Amber Sky (C.O.I.L.S Of Copper and Brass Book 1)

by Claire Warner

  She stood and leant back against the wall, unsure of just what she had gotten herself into. While Darius had shown that he was unwilling to use her body as payment, she still did not fully trust the man. Pangs of cold pinched her feet, and she remembered the boots she held in her hands. Slipping them on, Tay placed the note into a pocket, collected her clothes and started to walk home. The fog had lifted a little as she traversed the Merchants’ District, but her attire did not draw attention this time. Walking down the slope toward the Factory, her thoughts began to drift from her predicament and back to Darius. She had gone to him with little expectation, and purely on rumour. Her father’s friends had mentioned his name at one time, and she had thought it worth the risk. She couldn’t really say what she had been expecting, a rebellious son, a meek bookkeeper, certainly not the handsome man who had aided her. She walked past the schoolhouse and headed toward the Housing District. The houses were built in regular rows with minimal garden space, and a general air of hopelessness exuded from every one of them. Smoke drifted from each of the chimneys, contributing to the miasma and smog that permeated the air. She glanced skyward, looking for a hint of the mother-of-pearl sky amongst the cloud, yet she was disappointed as usual.

  She turned left at the Ration Centre and walked on. What favour would Darius want from her? He claimed it would be within her capabilities, but how would he know? Troubled by her thoughts, she barely noticed that she had arrived at her house. Set at the end of a terrace, the small two-bedroom property promised partial respite from the raw weather.

  “Lana? Roj? She called as she opened the door, stepping into the hall. “I’m back.”

  “Roj is still at school,” her younger sister called as she left the living room to stare at her. “Where did you get all that?” She indicated the bundle of clothing in her hands. “I thought you were going to talk to Darius.”

  “I did.” Tay placed the clothes down on the table and began to sort through them. “He gave us this.”

  “And Father?”

  “He can’t get him released.” Tay folded a warm sweater and placed it in a pile. “But he can get him moved.”

  “He’ll still die though.” Lana picked up the neatly folded sweater and examined it. “Why can’t he free him?”

  “Because he’s high profile.” Taya took the sweater from her sister’s hands and placed it back on the table. “It’s all he can do to get him transferred, particularly because of Mother.” She folded the next item of clothing and gave a long sigh. The maid had clearly taken her revenge with the clothing: half of the pile was unusable. “We’ll be alright, I’ll be eligible to re-apply for ration soon.”

  “It’s not as much as Father’s claim.”

  Taya placed the thin, almost useless shirt on the table and counted to ten. “Don’t knock it. This is the best option we have.” She glanced at Lana’s mutinous face and continued. “They arrested Father for sabotage, do you honestly think they will make it easy for him to be free?” She picked up another shirt and began to fold it quickly, nervous anger running through her.

  “What’s wrong?” Lana rested a hand on her sister’s arm.

  “It’s…” Tay settled her hands on the table, trying to organise her thoughts. Her sister watched her for a long moment before she gave a huff of annoyance.

  “Come on, out with it.”

  Tay glanced over at Lana and took a breath. “It’s Darius,” she said after a moment’s pause. “He wants paying for his help.” Lana’s eyes narrowed with suspicion at her words, Tay noticed, and quickly continued. “He wants a favour.”

  “What kind of favour?” Lana’s voice held volumes of distrust.

  “I don’t know.” Tay admitted after a moment. “He didn’t say.”

  Lana gave a huff of disgust. “Well, I think it’s plain what he’ll ask for,” she muttered with a sneer that seemed wrong on her young features.

  “No.” Disagreeing with a shake of her head, Tay returned to the clothes pile. “I know he’s not after that.”

  “How can you be sure?” Lana’s eyes widened slightly as she stared at the slightly guilty look on her sister’s face. “Tay?”

  “I offered, okay,” she announced finally, “and he said no.”

  “You offered?” Lana repeated with disbelief in her voice. “How could you?”

  “I thought that was what he would want,” she retorted with real heat to her voice. “I had nothing to trade for father’s freedom and that was all I could think of.”

  “And he said no?”

  “Yeah,” Tay replied with a small smile. “He said he wouldn’t take sex as payment.”

  “Well, you got away lucky.”

  “Not necessarily.” Tay returned to the clothes pile and began sorting through it with greater speed. “Now I owe him a favour, and I don’t know what it is. The other way, I would feel cheap, but at least it would be done.” She finished going through the pile and handed an armful of clothes to Lana. “Now get those tidied away and come help me in the garden. We still have to see what we can salvage of the veg before winter sets in.”

  Lana took the offered clothes and headed for the stairs. Reaching the bottom rung, she turned to face her sister. “What was he like?”

  “Darius?” Tay asked, a quizzical look on her face.

  “Who else?” Lana leant back against the wall and waited. “All I know of him is what Father’s friends said of him.”

  Tay thought for a moment, thinking back to the first time she had seen that handsome, arrogant visage. Unsure of what to expect, she had certainly not expected him. Close to her own age, with eyes so blue you could drown in them, Darius had been a surprise. Even without her nerves about asking for a favour, she would have been tongue tied anyway.

  “Different,” was all she said as she reached for the trowel and moved toward the back door.

  “How different?” Lana pressed from the staircase. “Was he arrogant, ugly, a creep?”

  “He certainly wasn’t ugly,” Tay finally replied as she pressed the latch on the door. “And he’s not a creep.” Pushing open the door, she began to head into the garden. “Younger than I expected.”

  “Go on.” Lana placed the pile of clothing in her arms on the steps and followed her to the door.

  “It wasn’t that exciting,” Tay answered, sucking in a breath as the frozen air hit her skin. “I just wasn’t expecting the man I met.”

  “Tay…” Lana whined as she pulled another jacket about her shoulders and followed her outside.

  “Why is Darius so important?” Tay asked as she reached the first row of vegetables and began to dig.

  “Because of what Father’s friends said about him.”

  “Oh?” Tay dug a small, stunted carrot from the ground and placed it in a metal pail. “And how would you know what they said?” She glanced up at her sister and nodded to the ground.

  “I listened.” Lana knelt down in the dirt and began to dig. “They said he had his own agenda and I thought…”

  “Thought what?”

  Lana sat back on her heels and looked at her older sister. “That he wanted you to be part of it; whatever it is.”

  Tay stopped digging for a moment and stared at her sister. “Well, I doubt that,” she said finally. “Father didn’t exactly include me in his schemes so, I don’t know how much help I can be.”

  “But what if Father has some plans hidden and he wants us to find them?” Lana’s voice rambled on excitedly as she reached back into the dirt to pull forth some more of the sorry-looking vegetables. “What if he’s part of the resistance?”

  “Lana,” Tay snapped out in a sharper voice than she intended. “Don’t talk about things like that out here.” She nervously glanced over her shoulder at the fences that ringed the garden. Lowering her voice, she continued. “What if someone’s listening?”

  “Why would anyone be listening?” Lana questioned, rolling her eyes at her sister’s paranoia.

  “Get on with your chores,”
Tay muttered as she began digging in the ground with fresh determination.

  “Alright.” Lana acquiesced in a bored tone as she jabbed her trowel into the hard ground. “I think you’re crazy.”

  “Really?” Tay stopped digging and raised an eyebrow at her sister. “How did they know about Father?”

  Lana stopped digging, and her face fell. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she whispered. “You think one of our neighbours?”

  “Let’s not talk about this now.” Tay threw another two carrots into the pail and stretched. “Just get on with it.”

  Their fingers were numb by the time they finished, and the light was fading. “Time to get back in,” Taya announced, shivering as another gust of icy cold wind blew across her skin. “Roj will be back soon, and I need to pick up the ration for today.” Wrapping a cloth about her fingers, she picked up the freezing-cold, metal pail before she headed back toward the house, and the relative warmth it supplied. There would be time later to ponder her meeting.

  Chapter 2

  Tay left her home the following morning to a clear amber sky. The strong winds the previous night had swept the sky of fog, leaving a sharp, dry cold in its place. Smoke drifted from the chimneys of the houses lining the road, the grey-white vapour curling into the clear air like clouds. Huddled against the cold, dressed in her father’s old coat, she looked like a lost child. Beneath a concealing wrap of old rags, her new boots warmed her feet, and a new jumper kept the worst of the chill at bay. Frost rimmed the edges of the puddles on the main thoroughfare, and she swore at the sight. With the onset of ice and frost, it became more imperative to keep the fire stoked at home. Ration only provided the bare minimum of coal for a week, and it certainly wasn’t enough to heat the house and cook. As the winter deepened, she began to wonder about joining the scavengers at the depot. It was dangerous to steal from the supply lines, but she might not have any other choice.

  Not for the first time, she wondered what life would have been like if their mother hadn’t died. She skirted the puddles, her thoughts elsewhere. Her memories of her mother were patchy and coloured by time. If she thought hard enough, she could almost see her face. Tarin Emerson had been killed during the food riots, two years after Roj’s birth, and like all of those present at the riot, her family had suffered the rating loss. A man loomed ahead of her, and she ducked to one side, apologising for the near miss. The authorities had almost cleared that blot from the family records, and then her father had been arrested. She kicked a pebble across the frozen road and kept going. Had it not been for her mother’s rebellion, they would have been living a comfortable existence.

  Passing the Ration Centre, she avoided the group of guards that lingered beside the entrance, and hurried on. Thankfully, the cold seemed to have dissuaded them from their usual game of harassment, but their eyes followed her as she moved off down the road. Protected by the authorities, the guards became tyrants, assuming duties that were beyond merely keeping order, and she avoided them as often as she could. Rating for guards and Ration Centre workers was generous and came with accommodation in the more salubrious areas of the City. As a consequence, guards tended to have an increased desire to maintain the system, and they were enthusiastic in their duties. Her mind flashed back to the morning of her Father’s arrest. They had woken to a loud banging on the door and immediately realised the danger. There was no guarantee that the guards would have stopped at merely arresting their target, and they had all heard the horror stories. As the door splintered with the force of the blows, her Father had shunted all of them into the attic. In the cramped and freezing crawl space, they had watched their father being dragged from the house. Despite his lack of resistance, he had still been severely beaten, and the house turned upside down. Thankfully, the route to the attic was concealed, and the guard had failed to find them. For an hour, they had huddled together, too terrified to move as their home was torn apart. Once they had smashed what they could, the guards finally left, and Tay walked downstairs. There hadn’t been a single thing left unbroken, and the front door hung drunkenly from its hinges. Swallowing back her tears, she had immediately called the numbers that her father had drilled into her memory.

  The train station came into view and broke her from her daydream. Once immaculate, it’s façade was now coated with soot and factory pollution. She had been told that there had once been regular passenger traffic between their community and others, even as far as the City, but she had never seen such a thing in her lifetime. The only trains that left the station these days were either supply wagons or transport for the nobility and their guards. Travel wasn’t forbidden, but it was prohibitively expensive, and there was little reason for people to leave the area. When actual money was scarce, it wasn’t wasted on travel. She stopped to watch the train being loaded for a few moments, wondering whether she could just clamber onto one of the carriages and run far from the mess of her life. The breeze picked up and ruffled her hair, distracting her from her musings. Shaking her head free of thoughts of escape, she continued to walk, hoping to reach the park before the meeting time.

  Moving away from the stockyard, she walked along the broad, weed-choked avenue toward the park that laid in the exact centre of town. The park was usually an oasis of greenery in the squalid misery of the surrounding areas, but at this time of year it was barren, the green stripped from the trees. There were only a few visitors to the park on this cold morning, and she crossed the frosted grass without interacting with another soul. Moving past the ancient play equipment that was decaying on the southern edge of the now disused flower garden, she hurried toward the fountain that stood in the middle of the park. Set in a shallow pool, worn with age and soiled with years of soot, the fountain depicted two figures clutching a ball. For a moment, she stared at the sculpture, wondering about their significance.

  “I’m glad to see you came.” She whirled about at the voice, heart increasing its pace as Darius moved closer to her.

  “I almost didn’t,” she whispered, struck again by the attractiveness of the man before her. Dressed for the weather in a thigh-length, black woollen coat, his hair concealed by a dark grey trilby he exuded the same confidence he had displayed the day before.

  “Understandable,” he replied, falling into place beside her. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “Why did you…” He placed his fingers to his lips, and she stopped talking, waiting as an elderly couple walked past them. A bitter wind ruffled her hair, and she shivered, drawing the coat further about her shoulders. Wordlessly, Darius removed his gloves and handed them to her. With trepidation, she slowly reached her hand out.

  “They don’t come with any strings,” he said with a hint of impatience.

  “How can I be sure?” she retorted as she took the offered items, and slid them onto her hands. The gloves still retained the heat from his hands, and she closed her fists, absorbing the welcome warmth. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “That”－Darius tucked his hands into his pockets as he spoke－“isn’t a problem.”

  “Why did you want to meet me?” Despite her best efforts, her voice trembled, and she hoped he would pass it off as a reaction to the cold.

  “Your father,” he uttered in soft tones, “is a high-profile prisoner.”

  “Yes,” Tay answered, a feeling of dread coursing through her blood, “I told you yesterday.”

  “Indeed, you did.” He walked forward, and casually placed his hands on the top of the fountain wall, leaning forward as he stared into the murky, stagnant water.

  “Are you telling me that you can’t move him?” Tay whispered, fear racing down her spine.

  “No.” He turned around and faced her. “I keep my promises. I just have to ensure that you will fulfil your end of the bargain.” His eyes bored into hers, the dark blue gaze almost as cold as the air around them.

  “I will,” she assured him, trying not to take a step back. “You have my word.”

  He gave a sma
ll chuckle. “But how can you repay me if I can’t find you?”

  “You could tell me now how I can repay you,” she suggested, wondering just what he had in mind for repayment. Certainly, there was nothing material she could offer him.

  “Not just yet,” he replied, dismissing the idea with a cavalier wave.

  “I don’t understand,” she protested, nervousness giving way to irritation. “What do I have that I could possibly offer you? Why can’t you just tell me and get it over with?”

  “Because I don’t need the favour right now,” he answered, watching her increasing impatience with a lazy smile.

  “Then I can just tell you where I live,” she offered, wondering briefly why she was volunteering this information, when he could discover it easily through his contacts. “And you can visit when you want me to repay.”

  “Too risky for me to make the trip,” he retorted, staring out across the wintry landscape. “But I have a solution.” A pair of deep blue eyes connected with hers. Tay grew still, sure that he was about to name his price. “I believe you have need of a job.” Tay started, unsure of what she had just heard. “The house next to us has a vacancy for a scullery maid,” he continued, oblivious to the look of shock on her face.

  Tay froze for a moment, waiting for his words to make some kind of sense. “Why?” she found herself asking as the silence stretched uncomfortably between them.

  “It solves my problem,” he answered. “I need to be able to contact you without too much difficulty.”

  “How will I get the job?” she asked, too stunned to think of anything else.

  “Don’t worry about that.” He leant against the edge of the fountain. “The Frazers use Carfax Domestics to hire their staff, and Carfax Domestics will send the next person on their list.” He gave a small shrug. “It’s child’s play to hack the system and add you.”

  “Why would you go to such trouble?” A chill breeze tugged at her hair. “Why can’t I just promise to come to see you?”