Chapter 26 The Pigeon Has Been Promoted

“How much is five gold?” Jin asked.

Kessa stared at him.

“A hundred silver.”

He looked at the two coins in his hand.

Then at the note.

“I should at least hear them out.”

“Calder buys creatures,” Tamsin said, reading the signature over Garran's shoulder. “Living oddities. Someone's told her you're one.”

“I have references.”

“You have a split lip and a wet shirt.”

“An approachable brand.”

Garran took the note away before Jin could start calculating himself by the pound.

“Ask what she actually wants. Don't climb into a cage because someone puts a price on it.”

“That was one time with the mattress.”

Kessa looked up.

“You were considering a cage?”

Jin decided he needed to go home.

He left one silver with Tamsin and took the other in his hand. The tongue-pin stayed beside his bent knife. Tamsin waved him away from her little charcoal brazier, where she'd begun heating the blade.

“I straighten it once,” she said. “Next time, buy something worth hitting a monster with.”

“What's the fee?”

“Tell your next paying fool who mended the step.”

Jin promised.

At home, Mira was asleep at the kitchen table with a presentation card stuck to her cheek.

He set the silver beside her hand.

She woke when it clicked against the wood.

For a moment she stared at him without recognition. Then her eyes narrowed at the lip.

“Did you win?”

“Eventually.”

She picked up the coin.

“Is this from there?”

He nodded.

Mira turned it over, touched the square hole and held it against the morning light.

“You could have brought breakfast.”

“Do you want me to take it back?”

Her hand closed immediately.

“No.”

He smiled.

She looked at the presentation card she'd peeled from her face.

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“Min-jae stayed on the call until I stopped rushing.”

“Did he?”

“Don't do that voice.”

“This is my normal voice.”

“Then get a different one.”

She went to put the coin somewhere safe. Jin put the kettle on before she could return and notice he was still wearing wet socks.

Theo arrived an hour later with the expression of a man who'd been sent a photograph he intended to treasure forever.

Jin had made the mistake of sending him the split lip.

“Congratulations,” Theo said. “You look like you argued with a door and lost the debate.”

“Four levels.”

“Again?”

“Twenty-three now.”

Theo's smile faltered.

He took a moment, then reached over and flicked the uninjured side of Jin's cheek.

“Horrible. I'm pleased for you.”

“You sound it.”

“I can be two things.”

They went to the Academy after breakfast. Theo wanted the small practice room; Jin wanted to know whether the letter on his badge had finally become as embarrassing as the pigeon.

Min-jae stood outside the recovery crews' office, looking at a notice through the glass.

He turned when he saw them.

“Mira said the presentation's tomorrow,” Jin said.

Min-jae's ears went red.

Theo stopped walking.

Jin smiled innocently.

“She said you helped.”

“She was already good.”

Min-jae rubbed the back of his neck.

“She thought I was waiting for her to make a mistake. I wasn't. So I stopped correcting the words and asked what she wanted people to understand.”

Theo looked at him for a moment.

“That was probably better.”

“Probably?”

“I'm trying not to praise you in front of her brother. He'll become difficult.”

“I'm right here,” Jin said.

“We noticed.”

“He means thank you,” Theo said. “He's practicing being unbearable.”

Min-jae laughed and came with them.

Instructor Lim was resetting the output pad when Jin entered the hall.

He looked at the F-rank badge.

“Recovery room's across the courtyard.”

“I'd like another measurement.”

Lim glanced at the lip.

“Hit the pad. Not whoever gave you that.”

Jin took his place.

The same hall. The same screen above it. The bird diagram was mercifully absent.

He set his feet and struck.

The pad slammed backward.

The rail hit its stop with a crack that turned every head in the room.

Lim looked at the screen.

Then at Jin.

“Again.”

Jin shook out his hand and waited for the pad to reset.

He wasn't borrowing a monster's pull this time. No slope, no collar, no friend holding something still for him.

He struck again.

Lim checked the pad's mounting, ran its self-test and pointed Jin toward the moving targets.

“Show me the step.”

Jin walked a clear five-stride approach, registered it and returned. He burst to the last mark, settled his heel and drove his palm into the target crossing it.

The target snapped off its spring catch.

Theo whistled.

Lim didn't.

He made Jin repeat the movement after the recovery, then complete the rest of the short assessment. Jin finished breathing hard, with sweat stinging the cut inside his mouth.

The screen refreshed.

Lim entered the result and handed him a new badge.

E.

Jin took it without saying anything.

Min-jae stood beside the bench, staring at the letter.

“It can change,” he said.

Jin looked at him.

“Yes.”

Lim folded his arms.

“Keep the old one.”

“Sentimental?” Theo asked.

“Useful comparison.”

Jin put the F badge in his pocket.

He hadn't felt lighter when the new one touched his shirt. He'd felt something heavier settle into place.

Then Theo leaned toward Min-jae and whispered, loudly, “Do you think they'll ask the pigeon to retake it?”

Jin bent over laughing.

When he straightened, Min-jae was still looking at the E.

“Show me,” he said. “How you started.”