by Hugo Damas
It might be, in part, why she hated dressing up. As much as Jamie was used to, and very good at, deflecting or otherwise taking care of herself when it came to undue advances, there had never been such strong tactics as the first time she had dressed up as an actual girl and attended a ball.
Jamie had underestimated the lengths an old man would go to, but Amara had not. The old man was now dead, and Sarah remained…okay.
Jamie no longer drank or ate anything that she didn’t serve herself from a source she witnessed other people take from. That had been the very important lesson to take from that night, but on the other hand, the whole tragic affair had provided her the opportunity to get an angle on Amara, arguably the most powerful woman in the world. So all and all, it had been more positive than not.
“Less surprised than I thought he would be,” Sarah finally replied. “Apparently, it was the very reason why he was never fond of me attending these events. But he changed his mind about you, and said that if you are there to watch over me, then he feels better about it.”
The Lady of Light smiled warmly and extended her arms to her. “Oh, my little lady, that goes without saying. Of course, I’ll watch over you.”
Sarah accepted the small hug and proceeded with the small talk.
Working such a trained and experienced target like Amara took a lot of care. Someone used to deceiving would know a lot of the tricks and could recognize ‘tells’ based on their own experience. Takes a thief to know a thief, and all that.
But Sarah wasn’t a thief, she was a spirited and kind little girl who had little control over her emotions and was still learning all about life and growing up.
She had never complained about the dresses, so for lack of a better topic, and partly because she really did wonder what Amara would say, Sarah shared that with her.
“Oh sweety, you think because you fake it, it’s not really happening?” Amara asked.
“What?”
“Think of actors, my little lady. Do you think that their performance, and their characters, leave no real impact?” Amara asked.
“Well, they do.” Jamie wasn’t a fan of theater, few were the actors that weren’t embarrassingly phony. “But what of it? It’s still not who they are.”
“It’s not like anyone else could pull it off, Sarah. Are these things uncomfortable at times?” Amara gestured at her amazing dress, “perhaps. Do they attract eyes motivated by the basest and lustful of regards? Here and there, sure. But what I see most is the amazement.”
Sarah opened her eyes in understanding.
“This is self-expression, sweety, not a lie. Just like acting, you can simply look at someone else and try and fake their performance, but that is when it doesn’t work. Fake does not work. Fake gets you ignored.”
“Lust seems to be fine with fake,” Sarah commented to the side.
“Lust is a base, worthless perspective,” Amara said, waving her hand dismissively, “it brings nothing to no one but motivations best left unearthed. It deprives all involved of true perspective!”
Amara was surprisingly passionate about that topic. It surprised Jamie.
“Wonder. Fascination. When someone gapes, their eyes sparkling, their hearts stopped, their souls moved, their days made. You can’t fake yourself into that.” Amara held up a hand, “beauty, my little lady. The real thing is not accessible to all, much like any other trait, but even to those blessed enough to have it, it’s still an achievement. It needs work and effort. Creativity, and most of all, being yourself. Knowing how to express that honestly.”
“That is all rather impressive,” Sarah confided, slowly nodding. She was amazed by the woman she wished was her mother. The Street Rat knew Amara wished Sarah was her daughter. “You’re so amazing, Amara.”
“All thanks to the Light,” Amara said, pulling herself back in humility, probably more out of habit than any other reason. “It can change all, it can save all.”
“Oh?” Sarah frowned, and the time had come. “You should have it stop those ghastly Beasts!”
“Beasts?” Amara didn’t know what Sarah was referring to or seemed not to know. That actually surprised Jamie.
“The… Beasts. The invaders? They showed up in the ea--”
“Oh, the dark ones,” Amara realized, and Jamie nodded in agreement. She had been so far inside Sarah’s mindset she had forgotten about the name for them there in the city. “Well, I suppose it will stop them, should they prove to be a real threat.”
“A real threat?” Sarah had to play it carefully, “when compared to the power of the Light?”
Amara gave a friendly scoff. “No, no threat is real before the Light, sweety. I meant a threat to us.”
Sarah shifted uncomfortably. “Bu…I’m unsure, but my father seems to be very worried. He says the whole court is.”
“Really? How so?” Amara asked, interested.
“Well, with how fast they’re spreading?” Sarah didn’t understand how the Lady of Light could be so unaware. “Papa says we will have to flee the country in a week if they are not stopped.”
Her look seemed grave all of a sudden. “Interesting. I…have not kept up with the succeedings. After all, it has only been a few days.”
“I see.” That was good news, of a sort. “Well, I do apologize if I sound dramatic, I simply wondered. If papa is a believer, will we be safe?”
“You require nothing of your father, my dear.” She patted her cheek, a bit too motherly, “all you require is yourself. Now run along, I’m certain Rachel misses you sorely already.”
“Oh, already?” That wasn’t ideal. “I was hoping we could spend more time together.”
“We will, my little lady. If you leave before we get a chance to talk some more, I will be very cross!” Amara poked Sarah on her nose, “but I really need to talk to my husband.”
Jamie had to put the greatest of efforts not to grin like crazy, or like…like the Circus Freak.
Amara seemed easy, but that was only due to the Street Rat’s considerable skills. Only due to Jamie’s delivery of all the gestures, the subconscious nods, the control over body language down to the parts most human beings couldn’t control. It all made Amara believe in Sarah. An eye twitch, a pause for thought, an inconsistent or forced emotion, a rise in heartbeat, sweating, not blushing when she should, or not tearing up when she should. The littlest detail would be picked up and cause suspicion, but there was none to tell.
The Street Rat was flawless.
Amara led Sarah back inside by the hand while in truth, Jamie was the one leading her by the hand. That really defined the Street Rat better than any other moment.
No one, in recorded history, had been able to so thoroughly swindle a fellow Scavenger. Let alone the Holy Lady.
Jamie spent most of the night having fun with Rachel, two girl friends in the midst of a huge ballroom, experiencing it all together. Jamie’s perspective on the attention she was paid was now different, due to Amara’s explanation, but regardless of how beautiful Sarah felt, she still couldn’t wait to get back into her usual attire.
Amara was talking to her husband on and off, in-between entertaining other guests. She was seemingly getting more and more irritated, and he more and more upset.
That had been Jamie’s angle, to play on Amara’s standing as a church leader. Her followers being killed outright by “the dark ones” would be very bad for her business, so she needed them protected and saved. But apparently, the Chancellor was adamant to stay his course of neutrality and assured doom.
The Street Rat was not surprised when the Holy Lady took to the stage.
There was no stage, not in the sense that there was no actual podium from which to speak from. The whole ballroom was a very large room surrounded by different minibars and passageways to all the different balconies to each side, but of course, there was the wide and magnificent staircase leading up to the Chancellor’s room, where the couple would stay the night after the ball. The very same Amara had des
cended from upon her appearance.
The Holy Lady simply climbed that halfway, and then knocked on the wood of the rails. She had, at all times, at least a sliver of everyone’s attention, so getting it fully was no hard task for her.
“Ladies and Gentleman, thank you again for attending this party. Even as we find ourselves amidst international unrest, it is heartwarming to see you all here, demonstrating the faith we have that the Light will prevail.”
Amara bowed her head solemnly in a pause for effect, leading most of the room to question what she was referring to.
The Street Rat noticed the Chancellor was seething. No matter how good one may be at playing a role, there are certain behaviors a spouse will always see through. He knew his wife was about to start a war without his consent, and should everyone find it a good idea, he would have no choice but to follow through with it.
“We must remember, however, how the Light is in us. And works through us. It is through our dedication to further its intents, beautiful and good as they are, that things get done. The Dark Ones have risen from the dark recesses of their underground world, where there is no light. We, however, are the children of Light. We, on the surface, have bathed under its blessing for eons, and will continue to do so. No matter what, Light will prevail…” Amara gestured, pointing and staring at everyone’s heart, which was an impressive feat to do in two seconds and all but a vague motion. “But with…or without us? How do we expect to get rewards in this life, or the next, if we fail to act? If we prove irrelevant, unhelpful, maybe even a burden, in its effort to rid our great world from the darkness that besets it?”
Most of the watchers nodded in assent, some already feeling guilty about not being on the front lines themselves. Her charisma was uncanny, and that was without the aid of religious belief in her wisdom and words, but she had that too.
“We will face the Dark Ones, my friends. We must. For they are darkness, and we are bid to shed our light on the world. We are bid to stop them.”
A round of applause surged. In her excitement, with tiny tears leaking out of her small eyes, Sarah had started it.
She caught sight of Rachel’s aunt, glancing sideways at the Chancellor with a smug look on her face. Meanwhile, the old man was on the surrendering side of scorn.
The Street Rat had accomplished it. Now, Jamie just had to enjoy the rest of the ball, and then return to the Shadow Conclave victorious.
The noise of conversation started seeping in, which made what happened next seem very unwelcome and anti-climatic.
An extremely loud and abrupt gunshot stole the evening away.
Sarah followed the crowd’s gaze towards a man holding a revolver, and then followed the mass of stares up the steps, to find a very shocked Holy Lady, eyes turned down to confirm how red liquid seemed to be soaking into her beautiful dress.
Amara looked very surprised. “Wha?”
The Street Rat snapped out of the shock sooner than most, in reaction to a glass shattering on the floor somewhere in the vicinity. Jamie pushed through a few people, her movement setting off a chain reaction of awakening.
Some screamed, others flat out tackled the shooter to the ground.
“ASSASSIN!”
Curses and profanity flew out into the air as people went off the handles, shocked either by anger or fear into panicked action.
“CLEAR THE WAY!” The Chancellor’s voice boomed, surprisingly loud, “CLEAR THE WAY FOR THE HEALER!”
The chaos was impressive. People who never really have to face crisis really lose it when they’re forced to. The Street Rat caught someone running back out from the balcony, knowing they had tried to escape through there because they weren’t even in enough control of their senses to know which door could be used as an exit.
Jamie was legitimately worried about Amara. Not only had she been somewhat of a role model, once upon a time, and the greatest challenge for the Street Rat, but if she died, that would most likely cement Neyerk’s neutrality.
Chancellor Cronenberg was frantically pushing people aside so that a robed individual could get to Amara, but Sarah got there before.
“AMARA!”
She cried her heart out in worry, all while the back of her mind examined her wound. Amara opened pained eyes.
“Augh…this is…ow…”
“Oh, please don’t leave us on our own, we need your guidance.” Sarah pleaded, crying. “I need you!”
Amara coughed, already looking pale.
“She won’t leave anyone, Sarah.” A hand grabbed her shoulder and, not without some measure of gentleness, pushed her aside.
The robed figure ducked over the body of Amara and felt her wound, and then around her back. “The bullet is still there, I need it out,” he said.
“Well then get it out!” The Chancellor demanded.
“I can’t do that,” the now obvious mage complained, “I’m not a doctor.”
The Chancellor barked. “I thought you were better than a doctor!”
“For illnesses, I--”
“Fine, get out of the way,” the Chancellor again demanded, pushing him aside. “Damn you, Amara, you know very well you still have years of frustration and manipulation to plague me with.”
The Holy Lady chuckled in response, most likely oblivious to the fact he was getting his sword out. Jamie had always assumed the weapon was just for show, and maybe it was, but he still used it. The Holy Lady moaned in pain and failed in her attempt not to scream as the Chancellor did his best with it.
What came next didn’t come easily to the Street Rat. In fact, she was confident nobody in the world even knew it could be pulled off.
Sarah fainted.
* * *
The Street Rat woke up with a start.
“Crap!”
Sarah looked around and saw no one. The room around her was expensive and heavily furnished, so it had to be part of the Chancellor’s rooms. That meant he had decided to take care of her, which was what the Street Rat expected to happen when she made the decision to faint. So now she had a way to both learn how Amara was going, but most importantly, to try and make sure he followed through with the commitment to fight the Beasts.
Honestly, Jamie was angry because that decision had been much too impulsive. It hadn’t taken into consideration the other priorities.
I really get too wrapped up in the part, sometimes. Damn it.
Jamie pulled the covers off of her, feeling the need to flee most of all. A lot of time might have gone past, enough for people to assume she had failed, and that would be very bad for her reputation. When she lifted her leg to kick the door open, though, she froze with it half-way up.
Jamie noticed her clothes had been changed. She was wearing some kind of night clothes, which were a bit too thin for comfort and way too lacking in leg-wear. Her top extended down to her knees in an attempt to hide the obvious fact she only had panties on. Jamie cursed in her mind and checked herself.
Chest, butt and genitals, nothing was sore or smelled odd. Pulse felt natural. Breath was normal, too.
Okay, yeah, Jamie thought, a bit relieved but no less upset at herself. This’s another reason never to pass out like a stupid idiot.
She landed eyes on a closet. Jamie opened it and found clothes inside. Why they had clothes her size was another matter -- no less suspicious -- but never look a gift horse in the mouth, went the saying. Whatever it meant.
Jamie pulled the flimsy nightdress off of her and gratefully put on a pair of shorts and shirt that, albeit a bit baggy, were more comfortable and reassuring. Afraid she wouldn’t be recognized, though, she checked herself in the mirror really quick. She noticed she needed her hair to be styled like before. In frustration, Jamie opened the cabinet beneath the mirror, and searched for hair things.
She soon found them, and got to work. Freakin’ can’t even get outta the room’thout a lifetime o’ freakin’ maintenance. Jamie thought, annoyed, all while attempting to comb her hair back into place. C’mon, you
little…
If there were a certainty she’d be even slightly recognizable, she wouldn’t bother, but she couldn’t leave the room looking like the Street Rat and acting like Jamie. Sarah had to leave the room, and not faint again like a little--
A knock came from the door. Jamie looked back in confusion, why would they knock if I’m unconscious?
“Lady Sarah? Are you awake?” They asked, and it sounded like they were hired help.
“Who’s that?” Sarah sounded scared, like she was still in bed and pulling the covers protectively. “Where am I?”
In truth, she was very near biting off a particular patch of locks which were being severely uncooperative. Jamie heard the door open at about the same moment a part of her mind alerted her to the fact she actually recognized the voice.
Jordan looked handsome in the dinner servant outfit he was wearing. He was tall enough to look like a credible apprentice to someone, she assumed that’s what he was doing.
“Whoah,” he reacted, his eyes too honest for her liking.
“What’re you doin’ here?” She asked, facing away to focus on the mirror. Jamie grabbed a pair of scissors in pure frustration.
“Checking up on you. We were worried, what’s going on?”
Checking up on Jamie? Had Andy sold Sarah out to Jordan? That was annoying.
With a snip, she killed off the uncooperative strands of hair. “You’ll ruin everything, get outta here.”
“That doesn’t sound like a Sarah…but you do look like a Sarah,” Jordan said, in what passed for a flirting tone of voice.
Jamie frowned in anger and slammed the scissors on the table.
Then she whipped her glare at him. “You want to hear Sarah? Is that it? You want your pretty little noble girl?”
“Uhhh.” His eyes opened, intimidated. He had realized his mistake, “no, I didn’t mean it like tha--”
“HELP! SOMEONE!” He balked at how loud Sarah screamed. “SOME STRANGER IS HERE!! WHERE AM I?”