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

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strolled back around the table’s circumference, placing the spilled glasses back onto their bases. He filled one halfway and handed it over. As he made the gesture, he nodded once more to Alvina who withdrew her threat and stepped back.

      The drink was taken, drained, and the glass firmly placed back onto the table.

      ‘Sit,’ Jackdaw offered. The intruder scowled in scepticism, so this was repeated. ‘I insist.’

      He did so, begrudgingly. If he was to take a bullet through the skull, he may as well be comfortable in doing so.

      ‘Now we can talk. What’s your name?’

      Nothing.

      ‘I’m not going to ask twice,’ he insisted.

      ‘Cole,’ came the response, blunt.

      ‘Cole. Just Cole?’

      ‘Cole Roaner.’ He emphasized the surname.

      ‘Doesn’t ring a bell.’

      ‘It wouldn’t,’ Cole retorted, still quite stern.

      ‘You mentioned something of me stealing monies. Yours I’m assuming?’

      * * *

      Adrenaline still burning through him, Cole supressed the tremor that attempted to splinter his words. He had obsessed about this moment for the best part of a month, though imagined slightly different circumstances – mostly them being in his favour.

      ‘You did a job on the Eastern Point Bank a couple of weeks back. Cleaned it out from top to bottom. By the time Bluecoats showed up, they were greeted with the sight of a piss-empty vault and six individuals all hog-tied and buck-naked.’

      ‘Six was it?’ Jackdaw tested. ‘Well I recalls it being a different number.’

      ‘The papers inflated it but I assure you: four tellers and two guardsmen. Naked as the day they entered the world.’

      ‘Quite the sight. A lot of people lost their money that day. I’m struggling to see why I should hand over yours. You’ve not given me any suitable reason so far.’

      ‘I just want what’s mine.’

      ‘Now, now, I stole it fair and square. I don’t have it any more of course. That’s not how the game is played, not around here. Don’t let the sand fool you. This here is a lake we each can drown in and everyone answers to a bigger fish. You, on that day, answered to a bigger fish. So sorry, you’re fresh out of luck. Besides, have you never heard that saying never take the shiny from a jackdaw?’

      Cole’s eyes narrowed. He sized up the weapons on him, wondering if they had lowered at any point. They hadn’t. Finally Jackdaw waved them to holster. He had this under control.

      ‘You’ve been tracking me ever since I take it, Little Fish?’

      ‘I have. You crooks don’t exactly keep a low profile.’

      ‘Crooks? Ouch.’ Jackdaw feigned hurt. ‘But colour me impressed nonetheless. Not many would do that. I suppose you know my reputation?’

      ‘I do.’

      ‘And you could have gone to the law. Got a nice, fat reward for the information I bet.’

      ‘But I wouldn’t have got my money back, now would I? Besides, the law has no business in my affairs. I don’t need Bluecoats sniffing around.’

      ‘You and me both.’

      Cole rubbed his jaw, thoroughly, probing at the flesh with testing fingers.

      ‘Your man there has a mean swing.’

      * * *

      Jackdaw observed Blakestone prop himself on the bar and swill from Cutter’s open bottle. He needed to drown the embarrassment and not quickly enough. Alvina took a mouthful of her own before sliding it back along the countertop. With her uncle making the sorry trio, they each watched the conversation for any change in tone or threat.

      ‘That he does,’ Jackdaw said, ‘though I think we need to talk about little upstarts like yourself getting the jump on us. I’m as surprised as you are. Maybe I need to be paying him more.’

      Blakestone grumbled under his breath, which his employer noticed.

      ‘Or less,’ Jackdaw added, taking a measure from his own filled glass, ‘but you have done something few others have. You’ve impressed me, kid. It’s the sole reason why you and I are talking, instead of your body waiting to be found by rats while vagabonds fleece you of your clothes.’

      There was a pregnant pause. Cole downed the last of his whisky and placed the vacant glass between them. ‘So where do we go from here?’

      ‘Isn’t that just the question. What do you do for a living, Cole?’

      ‘A job? Don’t have one. Not no more. I sold the ore from a strip-mining firm out west. Since they found me to be good with numbers, I worked the books as well. Being that you knocked over the local bank, they closed doors on account of everyone losing their money. It put me out of a job. It put plenty out of a job.’

      ‘I see.’ Jackdaw smiled to his colleagues.

      Already Blakestone knew where this was heading. He hid his pout, glad that his other eye was hidden behind its patch. It was painfully obvious.

      ‘Want one?’ Jackdaw asked.

      ‘With you?’ Cole scoffed.

      ‘What, you have a better offer on the table?’

      It was a fair point.

      ‘What would I be doing?’

      ‘It depends. What are you good at?’

      ‘Numbers. Bookkeeping.’

      ‘Creative bookkeeping?’ It was now Jack’s turn to probe.

      ‘Like I said, I’m good with numbers. Very good.’

      ‘There’s a skill. You as handy with that gun of yours as you are with a pen?’

      ‘You would have been unfortunate to find out.’

      Jack clapped loudly in delight, tossing his head back with laughter. ‘Lucky I wasn’t out in the open now, wasn’t I?’

      Cole’s eyes narrowed. Unperturbed by the fact that he could be a corpse a long time ago. This clearly wasn’t how he’d envisioned tonight going down, not by a long shot.

      Jack may have been jovial but he was as sober to the situation as could be.

      ‘What about my money?’ he spat.

      ‘I’ll give you the chance to earn it back tenfold. Take it or leave it.’

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