I eyed the garbage scow as best I could.

  The p rain didn’t help with that, nor did having to stay colpsed onto the dock’s surface, thanks to the drenched Pure Blood standing guard outside it. The man’s weathered and battered top hat provided no prote from the onsught, but he was keeping a steady gaze on my seemingly prone form.

  It was fine. In a few minutes, I’d rise from my “drunken” stupor and stumble back to the safety of solid ground. I just o get the y of the nd first.

  The scow was one of those giant ohey’d built a couple of decades past, verted from a shallow draft river barge for bulk trading. Probably eighty feet long from end to end, and it must have some kind of metal pting otom.

  Otherwise, the Nover would have eaten through it.

  They’d built housing on it, two different ones with a half-doze iween them. Ramshackle buildings that had been built up over time but still looked like they’d fall over the moment the scow left the docks. Going out onto the Nover would probably be a st resort if it came utack.

  A shallow draft meant there couldn’t be too many people on-board, not uhey packed them in like sardines. Definitely a more suitable headquarters for when the Purebloods were just areet gang. Only one gangpnk ected it to the pier, that and a half-dozen m lines.

  Of course, clearing the distao the scow from the pier wasn’t an issue. The agitated Nover’s current ushing it against the pier, which was slightly tilting uhe weight. I kept a grip on the pnks as I preteo be passed out drunk as they tilted ever so slightly.

  The issue was getting on board without getting noticed. A little harder to do. But I’d seen enough. It was time to leave and prepare to make my way onto the scow.

  The lone guard would be suspicious of a random Infernal who fell onto the pier and y there food ten minutes before suddenly darting off. So I headed six piers upstream from theirs and waited. I’d begin my infiltration in an hour, for now just huddled between two buildings while the rain tinued.

  I looked at where the scow was tied to the docks, barely visible in the downpour. I could tell something was there, but any other details were obscured by the rain. It gave a general dire to aim for, as I walked onto a different pier.

  No one was on this ohe few boats and ships tied up here buttoned up. Good.

  There was one good way to infiltrate the boat. I’d bet on their security on the side fag away from the pier beihan strihan that on the pier itself. After all, trying to sneak in board the ship from that side would either mean a boat or swimming the Nover.

  There was flying as well, but I doubted the Pure Bloods ever thought themselves big enough fish to o worry about that. A boat would easily be spottable, and they probably figured anyone swimming the Nover would probably expire halfway to the scow.

  They were probably right. I’d only looked into the Astral once around the Nover and never again after. When you dumped this much garbage and crap into a river, the spirits inside reflected that. And those were the benighe ones who didn’t harbor feelings of revenge over their treatment.

  Those tter ones were supposedly kept out of the river after they’d begun attag river traffic. Patrolling the river to keep spirits uread was somehow sidered the cheaper option pared to handling the pollution.

  That left walking the water.

  I hadn’t brought much with me. A revolver borrowed from Voltar and Dawes, a saber, some knives, a few other tools and tricks, and a couple of alchemical solutions I’d brewed in the short time I’d been given.

  Another reason to dislike Viving me so little time to prepare for these. Alchemy and Biosculpting took time, and shortening that pushed me more and more to rely on my other talents. Was that the aim? To test how much I’d rely on Diabolism if repeatedly pushed into a er?

  Hells, he wao make me his apprentice as well. That articurly horrifying prospect.

  The one key alchemical substance I made would allow me to get onboard this ship if the Nover was cooperative. Looking at the river as it flowed by, that was doubtful. Currently, it hissed as the rainstorm exposed it to actual water for the first time in a while.

  There were potions for walking on water. You simply drank them and found that your body was repellent to water for the hour or so. The more plex ones even projected the field a little beyond your skin so your clothes would also be protected.

  What they didn’t do was give you the familiar sensation of walking on nd. Trying to keep your ban a liquid being actively repelled by your feet as your move was a learning experience.

  I’d learned how to do it, as had everyone in the Bck Fme. As disposable as Versalicci may sider you, even he didn’t want you to end up submerged in the Nover. If you were going to die, it would be for a purpose.

  Of course, potions for water-walking were retively expensive and time-ing to make.

  In the name of effid definitely not cheapness, I had not made one of those. I pulled out a small tin from my pocket, ope, and looked down at the dark blue paste inside.

  This would act simirly, only specifically on whatever surfaces I smeared it on. I had about enough for the bottoms of my hooves.

  I looked at the Nover, swollen, fat, and probably carrying enough pollutants to strip me to the bone before I reached the bottom of it.

  Perhaps the torrential rain would dilute the o a livable degree?

  It wasn’t that bad. After all, some studies I read suggested regur exposure only took a single decade off of your expected lifespan instead of two. Assuming you didn’t caty diseases from the Nover of course.

  Stop w, I told myself. People go swimming in the Nover. Admittedly, after a whole battery of protes id on top of them, but they still swim in it without losing yers of skin.

  I rubbed the paste into my hooves, taking note I should groom these and maybe grind them down at some point. Even with all the walking I’d doely, they were getting a mite te.

  Finishing that up, I eyed the roiling water uainly. Had a dam burst upstream? Even raining, the Nover was not normally this wild. Hopefully, it would mean those on the ship wouldn’t be paying attention to the water.

  It would also make this more difficult. The one good thing about the Nover being this swollen, what would be a ten-foot drop was now three.

  I stepped off the edge and fell.

  My hooves hit the water’s surface, and I stumbled as the moving surface tried its best to tip me into the drink.

  It was a tough walk, shed by wind and rain and with the surface of the water moving underh, but somehow I made it to just one pier away from the ohe scow was moored to.

  That was also not as restful as it should have been, holding onto a wooden leg of the pier as the flow of the ried to push me further. Being uhe pier meant being crouched over a in on myself to a ludicrous degree.

  After a half mio catch my breath with the pier above sheltering me from the rain, I stepped out.

  The Nover chose that exaent to swell, a half-foot waver surviving underhoof as I stepped.

  My eyes burned, and I shut them, but I got a glimpse of inky darkness as I forced myself not to breathe. No filiher; that would only unbance me even further.

  Don’t panic, I told myself.

  Yes, I side down in the Nover, only bei he surface by the water repelnt on my hooves. Ahere was in fact a slight burniion ae that was growing.

  I opened my eyes, only to immediately close them as they burned. I had seen little in the clouded murk of the Nover, but something rge was closing. I tried to make for the surface, struggling against both my clothes and my hooves. Not before I breathed in a lungful of that shite sewer water first before I burst out of the surface.

  Lungs burning, I ma just before my head rammed into the scow. I grasped the edge of the scow, pulling myself up as coughs racked through my body.

  I hacked up water onto the deck, coughing as I moved to the wall. Attempting to keep it quiet didn’t mix well with an overwhelming urge to force it out. I hacked and sputtered for a few seds, f as much of it out as I could till I could finally breath.

  My lungs still felt like they’d been kicked, and it didn’t feel like I’d gotten it all out. I was going to o spend a lot on inog myself on whatever that little dip in the Nover had ied me with. Maybe I could sider exorg my lungs? It only had a high probability of killing me?

  I slumped against the side of the wall, not trusting myself to stand up. Not just because I felt like it, but because the soaked deck would not i well with my still water-repelling hooves.

  At least this ship didn’t reek. Enough rain could scrub even a garbage scow of its stench.

  I scraped it off a few moments ter, then sidered how I wao do this. The rain still came down is and the shivers were ing on, but I couldn’t try sneaking inside. Looking over this side of the boat, there wasn’t even aran the side. Cmbering onto the roof wasn’t an optioher, too much ce of someone overhearing me.

  There was a small hole in one of them, not even rge enough to peer through, but rge enough to hear through.

  Well, it was sit here and risk one of them walking out here ihuorm, o to one of the two structures and hope it was unoccupied. Not really a choice. Pulling my cloak up both to cover me from the rain and muffle the sound, I put my ear up against the hole just in time to catch the sound of a door opening and an angry sounding yell of protest.

  “Harry, what the hell are you doing baside? You’re supposed to be standing watch!”

  “Fuck off Jasper. It’s fit to drown a fish out there, and the only thing I saw was some half-drowned foulhorn rat probably drunk out of their mind wandering up and down the docks.

  They left, and it was another half hour of pure misery. You want the docks watched so bad? You go out there and try looking more than a few feet in front of your own nose.”

  The argument tinued, although it didn’t sound like it would escate into violence as I settled down against the wall, chilled to the bone.

  The tinuing rain would not help with that, but anywhere else ran too much risk of being caught. I would not let that ordeal I’d just gohrough be wasted.

  I had a few hours to think, waiting for the night to arrive. That would be the time to go on the prowl when the members here either went to sleep or went out to do a night’s worth of disho work. Till then, I could just wait in my little nook, eavesdropping on the versation going on below.

  Not that insightful. Gang members pined about having to stay on the scow while others went to the underground. They didn’t mention any clues where it was, and from what it sounded like, none of those here were too high on the dder. Either new recruits or old members who souoo inpetent. The only one here who the totem pole was Jasper, and it sounded like he was just here to receive a message from a courier. Besides him there were twins who didn’t sound old enough to drink, the zy guard Harry, and a pair of older ones who went by Miller and Gawes.

  Just staying here sounded like the best course of a: wait here for the message to be delivered, then trail either the courier or Jasper ahe message from them, as well as someoo interrogate. Trailing would be a bit of an issue as the rain tio fall.

  It finally lessened in iy, to where I could see more than a doze away from me, but still not enough for people to be out and about.

  Of course, staying here was miserable. I felt chilled, far too much to be fortable, and my insides felt miserable. The rain and a dip in the Nover weren’t doing me any favors. First thing I’d do when I got back was find the rgest, fluffiest set of bs Voltar owned and make a out of them till I could actually feel my fingers and toes again.

  What little light passed through the barrier of the clouds above was fading when the door opening jolted me out of my stupor.

  “Where is Harris? I specified that what I had to say was for his ears only.”

  The voice was instantly reizable to me. Why, I’d heard it only yesterday myself. Lord Bartholemew Montague.

  “Boss is still stuck trying to secure the underground,” Jasper replied, voice reverent. “Apologies, your lordship, but it’s been difficult keeping the patrols up like you wanted. Not only are the Delver’s guilds still a problem, but those foulhorns are fug up our boys every ce they get, apologizing for my nguage, your lordship.”

  “Apology accepted. No, that makes sense. I’d go see him myself, but leaving the estate is being more difficult.”

  My eyes narrowed. No. Even if Lord Montague were in on this, there would be no dition in which he entered a group of Pure Blood’s hideout with none of his guards. Already ing here was risking it, but without any guards at all?

  No, I’d wager this was a shape-ger. Which meant trailing him would be too much of a risk. Too easy to lose in a crowd and too difficult to keep under trol.

  “Things are even worse than they were before,” Lord Montague ranted underh me. “Voltar came to my house today with another Foulhorn in tow. Another member of the Bck Fme. Clearly, there is collusion going oweewo groups.”

  Point one against the imposter’s disguise, not that the Pure Bloods would know it. Ah even an inkling of Versalicd Voltar’s matg of wits over the st decade would know that was impossible. A general agreement to stay out of each other’s way, like what was right now? Maybe. ht collusion? Definitely not.

  “On a further note, I have something I must share with you, closer to all of you.”

  There was silence below, and I waited—one breath, two breaths—before rolling to the side.

  Bullets ripped through the wall where I’d waited, and half a dozen holes bsted through the ceiling.

  Damnations. How had he known I was here? Not that his ‘e closer’ act had been very good, except to tip me off.

  Summon the hellfire granted upon you a us burn this barge to the ground! The Imp crowed in my mind.

  “Shut up,” I muttered as I ran, rounding the er and heading to the pier.

  Even if Dawes or Voltar weren’t actually testing if I was reag for Diabolism too easily under pressure, the truth is I ower ower, and its sirens’ song of temptation sung easily when I was given a foe to strike.

  Ahead of me a door opened, and Harry rushed out with pistol and knife in hand.

  I poihe revolver at him, grinning maliciously as I pulled back the hammer.

  Cursing, he turned around and rushed baside, someone falling over as he likely rammed whoever was in lio get out.

  I leaped onto the pier. There were other exits for them to take, and one of them would realize that my revolver was wet. It wasn’t even the revolver that was the issue, but I knew how poorly sealed civilian rounds were.

  I ran down the pier, ign the yelling behind me. As long as I could avoid being shot, I’d be fihe storm was letting up, sure, but not enough to give them a clear shot.

  It was a simple escape until a figure came walking towards me from the city.

  “Foul interloper!”

  Striding down the pier, Josiah Hawkens pointed his rapier at me.

  “You will answer for your assault on my allies with your life!”

  I sidered the shape-ger, then ughed in his face. Dropping the revolver, I drew saber and dagger.

  No diabolism? Fine.