Den of Smoke: Absolutely gripping fantasy page turner filled with magic and betrayal. Christopher Byford

much or too little trouble?’

      A smirk erupted. ‘That’d be telling. Ruins the surprise of finding out somewhat, don’t it?’

      * * *

      Bounty paused, finding delight in this little run-around between them. Times had been boring and in truth she missed his company more than his patronage.

      ‘So what brings you around talking to us working girls?’

      ‘Is it a crime talking to a working girl?’

      ‘Crime? No. Suspicious? Most certainly. It’ll make folks think that you want something.’

      Jack withheld his tongue this time, baiting her to encourage the conversation. Lazily she gestured in a circle to the space around him. ‘I remember when you used to bring me flowers.’

      ‘It wouldn’t be a treat if I brought them every time now, would it?’

      ‘No entourage in tow this time?’

      ‘I told them to take the long way home. It was with the best of intentions considering we have some mighty catching up to do.’

      Bounty tapped the ash from her cigarette with a charmed grin, letting him wait for her attention. And wait he did.

      ‘That we do,’ she finally agreed.

      Bounty was known, in the common tongue, as a Rose, reflecting her profession. Now this would be easy to mistake as a glamorous venture, but the truth of the matter was that she was no different from any other whore who made their trade in the various cathouses and brothels across the Sand Sea. What made a woman who had adopted the Rose namesake unique was that she was able to choose her clientele. As such, a Rose, and those who surrounded her, didn’t have to deal with violent, uncouth brutes who sought a five-minute rough and tumble.

      Bounty Rose had regulars, a rather short list of wealthy, though respectable folks that she entertained at this establishment. Each Rose would rent a room for a week at a time, though it was here, at the Ten of Hearts, where Bounty preferred to stay. She was unlike some of the more nomadic girls, who found excitement moving from place to place. Bounty preferred routine and regularity and, as such, Room 13 was practically her home. For the time being at least.

      Room 13 was adorned with hanging red silks, vases of fresh flowers and gifts from many satisfied suitors. Bounty was used to luxuries, many and unique; though favoured the unexpected more than anything else. It’s for this reason that she had a certain affection for Jackdaw. Whilst her regular clientele were a mix of officials and well-off folk, Jackdaw provided a roguish distraction. A danger.

      And nothing fluttered the senses quite like danger.

      * * *

      Bounty lay drawing her fingers over Jackdaw’s head. Their post-coitus routine normally wound up with one being attentive to the other. Wisps of smoke haunted the ceiling from the cigarette stuck to his bottom lip.

      ‘You’re not relaxed in the slightest are you?’

      Jack nodded slowly.

      ‘You always were a tough one to keep settled, I’ll tell you that.’ She sighed. ‘A restless sleeper is a sign of a restless mind.’

      He puffed smoke between them, declining to confirm or deny this accusation.

      ‘So what is it? Woman troubles?’

      ‘Nah. I don’t have any of them. Haven’t had them in a long time. Wouldn’t be here if I did, right?’

      ‘Scoundrel.’ Bounty plucked the cigarette from his lips and took her turn, painting the paper with her lipstick.

      He wheezed a dishevelled reply. ‘Ain’t that the truth.’

      ‘So it’s over business?’

      ‘Somewhat. We’ve got a new recruit now by the name of Cole.’

      ‘And how is he turning out?’

      ‘The kid’s interesting. Knowledgeable, very smart like. Comes from money. Worked for a mining company from what he says, if he’s speaking true.’ Jack knew that Cole’s potential would be revealed with time yet felt the pangs of impatience. ‘Following orders like he’s supposed to. Hasn’t swung at me yet so that’s a plus. Figure it’s early days to assume anything else. To say any more would be a folly. A boredom too.’

      ‘Quite.’

      ‘I’m just protecting your interests. I wouldn’t want my favourite girl to mistake me for a bore.’

      ‘Perish the thought. When are you going to do good on your word and take me away from all this?’ She slipped the cigarette back between Jackdaw’s teeth. ‘You used to woo me with tales of grand scores and a never-ending horizon to race to. Never a Bluecoat could catch me, you’d boast. You would make a decent woman out of me, you promised. Fancy that. Me. Decent.’

      Bounty’s voice trailed off in thought, dwelling on such a thing. It would have been indulged in further if he didn’t playfully strike her backside. Claiming a thin red robe that clung to her sweat-covered skin, she sat at her dresser, watching the man observe her in a hilariously opulent mirror. She took a hairbrush from within reach and began to ease her hair back into some sort of presentable shape.

      ‘The minute I have an equally decent amount to my name, good lady. I need to keep you in the lifestyle that you’re accustomed to. Fine foods, hot water, satin sheets, soft beds. Those things don’t come cheap. Money woes seem to be arising of late. Not my choice, mind.’

      ‘I am an expense to maintain for sure,’ she purred, brushing her hair that shimmered in the lamp’s luminescence. ‘Wouldn’t you agree I was worth it?’

      ‘Not a doubt in my being.’

       Chapter Five

      Deals going wrong, deals going right

      It took a couple of weeks until Cole was trusted with errands and errands were all they were. Fetch groceries, order supplies and very occasionally deliver letters. The letters themselves were well-sealed affairs to expose any attempts at tampering and, sure, Cole did, on occasion, feel the pangs of curiosity as to their contents. He thought better of it and delivered them to bar owners and shopkeepers, who each thanked him with a great deal of gusto.

      For a while, Cole believed that he would be stuck as a second-rate deliveryman. There was certainly no stated intention of handing him more serious work, though his frustration over this was never vocalized. He saw how Jack treated others who attempted to outgrow their position – Blakestone most regularly, for he seemed to constantly push the boundaries of what was acceptable. Not wanting to endure any verbal lashings, nor threats of the physical sort, Cole wisely kept his grievances contained.

      Jackdaw had done plenty to keep Cole busy but today hands were short, so Cole would have to accompany him on an apparently auspicious job. No details were discussed beforehand, only suggestions to carry out his chores quicker so they could be on their way. Time was, apparently, wasting.

      Daylight welcomed the pair as they strode out into the long streets of Esquelle. Sandstone buildings of various compositions bordered the roads, their façades pitted by wind and war. Those with places to be strode on with purpose, those without took a more relaxed pace. The occasional truck bounced along the cobblestones, its body rattling loudly, along with its cargo and driver as it put-put-putted along.

      Cole kept a brisk pace to keep with Jack’s own, stepping around those who marched past with importance clouding their manners. They moved past the docks, where the sand ships dominated the skyline with their enormous hulls, and into the trading quarter. It was here where most of the shady deals were done. It was just out of the way of the markets and stores, to operate on the fringe of legality, but close enough to give the impression