by Shay Savage
“I’ll kill him.” The words come out like a snarl as I reach down and touch the handles of my knives.
“No!” Ava claws at my arm, linking her fingers in mine. “Talen, no!” Her tone changes abruptly from demanding to pleading. “Don’t leave me! Please!”
The look in her eyes isn’t quite right. She’s frightened, yes, but not because she thinks he’s going to come back here and hurt her again. I get the idea she doesn’t want me going after him. She pulls on my arm, and I drop back down to my knees beside her.
“All right,” I say softly. “I’m staying. It’s okay.”
I lie down beside her and cradle her in my arms as she cries. I’m tense—trying to keep my arms from shaking with the rage inside of me. I grip my hands into fists, crossing my wrists and holding Ava close to my chest.
When I close my eyes, I see the man outside the tent, the grin on his face, and I can’t believe I was so fucking stupid. He was right there in front of me, and I had no idea what he’d just done. He walked away from me with a smile.
I try to recall everything she told me about him yesterday, but all I really know is that he lives and works across the river. In the past, he has come to her on Fridays, when the plastic workers are paid, but he came a day early. He probably didn’t even have any money to pay her.
Tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow he will have coin, and he’ll be looking to spend it somewhere. It’s unlikely that he’d be brazen enough to come back here, but there are predictable places on the other side of the river where a man like him would go on a Friday night.
I will find him, and I will remove that smile forever.
After some time, Ava quiets her cries and asks me to make her some of her special tea. I find a small clay teapot and a cup, both made from volcanic ash. The dishes are smooth and properly fired, and I wonder where she found them, but I don’t ask. She sips the tea slowly, probably not even registering the taste. She stares at the floor for a while before she finally speaks.
“Why are you back so soon, anyway?” She glances up at me and then back to the floor.
“I’d rather not say.” I shake my head. “It’s all rather embarrassing.”
“Must be a good story, then.” Ava sniffs and clears her throat. “Tell it to me. I need something else to think about.”
I don’t really want to talk about my evening, but Ava looks at me pleadingly. I consider making up some tall tale just to amuse her but ultimately decide to give in and tell her the truth.
“Well, I was out looking for things,” I say, “and I found someone else doing the same thing.”
“Another thief?”
“Hush, you,” I say with a wink. “I’m the head of lost and found.”
“Whatever.”
“Anyway, this woman was in Hilltop, and I followed her into a house. I made her put everything back, but she got away from me and ran off.”
“How did she manage to get away?”
“Uh…” I stop. I don’t really know what to say. The last thing I feel like doing is telling her all about the woman who eluded me and tossed me off a wall.
“Talen?” Ava sets her cup on a shelf and stares at me. “Don’t you hold out on me!”
I look back at her and sigh. Despite the bruises and black eye, she looks more like herself as she stares me down, demanding answers. Maybe hearing about my bad luck would make her forget her own.
I recount the entire tale, from being unable to track the spy, to finding the rope, to being punched in the face, and finally to falling along with the cut rope.
Ava bites her lip and narrows her eyes as she listens. When I get to the end, she sits up a little straighter, pauses for a moment, and then bursts into laughter.
“Really?” I glare at her, trying not to crack a smile myself. “You’re just going to laugh at me? I was hoping for a little sympathy.”
“I’m trying to picture your face when she cut the rope. It had to have been priceless!”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say with a tight-lipped smile. “It was hilarious.”
“I just didn’t realize you were fallible.” She laughs until she grimaces and holds the side of her face for a moment. “Ouch.”
“I failed you tonight, too.”
“Not your fault,” Ava says. “He wasn’t supposed to be here tonight.”
“I’m still sorry I wasn’t here.”
“I can handle myself,” she mumbles.
I raise an eyebrow at her, but she won’t look at me. I consider reminding her that she asked me to stick around, but it felt like rubbing salt into a wound, so I say nothing.
Ava finishes her tea, and we both lie down in the bed. She turns toward me and wraps her arm around my waist, and I hold her close. Lying down is good for my aching back and jaw, but I’m not the slightest bit tired. Apparently, Ava isn’t either.
“Punched you right off your feet, huh?” She shakes her head slowly.
“Yeah. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I know the feeling.”
I hug her a little tighter as the burning sensation in my stomach takes hold again. I consider slipping out when she falls asleep, but I don’t want her to wake up and find me gone.
“How bad do I look?” she asks.
“You’re fine,” I mumble.
“Don’t lie to me.” Ava sits back up and prods the side of her face with two fingers. “My eye is black, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“And my face?”
“A bit bruised.”
“I won’t be able to work.” She lies back down and huffs through her nose. “No one wants a beat up harlot. I can’t make money like this.”
“It’s not so bad,” I tell her. “Maybe consider a little vacation time? You should heal up in a few days.”
“I’ll lose a lot of money.”
“I can help you.”
“I don’t want a handout.”
“Who said anything about a handout?” I roll to my side to look at her. I reach out and carefully take her chin in my hand, making sure I don’t brush against a bruise. “You were going to let me stay here a couple of days, right? I can help cover your rent. That’s not a handout; that’s a valid money-trade.”
I stare her down, daring her to argue with my logic.
“Fine,” she finally mutters, “but you aren’t paying the whole rent. I’ll figure out a daily rate.”
I smile. I’m not so much as pleased with winning the challenge with Ava as I am with my next thought—where I’ll get the coins to pay her. I know exactly in whose pocket I’ll find them.
“Keller was hanging out down this way today,” Ava says, abruptly switching topics.
“Was he?” I say. “Did he haul his box along with him?”
“He did.” Ava snickers. “Hung out for an hour, screaming about conspiracies.”
“That is his favorite thing, isn’t it?” I frown at the thought of the man.
“You still avoid him, don’t you?”
“After the last time? Yes. Definitely.”
“No one believed what he was saying,” she says, trying to be reassuring.
“Some people never looked at me the same after that,” I say. “He put just enough doubt in their heads to make them not want to trade with me.”
“Anyone with an ounce of logical thought knew he didn’t make any sense,” she says insistently. “Why would you steal from Thaves—sorry, find things in their homes—if you were one of them?”
“Just ask Keller,” I say with a snort. “I do it to hide my identity. I’m not even finding things; they’re being given to me by the Thaves in charge. Don’t trade with me because the things I find for you have transmitters inside of them, sending your brainwaves back to the government or whatever. You probably swallowed the one that was shoved inside that apple.”
Ava laughs.
“That’s crazy,” she says.
“I know that.”
“People don’t believe him. Everyone knows you are one of us.”
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“I guess.”
We settle back against the bed, neither of us closing our eyes. Ava touches her cheek every now and then, wincing each time. I wonder if the doc has anything that could help her with the pain.
“Do you think any of what Keller says could be true?” she asks. “Not about you, of course, but the other stuff. Do you think the government, or whoever is running things in the east, could have rigged a volcano?”
“Not really.” I swallow hard and look away from her.
“What about the other stuff?” Ava asks. She sits up a little and looks at me. “The virus that killed so many in the valley—could that have been intentional? Some people still get sick.”
“I have no idea.” I let out a sigh. “You’re thinking about Layshell’s brother, aren’t you?”
“Yes. He almost died, and the doc said he will probably always be weak.”
“How old is he?”
“Ten, I think.”
“You never know.” I hug her gently. “Kids are stronger than you think. He might be fine in the end.”
“Thank you for helping her,” Ava says, hugging me back. “I bought her baskets so she would have money for medicine, but she wouldn’t take any more from me when I offered it. I’m not sure if she is too proud or what, but it pissed me off. I’m glad she accepted your help.”
“Sounds like you are two peas in a pod,” I say. “Accepting help from a friend is difficult for everyone around here.”
“Not the same.”
“Exactly the same.”
Ava glares at me but doesn’t further the argument.
“I’ll check on her tomorrow,” I tell her. “She said she needed a couple of days to make me a sleeping mat. It gives me a good excuse to see how they are both doing.”
“Much appreciated.” She replaces her glare with softer eyes and a smile. “You’re one of the good guys.”
“Got you fooled.” I laugh.
“You are, Talen.” She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.
I shake my head but don’t correct her. If she had any idea of what I am capable of doing, she would throw me out in a heartbeat. Thankfully she doesn’t, and I still have a warm place to sleep tonight.
Tomorrow I might not have such a luxury. Tomorrow is going to be rough and bloody work. I’ll definitely need to get that mat from Layshell, assuming she’s done with it. I may need to stay out of the way for a day or two.
“You should try to get some sleep,” I tell her. “Rest is the best way to heal up.”
“I’ll try,” she says. She settles against me and closes her eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Any time you need me, I will be.” The words come easily enough but also remind me that I wasn’t here for her when I should have been.
I will make up for it tomorrow.
Chapter 5
“Jonny!” I wave my hand in the air until Jonny looks in my direction, and then I beckon him.
“How’s it going, Talen?” Jonny asks as he jogs over to me, axe in hand.
“Been better,” I say. “I need a favor.”
“Anything.”
“Can you stay here a while and watch over Ava? She’s hurt, and I don’t want her left alone. I shouldn’t be long.”
“Sure,” Jonny says. “She okay?”
“She will be.”
I leave Jonny at the front of Ava’s tent and head off into the woods. I have a few errands to run before I can track down Moustache Man, and I want to get them done quickly. I check to make sure no one is following me before I trek up the hill and find my stash of coins under a collection of rocks where I keep them buried and relatively safe.
The sack of coins is quite full and represents a fortune in the valley, and I’m careful to leave no tracks going to and from my secret cache. I could be living in a large structure on the other side of the river, have plenty of food and valuables, but I’ve made my choice. Most Naughts have never seen such a pile of money, and I have to keep it hidden in order to blend in.
It’s not like I could ever return home, and displaying my wealth would only lead to someone noticing me. I don’t want to risk that.
I take one more look around—just in case—and then reach farther back underneath the rocks to pull out a small leather bag. I sit with my legs crossed and carefully lay it across my thigh before I grab the two small vials Samuel the potter made for me. I uncork them and lay them side-by-side on my other thigh.
Inside the leather pouch is a small quantity of white, crystalized powder. Taking great care, I pour the contents of the pouch into each of the vials and then seal them tightly. Once I’m sure the corks are on securely and there’s no way they could spill, I reattach them to my belt and shove the empty leather pouch back in the hole.
I shove a handful of coins into a pouch on my belt and head down the hill back to Plastictown and to the western market. Past the merchants’ carts, I find Layshell’s home and announce myself.
“Hello there!” she says, greeting me warmly. “Your timing is perfect. I just finished your sleeping mat.”
Inside the cramped home, I see Layshell sitting in the middle of the floor with a stack of reeds, vines, and a bit of yarn. In the corner is a lump covered up by a large blanket. The lump moves slightly, and I can hear the sound of slow, regular breathing coming from underneath it.
Beneath Layshell is a grass mat, and she sits near a short table made of plastic bales. The bags of grain sit on top of the table, but there is no other furniture in the room. I take another step inside and crouch down in front of Layshell to get a better look at the mat.
“Fantastic!” I reach out and touch the mat Layshell has made.
It’s woven surprisingly tight—nearly waterproof—but is still flexible enough to roll up into a much smaller shape. She even included a strap at the top for carrying.
“I thought about making an additional layer on the top side,” she says, “so it would be more comfortable, but I know you wanted something compact. Comfort is going to add more bulk.”
“No, this is perfect,” I tell her. “Really, it is. I feel like I owe you more for it.”
“You don’t,” she says quickly. “I’m pretty sure I still owe you. I can’t thank you enough.”
“We are even.”
“I don’t think so. I could make you a good blanket to go with it or maybe a woven backpack of sorts? I can make just about anything.”
I point over to the lump in the back corner of the home.
“How is your brother?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Sleeping soundly,” she says. “He’s much better after getting good food into him. The grain will last a while, too. By the time it’s gone, he should have his strength back.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” I crouch down to roll the mat up and quickly slip two coins underneath Layshell’s stash of reeds. It will take her a while to find them, and she’ll have no idea how they got there. “Thank you again. I’m going to sleep better tonight!”