The Good Luck Girls

by Charlotte Nicole Davis

  Violet was quiet for a long time. “I don’t know. You were right, you know, back in Clearwater. I was cruel to you and the other girls. I was willing to do whatever it took to make things better for myself. Because I just—I always resented that this life had happened to me, right? This wasn’t supposed to happen to me. The fairblood girl with the rich father.” She shook her head, curling her lip in disgust. “But this life shouldn’t have happened to any of us. And I made it even harder for you all. I would’ve been just as bad as Mother Fleur one day. I would’ve been worse.” She looked at Aster squarely. “I know it’s not enough, and I know it’s too late, but I’m sorry, Aster. For all of it.”

  Aster’s throat tightened with tears. She swallowed them back, surprised at the sudden rush of emotion. She hadn’t realized how much she had needed this from Violet, how long she had been waiting for it—an honest apology, a promise to be better.

  “Well, if you want to make it up to us, I can’t think of any better way than getting us to Lady Ghost like you promised,” Aster said with a forced chuckle. She looked up at Violet with a faint smile. “So are you coming back to camp with me, or do I have to drag you there?”

  Violet laughed gratefully and Aster helped her up from the porch. They crept back towards the gate.

  And then its doors flew open, and a tide of lawmen with rifles poured through.

  21

  Aster sat in the back of the lawmen’s wagon, her hands cuffed but her head held high. Violet sat across from her, her face pale as ash in the gloom. They each had a lawman at their side with a rifle ready in his hands. Aster’s heart thrashed against its cage, but her mind remained clear. Now that the worst had happened, she felt strangely calm. At least Clementine and the others were safe.

  You’ll get out of this. You’ll see them again, Aster told herself.

  The alternative was too terrible to think about. She had to shut it out, think only of how they would escape. She tried to communicate this to Violet through her eyes alone, but Violet was still too wretched to respond, her gaze glassy and unfocused and her hair hanging in her face. Her apathy frightened Aster more than anything else. It was as if she had already given up.

  The wagon bumped over something on the road. Aster shifted her legs to steady herself and was immediately jabbed in the side by the lawman to her left. She clenched her jaw. There were no windows in the wagon, but Aster could tell they had been traveling a long time—longer than they ought to be to make it to the local jail, even in a city as big as Northrock.

  So where the hell were they going?

  Aster swallowed back the fear rising in her throat. At last they came to a stop. One of the lawmen got up and shoved the back doors of the wagon open, hopping to the ground. The others led Aster and Violet out.

  Northrock was still visible in the distance, a warm glow against the dark, but they had traveled to the outskirts of town and now seemed to be on a lush estate. The grass was thick, the air sweet with the smell of a garden. Aster shivered as the wind slipped up her sleeves.

  “This way,” a lawman said, spinning her around roughly. Now Aster faced the manor itself, built of unyielding white stone that towered three stories high. Aster looked at Violet once again, to see if she had any idea where they might be, but Violet’s eyes were still downcast. She seemed to be murmuring something to herself. A prayer?

  The lawmen marched them forward.

  Aster’s boots crunched along the gravel walkway. She couldn’t fight with her hands bound. If she ran she would surely be shot. But she grew more and more certain, with every step she took, that if she walked into that building she would never come out again.

  At last they reached the front doors. A man stood waiting for them outside. He wore a perfectly tailored pinstriped vest, but his crisp white sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, as if he’d been working with his hands. Sky blue eyes peered out from beneath the brim of his bowler hat.

  Aster barely held in a surge of bile. The last time she’d met those eyes, they’d been staring at her across a gorge.

  “Mr. McClennon,” the lawman behind Aster greeted him. “We have the girls. Where would you like them?”

  * * *

  Jerrod McClennon.

  Aster’s resolve cracked. There could be no good reason for his requesting them to come to his private estate instead of taking them to jail. And it was surely against the law, but who was going to stop him? She watched helplessly as shine exchanged hands between McClennon and the lawman. Violet finally locked eyes with Aster, as if she, too, was beginning to realize how desperate the situation had become.

  McClennon led the group along a stone path around the massive house, to a cellar entrance guarded by two raveners emanating dread. The raveners leaned down and opened up the doors to reveal a yawning passage of stairs.

  We’ll meet again, I guarantee it.

  And when it’s your time, you’ll know.

  Aster knew.

  She began to struggle in earnest, trying to pull her arms out of the lawman’s grip, her heart rabbiting in her chest. It didn’t matter if it was futile. She would rather die here, fighting, than trapped down in that cellar.

  “None of that now,” McClennon chided, and immediately one of the raveners turned his gaze to her and plunged a dagger of fear into her chest. It spread like frost, leaving her numb and shaking. “You’ll conduct yourselves like ladies during your stay here.”

  Aster gritted her teeth against the pain beating in her skull and the rush of panic in her blood. She hardly even felt it when the lawman removed her handcuffs. He shoved her forward, and one of the raveners grabbed her by the shoulder, leading her down the stone stairs after McClennon. The other ravener followed with Violet, who stumbled in the dark. The raveners could see perfectly, of course, but McClennon used a lantern. Aster could just make out the rooms ahead by its light.

  Prison cells.

  McClennon set the lantern down on a table and fetched a ring of keys from a hook on the wall. Aster wet her lips, searching desperately for any escape. She began to struggle again in the ravener’s grasp, but he kicked her swiftly in the back of the leg, buckling her knee.

  “You’ll be wondering why I’ve had you brought here, no doubt,” McClennon said conversationally as he searched for the right key. The raveners mounted their pressure against her mind. “It’s because you girls are special—not the first ones to escape a welcome house, of course, but certainly the first ones to kill family of mine in the process. So it seemed only fitting that I handle your case personally. Mr. Mason down at the lawmaster’s office was happy to oblige.”

  “What is this place?” Violet asked, her voice flat. It was the first time she’d spoken since they’d been captured.

  McClennon found the key he was looking for and took his time opening the padlock to the nearest cell. “I have several raveners in my employ guarding the estate. I allow them to practice their craft down here on volunteers. It’s fascinating work they do.”

  Aster’s stomach churned. “Volunteers?”

  “Dustbloods will do just about anything if you offer to pay off their debts. Everyone has a price—but you know that, of course.” He nodded his head towards the cell. “In you go now. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

  Aster and Violet filed in, too weakened to resist, and McClennon turned the lock with a click. He left without so much as a second glance, taking the lantern with him—but the raveners stayed, and Aster could sense them watching her still. The cellar doors slammed shut.

  Aster and Violet found each other in the dark and slid down to sit on the hard-packed dirt. At first neither of them dared speak, not with the raveners listening, but it was a comfort just to hear Violet’s steady breathing.

  “How are you feeling?” Aster finally whispered.

  Violet let out a long sigh. “It’s been a hell of a night, that’s for damn sure.” Aster sensed Violet turning to face her. “Thank you, though, for … earlier…” Whether she was being vag
ue for the raveners’ sake, or for her own, Aster wasn’t sure.

  “Of course,” Aster said. She reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. It was a promise: We’ll get out of this.

  Violet squeezed her hand back as if to say, That’s a sack of bullshit, but thank you for it anyway.

  They fell silent again.

  Thank the dead Clementine and the rest of them aren’t here, Aster thought again. It was her only consolation, and she clung to it. Zee had promised to stick with them. Even if they couldn’t find Lady Ghost, maybe he’d take them back to the Scorpions.

  Even now, after everything, it wasn’t yet too late for them.

  Aster tried to stay awake, but her exhaustion was catching up with her. It would be nearly morning by now. She bit her thumb, hoping the pain would be enough to keep her conscious. The dread was deepening in her belly, and it wasn’t just from the raveners—it was from the idea of being left alone, in the dark, at the mercy of others. Falling asleep would only leave her even more vulnerable.

  But it wasn’t long before the cold seeped into her skin, and the dark ate away at her mind, and she gave into the weariness that had settled over her.

  When Aster woke, she had no idea how much time had passed. But McClennon was back, his lantern light shining in their faces.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  “Thought you all could use some company,” he said, and he swung his lantern light to reveal who was behind him.

  Tansy, Mallow … and Clem.

  The last of Aster’s courage left her then. She might have endured anything as long as she’d known Clementine had escaped. But now—

  McClennon opened the cell and forced the others in with Aster and Violet. Then he relocked it.

  “I told you girls we’d meet again. Now I’ve got the whole bouquet, don’t I?” he said, chuckling to himself. “You know the best thing about Arketta? A person gets just as much or as little as they deserve in this country. The days of the Empire and its tyrant kings are no more. Instead the working man rules himself, and if he pays his dues, he can live like a king himself. Glory to the Reckoning, indeed.” McClennon paced back and forth as he spoke, gesticulating as if addressing a formal audience. “You all are young, you take that kind of opportunity for granted. You resented the welcome house when others might have died to take your place. You wanted freedom without putting in the work for it first. And worst of all, you disrespected the very laws that keep our society whole. You killed an honest man. I understand it’s in your blood to behave criminally—the science says you can’t help yourselves—but still…”

  None of them moved or spoke as McClennon trailed off. The two raveners stood on either side of him, running a low current of fear through Aster’s blood. It was nothing to the anger rising inside her. She curled her lip, riling at McClennon’s words. His lies. He was taking his time getting to the point, and she dreaded to think what punishment he’d see fit to dole out at the end of this little speech.

  He crossed his meaty arms. “Fortunately for you girls, I’m a merciful man. I believe in second chances, in redemption. Our country was founded on those ideals, and it’s those ideals I will hold up as your governor. I understand that the one who murdered my nephew is the only real criminal here. The rest of you are just followers, weak-minded and spineless, as your people tend to be.”

  He paced again. Once. Twice. Then continued, “Clearly, the circumstances point to Clementine, the girl lucky enough to have been selected by Baxter. But I would hate to exact punishment without knowing beyond a doubt. What kind of governor would be so disrespectful of our citizens’ rights? So, as soon as you tell me which one of you killed Baxter—Clementine or not—I promise that the rest of you will be safely returned to Green Creek to continue your work.”

  “You should let all of us go,” Aster said, before anyone else could speak, before Clementine could out herself. She didn’t believe for a moment that McClennon’s promise was genuine, but if there was any chance they could all get out of this alive, she had to take it.

  But McClennon just speared her with a distasteful look. “It was murder, as determined by the law, and that law is clear on how murderers must be dealt with. I expect the execution will be a rather big show. The public will demand as much. But there’s no reason for the rest of you to sacrifice yourselves for her. So, who was it?” He looked at each of them in turn. They all froze, exchanging glances. Aster saw fear in each of their eyes, but determination, too. None of them was going tell.

  Then Clementine shifted slightly. Aster grabbed her hand.

  “Fine,” McClennon said finally. “I’ll ask again tomorrow.” Aster let out a tense breath as he began to walk away, but then he stopped and turned around.

  “Oh, and like I told you—a person gets just as much or as little as they deserve here. So if you want to eat, you’ll have to work for it. I’m sure these two will be happy to help you with that.” He nodded at the raveners, his smile twitching upwards once again, and left up the stairs.

  * * *

  As soon as the cellar door closed behind McClennon, Aster drew Clementine into a hug.

  “How the hell did they find you all?” Aster asked, shaking with equal parts anger and fear. The raveners were still with them, eyeing them silently. McClennon had left the lantern this time—not as a kindness, certainly, but so the girls could see well enough to go about their “work.” Aster shrank from the slow crawl of their gaze.

  “We got worried about you,” Mallow answered. She clutched at her side, wincing. “We went into the city to try to find you. But it was swarming with lawmen.”

  “And Zee?” Violet asked, anticipating Aster’s next question.

  Clementine cut a glance at the raveners. “He … went off on his own. We asked him to. There were places he could look that we couldn’t, him being a man.”

  “I’m sure McClennon would have brought Zee here if he had him,” Tansy murmured. “So I think there’s every reason to believe he hasn’t been caught.”

  “And every reason to believe he has no idea where we are,” Mallow added darkly.

  Aster’s heart sank even further. There could be no counting on him to help them out of this, then. Not that she suspected he could have, anyway. McClennon had said he had several raveners guarding the property, probably not even including the two he’d stationed down here with them.

  “I’ve been thinking, and I … I want to volunteer to take the blame for this,” Clementine said carefully. She couldn’t openly admit anything with the raveners listening to their words and reading their emotions, but, if the welcome house had taught them anything, it was how to talk around a ravener.

  “No,” Aster said.

  “None of us can take all the blame,” Tansy agreed.

  “I can,” Violet mumbled, but Aster cut her off with a look.

  “No,” she said again. “You’re with us now, Violet. All the way.” She swept her gaze around to the others. “None of us are taking the blame. We’ll figure something else out.”

  But Aster’s words rang hollow in her own ears, and probably to the others, as well. If it came down to it, she would take the blame herself. She had known that since the moment she saw Baxter’s body on Clementine’s bed.

  It won’t come to that, she told herself. They’d always found a way. The slag-glass lamp. The Sweet Thistle. The bank. The train.

  But they were out of options now.

  “Maybe Zee will find us,” Clementine said softly.

  Aster and Violet locked eyes. They couldn’t speak freely, but they didn’t need to in order to communicate their understanding of the bleak truth.

  They were on their own.

  22

  Morning arrived, though they couldn’t tell it from their underground cell. Their only sign that the sun had risen was the arrival of a houseboy carrying a pot of hot cereal. He kept his dark eyes on the floor.

  “You’ll remember what Mr. McClennon told you,” one of the raveners said
to them. He was the younger of the two. “This isn’t a free ride here. If you want this food, you’ll have to provide payment.”

  “Go dust yourself,” Mallow said. Aster grinned faintly.

  His eyes flashed with malevolence. “Have it your way,” he shot back, and a wave of misery washed over them. Aster’s chest tightened. Her throat grew thick with tears. “We’ll be back come nightfall,” he said. “Hopefully you’ll have seen reason by then.”

  He passed a pitcher of water to them through the bars, but he left the food just out of reach, the smell of it making Aster’s stomach cramp. The raveners and the houseboy left without another word. Aster dug the heel of her good hand into her eyes, wiping away the tears. She could barely even feel any relief that they’d been left alone.

  “Looks like we’ll only be guarded overnight,” Tansy said quietly. “Maybe the raveners have more important work to do.”

  “Thank the dead,” Mallow muttered. Her face was pale.

  Aster didn’t mention the thought that occurred to her: that McClennon had probably sent his raveners after Zee, and that he would not have left them alone down here if he weren’t certain they couldn’t escape.

  But at least they could talk freely now.

  “Everyone doing all right?” Aster asked.

  They all murmured assent, though they looked about as lively as the bag of kittens Clementine had once saved from drowning back at home, before the welcome house.

  “So,” Clem said, looking between Aster and Violet. “We never heard the whole story. Where did you disappear to last night, Violet?”

  Aster shifted on the hard floor, quiet. This wasn’t her story to tell. After a moment, Violet swallowed and told it herself, her voice growing stronger as she spoke. She left nothing out—not her plan to kill her father and then herself, not the lies she’d believed about her mother, not the regret she felt for the way her own resentment had made her treat the other girls. Clementine, Tansy, and Mallow listened without speaking, their faces shifting from shock to sympathy to uncertainty. Maybe they weren’t ready to accept Violet’s apology for the way she’d treated them in the past—but maybe, given the circumstances, they felt like they had to.