The Diminished

by Kaitlyn Sage Patterson

  I thanked her, and she gave me a rakish grin before leaving me alone in my new home. As the door closed behind her, I resolved to ask her to help me find Sawny and Lily as soon as I could manage it.

  * * *

  Myrna hauled me out of bed when the sun was still a distant promise of lavender streaking up the horizon. I felt like I hadn’t yet been asleep for more than a minute—despite my aching weariness after the ride from Williford, trying to sleep in the unfamiliar bed had been like trying to climb an ice-slicked roof. Every time I was close to sleep, I’d startled myself right back to wakefulness, excitement about seeing Sawny and Lily pulsing through my veins with every heartbeat.

  I pulled on the trousers, boots and shirt I’d worn the day before and darted into the apartment’s main room, where Myrna was waiting for me with a giant glass of cold, milky tea and a thick slice of ham tucked inside a soft white bun. She shoved the sandwich into my hand and started toward the door, already talking at breakneck speed.

  “Phineas said you’re to learn to ride, but that you’ve not had any practice at all—which, frankly, doesn’t seem at all possible to me, but I left Alskad when I was still a brat, so what do I know?”

  I gulped down the tea and followed Myrna into the barn, sleep-addled and barely tasting the sandwich as I chewed.

  “You’re going to be getting quite the education in all things Plumleen these next few weeks, so say a prayer or whatever works for you, because you shouldn’t expect to sleep much. Every morning you’ll help me feed the horses and muck stalls, and I’ll give you a riding lesson. From there, you’ll go to my horrible twin, Hepsy. She’s the butler, and she’ll be boring you to death with lessons in household protocol. You’ll serve the evening meal for the staff, then the same thing all over again. Aphra’s birthday’s in less than a month, so you’ll be running yourself near to death between now and then. Are you ready?”

  She thrust a pitchfork into my hand, not waiting for an answer. If I was to serve the evening meal to the staff, that would be my chance to find Sawny and Lily. I couldn’t wait to see the look on Lily’s face when I passed her grub to her.

  “Because I’m the most wonderful friend a girl could have, I’ve already fed the horses and put them out to graze. All we have to do now is muck stalls. Have you ever...” She trailed off, shaking her head in answer to her own question. “Of course not. You can’t ride, stands to reason you can’t muck a stall, either. I’ll show you.”

  Three backbreaking hours later, I’d hefted and tossed and wheelbarrowed, calling on muscles I didn’t even know I had. And all that before I’d even climbed onto Beetle’s back. I’d gone through my whole life believing I was strong, hauling oysters and diving for the temple, but nothing could’ve gotten my body ready for this kind of work.

  The riding lesson was another hour of Myrna shouting at me to keep my heels down, my toes pointed in and to flow with the horse, whatever that meant. When it was finally all over, Beetle untacked and released into a field, I collapsed onto a hay bale in the barn hall, my legs gone to jelly, my stomach growling so loudly I was sure to spook the horses.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever walk again,” I moaned to Myrna.

  Laughing, she offered me a hand. I batted it away.

  “You’re going to have to. You’ve only got an hour to clean yourself up and grab a bite before you’re to meet Hepsy in her office.”

  I moaned. “I can’t do it. I can’t move. I accept the consequences of my fate. You can tell her I said so.”

  “I’m not telling my sister squat if I can help it, and I’m not going to let you lie there and get yourself in a world of trouble on your first day. Up you get.”

  Reluctantly, achingly, I accepted her hand and groaned to my feet. Myrna patted me on the back.

  “Better run. Hepsy doesn’t accept excuses, and she can’t stand lateness. You don’t want to find yourself on the sharp side of her tongue.”

  As I bathed—quickly, thanks to years of growing up with fifteen or more other brats sharing the same bathroom and not nearly enough hot water—I wondered why Myrna and her sister didn’t get along. It wasn’t that twins were always the best of friends, but I couldn’t see how anyone could manage not to get along with Myrna. She was one of the cheeriest, kindest people I’d ever met. She never even mentioned the fact that I’m a dimmy, Pru. She treated me like any other normal person.

  As I dashed out of the bathroom, tying a bit of string around the end of my wet braid, I saw that Myrna’d brought me lunch, bless her. There was a flatbread piled high with roasted squash and caramelized onion and strung through with bits of soft blue cheese. Rayleane’s cheeks, I could kiss the woman. I folded the flatbread in half and stuffed it into my mouth as I jogged toward the manor house. Following the directions Myrna had given me earlier that morning, I raced down the steps and into the basement servant’s entrance.

  Hepsy was waiting for me outside her office, arms crossed over her chest. She and Myrna were identical, or had been at one point. Where Myrna was tan, Hepsy was pale. Where Myrna’s hair was long, Hepsy’s was cropped just beneath her chin. Where Myrna was plump and muscular, her sister was rail-thin. The two women could not have been more different.

  Hepsy eyed me up and down disapprovingly. “You’re three minutes late, you have food smeared on your cheek and your hair is wet.”

  “Ma’am—” I started, but Hepsy cut me off.

  “We’ve no time to waste. I assume you, being diminished, know nothing about etiquette or how to behave in a properly run household?” She didn’t wait for me to answer. “No. Of course you don’t. Follow me. We’ll start with the basics.”

  For the next five hours, Hepsy lectured me on a thousand things—how to properly fold a napkin, open a bottle of wine, remove a plate unobtrusively from a dining table. And that was just to prepare me to serve the staff meal that evening. In those five hours, I didn’t utter a single word. There was no space for it. While Myrna was quite the talker, she, at least, was jovial about it. Hepsy seemed to be so irritated by the fact that she and I had to exist in the same room that she filled every moment with endless instruction, making no little effort to assure me that she wasn’t pleased in the least to be the one tasked with my education in etiquette.

  I could hardly contain my excitement as Hepsy led me into the kitchen. Surely, given his experience and training, Sawny would be peering into an oven or stirring together some sort of delectable sauce. The kitchen was not one room, but three, and as Hepsy nattered on, I studied every person who walked through the door, searching for Sawny’s familiar features.

  Steady me, Pru, I thought. I feel like I could explode.

  Hepsy turned to me, her voice sharper than any kitchen knife. “Are you listening?”

  “Of course,” I lied.

  “Let’s get you an apron, then. The Laroches won’t be pleased if their dinner’s delayed because ours runs long.”

  As the servants streamed into their dining room, I carried platters of crisp-skinned duck and charred ears of corn, huge bowls of salad and tureens of creamy, delicious-smelling soup to the pair of long tables, scanning the room for Sawny and Lily all the while. As the room filled and folks started eating and chatting, I was nearly shaking with anticipation. My friends were nowhere to be seen. As I circled the table, refilling the tall water glasses and replenishing the bottles of chilled makgee, I listened for their names.

  Perhaps Sawny and Lily were occupied in another part of the estate—maybe their work had kept them late. But surely someone would mention them. There were more than fifty people in the room: folks with dirt beneath their fingernails that hinted at their work in the kaffe groves or gardens; those dressed in kitchen whites or neat, dark household uniforms; a group clustered around Myrna who clearly worked with animals. But as they finished eating and drifted out of the room, my heart sank. No one had said a word about Sawny or Lily.
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  When Hepsy finally dismissed me, she said, “Tomorrow, tell my sister that you simply must arrive to your lesson on time. The least she could do is respect, for once, the importance of my work. And make sure your hair is dry. We’re going to begin your understanding of caring for Madame Laroche’s clothing, and it wouldn’t do for your dripping hair to spot her silks.”

  I trudged back to the barn, pausing inside my door for a moment to greet the puppies I’d found living in my apartments. The tumbling balls of golden fluff wagged their whole bodies as I scratched their ears. I fished in my pocket for the scrap of ham I’d secreted off a dinner plate as a bribe for the puppies’ mother and looked up to greet Myrna. My heart leapt when I saw that she was sitting on the steamer trunk Mal had given me.

  “You didn’t tell me you had a beau,” Myrna said, pouting. “And he’s deadly good-looking, too. What’s worse, you didn’t tell me you were flipping rich.”

  My eyes darted around the room, searching, I supposed, for Mal or Quill. I didn’t know which of the two I’d rather see, but I desperately hoped they’d waited. Myrna grinned.

  “He left before sundown. Said he had to get back to his business in Williford.”

  A weight settled in my stomach and disappointment must have clouded my face, because Myrna burst into gales of laughter.

  “Don’t look so downtrodden, pet. He left a note.”

  Myrna pulled an envelope from behind her back and waved it in front of me. I reached for it, but she hopped onto the trunk and held it over her head. The puppies yipped and cavorted around us, and their mother bayed a single long note before putting her head back on her paws.

  “No, ma’am,” she said. “This has to be an equal exchange. You tell me all about your handsome beau, and I get to go through your trunk. Then you can have your precious note.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her. “Come on! He left it for me, not you,” I said, her contagious laughter catching in my throat. “Nothing in there is worth a damn in this heat, anyway.”

  “I saw silks and velvets when your beau got the paper. I just want to know what kind of work you thought you’d be doing to need such fine things.”

  “They were a gift,” I said. “And he’s not my beau. Now give me the note. You can have anything you want out of the trunk. Really. It’s yours.”

  Sighing, Myrna handed me the envelope. “He certainly seemed like a beau, the way he asked after your happiness and health and all.”

  She hopped off the trunk and dove into its contents, flinging sweaters and trousers around the room gleefully. The puppies bayed and tottered around the room, soaking up as much excitement as each of their wiggly bodies could hold. I settled down on the floor next to their mother and opened the note.

  Vi,

  I waited as long as I could in hopes of seeing you, but I have to be back in Williford tomorrow. I’m sorry that I’ve had to leave without speaking to you. Keep your head up. I’ll see you soon.

  Cheers,

  M

  Nothing from Quill. I could have kicked myself for the shameless yearning that raced through me. My face was hot, and when I looked up, Myrna was watching me with a quizzical expression of amusement.

  “Not your beau?” Myrna asked, grinning.

  I threw a pillow at her. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Surely.”

  “Two of my friends from back in Penby, Sawny and Lily Taylor, took contracts here about a month ago, but neither of them were at dinner tonight. Do you know where I might be able to find them?”

  Myrna’s face paled, and she went still, her hands knotting in her lap.

  “What is it?” I asked, and I could hear the fear raw in my throat.

  “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your friends...” She stopped and cleared her throat. “From what I understand, Lily noticed an error in the estate’s account books. She was helping with the bookkeeping, see? And rather than telling Phineas, she brought it to Aphra. That sent Phineas spinning.”

  One of the puppies pawed at my knee, whining, and I pulled her into my lap, grateful for the sweet, soft warmth as my heart turned leaden and heavy in my chest. I couldn’t make sense of what she was telling me. “What do you mean, ‘spinning’?”

  “I was going to wait a beat to warn you. Phineas—” Myrna’s lips tightened, and she let out a long, slow breath. “Phineas is a monster. When he found out what Lily’d done, he hauled her out of the house by her hair and beat her bloody.”

  My jaw was clenched so tight I thought my teeth might shatter. “Where are they now?” I gritted.

  “Vi, I’m so sorry. Lily died that night, and Sawny the next day. They’re gone.”

  I sat there, the puppy wriggling in my lap, numb for a solid minute before I fell entirely to pieces. Tears flooded my cheeks, sobs wracked my throat, and Myrna held me as I cried until I could cry no more.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  BO

  Swinton and I traveled well together. On our first evening in the jungle, when a roar in the distance sent me shooting to my feet, panicked, he managed not to laugh.

  “It’s a wild dog, bully,” he yawned.

  “You say that as though it should make me feel better.”

  I couldn’t see anything past the dim ring of our fire’s light, but I heard the horses, hobbled in the clearing with us, stamping and snorting.

  “They don’t come down out of the mountains hardly at all, and they’re too afraid to get close to anyone with a fire. Don’t worry about it. Get some rest.”

  I sat, pulling my knees in close to my chest and staring into the fire. Nothing in my life had prepared me for this. I thought of Runa, of her endless lessons on the monarchy and behavior and the history of Alskad. All information that would surely be useful to me someday, but here, in the half-wild jungle of Ilor, none of it was helpful. None of it was at all relevant.

  Swinton cracked open one eye and looked at me across the fire. “What’s giving you trouble, bully?”

  “Nothing. I don’t mean to keep you awake. Go back to sleep.”

  Swinton pulled himself to a sitting position and stared me down, a hint of amusement tugging his lips up at the corners.

  “If you’re not sleeping, I’m not either. After all, you did hire me to keep you company on the way to Williford.”

  I fought the urge to scrub my hands through my curls. “I hired you to show me the way, not to act as my nanny.”

  Swinton tsked at me and waggled one finger back and forth admonishingly. “If you refuse to sleep, then I’ll need something to occupy my time. Entertain me, little lord.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Buh, buh, buh,” he said, grinning. “No negatives. Only positives. Tell me about yourself.”

  He dug into his saddlebags and pulled out a thin cotton sack of caramels wrapped in waxed paper. He offered the sack to me, and I took one, peeling off the paper and popping it into my mouth.

  “You go first,” I said through a mouthful of sticky caramel. The thought of how Mother would’ve reacted if I’d done the same at home flitted across my mind, scoring a thin line of pain through me, like stepping into salt water with a cracked heel. “What was it like growing up in Ilor?”

  Swinton’s easy laugh was like balm. “I’ve nothing to compare it to. What was it like to grow up in Alskad? What was it like to grow up rich?”

  I wanted to blame the heat in my face on the fire, but I knew—and Swinton knew—that he’d made me blush. I shrugged and threw my wrapper into the fire.

  “Have anything to drink over there?”

  Swinton pulled a bottle out of his bag and came to sit beside me on my bedroll. I wanted desperately to ask him about his casual admission that he was one of the diminished, but I couldn’t manage to find a way that didn’t feel horrifyingly rude.

  “So, little lo
rd. Tell me. What prompted you to travel all the way across the Tethys to meet this sister of yours? Generosity, or curiosity?”

  “Both?” I laughed. “Neither? It seems so odd that I could have a relative I’ve never met, especially a sister.”

  “And your twin?” Swinton asked. “What’s he got to say about this adventure of yours?”

  I panicked for a moment, realizing that the story I’d so carefully constructed with Gerlene hadn’t included my having a twin at all. But the memory of Gerlene fluttering around that awful room at the inn by the docks flashed through my mind, and I decided that she was as good a stand-in as anyone. “She’s a planner, and I sort of sprang the idea on her at the last minute. Let’s just say she wasn’t best pleased.”

  We talked until the moon set, plowing through the caramels and the bottle of fizzy fermented tea. Swinton was as captivating as he was surprising, and it was easier for me to talk to him than anyone else I knew. I felt like I could be myself with him—the real and honest part of me that I’d always kept shielded from my family, for fear of their disapproval.

  * * *

  My initial terror of traveling with one of the diminished wore away to nothing as we made our way to Williford. Swinton wasn’t someone I needed to fear. In fact, in his company, I felt as safe as I ever had in my life, wild dogs and other dangerous jungle beasts be damned. He made me laugh, really laugh, in a way I never had before. I was thrilled to be on an adventure with him. Swinton’s bright moods shone like the sun, and though a sour-tinged sadness curled in my belly when memories of Claes flashed through my mind, each time Swinton shot me a devilish grin or rested his hand on my thigh for a second too long, giddy currents of joy rolled up my spine.

  As we entered the crowded streets of Williford, leading our horses, I indulged in a brief fantasy about a hot bath and a comfortable, long night in my bed at home. The nights I’d spent curled on the rocky ground, listening to the strange symphony of jungle sounds and barely dozing, had left me ravenous for a solid night of decent sleep.

  Swinton nodded at a squat building set back from the street a ways. In the growing dimness, I couldn’t make out the words on the sign.