Indigo Rain

by Watts Martin

  Gregir grinned, and stood up. “I must get to the general store before it closes. I shall see you later?”

  “I’ll be here, somewhere.”

  She watched him walk off, then smiled demurely at Tylee. “It was nice meeting you. Will you excuse me?”

  He nodded, smiling back uncertainly. “Sure.”

  Before he said anything else, she stood up, picking up her own half-empty plate and silverware, and walked over to Lisha’s table.

  The vixen looked up sharply, her expression almost as wary as Tylee’s.

  “You don’t mind company, do you?” Roulette said.

  Lisha’s ears came forward, although her expression remained guarded. “No.” She waved at the seat across from her.

  “So are you from Achoren?” As she spoke, Roulette tried to guess Lisha’s age. About thirty, if that? Not quite. Older than the raccoon, but not by as much as she tried to project.

  “No. I’ve lived here five years. I grew up in Raneadhros.”

  Roulette’s ears perked. “Really? That’s where I want to live. I grew up in Orinthe.”

  “Raneadhros is closer to Orinthe than Achoren is. How’d you end up here?”

  She didn’t feel like telling the story again. “Not so good luck. You?”

  “I was with the Ranean Guard. They usually keep officers in the areas they know. But they wanted to move non-human officers into Achoren, and asked for volunteers. So I went.”

  “A kind of…of outreach program, then?”

  “That was the idea. It just wasn’t a good one.” The vixen’s expression softened into something more contemplative as she looked past Roulette, eyes unfocused. “The first thing you learn as a Guard member is that it isn’t a royal guard, that you’re not a soldier. The drill was ‘not in service to the law, but in service to the community within the law.’ In Raneadhros that worked.” She refocused on Roulette. “But when I came here, I was always the other. You can’t win the trust of people who treat you like that.”

  “That’s just a few people, though. And older people, ones who don’t want to change. I mean, I haven’t been treated badly,” Roulette said, then looked down. “Other than last night, I mean.”

  “Bullshit.” Lisha’s tone was—for her—gentle, but the raccoon’s ears still went back. “You’re stuck in a boarding house in Furville. You know that’s what they call that part of town, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but it’s a nice enough place for now. There weren’t any vacancies at the places closer to the city center I asked at.”

  “That’s what the landlords told you,” Lisha said softly. “And you don’t have a bank account because they asked for an extra security deposit, since you were from out of town? You didn’t have enough credit?” She abruptly leaned forward, pinching Roulette’s arm fur between two fingers. “Or because you have this?”

  The raccoon jerked her arm away. She was starting to see why people didn’t like to eat with Lisha. “Is that why you left the Guard?”

  “I was released a year ago.”

  Roulette hesitated, unsure whether to ask the obvious next question.

  “Sometimes people get—a little bold verbally with the Guard when they realize we’re supposed to be polite and formal all the time. Someone pushed me too far and I decked him.”

  “Oh. But being let go just for one fight seems harsh.”

  “It wasn’t the first,” the vixen said curtly.

  “Oh,” Roulette repeated. She couldn’t think of anything else to say, so ate more of her chicken in silence.

  At length Lisha spoke again. “So do you want to move to Raneadhros to dance there? On the stage?”

  “Oh, no. I love dancing, but it’s not a career. I want to find a husband there.”

  Lisha looked disappointed for a moment, then shook her head. “You’re—you dance beautifully.”

  “Thank you.” Roulette smiled. “But I just don’t think I can count on it, and I’ll probably never make much more money at it than I do now. I could have stayed home, but Orinthe doesn’t really have landed gentry. Achoren does, but as you pointed out, I have fur.”

  “So your life plan is to marry someone rich.”

  Roulette felt her cheeks growing warm. “No. No. I want to marry someone I’m in love with.”

  “You just hope he’ll be rich.”

  “Yes. I mean…” She set down her fork and crossed her arms. “I guess you didn’t grow up with that dream.”

  “The dream of being a kept woman? No, I guess I didn’t.”

  Roulette’s ears folded back.

  Lisha softened her expression. “It’s not that I don’t want to live comfortably, or that I don’t want a partner. But in my childhood dreams I never wanted to be the princess waiting to be rescued. I wanted to be the one doing the rescuing.”

  Roulette laughed after a moment. “You terrorized the boys in your school, didn’t you?”

  “It was great,” Lisha said solemnly, then—for the first time Roulette had seen—smiled broadly. In an instant she transformed from handsome in a severe way to why didn’t I notice you were beautiful.

  “So.” The raccoon blinked rapidly, hoping her unexpected blush hadn’t visibly reached her ears. “You’re not married, either?”

  If the vixen noticed Roulette’s flush, she gave no sign. “There was someone back in Raneadhros, once, but when I applied for the transfer to Achoren, we broke things off. And here…” She shook her head once. “I don’t know. Maybe some people are meant to be single.”

  Roulette shifted in her seat, whiskers flicking. “I’m sure you’ll find someone. You’re smart, tough and very pretty.”

  “Not like you,” Lisha said, smiling again and shaking her head. “I should go see if I can dig up anything more on what Grayson had planned. His being in town to bring bottles of herani to Massey just a couple days before an opposition rally is not a coincidence. Have you written down anything about last night?”

  “No.”

  “Do it tonight, then, before the memory fades. I know that you don’t think it will, but it will. Try to picture the room—describe it like you’re standing in the center and turning slowly. And think about all the smells. All the sounds, too.”

  Roulette nodded. “I will.”

  Lisha stood up, picking up her empty plate, then hesitated. After several seconds, she said, “Thank you for coming over to talk with me.”

  The raccoon smiled up. “You’re welcome. I enjoyed it.”

  Lisha hesitated again a moment, then strode off.

  Roulette leaned back and ran a hand through her hair, then grinned a small grin to herself. If the vixen would just let herself smile more often, she’d be married within a month.

  The next morning Roulette didn’t feel like she’d ever quite made it to sleep. When she closed her eyes she saw Mr. Blue’s face—sometimes the way it looked just before he attacked her, sometimes the way it looked just after she’d attacked him. More than once she’d settled into the start of sleep, only to snap her eyes open at nightmares whose images quickly faded to a murky sense of omnipresent danger.

  Judging by the light—and the calls of the birds in the rafters—she’d woken up just after sunrise. She made her way to the cafeteria to see what their breakfast would be like.

  Only three other people were there. The two she didn’t recognize looked like they must be clients, not staff; the other one, surprisingly, was Lisha, sitting alone in the corner with no food but a cup of coffee. “Good morning,” Roulette called.

  Lisha’s ears perked up and she gave Roulette a smile—smaller than the bright one last night, still pretty but almost timid. “Good morning.”

  The raccoon came over, but didn’t sit down. “I didn’t think I’d see you here now. You don’t sleep here, do you?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I wanted to get an early start on planning work for the rally tomorrow. I’m in charge of security.”

  Roulette grinned. “That doesn’t surprise me. I’
ll go get some food and—”

  “Do not get food here,” Gregir called from across the room. Both women turned. “Get food here.” Gregir held up a large brown bag with a few small grease flecks on the bottom. It smelled like—

  “Doughnuts?” Roulette asked, laughing. “Your breakfast is doughnuts?”

  “And your breakfast is doughnuts. Plenty to share.”

  She laughed again, and pulled out one of the chairs at Lisha’s table. “Come join us.”

  Both Lisha and Gregir flicked their ears, glancing at one another. The wolf sat down, though, as did the raccoon.

  “These aren’t a very nutritious breakfast,” Roulette said.

  “Nonsense.” He tilted the bag on its side and ripped it open to expose all the pastries. “This one is plain, this one has nuts, this one has cream filling, this one has berries. Very nutritious.”

  “Thank you,” Roulette said with a grin. She took one of the cream-filled ones, biting into it carefully. Lisha leaned forward and took one of the fruit doughnuts.

  “You are welcome, Roulette,” he replied, tail wagging once.

  Lisha’s ears flicked, and she ate her doughnut in silence.

  Roulette cleared her throat. “Are you doing something for the rally tomorrow?” she asked the wolf.

  “I have put up signs, handed out flyers,” he said. “I have spoken with other groups. We are supposed to ‘excite’ people about the referendum.”

  “Which is working,” Lisha cut in. “The most recent polling has it being defeated.”

  “Narrowly,” Gregir grunted, and ate nearly all of a chocolate doughnut in one bite. “And the other side is excited, too.”

  Roulette nodded as she listened, and finished off her doughnut, licking her fingers clean of bits of whipped cream. Then she paused, tongue tip against finger pad, as she realized both vixen and wolf were watching. Just as quickly, both Gregir and Lisha looked away.

  She cleared her throat, standing up. “I should go—do that recording. Of my impressions from yesterday.”

  Lisha nodded, standing up, too. “You should, yes. Just bring me the notebook when you’re finished. I’ll be in the meeting room closest to the reception area.”

  Gregir said to Roulette, “I’ll be ready for our—work—in about an hour, if that is a good time, yes?”

  “Yes,” she said with another nod. “That’d be fine.” She grabbed another donut as she headed out.

  “This is not as bad a place as I was expecting it to be,” Gregir said as he and Lisha walked up the steps of the boarding house.

  “I told you it was a nice place.”

  “You say everything is nice, so I did not take that seriously.”

  She laughed, shaking her head, and led him up the stairs. “It’s just down the hall.” She reached into her pocket for the key, then froze as she approached the door. It had been pulled to, but wasn’t completely shut.

  Gregir stepped in front of her, motioning for her to stay behind him, and gently pushed the door open. Roulette couldn’t see past him, but she saw his ears fold back.

  “What?” she hissed, squeezing between him and the door frame.

  The sheets had been pulled off the bed and left in a pile on the floor, the mattress overturned. And her beloved trunk had been hammered open—

  “Oh, no.” Roulette leapt to the trunk, throwing aside the clothes in a frenzy. But she’d known it wouldn’t be there even before she looked. To a thief she would have nothing else of value. “Oh, no…”

  “What is missing?”

  “Everything,” she whispered, rocking backward and wrapping her arms about herself tightly. Her eyes ached as if tears were about to come, but they didn’t, beyond her vision blurring for a moment. She’d cried too much over the last day. Now there was just a ragged hole.

  Gregir patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Let us ask the owner if he saw anyone come up, yes? We can—”

  “She,” she mumbled. “Mrs. Vliades.” She didn’t move, but she didn’t resist as Gregir lifted her up to her feet and walked with her back to the stairs.

  Roulette stared at the door to Mrs. Vliades’ room numbly, until Gregir knocked on it for her. Shortly the L’rovri woman came to the door, seeing Gregir first. “May I help—Alizabel? Goodness, dear, what’s wrong?”

  She took a ragged breath. “Did…did anyone come here looking for me, Mrs. Vliades?”

  The wolf woman’s ears lowered. “A young human man was here yesterday, right when I was clearing the table after dinner, asking about ‘a raccoon dancer.’ I didn’t know whether you were in or not, but since he didn’t seem to know you I didn’t give him your room number.”

  “Did he talk to anyone else?” Gregir rumbled.

  “I’m afraid I can’t tell you. I was here in my room this afternoon, but I didn’t hear anything and no one else came to me.”

  “You should get better door locks, yes? And you need a new one for room eleven now.”

  Mrs. Vliades frowned, and shuffled out of her office, heading up the stairs.

  Roulette stayed in the hallway, looking at the floor. “It was all my money, Gregir. All of it. Over fourteen hundred vars.” She laughed bitterly. “Now I really need the Aid Society, don’t I?”

  He squeezed her hand between both of his gently for a moment. “You are safe, and that is most important. It means you can work to get more.”

  “I should have kept trying to get it into a bank,” she muttered miserably. “Lisha said they make it hard here just because I’m not human, but I should have kept trying.”

  “You cannot fix the past, yes? And…ah…” He trailed off. “I am afraid you should not have invoked her name. It has summoned her.”

  “What?—” The raccoon’s ears folded back even before she turned to see Lisha descending on her like a thunderbolt.

  “I told you not to leave under any circumstances,” Lisha snarled. “And you come back to the only place they’d know to look for you?”

  “Were you following me? Again?” Roulette said, incredulous.

  “Not until I couldn’t find you, or him, and had a suspicion.” She jabbed a finger at the wolf. “And you should have known better!”

  He crossed his arms and glowered. “I am helping a friend. If you had any you would understand.”

  Lisha’s volume rose with her temper. “You realize they likely have this place staked out, don’t you? You’re just lucky there was no one waiting for you in there.”

  Suddenly Roulette wasn’t afraid or miserable. She was furious. “Lucky?” She shoved Lisha against the hallway wall, perversely gratified by the shocked look it earned her. “I’m lucky someone dragged me out of that room without letting me get my strongbox. I’m lucky that whoever robbed me didn’t do it until last night, so it turned out there wasn’t a rush after all. I’m lucky that thanks to you, I only have ten vars to my name!”

  Lisha’s eyes had grown steadily wider through this tirade, her ears creeping backward. “I was looking out for you!”

  “I’ve been looking out for myself since I was nineteen! I know how to look out for myself!”

  The vixen had recovered enough to start looking angry again herself, teeth slightly bared. “If that was true, you wouldn’t be here now.”

  “Mother of devils, Lisha.” She gave the vixen another shove. “Massey was looking for me at the Society yesterday, not here.”

  “What?” The vixen looked shocked again. “You didn’t tell me—”

  “It wasn’t important to me. I’m not the one on the crusade! Instead of worrying about your damn ‘Brothers,’ tell me what I do now. You have an answer for that?”

  Lisha looked down at her with a wounded expression that just made Roulette even angrier. She stomped toward the street.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Back to the homeless shelter. It looks like I’ll be there a while, doesn’t it?”

  “Dammit, Roulette!”

  She set her ears back and hurried
out, heading in the opposite direction of the Society and walking as quickly as she could. She heard Lisha and Gregir rush out behind her, heard Lisha start to call her name, heard Gregir say something softly reproving to the vixen. She didn’t look back.

  Roulette had made it to the square she’d danced in nearly every day before she slowed down. As the adrenaline and anger subsided, she stumbled, suddenly exhausted. She let herself drop to a street-side bench, then slumped forward, head in her hands.

  When she’d moved to Norinton from Bergin Valley she’d hardly been rich, but she had enough to secure the room for a month and pay for meals. She’d exaggerated her new poverty to Lisha, but not by much—she had seventeen vars and change left. Her tiny, wretched, beloved room at Mrs. Vliades’ place had cost ninety per week.

  She’d have to start over—but where? How? She couldn’t just find another corner in Achoren and begin dancing again. Even if Lisha’s conspiracy theories were wrong, she’d still committed a crime. A horrific assault, very likely a murder. Yes, it had been self-defense, but could she prove it? Was the Guard looking for her even now?

  And what if Lisha wasn’t wrong?

  Pull yourself together. You can’t just sit here sniffling.

  Wiping her eyes, she steadied her breathing and sat up.

  The sun remained high overhead, just visibly on its post-noon descent. Today, like tomorrow, was a day off for most businesses—as independent-minded from Ranea as Achoren was, they’d embraced the five-on, two-off work calendar wholeheartedly. The square was entirely empty; she wondered if anyone would bother to show up for the rally tomorrow. She wondered if she would bother to show up.

  She could hear a horse-drawn carriage approaching slowly on another street. The hoof beats reminded her of an old mantelpiece clock back at her parents’ home in Orinthe, a marvel of brass gears, something in it making a solid clunk twice a second. Time was ticking past.

  On even a coldly practical level, leaving Gregir and Lisha behind at the boarding house had been foolish—she still should have gotten the wolf to help her carry the damn trunk back to the Aid Society. She wasn’t staying at the boarding house anymore, after all. She hoped Mrs. Vliades wasn’t going to charge her for the broken lock.