[P] o sinnerman;

[Acton]

Acton these violent delights have violent ends His laugh is a deep rumble where one might expect the harsh cry of a crow. “Not for long, I wouldn’t be,” he answered, although his ears laid back at the thought of it, set out in the sun to shrivel and bleach and die. There was nothing he hated more than being confined. But there was nothing he loved more than the feeling after a grand escape, and those were only possible when you were trapped. The silver ghost drew nearer, Acton’s banked-fire gaze burning on him all the while. When he spoke it was as though he had followed the path of the buckskin’s thoughts – and for Raum, it almost seemed possible. His ears remained back at those mercury-smooth words, and he fought the shiver that threatened to raise hair in a line down his back. He did not turn his head, but his eyes followed his brother, and the look in them was hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said through a grin to match the look in his eyes. “They’re just so risky, my stage shows. A wonder Reich still lets me perform.” There were only so many times accidents like those could happen. It was a dangerous game he played, there between lies and truths. It was a dangerous game they all played, and that is why they did it. His mirth returned at the next question, and he peeled away from Raum with a toss of his head. “Indeed. You’re lucky blue isn’t my color. Though Lav was very interested in your blade.” He raised a brow at the Ghost, his expression remaining as the talk turned to women. This coaxed another laugh out of him. “Maybe he once could. But now he’s got himself a girl, I hear.” Strange, to see their gypsy king so restrained; Acton thought at once of both the last time he saw Reichenbach – there beneath an impassive moon, watching Maxence take flight – and of the golden girl he’d followed to the Solterran border, a girl with a viper’s tongue. There was that fire again, hot in his blood, licking his bones, burning his gaze with something like worry when he looked back at Raum. Only with Acton, worry manifested as anger. He followed the silver stallion to the cliffside, thinking only once what it might be like to leap. Or to push. They each held their appeal. “Maxence is a fool.” His hate was a clear thing, real enough to bite down on, to taste between his teeth. “But he isn’t stupid. He knows, Raum. Somehow he knows there is a Crow in his court. He came to threaten Reich with the knowledge.” His words were low and quick, a furious stream, but as they poured out his expression eased. His eyes were only for his brother. “You’ll have to be more careful than usual.” The words hung between them. Acton would never say please, would never disgrace either of them by voicing his concern. He had full confidence in the skills of all the Crows. But it was there in the fire of his gaze. But fire never lingered long on one thing. Again his thoughts turned to that snake-tongued girl, her derisive laughter, and his grin vanished, swallowed up by the night. “Have you met a girl, there, all gold with blue eyes? She wears a necklace, and is friends with Reich.” He couldn’t guess what Raum might think of such a question, but Acton needed power over her, even if it was only a name. @Raum