"Hmm, what is with that face? You know these two?" the big man asked.
The question slid across the room like a blade laid gently on the tongue. Tull felt his shoulders loosen and tighten in the same breath. If the redheaded boy spoke even a single true name, the entire den would shift from market to battlefield. He did not want to cut the thread so soon. Their lead was thin as spider silk and he could already feel the heat of the palace behind it. Exposing the second prince here would not be a mistake. It would be a confession.
"Know them? No. They stink of poppy," Redd said. He lifted his cuffed hands and pressed both knuckles to his nose. "Stronger than your usual dirt. Too clean, too cut. It makes the stomach want to empty itself."
The gang leader's mouth peeled back in a pleased little grin. "Ah, that is why. A nose like this saves me time. No need for clever tricks. He can smell you for what you peddle."
