The Diminished

by Kaitlyn Sage Patterson

  Gerlene would tend to the running of my estates until I returned. She’d provided me with a handful of drott, a small sack of ovstri and a larger pouch of tvilling. It was as much money as she could gather quickly without raising eyebrows, though it didn’t seem like much to me. She also gave me letters that would allow me to withdraw funds from the bank in the town closest to the land my mother owned. I would travel under the guise of an assessor, hired by Gerlene to check on my mother’s holdings in Ilor.

  Lost in my thoughts and unaccustomed to answering to the name I’d assumed, I didn’t hear the steward call me at first. “Mister Abernathy,” he repeated. “Your room is down this hall to the right.”

  He unlocked the door and handed me the key before showing me in. The room was quite small, its furnishings outdated, but it was well equipped enough to serve. The steward gave me a map of the ship. He pointed out the first-class decks, dining halls, exercise room and parlors, as well as other amenities, such as a swimming pool and cards room. Then he said, “If you’ll give me your tag, sir, I’ll bring up your other bags.”

  I blinked at him for a moment, not understanding. When he gestured to my rucksack and the valise Gerlene had given me, it dawned on me that most of the other passengers would have a great deal of luggage being loaded from the wharf, and the tag he mentioned must be a way of organizing those bags. “Oh, eh, this is all I’ve brought, actually... What was your name?”

  The young man’s face split in an incredulous grin. “Schaffer, sir. Would you like me to send up the tailor? He’ll have you a whole new wardrobe by the time we see land again, he will. But you’ve got to get to him quick-like. The other gents always have him booked up after their first night winning at the tables.”

  I pressed a gold drott into his palm. “Yes, thank you, Schaffer. That would be lovely.” Considering for a moment, I gave him another. “There’ll be two more when we dock if you’ll bring my meals up to me.”

  Schaffer gave me a firm pat on the back. “They aren’t so superstitious in the Ilor colonies,” he said. “You’ll do fine.”

  It was an odd statement, and I wondered what he was insinuating, but thought better of asking. “Thank you, Schaffer. Will you bring up a pot of kaffe when you’ve got the time? After you see the tailor, please.”

  Schaffer left with a bobbing bow and eased the door closed behind him. I’d no sense of what these kinds of clothes would cost me, but it would be worthwhile to leave the ship with a wardrobe appropriate to the climate and fashion in Ilor. The last thing I wanted was to stand out.

  I ran my hands through my hair and thought of my sister. I wondered if she looked like me, like Ina. I couldn’t think of her as my mother, no matter how I tried, but I wanted to know everything about Vi—what she liked and didn’t, what sorts of things made her laugh, what frightened her. I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to make up for the circumstances of her childhood.

  I spent much of the two-week journey pacing the ship and trying to distract myself from the guilt and grief that washed over me in waves. I hated myself for the anger that had kept me from saying a final farewell to Claes, who was surely gone by now. Every corner I turned reminded me of him. He’d so loved the enormous sunships and had always talked of our traveling to Denor or Ilor together one day. In some moments, I wished desperately that he could’ve been here, leaning over the railing and watching the dolphins with me, but in the blink of an eye, I went right back to hating him for going to the Suzerain with my secrets. I wondered if he knew that his betrayal could end with my death as well as my sister’s, or if he’d only been thinking of the dictates of the temple and the lessons we’d been taught about the superiority of the singleborn.

  The tailor came to deliver my new wardrobe and collect his payment late one afternoon. I counted the money into his palm, silently cursing myself; for when it was done, the whole endeavor had drained most of my reserve. Sniggering silently in the corner, Schaffer did his best—and failed—to hide his mirth.

  “Spent a bit more than you expected, sir?” He grinned at me. “What if after the tea’s all delivered, I come back and show you up to the library. Gentlemen like you love to read, and all them books are just gathering dust as it is. No one ever goes up in there, except to clean. Even has its own deck, the library does. You can take the sea air and get your head off this ship for a bit. It’s restlessness and boredom from being too far from your twin. Turns your mind all crooked, sir. Can’t be without that other hand what to stay your own.” Schaffer clapped a hand over his mouth. “Forgive me, sir,” he said. “I let my mind run off with tongue. I meant no offense, really.”

  I laughed, finally realizing that he’d thought that I was one of the diminished all along. “It’s fine, Schaffer. In fact, I’m on my way to my twin as we speak.”

  Schaffer heaved a sigh. “That’s good to hear, sir. Truly it is. Terrible thing to be apart though, ain’t it? That’s what happened to you, then. Can’t make a right decision with my Selah too far off. She keeps me even. I took a job without her once, when she was growing a babe, and I spent my whole pay on a bottle of bubbly for a girl over in Williford. Didn’t even think on it ’til she downed the last sip. That’s when I realized I’d have naught to eat for the week we was ashore before our return trip. Why’d you let him go, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “She’d business to attend, and I couldn’t get away.” I gave him a long, appraising look. Perhaps he was right. Maybe the impulsive decisions I’d been making since my birthday and my mother’s death could be attributed to Vi’s departure. The timing was certainly right. I said casually, “I’ve never heard that before. Were you irrationally peevish, as well?”

  “You mean was I touchy and quick to use my fists? Aye! I was, now that I think on it. Most folk don’t ever leave their twins, so they don’t talk much on it.”

  I turned that over in my mind. He was right. No one in the Alskad Empire ever went more than a hundred or so leagues from their twin, and even that was rare. Odd. Very odd. “I think I would like to see that library, Schaffer,” I said. “Will you show me the way?”

  * * *

  When we landed in Cape Hillate, Schaffer pointed me in the direction of an inn he called “not at all awful for the price” and said they’d be able to direct me to a livery. Heaving the strap of my newly acquired valise onto my shoulder, I took a deep breath and set off down the gangplank. As soon as I stepped off the ship, a wall of heat, like that from a potter’s kiln, hit me. I gasped, filling my lungs not with crisp sea air, but with a substance that felt more liquid than gaseous. I wanted to take off my jacket, to roll up my sleeves, but I couldn’t. Not without revealing the telltale gold cuff on my arm.

  The docks swirled with activity. Women and men in loose trousers and sleeveless shirts hefted ropes as thick as my forearms and carried crates off ships. Fisherwomen flung insults back and forth as they hawked their wares. Other folk ambled through the crowd in loose linen suits and long, flowing dresses, their expressions insouciant and paces distinctly unhurried.

  I marveled at the colors as I made my slow way off the docks. The ocean water was turquoise and clear in a way I’d never expected. The trees were rich with enormous leaves in every shade of green. Flowers erupted from the rich, dark earth. At the edge of the water, sailors crowded outside taverns, their faces slicked with sweat and eyes blurred with alcohol.

  “Look, ladies, that pretty Alskad orchid’s crumpling up and dying, and him not even having touched Ilor’s soil yet.”

  My face burned with blushes. Nervous sweat trickled between my shoulder blades.

  “Watch out, gents. This one’s gone so red, he might catch fire any minute.”

  I cringed and did my best to brush past them, back straight, but my breath caught in my throat and my legs went weak. “How does anyone survive in this heat, much less choose to settle here?” I muttered to myself.

&nb
sp; “You get used to it, bully,” a deep voice said from beside me as a big hand clapped me on the back.

  “Excuse me? What did you call me?” I glanced at the man as I spoke. He was just my height, but where I was slim, he bore broad, muscular shoulders and arms like a blacksmith’s. His green eyes twinkled with laughter, bright against his tanned, freckled skin. His sun-bleached hair was tied back in a tail that drew attention to his square jaw. He was beautiful. Not like Claes, with his perfectly arranged black hair and high cheekbones, but a livelier, less polished beauty.

  I pushed Claes out of my head and did my best not to gape into this young man’s gorgeous green eyes.

  “Bully,” he repeated. “It means friend.”

  A brawny man, whose sharp nose and beady eyes made him look like a bird of prey, strode up to us and shoved my newfound companion. He stumbled backward a step.

  “What’d you do that for?” the beautiful young man asked, pouting.

  “You know why,” the hawkish man snarled. “Get out your purse, Swinton.”

  I took a step back—I had no desire whatsoever to find myself in the middle of a dock brawl. Another step backward bounced me off an iron wall of a person, who’d evidently come to watch the impending fight with several of his largest friends.

  “Watch yourself,” he snapped.

  “Pardon me.” I hefted my valise and tried to make my way through the crowd.

  “Not so fast,” the hawkish man called, reaching for my valise. He threw a sly look at the handsome young man he’d called Swinton. “What do you say I just take this one off your hands, and instead of breaking your knees, I’ll give you a week to pay up.”

  Something tickled my nose, and I rubbed it, irritated. “I don’t even know this person. I really must be going—”

  But before I could finish, one of the onlookers shoved me between the two young men.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Swinton said. “I’ll come on by and talk this through with your pretty sister. I’m sure she and I can settle this between us. We all know you don’t have a head for figures.” He turned to me with a grin. “Come along, bully. We’ll be on our way.” Swinton moved behind me, but the hawk-like man stepped toward us and grabbed for Swinton over my shoulder.

  Suddenly, unable to contain it for another minute, I sneezed, and my head hit something, hard. Pain flared across my forehead as I fumbled for my handkerchief, and laughter rose around me like a swelling wave. Looking up, I saw that our harasser was sprawled out on the planks of the dock, his nose streaming blood.

  Swinton took my arm and pulled me through the crowd as it dispersed, grinning and nodding at everyone who caught his eye. When we finally broke free and made our way off the dockside boulevard, I was short of breath and sweating profusely.

  Swinton patted me on the back and gave me a broad, white grin. “Thanks for getting me out of that one, bully. And to think, I was about to lift your wallet.”

  “You were about to what?” I asked, aghast, rubbing the tender spot on my forehead.

  “Don’t look so put out. You’re an easy mark. Not that I’d let anything like that happen to you now. You saved my skin back there.”

  He offered me his hand, which I shook, warily. I said, “I’ll be going, then.”

  “I can’t let you go off by yourself in a city like Cape Hillate, not with you a newcomer, and me owing you a debt. Let me take you to an inn, at least.”

  His trousers were bright orange linen, slightly rumpled—though what else could one expect from linen in this heat?—and faded along the seams from regular ironing. His creamy cotton shirt was unbuttoned past his clavicle. Rather than proper shoes, he wore leather sandals. Disreputable as he looked, though, Swinton made a good point; I didn’t want to be robbed of my last few coins. I fumbled my valise from left to right hand and pulled a scrap of paper from my waistcoat pocket. “I’m looking for an inn called the Traveling Bluesman. Do you know it, Mister...?”

  “Just Swinton. How’s about I walk you over there, and you can tell me what brings you to Ilor.”

  I told him the story I’d concocted with Gerlene, the true bits—that I was looking for a young woman about my age, with dark, curly hair and a Penby accent. I said she was a by-blow of my father’s, a dimmy, who’d come to serve a labor sentence with the temple. And then came the lies—that I’d come because our father had remembered her in his will, and my employer had given me leave to bring my sister her inheritance, so long as I checked on my employer’s estates in the meantime.

  The papers, bank drafts and letters of introduction Gerlene had provided for me backed this story, and—in a less than amusing twist of fate—my meager stock of remaining coin made it even more plausible. Swinton made agreeable noises and nodded as he steered me through the crowded, sweltering streets of Cape Hillate. I finished my story as we stopped in front of a two-story building, its wooden shingles gone gray from years of exposure to the salty ocean air. A sign, black script on white, swung over the door: The Gilded Vole.

  “This isn’t the Traveling Bluesman,” I said dumbly.

  Swinton opened the front door and waved for me to go first. “I couldn’t take you to a hole like that in good conscience. It’s full of rats, and the beds are more bugs than feathers. My auntie runs this place. She’ll take good care of you.”

  “I don’t know. I appreciate the thought, but my valet recommended the Traveling Bluesman. I’m certain he wouldn’t lead me astray.”

  “And I’m sure he takes a cut from the Bluesman for every rich fool who pays for a dirty room and a bad meal. You seem like a nice young fellow. Let me do you a favor.”

  I searched Swinton’s twinkling green eyes for a sign that he might be less than sincere. Finding none, I took a deep breath and walked through the door he held open.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  VI

  I clutched Quill’s arm in a white-knuckled grip that was sure to leave bruises as we walked together into the parlor. The nonsensical babble of birds wafted in on the breeze as we entered the room. Aside from myself, Quill and Hamlin, there were two women and two men, all dressed in light fabrics cut in elegant, unfamiliar styles. The women wore elaborate hats with wide straw brims. Both men wore shirts cut long over their hips and closely tailored linen trousers. One of the women wore a blue striped dress similar to mine, while the other sported loose cotton trousers and a sleeveless blouse made from thin Samirian silk.

  Hamlin stood by the hearth, a sweating silver cup clutched in one big hand. His bright grin glowed in the dark of his skin. He elbowed the portly man next to him. I took all my prospective employers in one by one, assessing, calculating. Quill laced his arm through mine and leaned down, reminding me to smile under his breath.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great honor to introduce to you Miss Obedience Violette Abernathy. Vi is a sixteen-year-old from the capital of our empire. Each of you are here because you’ve expressed interest in hiring one of the diminished in the past, and now we, the Whippleston Exchange Firm, would like to offer you that opportunity for the first time in the history of Ilor. Vi has been among those unfortunates some call dimmys for near on sixteen years, and in that time, she’s shown nothing but good judgment and piety. Vi’s contract will last for ten years, and the bids for her salary will start at two hundred and fifty drott per year.”

  I felt my eyes widen slightly and shot a quick glance at Quill. He’d said that they’d make a fortune off my contract, but I had no idea it would be that much. Quill’s face remained pleasant and welcoming as he said, “Please avail yourselves of the refreshments we’ve provided and take some time to interview Vi. She is a lovely young woman with a number of interesting, erhm, talents that would be an advantage to any household in Ilor.”

  Quill pried my fingers away from his arm and gave me a little shove into the center of the room. I bobbed a slight bow to cover my stumble and g
lared back at him, but he was already moving toward the door. The men and women hoping to bid on my contract surrounded me like flies to a piece of half-rotted fruit. I twitched, but Quill had warned me about this; I needed to bear it as politely as I could.

  A middle-aged lady with a round face and tiny hands lifted a curl off my neck and peered at my skin. Mehitabel. She was the godly one. I simpered at her, playing the part she expected of me.

  “She’s quite pale. That milky, freckled skin they have in Northern Alskad. She’ll burn like Gadrian himself, Phineas. You won’t be able to take her out riding, and we all know how much you and Aphra enjoy your horses. Best leave her to me.”

  Ice shot up my spine, despite the heavy heat in the air, and I turned to look at him, plastering the friendliest smile I could manage on my face. Phineas circled me, appraising my swimmer’s build and long muscles. He was a big man, with a thick barrel of a chest and arms as wide around as my legs. His glossy brown hair was laced with gray, and he had creamy skin tinged gold from the sun.

  “You’re wrong, Mehitabel. She’s pale, but tough. She’d do fine on my estate, riding and all. Do you like the outdoors, child?”

  “Very much, sir,” I said, smiling.

  The portly man—he must’ve been Luccan—patted me on the waist, looking through me as though I weren’t even there. “A little full in the hips for my taste, perhaps.”

  I seethed.

  “Too bad about the nose,” red-faced Constance said, taking a crystal flute from a passing servant’s tray. “If it hadn’t been broken, she might be nearly pretty.”