass."

"I've never touched a person that way," I said.

"They don't know that."

The Gold with the iron beard folded his hands.

"The table will give you Steel today, without a heart," he said. "In return, you swear before the hall that you'll never unmake again."