“Yes, of course. Of course,” Aster said quickly. “And I know, us asking you to risk discovery on our behalf is … a lot. But we could get you the shine to make it worth your while. Help you keep everyone here fed.”
“I don’t know, have you seen how crowded this place has gotten?” Cutter cracked. “I doubt even you all could rob enough brags for that.”
Aster glanced at the others. The shine would come from Derrick, but she didn’t want to admit that.
“You ought to know better than to doubt us by now, Cutter,” Clementine said, saving her, and Aster nodded at her gratefully, even as the guilt in her chest grew.
It’s one thing to lie to the landmasters and the law, but now I’m lying to my allies.
It was necessary, she reminded herself.
Sam let out a breath. “If it was only up to me, I’d say I’m convinced,” he said. “But something like this—we’ll have to put it to the whole group. The law has gotten a lot more aggressive these past few months, and they will be turning over every rock looking for you all. It’s going to put our whole operation at risk. For a good cause, no doubt—but still.”
“I’ll be honest, I don’t reckon the boys will like it,” Cutter admitted. “Sticking their necks out for some Good Luck Girls … there are some who are bound to see it as a kind of betrayal to our cause. They think of you all as sellouts … and they’re wrong, of course, but they’re also loud about it.”
“Yeah, but think about it,” Eli said quietly. “If Aster’s right, and burning down the landmasters’ property really does force them to change their ways, that could be good for all of us. This time, it’s about the welcome houses … next time, who knows.”
“Exactly,” Aster said, meeting his eyes.
“Well, let’s hope they see it that way, then,” Sam said. “We’ll hold the meeting first thing tomorrow.”
12
Aster’s mouth was dry as she took her place behind the podium at the front of the meeting hall the next morning. The room was full of boys as young as twelve and men old enough to be her father, though most were in their teens and twenties. Some looked excited to see her, whispering to one another and stealing glances to the front of the room, but plenty of others were unsmiling. And they all bore scars from the work they’d done in the mines before joining the Scorpions. How many of them would be happy to risk what they’d built for the sake of a bunch of girls who lived in mansions? The welcome house was as much a hell as any sunless, suffocating mine—but Cutter was right. Most of these men wouldn’t see it that way.
“All right, quiet down now! Quiet!” Sam shouted. He stood up front next to Aster, along with Eli, Cutter, and the rest of her friends. It felt good to have them here with her, ready to lend weight to her words. But she felt Zee’s absence as a physical ache—and as hard as Clementine seemed to be trying to hide her worry, it was clear that she wished he were there, too. He had been their connection to the Scorpions. These were his people. He would know better than any of them what to say.
Zee had said he would arrive sometime today, and it was early enough, but still …
Where was he?
“Don’t be nervous, Aster,” Eli said from beside her, his voice a low rumble that cut through the noise.
“Who said I was nervous?” she muttered back, bristling.
Eli chuckled. “No one. I’m just saying, if you are—don’t be. We’re not worth it. I guarantee you half these boys flip their drawers inside out rather than wash them.”
Aster wrinkled her nose in disgust, but she couldn’t help a short snicker. It loosened some of the tension in her chest, and she flashed Eli a grateful smile.
Sam continued to shout over the hubbub until it quieted. “I need you rabble to give Aster here your undivided attention! She has an important proposal for us to hear, and I want you to consider it carefully before we put it to a vote.”
“Thanks, Sam,” Aster said. She fought back the fear that clawed its way up her throat. Not fear of speaking in front of a crowd—Eli was right, she didn’t give a damn what any of these people thought of her, outside of her friends—but there was a voice in the back of her mind warning her that she was outnumbered and in danger in this room full of men. Her thoughts began to waver as she scanned their faces, threatening to uncouple from her body entirely. Light-headedness filled her skull, nausea swirling in her stomach. She swallowed, wetting her lips.
Count your breaths.
But they were too short now, too fast. Getting away from her. It was all getting away from her. She gripped the podium with both hands, nails biting into the wood.
“Aster?” Tansy said quietly, touching her shoulder.
One—two—three—four—
Five—
Six—
Seven.
Aster felt the panic pass. She let out one last shuddery breath, smiling back at her friends gratefully, then turned to face the crowd, stood up straight, and began to speak.
“You all know me as Aster of Green Creek,” she began. “And despite what the papers told you, I wasn’t killed by McClennon’s men…”
There were outbursts from the crowd, asking questions and demanding details, but Aster held up her hand to quiet them and settled into her story. It helped that she’d already told it to Sam just last night. She knew what to say now—what to leave out, when to lie. She tried to gauge the crowd’s reaction to see how they were responding to her plea, but it was hard to read them.
“We’re going to strike at the landmasters where they’re most vulnerable, force them to close the welcome houses. And that’s why we need your hospitality—because they’re damn well going to come after us,” Aster finished, no longer needing to coax the passion into her voice. “The work you’ve done here—what you’ve accomplished with these tunnels—it’s one of the most amazing acts of resistance in the history of Arketta. So please, I beg you: let us stay here until our own work is done. Help us help those who need it the most.”
The room remained silent except for a few scattered murmurs. Aster swallowed.
“Do you all have any questions before we put this to a vote?” Sam asked into the silence.
“Damn right I have some questions,” a voice from the back spoke up. “You say you’re doing all this to free the Good Luck Girls from McClennon’s welcome houses? Well, who’s to say those girls even want to be freed? They’re living like royalty. I don’t think they’ll thank you for putting them out of a job, and I don’t much look forward to the rest of us caught and killed in the process, either.”
There were mutters of agreement. Aster held back her frustration.
“None of you know what it’s like to live in a welcome house. We do,” she said, gesturing to her friends. “So believe us when we tell you, these girls would be more grateful than you could ever imagine. Some of them may even join your cause once they’re free.”
“I mean, I suppose I could think of one or two ways they could thank us, then,” another voice cracked, and scattered laughter filled the hall.
Heat suffused Aster’s face. She bared her teeth against the anger threatening to overwhelm her. But before she could form a response, Sam stood and spoke up.
“Enough!” he roared. It was the first time she’d ever seen him look truly angry. “Have you no shame? You call yourselves men but cower and bully like children. These women have accomplished more in the past year than some of you can hope to achieve in your entire lives. And now they come here, of all the places in the world, to ask for our help, on behalf of your own aunties and cousins and sisters and friends, and you have the audacity to laugh at their expense. I will not have it, do you hear? I will not have it.” He surveyed the shamed faces. “Now,” he finished, tugging at his cuffs. “Does anyone else have something to say before we put this to a vote? Does anyone have a legitimate concern?”
Aster’s eyes stung, and she could not bring herself to look at Sam, because she knew if she did, the tears would fall. She blinked hard, co
unting her breaths in her head once again. For a long time, no one said anything, and Aster wasn’t sure whether the silence was a good thing. The mood of the room had soured, that was certain—she didn’t want the Scorpions to vote while they were feeling resentful. But Sam’s words must have moved at least a few of them, surely.
“All right, then, let’s begin the vote—” Sam started.
“I have a question,” an older man in the back said, standing so his voice would carry across the room.
By the dead, Aster thought.
“Mr. Weatherby. Please,” Sam said, yielding the floor.
The man’s brown skin was wrinkled as a walnut, his clothes worn white at the knees and elbows. There was no anger in his eyes, only weariness. Aster gritted her teeth, then nodded at him to continue.
“Thank you,” Mr. Weatherby said. “I have nothing but respect for you, Aster. I agree with Sam that some of the nastiness you’ve been subjected to today has no place in the community we’re trying to build here. But I have to ask, for the sake of that community—how is it you’re going to provide us all the shine you’ve promised in return for our sheltering you? It’s not that I doubt your integrity, only the details. If you’re getting yourself into some kind of trouble for it—something that could double back on all of us—well, we have a right to know. Your lives, and ours, depend on it.”
Aster swallowed, looking to her friends.
“I completely understand your concerns, Mr. Weatherby. But I’m afraid that is … privileged information,” she managed. “For your own safety, it’s best you don’t know all those details.”
The uproar that followed was expected, but Aster still recoiled at it. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could take this.
“Privileged for who?”
“Why does she get to decide?”
“What the hell are they hiding?”
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, please,” Sam urged.
“Are you going to resort to highway robbery again?” someone asked. “Because I’m all for taking some bastards for everything they’ve got, but you have to admit, that’s not going to be enough.”
“Not with all the mouths we have to feed now,” someone agreed.
“And how are you expecting to get away with it when the law’s going to be tearing apart the whole Scab looking for you? You can’t be lucky forever.”
It’s not luck, it’s hard work and skill and working together that got us this far, Aster thought angrily.
But working together with Derrick was bound to be an unpopular confession.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cause any trouble,” Mr. Weatherby finished, sitting down. “I just—I don’t feel comfortable voting either way until I know more about this.”
Sam leaned in. “I understand your resistance, Aster. And you know everyone up here trusts you. But a little bit of honesty will go a long way with the rest of them. It’s a fair question he’s asking.”
Damn it. She looked at her friends. Eli gave her an encouraging nod. Aster took a breath and pressed on.
“All right, all right,” she said, to quiet the room. “I can tell you where we’re getting the shine, but the information cannot leave this camp,” she said. “As I said, everyone’s safety depends on this.”
“Just tell us already!” someone shouted.
Aster looked down at the podium, at the swirl of the wood grain, as if the answer were written there. Hesitating. Stalling. She had already told them the Lady Ghosts’ secrets. What was one more betrayal? She looked back up, wet her lips, and spoke.
“Derrick McClennon,” she began. “I told you our friend Violet was working for him as a double agent—but the truth is that he is a double agent as well. He’s been feeding her—us—information, secrets from the landmasters’ inner circle. It was thanks to him that we could afford to travel back to the Scab as quickly and safely as we did. And now he’s offered to help us again: when we attack the gambling hall, Derrick will be there, and we’ll stage his kidnapping and bring him back to the camp with us. We’ll pretend to hold him hostage as further pressure on his family to give in to our demands, and he’ll continue to provide us with information—and shine—while he’s here.”
The uproar that rose up now made the previous backlash seem like a whisper.
“You’re taking shine from Derrick McClennon?”
“You expect us to work with that snake?”
“And give him three meals a day?”
“See! What did I tell you? They are literally in bed with the landmasters—”
Aster looked to her friends for help, but even Eli looked at a loss for words, a crease wrinkling his brow. Aster’s heart lurched with regret.
I should never have accepted Derrick’s help.
Then a defensive part of her spoke up. I did what I had to do. Why can’t anyone ever see that?
If there was one thing she’d learned, it was that she couldn’t do any of this alone—and that went for all her fellow dustbloods. They needed all the help they could get right now. They weren’t in a position to turn Derrick away.
Several of the Scorpions started to walk out of the meeting room.
“Gentlemen, please!” Sam urged. “We still have to put this to a vote.”
“What for? As if we’ll ever work with a ripping McClennon? As if we’ll ever work with anyone who would?”
“His family tried to kill you! What kind of coward goes crawling back to them for scraps?”
“These girls have no honor. No loyalty. We’ve always known—”
“I wish you would have trusted us with this secret, Aster,” Sam said softly as the room continued to rail against her. “We could have tried to help you convince them … but now…”
“They’ll never go for it,” Eli murmured darkly. “They feel betrayed … and maybe they should.” There was hurt in his eyes when he looked at Aster, and that’s what finally broke her. She stepped away from the podium.
“Who are you to judge? Any of you?” she shouted over the noise. She paced back and forth like a catamount on the prowl, frustration setting her on edge. “None of you turned your nose up at the landmasters’ shine when it was time to collect your weekly pay. But now that they offer it to us freely you’re too good to accept?”
“Nothing is free! What is this deal costing you?” someone shouted.
“Whatever the cost, I will pay it. I am willing to pay it, for the sake of these girls. What are you willing to do?” Aster said, jabbing her finger accusingly at the man who’d spoken. “Look, I don’t care what you, or anyone else, thinks of me. My pride is not what matters here. These girls are what matter.” Aster thought of all the friends at Green Creek who she’d left behind—girls who, in the months since, would have been left to the mercy of dozens of violent men, who were being made to suffer more, each night, than anyone should in a lifetime. Bile rose in her throat. “Derrick has power. None of us can deny that. And we need power if we are to even the odds in this fight.” She started towards the man who’d spoken. “Maybe you’re the coward…”
“Aster,” Clementine whispered, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. “Aster, don’t. It won’t help.”
Aster blinked, her mind clearing as she met her sister’s gaze. She looked at Sam, who was trying in vain to regain control of the room; Cutter, who was running a hand through his shaggy hair in exasperation; and Eli, who still couldn’t seem to meet Aster’s eye.
“It’s not enough to get them to do it for the shine—not when it’s coming from Derrick McClennon,” Clementine said.
Tansy, Mallow, and Raven had huddled closer to Aster’s side now, too.
“There’s got to be something else we can offer them to sweeten the deal,” Raven murmured.
“We shouldn’t have to,” Aster said through her teeth.
“I know.” Mallow sighed. “But we’re asking a lot of them—even if they’re being assholes about it, expecting them to trust a McClennon … it’s asking a lot.”
Aster scowled. But she herself hadn’t been willing to trust Derrick at first, either. She sighed.
“Well, what else could we say to convince them? It’s not as if they were sold before we brought him into this, but now…”
“I think I have an idea,” Clementine said quietly. “Derrick said there was a stash of theomite at the gambling hall—some of the finest specimens from his family’s mines. We could steal it, bring it back here. That would make it a whole hell of a lot safer for the boys to travel through their tunnels, which is bound to be worth the trouble of hosting Baby McClennon.”
“But Clem, Derrick isn’t even here,” Aster said. “We have no idea how much theomite there is. How can we make a promise like that when we don’t know—”
“There’ll be enough!” Clementine insisted. “There’ll be more than the likes of us can even imagine, probably! You’ve seen how his people live! Just—please, Aster—we can’t have come all this way … we can’t have left Zee behind … for nothing. Make the offer.”
Aster looked into her sister’s eyes, unwilling to doubt her confidence.
She’s right. We can’t have come all this way for nothing. We have to at least try.
“Sam,” Aster said, waving him over. He’d finally managed to quiet the room. She quickly whispered the new plan to him, and he nodded slowly, seeming to think it over.
“That might just work,” he said. “Do you want me to put it to them?”
“No,” Aster muttered. She refused to be cowed by this group. “Let me finish this.”
Aster spoke up again, detailing this new offer to the group. Some still refused to look at her, but others showed undeniable interest, even excitement, at the mention of the theomite stash, their eyes lighting up like young boys’ at the prospect of a much-longed-after birthday present.
Once she finished speaking, Sam put it to a vote—and it passed, but only just.
The Sisters of Reckoning Page 13