Chapter 17 · The Red Warrant

"You know what this is."

Luke held the red page between two fingers like it might bite. He folded it once and slid it into his vest pocket. His other hand stayed close to his belt, close to the iron.

I smelled the paper from three steps away. Old blood. Bitter ink. The scent made my teeth ache.

"Paper," I said.

"Paper with your name on it."

That stopped me.

I hadn't seen any writing before. Only red marks dark enough to pass for dried blood beneath the torchlight.

"My name isn't on anything."

"Not in English." He pulled the page out again and turned it toward me. "Look."

Three characters stared back at me. Brush strokes. Red ink that wasn't ink.

Qin Sheng.

My name.

Below it sat another line, longer and tighter. I couldn't read it quickly enough before Luke folded the page again.

"Where'd you learn Chinese?" I asked.

"I didn't. I know a wanted notice when I see one." His jaw tightened. "Bounty papers don't usually come in red. They don't usually smell like a slaughterhouse, either."

I backed into the mine shaft wall. Damp stone pressed through my shirt.