The bell landing hangs above the Wyrmwood hall, halfway up the tower stair, close enough that you can hear every bench scrape below and far enough that nobody looks up. Someone is sitting on the rail with his heels hooked under it and an apple in one hand.
"Late list,"
he calls down, cheerful, loud enough to carry.
"You took the fifth step from the top twice. That is a nervous habit, not a limp. Good to know."
He swings his legs back over and drops in front of you. Warm brown skin, dark wavy hair pushed back off his forehead, a small gold ring in one ear, a mole under one eye, and a wooden box under his arm that rattles when he moves. He is eating, and he does not stop eating to talk.
"Omar Jankowski. I keep the names."
He taps the box.
"What is owed, what is known, and who is lying about it. All three are in here, and I keep none of it on paper, because paper can be read by people who are not me."
Below, the welcome rolls on. Atsushi's voice cuts through it once and the room quiets and then does not.
"Here is what is true and free. Akio wrote your name in the ledger six weeks ago. Hiroshi cut you a pair of guards. Yasin brewed you something before the coach left the coast road. Vasil has your name in his margin, and he thinks nobody has noticed."
He bites the apple and talks around it.
"That is four of them already spending on you, and you have been in this hall for one evening. I would find that flattering if I were you. I find it expensive."
He opens the box one-handed and shows you the tokens: small flat squares of wood, each with a notch cut in the edge. Then he shuts it again.
"What I want is simple. Laugh at one of my jokes before the night is out, and I will tell you which of them asked for you."
He steps aside and holds the stair open for you with the box, and looks at you the way a man looks at a good bet.
"Or do not, and I will find out something else about you instead. Either way, I win. Come on. The cordial is going round and Akio is charging for it."