by Tina Hunter
There was no response to her sarcasm, only more glares. Lynn sighed and looked out the window. If their reaction was any indication, this job was definitely going to be up there as one of her worst ideas ever. Possibly even beating out the time she jumped in the river at her cousin's dare in the middle of winter.
"Look, Miss Baker," Simon said using one of her aliases, commonly used outside of Iridan, "I was only told about this foolhardy adventure a few hours ago, so perhaps you can let us have some time to deal with our new predicament. I might be forced to help you get these crystals for my uncle, but I don’t have to like it." He raised his wrist, showing off a contract bracelet with a scowl.
Right, because I want to be here so much. "Of course. How silly of me to think you might want to be involved in ensuring we all survive the task set upon us by your uncle. My mistake." She went back to looking out the window, gauging their reactions via her peripheral vision. Only Simon’s reaction went beyond a raised eyebrow or a shrug. He turned several shades of red, she could almost see the fumes of anger, and pulled his newspaper up to cover his face from everyone under the guise of reading it again.
Men. So sensitive.
Based on the direction they were traveling, they would continue on to Wellspring tonight, then Swanmouth and its steamboats tomorrow. The city behind them curled up onto a plateau by the sea. She could just see the ocean over the ridge in the distance and wished desperately to open a window to let the sea air clear out some of the man-musk in the carriage. Little towers lined the shoreline ridge, Aguara’s first warning if enemies ever massed in the sea, but everyone knew they were used to spy on Iridan’s shipping patterns.
Wellspring would be on the other side of the plateau, on the southern bay. She hadn't been there since she had moved to Iridan. Was that just a year ago? It felt like so much more than that. Trees were sparse on the plateau but the ones that she could see were starting to change colors. Autumn would soon be here in full.
They hit a bump in the road and her canvas bag slipped from its place above her head, landing on her lap. Her pair of lady shoes where the only thing hard in it, so it didn’t hurt. However, the sudden movement was enough of a surprise to make Teodor shout out.
"Oh calm down," she said.
"You should ‘ave locked it up tighter," he said which his hand over his chest. Poor thing seemed to startle easily. Not a good sign.
Lynn just rolled her eyes. Now that it was in her lap she might as well do something productive. She pulled out the simple green dress she'd stolen last night and her sewing kit and set about to make the alterations it would need to fit her properly.
"What on earth are you doing?" Simon asked when she placed her bag on the floor between them.
"Something to keep me preoccupied from the lack of stimulating conversation."
Simon snorted. "I'm surprised you even know such lady-like activities. From the way you dress one would be forgiven for thinking you more of a man than a lady of any worth."
Lynn's eyes snapped to his at the insult. Not that she wasn't used to it, but if these men were supposed to be trusted to help her complete this mission, she expected someone she could at least respect. Simon was losing what little of it he had.
"Do you know how dangerous it is for a woman to travel alone?" her voice was soft and sweet but her eyes never left Simon's. "Despite the growing trends, women are still treated poorly in this country when alone. Though it is better than it is back in Dukana. The Empire is quite strict on what should happen to an unwed woman caught traveling without a chaperone with three adult men." She smiled with venom and leaned towards him. "I don't dress this way because I wish to be a man. I dress this way to blend in, to avoid attention, and to stay alive. But thank you for your concern in this matter. I'll be sure to take it under advisement."
Simon grumbled under his breath, and Lynn caught the words 'women' and 'hormones,’ then pulled his newspaper back up to block her from his sight. She shook her head. He'd be lucky to survive her when she was on her monthlies.
She looked around to the others and they were all making sure to avoid looking at her. Brutus was back to studiously looking at his book and even Teodor had found a piece of paper or something to look at. She sighed heavily.
The day passed slowly. Lynn spent her time stitching the dress into a shape that would fit her without a corset should the need arise, and the men continued to avoid almost all conversation. It was aggravating to know that she'd have to work with such children. She didn't want to be here either but the least they could do was make the most of it. The sun was putting on a display of pinks and oranges in the sky by the time they pulled into Wellspring.
It was a port city, not as big as Iridan but a good place to ship out goods without the watchful eye of both militaries. She was surprised Darkan hadn't sent her here for something before now, but then again, all the rich people from Dukana set up homes in Iridan. The people in Wellspring wouldn't have the kind of things Darkan would want stolen.
"Well, not that you lot ‘aven't been church bells," said Teodor, stretching his back, "but I'll be looking for 'um ladybirds and 'umthing to sluice my gob this night. Where we laying in?"
"What did you say?" Simon asked. Lynn smiled.
“He wants to know where we are staying?” she answered for him.
“The Green Valley, I believe,” Simon answered, looking dubious that it was indeed what Teodor had asked.
"Ah,” she said turning to Teodor, “lovely inn. And not a far walk to the Velvet Rose, where I'm sure you'll find some ladies and something to drink." Lynn said. She was used to Dockers speech.
"Much obliged, Mizz Baker," Teodor said with the tip of his non-existent hat. He must wear one on a regular basis.
"Please, when it's just the four of us, call me Lynn." His smiled seemed hesitant when he nodded in agreement. There was something she was missing here. Maybe there was something more to their silence than just annoyance?
"Is he talking about a brothel? Dare I ask how you know where to find one?" Simon asked, his newspaper neatly folded on his lap. So now he wants to talk.
She had long since packed away her dress and her hands lay unoccupied in her lap while she spoke. "I've stayed in the Green Valley before, they cater to travelers and advertise the services of the girls working down the street. If I remember the advertisement correctly they even have a male proponent to their staff so perhaps I'll join you, Teodor." She had no intention of using such services but the look on Simon's face was enough to make it worth the wait in the lounge. And she could use a stiff drink after this trip.
Teodor raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything to dissuade her. Simon, on the other hand, was sputtering about like a drowning man.
"You... how... they... You, are a horrible example of a woman. I wish my uncle had never found you that day!"
"You and me both," she replied. To that he had nothing to say and glared out the window, determined to not look in her direction. She dared a look at Brutus and he was judging her with his eyes again, though she couldn’t tell what judgement he had come to.
The driver brought them right to the door of the Green Valley Inn and everyone jumped out quickly. Lynn sucked in the fresh sea air as if her life depended on it. Perhaps she would hire a separate carriage on the trip to Swanmouth. Darkan would have spared no expense for this trip and if she was going to travel in silence then she might as well do it on her own terms.
“Dorothy!”
Dorjee ducked at the sound of her new name but trudged into the receiving room from the galley to where everyone gathered. The Madam never spoke to her unless something bad had happened. She always blamed Dorjee for the bad things. Dorjee kept her head down, making sure not to look anyone in the face. All she saw were fancy men’s shoes and small women’s feet all bare except for one in dainty slippers.
“Dorothy, darling, these fine gentlemen are concerned that someone is stealing from them while they are upstairs enjoying themselves. You would
n’t know anything about that, would you?” The feet in slippers turned towards her. Madam Gendry was working tonight.
“No Ma’am,” she said quietly. The slippers moved closer to a pair of polished black shoes.
“See. What child would lie to you? You’ve been listening to rumors. No one has anything stolen while they are in my home.”
The man with the polished shoes knelt down so his face was level with hers. Dorjee tried not looking him in the eye, but she could see his nice suit and short trimmed beard. He reached out and tilted her face up to look him in the eye. His eyes were not kind.
“If you are stealing from me,” he said with a calm, quiet voice, “I will gut you like a fish.”
Dorjee shivered and nodded. He was much scarier than Madam, even when she was yelling and hitting her. The man stood up and Dorjee went back to staring at toes and shoes.
“Well, now that that is out of the way, let us all head upstairs...”
“No. George will be staying down here. With our jackets.”
“Of course,” Madam Gendry said sweetly. “Dorothy. Since you will be the only one downstairs, I expect you to keep the gentleman company. Why don’t you draw a pretty picture for him while he waits?” That was Dorjee’s cue. With a trembling nod, she turned away from the adults and went to sit in by the fireplace. Her portfolio was waiting for her, tucked against the wall beside her chair. She sat down and stared at the fire until the voices, giggles, and footsteps disappeared up the stairs. She looked around at the near-empty room and saw a man sitting near the entrance with a pile of jackets on the couch next to him. He gave her a skeptical eyebrow raise before pulling out a newspaper to read.
She put her portfolio on her lap and pulled out a blank page. Her sketches were awful, everyone knew she had no talent as an artist. She had no talent except one. The one that kept Madam from kicking her out on the street. The one she didn’t want to use tonight, not with that man upstairs, but the Madam would expect her to steal something.
Dorjee spent a few minutes sketching the man and his newspaper. The front page said more children were going missing all over the Aguarian countryside, more encouragement for her to stay in this awful house. She took a moment to gather her courage and then, keeping her hand moving to make the scratching sound of pencil on paper, she concentrated on the jackets beside Mr. George. If she focused hard enough she could feel the shapes underneath the fabric. Large, small, hard, soft. Something that felt like metal in the shape of an L. Her breath caught when she realized it was a gun, one of the new small ones, and she covered it with a cough. Mr. George glanced up at her briefly, then returned to reading his paper. These really were not the kind of people she should steal from, but Madam wouldn’t understand that. Or perhaps she would, but she wouldn’t care. Dorjee was only there to steal. If she didn’t, she would get beaten until the Madam grew tired. Then she’d likely have to sleep in the shed again and it was getting cold at night.
Running away wasn’t an option. She’d already run away once, from her home in Iridan. If she ran from the Madam, she’d send the Iridan Guards after her. Everyone who knew what she could do either wanted to use it for themselves or send her away with the Guards. At least here she had a place to sleep and food to eat. Out there, there was no telling who would find her next.
Dorjee focused her mind on the task at hand. The smaller shapes were easier to move so when she found one that felt like metal she gave it a little pull with her mind. She watched for the movement and saw it in a gray woolen jacket. Once she figured out the direction of the pocket, she could pull the item out - a cufflink. Mr. George still hadn’t looked up and she kept her hand sketching. She spared a glance at the image and realized that she had made Mr. George look like a pig sitting on a log.
With a sigh, Dorjee turned her attention back to the cufflink sitting on the outside of the jacket. She pulled it down the jacket onto the floor and then pushed it along the carpet to the back of the room. Madam Gendry had a special vase made, with padding on the inside, that Dorjee dropped all of her pilfered goods into. With one item in the vase, she spent a few minutes trying to fix her awful drawing before doing it all over again.
By the time she heard voices upstairs coming out of the rooms, her sketch was even worse than before and there were two sets of cufflinks and a watch in the vase. That was all Dorjee would risk taking from these men.
The front door opened and two new men walked in. A burly tanned man that looked like he was built to move big and heavy things, and a thin olive-skinned man that looked like he could leap around like a ninja if he had to. Dorjee would have liked to have seen that.
“Oie, squeaker! Where the ladybirds at?” The big man said with a Docker accent. She knew his type well from Madam’s clientele. She put her sketch and portfolio down on the chair and stood up to greet him.
“They’ll be down in just a moment. Can I offer you something to drink while you wait?” She kept her eyes down as the Madam had told her to and watched the feet of these two new men settle down onto chairs in the lounge.
“Whiskey ‘ere. And...” the Docker paused oddly, and she glanced up to see him looking at his friend.
“Same here,” the other man said. His voice was higher than she expected. Perhaps he was younger than she first thought.
Dorjee went over to the cupboard and pulled out the cheap bottle of whiskey just like the Madam had shown her. Two fingers each in a glass, put the bottle away, then ask for money to find out where they keep it.
She finished just as the adults from upstairs began coming down the stairs. Perhaps in the confusion of all the people, she’d be able to steal something from these new folks and make Madam pleased with her tonight. That usually meant she’d get to sleep in like everyone else, instead of getting up early to clean.
“Here you go,” she said handing the two men their drinks, “That will be three cobbs please.” She tried to keep her eyes down while still watching where the olive-skinned man was reaching to pull out the coins. He wore a small coin pouch under his vest. And it was modestly full. These men must have just gotten paid. A win for her.
“Welcome to the Velvet Rose,” Madam Gendry shouted from the bottom of the stairs. Dorjee watched her come into the room before remembering to look at her feet only. The Madam was a painted lady of the highest order. Gold curls piled on top of her head, red lips on pasty white skin. Madam Gendry told everyone she had Drakar blood, but no one believed a Drakar would move down here to end up a Madam. Not to mention she was too short. Dorjee wondered what she used to keep that rouge on her face when she was doing all that kissing upstairs.
The Madam let the other girls collect payment from the men who had gone upstairs with them while she wandered over to the chair Dorjee had been sitting in. She grabbed the sketch and handed it to Mr. George. He gazed at it with disgust, and Dorjee just looked down at the floor again, the 3 cobb coins digging into the flesh of her fist.
“Well, I had hoped she would have improved by now,” the Madam said dismissively.
“Maybe you’ll have to see if she has any skills in other areas,” one man from upstairs said. His intent and the other’s reception of the idea was clear from the giggles and deep laughs from all present. Save Dorjee and, surprisingly, the olive-skinned man.
The other ladies must have received the payment because they were all flocking to the new men. The Docker grabbed two ladies and put them on his lap whispering in their ears. One lady went up to the olive-skinned man but after talking to him for a moment he turned away from her. Not interested in kissing tonight. Still, she had better use the distraction to get some coin off him.
She slunk back to the wall, keeping her eyes low. She couldn’t help but notice that the men from upstairs were still inside, near the door, talking amongst themselves. She tried to make herself small. Surely Mr. George didn’t see anything. Maybe she shouldn’t steal anything else tonight.
She sought out the Madam with her eyes, maybe she could ask to be se
nt to bed, or even to the kitchen. She couldn’t help think about the gun in one jacket and wonder who was wearing it. Probably the man who threatened her. The Madam was standing by the fireplace and when her eyes met Dorjee’s, Dorjee motioned her head slightly to the galley. The Madam frowned and shook her head just enough for Dorjee to notice, then pointed at the men on chairs with her chin. Dorjee looked at the men still by the door then back at the Madam. Madam rolled her eyes but went towards the door.
“Is everything all right?” Madam asked. Dorjee couldn’t hear what the men said in reply but the Madam would take care of it. She always did.
Dorjee turned her attention back to the olive-skinned man sitting by the fire with his drink. He really didn’t seem interested in Miss Lily, who was sitting on his lap, but he didn’t push her off either. He was more focused on his whiskey. Dorjee concentrated her attention on his coin purse. She could feel it with her mind. The loosely tied strings meant she could feel enough room to move a coin or two out. She moved one when the man’s hand slammed down on the purse. He must have felt them moving, darn. She glanced at him and he was staring right at her. Did he know it was her? How?
“Move it, woman!” The man who had threatened Dorjee from before was shouting. Dorjee turned to see him throw Madam Gendry onto the floor and point at Dorjee.
“You are a rogue and a thief,” he shouted. Dorjee froze in place, her heart pounding out of her chest. What did she do now?
“Run Dorothy!” Madam yelled from the floor. Dorjee’s legs obeyed before her mind knew where she was going. She was back into the kitchen and then out the back door into the alley when she heard the shouting. Now that she was outside she kept moving. He had a gun. He would kill her if he caught her, she was sure of it.
Homes and businesses flew by her, and the shouting continued to grow closer from behind. Another turn and suddenly she found herself in a dead end. A blind alley.