The Diminished

by Kaitlyn Sage Patterson

  I gulped, unable to hide my shock. That would eat up nearly all my money, leaving me nothing at all. “And what to buy a horse?”

  “I’ve a hardy little mare I’m willing to part with for two ovstri, but you’ll never get anywhere without a guide, you not knowing the countryside and all. Swinton, dear, fetch me something stronger while I think.”

  Swinton rose and disappeared through a slatted door at the back of the room. I fidgeted nervously while Kelladra fanned herself with a yellow silk fan that matched the trim on her dress. She was a handsome woman, and she bore more than a passing resemblance to her nephew. They shared an air of cunning mirth that was both charming and worrisome. Swinton reappeared a moment later with a tall glass of startlingly orange liquid, which he handed to his aunt before resuming his seat.

  Kelladra and I soon came to an agreement—one that left me with only a few small coins jingling in my pocket. Swinton would help me learn what I could in Cape Hillate, and he would serve as my guide in Ilor—for a fee. I would pay half the cost of the horse and guide services when we left, and half when Swinton and I parted ways. I headed upstairs to stow my bags in my room and bathed rather hurriedly in the slat-walled outdoor shower. Once I was dressed, I went back downstairs to meet Swinton for a late supper and some reconnaissance.

  I found him waiting for me in the common room, flirting with a young woman with dark brown skin whose head was shaved bald. Her eyelids were painted gold to match the embroidery on her sleeveless dress.

  “All set?” Swinton asked, springing to his feet. He kissed the girl on both cheeks and whispered something in her ear that made her eyes crinkle delightedly at the corners.

  My stomach lurched. The disappointment that coiled through me when I saw Swinton flirt with the young lady unsettled me, but I certainly didn’t want him to know that. It didn’t seem right, even given his betrayal, to be so attracted to someone else so soon after Claes. Swinton’s charms only brought my imagination to life, though, and I couldn’t help but consider how it would feel to kiss him.

  I forced the thought from my head, and said in what I desperately hoped was an unconcerned voice, “I am if you are, but I don’t mean to take you away from something important.”

  “Aw, Lalia will wait for me, but if she’s otherwise engaged when we get back, I can see her sister, Alzabetta, right?”

  Lalia slugged him hard on the arm and said, “We ain’t interchangeable, you scoundrel. Get gone, and don’t you come crawling back to me later.” But her grin belied her tone, and Swinton returned it, winking at me.

  He blew her a kiss as he steered me out onto the street. The onset of darkness had done only a little to lift the damp heat, and sweat glazed my temples even as we walked. The tree-lined streets buzzed with the rasping shrieks of seven-year beetles.

  “I thought we’d head to a little tavern I know. It’s a shade nicer than the dockside hells, and the cook sets a damn fine table.”

  We passed a group of women lounging on a porch. One sang an aching ballad in a sweet, low voice. The others picked out a tune on twangy stringed instruments and kept time on a steel drum. Swinton tossed a drott onto the porch, and the women smiled at him, but kept playing.

  When the music had faded behind us, I asked, “Why not go to a hell? Wouldn’t we have more luck finding information about someone just arrived and headed for a temple in a place where sailors drink? She’d be fairly distinctive, wouldn’t you think? A dimmy traveling alone?”

  Swinton laughed, stopping in the middle of the street to pound his knees and gasp for breath.

  “It isn’t that funny,” I said, irritated.

  “Not funny?” Swinton hooted. “Not funny! Little lord, you might be nothing but a low-rent clerk, as you claim, but you walk and talk like you piss streams of gold. I’d put good money on that valet of yours setting you up to get robbed blind, and if I take you to a hell, there’s no hope of us making it a step—much less all the way home—with our purses intact. At least in midtown, folks will take your money honestly while they pretend to believe your lies.”

  I gritted my teeth and silently thanked the gods for the darkness that hid my reddened face, saying nothing. What could I say, when he was so obviously right?

  “You’re right about one thing, though,” he said. “If your dimmy landed anywhere on this coast, we’ll hear about it. Not every day a captain’ll agree to take a dimmy on board.”

  Swinton led me through a maze of alleys that eventually emptied into a square. Tangles of moss hung from the branches of the stunted, gnarled trees that edged the center green. A statue of the first Queen of Alskad loomed in the middle, her shape familiar even in the darkness, and dim lamps lit the signs that hung over the squat buildings’ doorways. The air felt close and thick with humidity and stank of meat smoke.

  Swinton darted up a set of unswept stairs and eased a door open, gesturing for me to enter. There were twice as many women as men in the tavern, and most bore the weathered, leathery skin of the maritime life. Many of the patrons’ arms were tattooed from shoulder to knuckles, beautiful and terrifying pieces that made me want to stare. One woman turned from her seat to gesture at a serving lad; I gasped when I saw the lines of blue ink snaking up her neck and across her face. I’d never seen tattoos on someone who wasn’t one of the Shriven. Swinton elbowed me in the ribs.

  “Don’t be a fool. Stop gawking and find us somewhere to sit. I’ll get drinks.”

  I nodded, and he slid toward the bar. I edged around the room, trying to ignore the low whistles directed at me as I passed through the crowd.

  “You can come sit on my lap, sweetheart,” a rasping voice called out behind me.

  I bit my lip and scanned the room for an empty table, pretending not to hear the woman. I spotted one littered with glasses, but the stools around it were empty. I darted through the crowd, anxious to sit somewhere, anywhere, out of the way.

  A hand reached out and squeezed my bottom. I yelped and whirled around to face a table of women. All in their middle age, their faces were tanned, skin tones ranging from light fawn to dark russet brown. Their eyes were ringed in dark makeup, and dozens of silver rings marched up each of their ears. The woman closest to me sported another silver ring in her nostril. She grinned at me, her teeth dazzlingly white, and patted the stool next to her.

  “Come have a sit, pretty. Let Baya buy you a pint.”

  I channeled the Queen and looked down the full length of my nose at her, saying, “I’ll thank you not to touch me again, madam.”

  A muscular arm wound round my waist, and my stomach rose to my throat.

  “Sorry, bully. He’s with me.” Swinton kissed me on the cheek, and shivers raced down my spine. I absolutely shouldn’t be excited by kisses from this rapscallion, not after I’d seen him cozying up with someone else not an hour before, especially not with the memory of Claes still looming over me—and most of all, not when he was in my employ. But a part of me couldn’t help it. Something about Swinton set my heart racing.

  “What say we buy you all a round to drown your sorrows? Sit down, sugar.”

  I glanced at him, confused, but he pushed me onto an open stool and snatched another for himself. When the barman arrived with our drinks, he ordered more for the table. While Swinton made easy conversation with the sailors about the tides and trade prices, I kept my mouth shut and watched. Swinton had a way with people. He seemed to slide seamlessly into the conversation, and within minutes, the rough sailors acted as though they’d known him their whole lives. They trusted him, and I found that I did, too. Whatever he was up to, he had a good reason.

  Eventually, the conversation turned to the temples, and I saw an opportunity to ask about my sister.

  “I wonder if—”

  Swinton cut me off, giving me a sharp look and shaking his head just once. “Let’s have another. What do you say?”

  Several ho
urs and a half dozen of my small coins later, Swinton was deep in conversation with the women. I’d stopped listening some time earlier. Instead, I watched the people in the tavern flow in and out like the tide and considered the plethora of human faces. The great variety of wealth and cleanliness alone was something to gawk at, but even more interesting was the range of styles and fashion. Unlike in Alskad, it seemed that no one style dominated in Ilor, and everyone simply dressed however they wanted. There were people in trousers and dresses, in leather and lace and linen, dyed in raucous colors and patterns. There were people with hair in every imaginable shade from gray to white, gold to black. The woman behind the bar had hair dyed indigo. It was her I was watching when Swinton dug his elbow into my ribs.

  I turned my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

  “I said that you had heard the rumors about a captain bringing a dimmy across the Tethys, but you didn’t believe a word of it. D’you remember the captain’s name?” Swinton gave Baya a disarming smile.

  I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and tried to play along. “Don’t waste their time, Swinton. No one is idiot enough to confine themselves aboard a ship with a dimmy. Certainly not long enough to cross the Tethys.”

  Swinton had cautioned me about betraying any interest in Vi herself—that would only cause trouble. If we could find the captain, we could find Vi.

  Baya picked at her teeth with a bone from the pile in front of her and spat on the floor. “Believe it, love. Whippleston’s his name. He sails between Penby and Williford. He’s navy, but he’s in shipping, not military. There’re rumors about him—all kinds of things, but I do know he moves goods for the navy and books passengers, too. Does a nice trade in wine and exports, and his nephews do some recruiting of contract workers. Man’s got to be richer than Rayleane. Heard he brought a dimmy across not long ago. I think his nephews arranged for her contract in Williford. Made quite the profit off his cut alone, or so I’m told.”

  “He must have nerves of steel,” Swinton said.

  “Or a death wish,” one of the other women added.

  “He’s one of the only men to make captain in Her Majesty’s navy. He’s a lot of things, but he ain’t cracked,” said Baya. “I sailed with him when I was a lass. Man’ll do damn near anything if it’ll give him two extra coins to rub together. Brave as spit, he is. I wouldn’t bring a dimmy over, not for any kind of money.”

  “Why would anyone want to give a dimmy a contract?” I asked, baffled. A part of me hoped it was true. The farther she was from the eye of the temple and the Shriven, the better off she’d be. “Most people back in Penby can’t get far enough away from them.”

  “You ain’t been in Ilor long, have you, son?” Baya asked.

  I shook my head.

  “It’s still half-lawless here. The temples don’t have the kind of power they have in the rest of the empire. There ain’t more than two dozen of the Shriven in the whole of Ilor. Some folks with strange predilections and bizarre ideas come to settle here for just that reason. Rich folks get off on proving to each other who’s got more guts by collecting that what scares them and showing off to their pals. After what happened before, well...folks need contract workers for labor, and they’ve found a market for the more...exotic, as well.”

  I started to ask what she meant, but Swinton interrupted me. “Isn’t that the truth? Speaking of, we’ve a long day tomorrow, and I’m eager to get this one home, if you know what I mean.” He gave the women an exaggerated wink, which sent them into howls of laughter and me into a deep red blush.

  We made our way outside, and when we were away from the dim glow of the square, Swinton clapped me on the back.

  “Williford,” he said. “I’d put good money on your sister being there, or close by. I don’t know Captain Whippleston himself, but I know his nephews. Better, I know where they like to drink. Not too bad for a night’s work, is it?”

  “How far is it to Williford from here?”

  “From here? A couple of days by ship, less than a week by horse.” He reached out and rapped on a porch’s wooden railing. “So long as we don’t run into a herd of aurochs or a band of thieves, it shouldn’t be a hard ride.”

  “What that woman said back there...” I trailed off, hesitating. “About what happened before. What did she mean?”

  Swinton swung an arm around my shoulders, sending shivers up my spine. “It’s old news. Nothing to worry your pretty head about, little lord. I’ll tell you as we ride, if you’d like.”

  I thought of Lalia, the beautiful girl Swinton’d been kissing in his aunt’s common room. “You don’t mind being gone so long? I don’t want to pull you away from your sweetheart.”

  “You can’t mean Lalia? She’s not my sweetheart, just a friend. We have a bit of a flirt sometimes, but it isn’t serious. I’m a free man, and my tastes vary widely.” Swinton laughed and gave me a wink that threatened to melt me. “I’ll go with you, bully, and happy to. You’ve got secrets I plan to learn, and it wouldn’t hurt for me to get away from the folks under the impression I owe them money. Plus, can’t pass up an opportunity to help out a fellow dimmy, can I?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  VI

  I slid off Beetle’s back in the stable yard of Plumleen Hall, so sore and exhausted I could hardly walk straight. Phineas—he’d told me to call him by his given name—had explained during our ride what he’d meant about my contract being a surprise for his wife. Her birthday was less than two weeks away, and until then, I would be hidden away and receive training from the butler and other staff. He’d been more than clear that I was not, under any circumstances, to be seen by his wife, lest I ruin her gift. I wondered if Mal and Quill had been pulling my leg, or if the woman really was an amalgam. I certainly wasn’t going to ask Phineas.

  I wanted him to like me, but I also desperately wanted him to stop talking. He’d hardly shut his mouth since we left the Whipplestons’, and the more he talked, the more my nerves knotted with anticipation. I was so close to seeing Sawny and Lily.

  Somewhere in the jungle, about halfway through our ride to Plumleen, I’d realized that, for the first time in my life, I had almost everything that I wanted. Up until that moment, all my energy had been focused on convincing the Whipplestons to help negotiate my contract and making certain that it was Phineas who won it. I hadn’t given much thought to what would come next, what I would do when I was finally happy.

  “Lucky for you,” Phineas said, interrupting my thoughts, “our master of horse has recently been let go, and I’ve not had time to replace her, so her apartments are empty.”

  He clapped me on the back, a little too hard, and steered me toward a door that led off the barn’s main hallway. A passel of dogs in all sizes and colors yipped at his feet, but he hardly noticed them.

  “It isn’t lavish,” he continued, “but you won’t have to share with anyone while you get used to the way things are run here at Plumleen. Of course, after the party, you’ll move into the manor house, so Aphra can have access to you at all times.”

  Access, I thought, my stomach sinking. I hadn’t dared hope for any kind of privacy once I started my work, but that word slammed into me. Though the grounds and barn had hardly registered in my mind’s eye until now, his words jolted me out of my daze, and I finally began to take in the details of my new space.

  The rooms Phineas showed me were almost enough to make me forget my aching body and nerves. Almost. A wooden door opened off the barn’s main hallway into a tiny mudroom equipped with hooks for jackets and shelves for shoes. We removed our dusty boots, and Phineas showed me into what he called the great room. It was as big as my whole cabin onboard the Lucrecia and boasted a wide sandstone hearth. The room was sparsely furnished with old-fashioned, though well-maintained pieces—a couch, an armchair, a bookcase with shelves that sagged from the weight of too many books, a table with four mismat
ched chairs.

  Phineas gestured to the door by the hearth. “Through there is the bedroom and washroom. There’s hot water for bathing, so long as the boiler’s not gone out again. Get some rest, and I’ll see that one of the kitchen lads brings you a bite. Tomorrow Hepsy and Myrna will start your lessons.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I said. “This is all very generous.”

  “The rules here at Plumleen Hall are simple, Vi, and if you follow them, you’ll do well. Many of our servants have chosen to stay on past their initial contracts. First, you must never leave the property unless my wife or I give you permission. Second, you must never refuse a direct order from a member of my family or the managerial staff. And, most importantly, you are expressly forbidden to speak about my wife’s condition. Not to her. Not to me. Not to any of the other servants. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, though my mind seethed with questions. What kind of orders were these folks giving that following them had to be laid out so plainly? And why was Phineas so concerned about his wife’s so-called condition becoming a topic of conversation? I wondered if Mal had been right, and the lady of Plumleen was an amalgam.

  Just then, one of the stable hands brought my bags into the apartment. Phineas introduced her as Myrna, and she smiled at me. I returned the smile, grateful that at least one of the people who would be training me seemed friendly. Phineas wished us a pleasant night before gliding out of the room.

  Myrna looked to be no more than five or six years older than me. While she might’ve been as pale as I was had she lived in Alskad, the sun had turned her skin nut-brown and bleached her hair to nearly white. It hung in a long, pale gold braid over one shoulder, and her wide smile took over her whole face—even her eyebrows crinkled.

  “You look like you could fall asleep standing up,” Myrna said kindly. “You get yourself into bed. I’ll wake you come morning. If you need anything, our rooms are over yours. Stairs are around the corner by the hay. Can’t miss ’em. Sleep well.”