The Good Luck Girls

by Charlotte Nicole Davis

  “But it’s probably a good thing if they’re not at the welcome house, right?” Tansy said to Clementine. “That means chances are they’re being taken care of by decent folk somewhere … hallowers, maybe, or the Scorpions…”

  “Or they’re already dead,” Violet said shortly.

  “By the Veil, Violet, can’t you go ten minutes without ruining someone’s day—” Mallow began.

  “Quiet!” Aster whispered suddenly. She’d seen movement out of the corner of her eye. A ravener was coming up the Bone Road on a hellhorse. The girls all ducked behind the bushes, hands falling to their weapons.

  “Oh, the dead protect us,” Tansy said under her breath.

  A wagon trailed behind him, iron bars forming a cage over the wooden base. Only one prisoner sat inside—a girl no older than ten.

  A welcome house recruit.

  Aster heard Violet swear as she locked eyes with Clementine.

  “Even with all five of us, we won’t be enough for him,” Tansy muttered. Raveners didn’t feel pain or fear, which made them far more dangerous in a fight than a normal man. That was why Aster had always run from them instead.

  “So we’re just supposed to sit here and let him take her away?” Mallow asked. “No, I say we ambush him. One clear headshot, and he’s done.”

  “You won’t get a clear shot,” Violet said darkly. “And not much else will stop him.”

  They looked to Aster, who swallowed. It was one thing to take a relatively small risk for Zee and his sisters—Aster felt like she owed them—but to run a much bigger risk to save a stranger?

  And there were other factors to consider, too. Where were they supposed to take the girl afterwards? How would Zee find them? What would they do when the law came running? They certainly couldn’t afford another run-in with them.

  We’ll take the girl with us until we figure something out.

  Zee said he’d catch up to us if there was trouble.

  And the law won’t be able to follow us into the woods, not once the vengeants are out.

  But the ravener …

  He swayed on the back of his hellhorse, the snout of a rifle poking over his shoulder. Aster could already feel his mental influence pressing against her mind. He was radiating despair to keep the girl subdued.

  Aster’s gut churned with anger, hot and acidic. If they did nothing, then within the next day this girl would be maimed by a doctor, scarred with a favor, and tortured until she lost all will to fight back—to say nothing of the work she’d be forced to do in the months and years ahead.

  “So, Aster? What do we do?” Clementine asked.

  Aster set her jaw. “We’re going to do whatever it takes to save her,” she said. Her heart hammered in her chest, not with anger, but with the sudden certainty that what they were about to do was exactly right. “Hurry—we can’t let them get into town.”

  Quickly, the girls wrapped dustkerchiefs around their faces and loaded their revolvers. As they did, Aster explained her plan in a whispered rush:

  “Mallow, you use the sling-stones to stop the hellhorse, then Violet and I will run up behind him and free the girl. Once she’s safe, Clem and Tansy can open fire and we’ll all make our escape into the woods.”

  The others stared at her, eyes steely. They were doing this.

  “I’m still hurting, so I can’t make any promises about my aim,” Mal warned as she searched the saddlebags for the sling-stones. The weapon consisted of three cords of braided rawhide with spiked weights on the ends. When thrown, it would tangle itself around an animal’s legs. Zee had used it to hunt small game when a gunshot would have given them away.

  Whether or not the weapon would be enough to take down a full-grown hellhorse, Aster had no idea.

  The ravener was only a length away now.

  “Back up,” Mallow whispered. She began swinging the sling-stones in a circle over her head. They whirled through the air with a low whup-whup-whup. She’d only have one shot.

  The ravener passed in front of them. Rust-red eyes, sandy stubble painting his jaw. No mercy in that face.

  Then, his body tensed. He turned—

  Mallow released the sling-stones. They flew through the air, low and fast. Wrapped around the hellhorse’s front legs and bit in deep.

  Yes!

  The beast reared, letting out an unearthly screech. It landed awkwardly but didn’t lose its footing. Still, it was stopped for now, thrashing in an attempt to free itself. There was no time to lose. Aster ran out onto the road with Violet following on horseback. They made their way to the wagon. The girl appeared despondent and slow to react, the ravener’s hooks still deep in her mind.

  Don’t worry, little one, Aster thought, bile rising in her throat from her indignation.

  I’m going to save you like I couldn’t save Clementine.

  I’m going to save you like I couldn’t save myself.

  The ravener climbed down from his saddle. Soothed his horse, knelt to inspect and untangle its forelegs. He didn’t look up as Aster took out her revolver. A trickle of sweat ran down Aster’s temple, and she willed herself not to freeze, aiming the gun at the cage’s padlock. “It’s okay,” she whispered to the girl, who stared without speaking. Aster glanced one last time at the ravener. He moved slowly, seemingly unconcerned. Something about his unhurried movements raised Aster’s hackles.

  “Do it,” Violet murmured from her saddle.

  Aster trained her eyes on the padlock again. She pulled the trigger.

  The air exploded. Aster jolted back as metal flew and smoke filled the air. Coughing, Aster pulled open the cage door and scrambled onto the wagon.

  “Who—who are you?” the girl asked, her words half slurred. Her eyes showed shock, but she hadn’t so much as screamed when the gun went off right beside her.

  “My name’s Dawn,” Aster said quickly, not sure why she gave the girl her true name. “We’re getting you out of here.”

  She took the girl by the hand and hurried them both down onto the road. The ravener was now standing, facing Aster at last.

  “You’ve injured my horse,” he said calmly, wiping blood away on his pants. “I will kill you for that.”

  He hit her with a spear of pain through her chest as though her heart were being crushed in a giant’s fist. Aster screamed as she fell to the ground, curling in on herself. Her gun clattered out of her hand. Fear roared through her head.

  “Take her! Get her out of here!” Aster shouted to Violet as she struggled to climb back to her feet. But Violet collapsed, too, falling from her saddle like a sack of grain.

  The first gunshots rang out from the others as the ravener started towards the girl, who stood frozen to the spot, watching him with blank terror. Bullets found his ribs, his thigh. He didn’t flinch, just slowly pulled his own rifle off his back. Aster fought against the sickening dread that washed over her as she crawled towards the girl.

  “No!” Clementine cried then.

  She ran out from the cover of the woods, a flash of movement in the corner of Aster’s vision.

  No, Clem, Aster thought desperately. Take the others and run.

  Clementine raised her gun. The ravener snarled and shoved her back with the butt of his rifle. Blood poured from Clementine’s nose. Aster leapt up with a fury she’d never felt before, his hold on her slipping away. An animal snarl escaped her lips. She grabbed her knife from its sheath and lunged—

  He spun with frightening speed and slammed the heel of his hand into her chest before the blade could find its mark. Aster’s legs flew out from under her. The air left her lungs. The ravener seized her mind once again, this time with a crushing hopelessness that made her throat swell with tears.

  They were all going to die here. Aster knew that then.

  She had tried as hard as she possibly could have, and they were going to die anyway.

  Through the blur of her tears, Aster saw Mallow and Tansy run out of the woods, guns raised, firing at the ravener’s head. The
pistols clicked emptily as the bullets ran out before they hit their mark.

  In the distance, shouting.

  The law was coming.

  “Let’s see your face, dustblood.” The ravener crouched down over Aster, pulled her dustkerchief away. His cold, slick fingers brushed her cheek. Aster’s stomach heaved.

  The ravener’s eyes sparked with recognition.

  Aster moved before she could think. He was hesitating, wondering what to do with her, but she had no such uncertainty. She had known the second she saw this ravener that she would kill him if she got the chance. Had known, since her first night at the welcome house, when the raveners had tortured her into submission, that they would never show mercy and would never deserve the same.

  “Glory to the Reckoning,” Aster whispered to him, making the words a curse, and she swung the knife. This time it landed, burying itself in his throat. He seized, his orange eyes lighting up with panic and his hands flying to the wound. Aster shoved him off of her and retched into the dust. He gasped for air, his breath wet, a ghastly rattle growing quieter and quieter. Until finally, there was no more breath at all.

  “Aster!” Clementine rushed over to her. She was clutching her nose, blood pouring out from between her fingers.

  Damn him, Aster thought.

  He had touched Clementine, hurt her. Aster wanted to kill him twice.

  “Are you okay?” Clem asked. She reached out and grabbed Aster’s hand, pulling her to her feet.

  “I’m fine.” Aster coughed. “Where’s the girl?”

  Clementine pointed. Violet was already helping the girl up into the saddle.

  Thank the dead, Aster thought.

  As if in response, they started up their howls.

  “All right, then, let’s get going before the law gets here,” Aster said. Together, they returned to the woods and mounted up, leaving the ravener behind in a spreading pool of his own cursed blood.

  17

  It took over an hour for Zee to join them at their emergency meeting point, a narrow crevasse in the cliffs. When he rode up to the shelter, it was at a speed Aster had never seen from him before. He brought his horse around to an abrupt stop and slid down from the saddle. The barrel of his vengeant shotgun was still smoking.

  “Were you followed?” Aster asked calmly. She was not here, in this moment and in this place, not really. She was floating somewhere outside herself, just a few inches to the left, as she had been since she watched the life leave the ravener’s eyes.

  Zee shook his head. “Only by the dead.” His breath came out short and hard. He limped into the shelter—three long furrows from a vengeant’s claws had ripped into the meat of his thigh, and his denims were soaked with blood.

  Violet grimaced. “Ripping hell. Join the others.”

  The others were gathered farther back, being patched up by Tansy in turn. Clementine’s nose was still bleeding. Mallow had opened her stitches again. And the girl—the girl was in shock. Her skin was rough with sunburn and insect bites and scratches.

  Zee stopped short at the sight of her.

  “Who the hell…?”

  “You told us to come here if we got into trouble—well, she’s the trouble,” Aster said. “We’ll explain more later. Go get yourself cleaned up.”

  Violet gave Aster an odd look.

  “You’re awfully relaxed. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you slipped yourself some Sweet Thistle,” Violet said in a low voice.

  The words seemed to come from far away. Aster turned to face her. “Good thing you know better, then,” she said coolly.

  She tried to walk past her, but Violet grabbed her by the arm. Aster shook her grip off.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “Are we going to talk about what happened tonight?” Violet persisted.

  “What’s there to talk about?”

  “You killed a man.”

  Aster’s stomach rolled.

  “I did what I had to do,” she muttered. “And that ‘man’ sold his soul a long time ago to become a ravener. I just killed an empty husk.”

  “Well, even so. It’s a hell of a thing. And you’re acting like it’s nothing.”

  Aster wheeled around on her. “You’re going to preach to me about being too callous? Really, Violet? Where was this sympathy when you were ratting girls out to Mother Fleur? Why’d you wait until now to grow a ripping conscience?”

  Aster felt as if she wasn’t in control of her own body anymore, words pouring out before she could even think them. A shaky feeling settled over her, as if her joints were coming loose, and chills raked up her arms.

  By the dead, maybe I really am losing it.

  Violet’s mouth was a hard line.

  “I wasn’t blaming you, Aster. I was just … making sure you were okay,” Violet said stiffly.

  She stalked off before Aster could reply, leaned against a tree, and took out her Sweet Thistle.

  Forget her, Aster thought mulishly, though she still felt sick. There were more important matters at hand.

  Aster walked over to where the others sat huddled together. Tansy worked on Zee’s leg. Mallow rewrapped her own wounds. And the little girl clung to Clementine’s side, dried tearstains streaking her cheeks. Clem washed her face with a damp cloth. They had managed to coax the girl’s name out of her earlier—Adeline—but not much else.

  “Are you hungry, darling?” Clementine asked her.

  Adeline said something unintelligible.

  “Sorry?” Clementine said.

  “A little,” she said more clearly.

  Aster sat next to her and wordlessly handed her a dry biscuit. Adeline nibbled at it with a sound like a mouse chewing at the floorboards.

  “Where are you from, Adeline?” Aster asked softly.

  She swallowed. “Yellowwood … but the man with the pretty eyes was taking me to live somewhere else. Somewhere my father said I wouldn’t be hungry anymore.”

  “A welcome house?” Aster asked.

  Adeline nodded.

  “Well, we’re from a welcome house, too,” Aster said, gesturing to the other girls. “And the truth is, it’s not as nice a place to live as that man probably told you and your father.” She paused, looking at Clementine, wondering how to explain it to the girl. She’d never been good with words, and she didn’t feel up to the task of comforting anyone right then.

  “The hunger’s in your soul, not your belly,” Clementine said, seeming to understand Aster’s silent plea. “And that’s much worse.”

  The girl turned her button-black eyes to Clem. She had no reason to trust them, Aster realized. Bad enough she’d been taken from her home—now she’d been kidnapped by strangers. But something about the softness of Clementine’s voice seemed to soothe Adeline. She began to cry again, quiet, leaking tears—they seemed more from her being overwhelmed than anything.

  “I want to go back home,” she said.

  “If you go back to your father, he’ll get in trouble,” Clementine said carefully. Deals with the welcome houses couldn’t be undone. In theory, a family could buy their daughter back—that was one of the ways fairbloods justified the whole practice—but the price was more than any dustblood saw in a lifetime. “And then the law will take you to the welcome house anyway. Do you have any other family, though? Someone who could maybe hide you?”

  The girl seemed to think about it. “My auntie,” she said finally. “She lives in Two Pines.”

  Aster looked to Zee to see if he recognized the name. He nodded.

  “It’s a little town about half a day’s ride from here. Your auntie works on the tenant farm there, Adeline?”

  Adeline nodded.

  “Well, should we try to take her there?” Clementine asked Aster in a hushed tone. “We can’t bring her with us to Northrock. It’s too dangerous.”

  “It’ll be dangerous getting her to Two Pines, though, too,” Aster murmured back. “It takes us out of our way, and we’ll risk exposing ourselves. And what if he
r aunt wants to send her back to the welcome house?”

  “Then we’ll tell her. We’ll tell her why she can’t,” Clem said.

  Aster hesitated. But she hadn’t saved this girl just to get her into more trouble by bringing her to Northrock.

  “All right, then, Adeline, we’ll take you to your aunt first thing tomorrow,” Aster said. “You just get some rest for now, hear? It’s been a long day. Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”

  Aster left her in Clementine’s care, letting out a long breath. She spread her bedroll and climbed into it. That shaky feeling still hadn’t left her. She looked over to where Violet sat at the entrance to the crevasse, her face turned to the wind to cool her skin from the fevered sweat of her withdrawal. Violet, the only one who had seen Aster’s deathly calm and recognized it for what it was—mortal exhaustion. The same kind that would fall over Aster after a particularly bad night at the welcome house. Violet had probably felt it herself a hundred, hundred times.

  I wasn’t blaming you, Aster. I was just … making sure you were okay.

  I’m not, Aster thought then.

  I’m not okay.

  It was a simple thought, but there was something huge and terrifying in it. She couldn’t afford to think that way. She had to be strong. Weakness was not an option, had never been an option. Clementine was counting on her. Mallow and Tansy. And now this girl—

  But the thought repeated itself, louder. It had escaped. She couldn’t put it back.

  I’m not okay.

  The words carried her on a dark current into an uneasy sleep.

  * * *

  The next morning they woke early and rode for Two Pines, weaving their way north through the increasingly dense forest. The green of the trees deepened, and the soil darkened, softening beneath their step. They were very near the edge of the Scab now. There were fewer lawmen in Arketta proper, but also fewer dustbloods. Even with their favors covered, they would draw unwanted attention.

  Aster tried not to worry about that yet. It was enough to worry about getting Adeline home safely. Now the young girl was riding with Tansy, whom she’d taken a liking to, while Mallow rode with Zee.