Priestess Awakened

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Priestess Awakened Page 11

by Foxglove, Lidiya


  When we got there, Forrest had just pounded on the doors for a second time. Great.

  “Maybe a subtle approach would be better?” I suggested.

  “This is the subtle approach,” Forrest said. “Next I’ll try picking the lock.”

  The heavy wooden double doors met at the top in an arch, and were braced across with strips of iron carved in delicate swirls, with twin knockers in the shape of monsters—or maybe dragons, actually. I suppose the doors might have been old enough that monsters didn’t exist yet. They started swinging open very slowly, and the man in a red frock coat looked out at us.

  “Ladies only,” he said. “The fee is five gilden.”

  “The fee for what?” Forrest asked.

  The man sniffed and started to shut the doors again.

  “Wait—wait!” I said, grabbing one of the knockers. “I have five gilden.” I actually didn’t. But hopefully one of the guys did. “Please let me in.”

  “You are not dressed anywhere near appropriately,” the man said. “This place is for people who know the nature of this establishment.”

  He started to shut the doors again, and Forrest shoved forward. He was ready to fight his way in. Without even flinching, the guy lifted a hand with a red ring on it and blasted Forrest with some kind of red energy beam. His body tumbled back down the stairs. The doors shut decisively.

  “Fucking son of a—” As Forrest was clamoring to his feet, grumbling a wide array of curses while brushing the remnants of cigarette butts off his clothes, Gilbert looked over the barred and boarded first floor windows.

  “What is this place?” I asked. It was obviously shady, but it wasn’t a brothel if men weren’t allowed in. “Is this…where women go to be high class whores for noblemen or something? I don’t know if I want to meet my guardian if this is his line of work.”

  “I think I know, now,” Gilbert said. “This is where women go to flee east to the free realms.”

  “To flee? Like, away from the monsters?”

  “Exactly,” Gilbert said. “It’s almost impossible to get a legal passport to leave the realm anymore. The emperor knows everyone would leave if they could. But, there are plenty of men in the eastern realms who will happily take a bride from here. I’m almost certain this is a matchmaking establishment. They would look at your beauty, your family history, and your dowry, and find you a match accordingly. Sometimes a husband, other times an employer. They keep you here until your ship arrives, ready to escape at a moment’s notice, and pay off the royal guard in exchange for leaving their establishment and its coaches alone.”

  “So you would leave your home forever, to be at the mercy of strangers in the east you don’t even know? I think I’d rather deal with the monsters.”

  “You might,” Gilbert said. “But if your situation is already bad and you feel trapped, you might do anything to escape.”

  “It’s really getting dark,” Rin said. “Sounds like we need to get Phoebe a nice dress and five gildens and come back tomorrow.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “We can’t send Phoebe alone,” Forrest said, as we settled in our hotel with three trays of meat hand pies. Capamere was too fancy for mere inns with a common room and bowls of soup. Capamere had hotels with lobbies and rugs and chandeliers, and you could buy delicious street food and eat it in your room. “Once she’s past the doors, we can’t get in. Anything might happen to her before she can even find the guardian. It’s too much of a risk to put her in peril. We can lose one of us, but we can’t lose her.”

  “I can handle it,” I said. “I don’t think they’re going to kill me.”

  “They could sell you,” Gilbert said, in an ominous tone. “Once you go into that building, you’re not supposed to come out again unless it’s to the ship that will carry you away.”

  “Exactly,” Forrest said. “And since you can’t fight—”

  “You still haven’t bought me that knife.”

  “Well, a knife won’t help you against magic rings and whatever the hell else. Gilbert, you’re pretty. And persuasive.” He scratched his stubble. “We could put that face to use, eh?”

  Rin laughed loudly.

  “Wait, what?”

  “Dress up and go with her,” Forrest said.

  Gilbert dropped his food. “I don’t look like a girl.”

  “I agree,” I said. “A pretty man isn’t the same as a girl.”

  “I think you’d be surprised what makeup and a dress could do,” Rin said. “And Forrest is right. Your bardic voice could convince anyone who started to doubt. There’s enough in place already.”

  “You just want to see me in a dress.”

  Rin threw up his hands. “Guilty as charged. Feeling confused turns me on.”

  Forrest sigh-growled. “It won’t take long. The sigil is on the guardian’s forehead. Phoebe just has to touch it. You know that once she does, he will understand immediately. Let’s just get it done.”

  *

  First, we had to get dressed up. I was tremendously excited to wear fashions again and not just homemade work clothes. I mean, if the guys liked me now, they were really going to be into it when I bought a pink gown with ruffles everywhere. And the shops in the capital were huge. I could spend a week if I wanted to see everything. My heart was beating faster just being in the midst of the lush surroundings, racks and racks of clothes, delicate floral wallpaper and perfume to match, and cute little shop girls dusting things that weren’t even dusty.

  “No no no no no,” Forrest said, as soon as he saw me reach for the hanger. “You’re dressing up to ostensibly present yourself as a bride, not a—” He flexed his fingers, apparently failing to think of a suitably biting comparison.

  “What do you know about fashion, anyway? Gilbert?”

  “No,” Gilbert said. “Forrest is right. That is Strawberry Girl meets ostrich. This blue one is nice.”

  “What’s an ostrich?” I asked.

  “It’s a bird—”

  “Oh, here we go with the menagerie again,” Forrest said. “And the blue…might be even worse than the pink.”

  “He doesn’t know anything about fashion,” Gilbert said, holding the dress up to me. It had a peplum skirt and a dramatic sequined collar that was just insane. In a good way. But then, the costume designer for the Strawberry Girls used to say “there is no such thing as insane in a bad way”.

  “I love it!”

  “Am I losing my vision?” Forrest asked. “What are you seeing that you would each head straight for the worst outfits in this entire store?”

  “It’s the capital. Go big or go home,” Gilbert said.

  “Back home, the ladies would wear something more like this…,” Rin said, looking at a silk cream-colored dress with loose, draped sleeves and a silver belt at the waist.

  “Much better,” Forrest said.

  I had to admit, it was both demure and sexy, showing a little cleavage, and the sleeves were slit at the shoulders to show a little skin there too, but otherwise it covered me up with sophisticated lines. I would never have noticed it among all the crazier options.

  “I could try it on…”

  I went in the fitting room and happily peeled off my traveling clothes, which had been impossible to properly wash while on the road, and put on the dress. Oh, yes. Unlike the Strawberry Girl dress I had grown out of, this one fit my curves like a glove. I remembered the magical feeling of a perfect outfit, but it had been too long.

  I came out of the fitting room to show off.

  “Now, that is an outfit befitting a wife,” Sir Forrest said.

  “She is much more than a wife,” Gilbert said. “She’s our priestess.”

  “I meant, to pose as a potential wife for the smuggler,” Forrest said, but I don’t think that was really what he meant at all.

  “It is perfect,” Rin said, and I told myself he was probably just missing his homeland, but I wasn’t sure of that either. Man, this is getting confusing.

  “W
e’ll take this one,” Forrest told the shopgirl.

  “I’ll wear it out,” I said.

  “No, no, put it away so it doesn’t get dirty,” Gilbert said.

  I was at least determined to keep it on as long as I could. I crossed my arms. “Now what about you?”

  “We’re not really going through with this, are we?”

  “Someone needs to protect Phoebe,” Forrest insisted.

  “I’ve already been thinking about it,” Rin said. “I think dark colors, a little cape to cover up your lack of cleavage…”

  I was a little skeptical that Gilbert could truly pass for a girl, but by the end of it all—damnit, he was kind of hot. He reminded me of the woman who used to choreograph our stage shows. She was tall and strong—she used to take fencing on the side of dance—but also really graceful and elegant, and a lot of the girls would get a little silly around her and then hotly deny that they had a crush on her. I never did, of course. I mean…probably.

  Anyway, Rin was kind of a genius at picking out clothes; I’m not even sure he knew. He made Gilbert look like a girl but a really badass one you wouldn’t want to mess with, and he managed to cover up his manlier attributes under strategic fitting and a tilted hat. I didn’t really see the full effect until the morning, when we got all dressed up to go back to the heavy double doors. We tried to do it right, hoping we wouldn’t even be recognized as the troublemakers from last night. Forrest and Rin staked out a street away, and Gilbert and I took a carriage in. We each had five gildens to get us through the doors.

  “This is the most humiliating thing I’ve ever done,” Gilbert muttered in his very not-female voice. But hopefully his magic would cover up that part. “I can’t believe this is how the third guardian is going to meet me.”

  “I’m sorry.” I was sitting next to him in the rattly carriage. “But you look lovely.”

  “Lovely? You look lovely. I feel like my androgynous nature is being exploited.”

  “It definitely is.” I rubbed his knee, which felt unexpectedly risqué when he was wearing stockings. “But I’m glad you’re here. If you hadn’t’ve been, I’d have to put Sir Forrest in a dress.” I snickered.

  “I have a feeling just giving him a proper shave would be an exhausting task…”

  The carriage stopped. The wry humor in Gilbert’s eyes was instantly replaced by something hard. Survival mode, I think. I didn’t really know what that was like, but I instantly sensed that he was pretty familiar. I don’t know if it made me feel better or worse.

  The coachman opened the door for us just as the double doors were swinging open. The man in red came out, and I didn’t see any sign that he recognized us.

  “Ladies,” he said.

  Gilbert bowed his head faintly.

  “Five gildens each, please, to be considered.”

  We both dug out some coins and put them in his hand. He snapped them up without any proper count, and waved us in. “Feel free to mingle about the reception area and enjoy drinks on the house. The Lucky Dragon will see you shortly.”

  “The Lucky Dragon?” I mouthed as we walked forward.

  The exterior of the building was so boring, I was shocked at the interior. The windows were all blocked out, but the palatial reception room was lit with a big chandelier dripping with candles that reflected off marble floors and silver and glass furnishings. The staircase was even made of glass with silver bannisters, although it had a skinny red strip of carpet running down so you didn’t trip on glass and kill yourself. Several rooms bled into one another, and each was a dazzling, overwhelming space with a small fortune in candles and oil lamps, mirrors, gold, silver, plush rugs, houseplants, marble, paintings, statues, vases big enough to hide a body in, stop thinking about disposing of bodies, Phoebe…

  The rooms were already populated with women of various ages, all well-dressed, some looking very nervous and others suave and assured. A man was tending a long, curved wooden bar, pouring whiskey into a small glass.

  “Let’s take them up on the drink,” Gilbert said.

  A woman was sitting at the bar, and she took the whiskey and gave us a polite, joyless smile.

  “Good morning,” I said, trying to sound like I was definitely one of the sophisticated ones and not like the girl with her hair in ringlets, sitting by the window twisting her hands.

  “It will be, if I find a match,” the woman said. “I’ve heard the army has shut down the harbor as they return from Gaermon and everything is delayed.”

  “Well, that’s tiresome,” I said.

  “Tiresome? I’m glad you think it’s merely tiresome. My brother was just executed and if I don’t get out of here I’ll be arrested. I’ve been waiting for ten days. Now it’s some greasy Panaran nobleman for me, I’m sure, but better than dead.”

  “Oh—uh—I’m sorry…”

  After that, I decided it was better not to chat anyone up. Clearly, everyone here was desperate. That was probably all I needed to know.

  I had a glass of wine and Gilbert had a cocktail, and as we were drinking them, a girl came down the stairs. She looked young in appearance, but too poised for her age, and had strange, silver eyes that surveyed the room in a calculating way. “Miss Temple,” she said, as those eyes locked on the girl with the ringlets. “Please come forward.”

  Ringlets girl hesitated like she was making sure Silver-Eyes meant her, and then she walked forward. “Y-yes?”

  “Your match is ready. The ship is docked at the harbor now. Please follow me.”

  “You mean, right now? My—my bags are in my room.”

  “Your bags are already on their way to the ship now. Please follow me.”

  “I didn’t think I would be ready so soon. I thought the harbor was closed off. She’s been waiting longer than me.” The girl pointed at the woman with the assassinated brother.

  “Matches do not occur in order; they are based on unpredictable factors,” the girl said. “Smaller ships are still departing. If you are sad to leave, you should have said something before now. I would recommend you fulfill your obligations. Please follow me.” I realized, as she kept repeating that same phrase, that although her face looked human, her hands were made out of a metal framework. She wasn’t real, just an inanimate construct. My stomach was flipping around. Where did you get a thing like that, and why would you have it?

  “Well, I guess this is goodbye,” the girl told the other women, sounding all anxious and hopeful. “I hope you all get to leave soon.”

  “Bloody figures,” the drinking woman said. “She didn’t even want to be here, and she gets to leave first. Her parents pushed her into this just to have a better life, blah blah.”

  I was feeling pretty uncomfortable, even though no one seemed to be here against their will. It wasn’t exactly human trafficking if you had to volunteer; in fact, I guess the manager of this place was taking a risk just to get people out. But at the same time, no one seemed happy about it. It was a decision you made when you had no other options, to leave your homeland forever in favor of a strange new country with a strange husband or employer. If we could seal the gate, they wouldn’t have to leave anymore.

  These are my people. If I was the priestess, they would be safe. That was what I needed to keep in mind, more than anything.

  “Let’s check out the rest of this place,” I told Gilbert.

  We moved from room to room, looking at all the ostentatious furnishings. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and frowned. “If I was an actual woman, I wouldn’t wear something so dowdy,” he said.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “But I know what you mean. I still want my pink ruffles. Ooh, look at this painting.” Across the room, I noticed a striking canvas depicting armies of dragons battling each other. The painting seemed very old and had damage spots, but the colors were still lush—what colors there were. Most of the dragons were black, but a gold dragon led the army. When I got closer I noticed that what I thought were smaller dragons were actually little
black, winged cats.

  “Oh no!” I gasped. “I didn’t need to see this. I miss her so much.” I bit my lip. “Look at them all…I wonder what this painting depicts.”

  “The painting depicts a battle between dragons accompanied by winged cats,” said a voice behind me.

  I practically jumped out of my dress.

  “Did I frighten you?” the silver-eyed mechanical girl asked.

  “Kind of!”

  “I thought so,” she said, nodding.

  “I can see they’re dragons and winged cats,” I said. “But why?”

  “They’re fighting a battle together,” she said. “They are probably aiding each other in the battle.”

  I slumped my head. Clearly, mechanical girls weren’t great with answering mysterious questions.

  “I have to ask you several questions before you can see the Lucky Dragon,” she said. “Please state your names.”

  “Phoebe.”

  “Gil— Gilda.”

  Her eyes locked onto him. “You are lying, Gilda.”

  “I—I’m not lying. That’s the name I go by.”

  “Why are you lying?”

  “I’m not lying!”

  “You are not a woman.”

  “How do you know?” Gilbert demanded, in an obvious man’s voice.

  “I can sense that you have male genitalia and physical makeup,” the girl said.

  Well, this was turning to shit pretty fast. A few guards—or maybe ‘toughs’ would be a better description—practically melted out of the walls. “All right, buddy, what’s the big idea, coming in here? You trying to steal our secrets for Kemp? Casing the joint? Or do you work for the empire?”

  “None of the above!” Gilbert shoved me out of the way. “Get back, Phoebe,” he said, although that was redundant because he had already made me ‘get back’. He took out a knife and as the first tough came at him, he immediately dodged. With swift and graceful movements, he used the guy’s weight to throw him to the ground and right on the heels of that, the second guy got a slash to the stomach. It all happened so fast. I hadn’t expected Gilbert to be such a fighter. He never fought the monsters.

 

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