“Tell that to Bow Street.”
Ferryman paused just long enough for King to dart around a table and out of the corner Ferryman had been forcing him into. Now he had a path to the exit. The tavern was all but empty save for a few of Ferryman’s men, waiting for orders—and blocking the door.
“You’re bluffing,” Ferryman said again.
“Then come outside and see for yourself,” King said.
Ferryman looked at King then gestured to one of his men, who ducked out the door. That was one gone, but there were still too many to allow King to escape. Sweat began running down his brow as the fire made things hotter. He’d thought Ferryman and his men would try to organize a team to fetch water and extinguish the fire, but they seemed strangely unconcerned. It appeared King would have to lead them outside, as he doubted the Runner would enter a burning building—even if Ferryman was the prize.
He waited another few heartbeats then said, “Your man isn’t coming back. Bow Street has him.”
Ferryman shook his head.
“They’re out there,” King said. “If you didn’t believe it, you’d go see yourself. You’re scared.”
“Bow Street can’t take me.”
“Not if you had your whole gang, but you sent half of them away, and others fled from the fire. Now you have a handful and Bow Street waiting on the other side of the door. There’s no escaping that way.” King pointed to the back of the tavern, where the flames continued to grow and smoke poured in. His throat and eyes had begun to burn, making him want to cover his nose with his sleeve. They couldn’t stay in here much longer. The fire was growing in size. “Perkins!” King called, coughing. “I have him, Perkins!”
Ferryman seemed to come to some sort of decision. “Take him outside,” he ordered one of his men. “I’ll fillet him on the street right after I call his bluff.”
Two men grabbed King and dragged him through the door. King didn’t resist. He wanted out of the burning tavern. As soon as he was through the door, he gulped in the cool night air. He scanned the few people still milling about but didn’t see Joshua.
He did see Perkins and about a dozen Runners, all armed and standing ready. As soon as Ferryman’s men saw the Runners, they released King and ran. Perkins raised a hand, indicating his men should remain in position. He wasn’t chasing any of the minnows when the big catch was coming through the door.
King moved aside and glanced at the tavern. Flames were coming out of the back windows now, and smoke poured into the dark night. A few men had arrived with buckets, prepared to start a brigade, but the Runners were holding them back. Now Ferryman sauntered out of the tavern, dagger still in his hand.
King thought he would remember the look of shock on Ferryman’s face for the rest of his days. The crime lord’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. The expression was so perfect as to be almost comical. He had quick reflexes, though, and only paused a moment before turning to run. But the Runners had anticipated this. They closed in and cut off his escape, sweeping him up as well as some of his men. They were armed with clubsand various other blunt objects, which they used liberally to persuade Ferryman to go with them.
King decided that was a good time to make his exit. He stepped back and into the crowd of people gawking, then slipped into the alley and raced down to the rear of the Black Bear. Fire leapt from the roof of the building and some of the upper windows. There would be no salvaging the tavern, nowhere for Ferryman’s successor to gather his men. By the time the next arch rogue came to extort Violet, King would be ready with blunt and brutes to defend the place.
That was, if Violet allowed him to stay.
He lifted a hand to protect his face from a shower of sparks then spotted Violet cowering under a broken awning hanging from the building nearby. “What took so long?” she demanded. “I was about to come looking for you two.”
“Two? Didn’t Joshua meet you?”
Her eyes widened. “He’s not with you?”
“No. He got out before me. I thought he’d find you straightaway. That was the plan.”
Violet started for the front of the tavern. “Apparently, he didn’t follow the plan. Children often don’t follow plans.”
King caught up to her. “I’m sure he’s watching Bow Street take Ferryman away.”
She glanced at him, her face red in the glowing light of the fire now eating up the tavern. King’s heart began to pound, but he shook off the panic. Joshua was out of the tavern. King saw him leave.
*
Violet cut throughthe people gawking at the burning tavern or at the Runners loading gang members into the back of their wagon and called for Joshua. King echoed her. It seemed noone answered, but if they had, she wouldn’t have been able to hear them. Neighbors were passing buckets of water in a line, attempting to put out the fire before it spread. Ferryman and his men were yelling. The Runners were shouting orders.
In short, the scene was one of pandemonium. That was exactly what they’d wanted—except Joshua was supposed to be with one of them at all times. That had been the plan.
King and his plans! She’d known this was too dangerous.
“Joshua! Joshua!” Violet grabbed a man. “Have you seen a boy with blond hair and brown eyes? He’s about this tall.” She held a hand to her shoulder.
“No. Excuse me. I need more water.”