Dust: A Bloods Book

by Andra Leigh

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she huffed indignantly, smoothing the skirts of her – apparently unbecoming – dress down.

  If it had been anyone else daring to handle her like that she would have stuck them in a cell for a day or two to teach them a lesson. Cathrainra was different. There was a no nonsense air to her that Acanthea had never felt comfortable attempting to control. To this day, Cathrainra was the only one, other than her Mother, who had ever given her any form of parenting. Even if it wasn’t necessarily her maids place, Acanthea had never tried to stop her. It wasn’t like the Reigner was jumping up and down to take the position and a mothering maid was better than a lot of the other maids she could be stuck with.

  “Now you needa listen to me, Girl,” Cathrainra ordered. “Are ya listenin’?”

  “Intently,” she drawled, earning herself a sharp clip around the ear. “Ow. Well now I’m listening intently to a ringing in my ears.”

  “This ain’t a game, Girl. And ya will not treat it as such.” Cathrainra was speaking faster than normal.

  Plastering an exaggerated wistful look on her face, she sighed, “No one ever wants to play games with me.”

  Her other ear received a slap.

  “People are being taken,” Cathrainra hissed. “Special people are bein’ stolen. Not just to die. They take them somewhere. They took ma boy.”

  “Huh. What boy?” Clearly her maid had cracked. Never once in the nine years Cathrainra had cared for her had she ever mentioned a boy, let alone one she referred to as hers.

  “He was just a boy,” the woman’s voice hitched, “but he’d be a man now. Grown. Married maybe. With children of his own. Children who would be taken too. It’s in the blood, see. It’s still in the blood. Still.” She grabbed Acanthea, forcing her to pay attention. “Found that out after. Snooping and the like. Not a modest activity but there ain’t nothing a Ma won’t do. So I snooped. Then there ya were. So young, so sad. Motherless. And me, a Ma, childless. I knew I weren’t leaving ya. Not with that man as a Da. He took my boy, see. Ya don’t become him. Ya hear me, Girl!” She was all but shaking Acanthea now, her fingertips digging into her shoulders. “Ya don’t become him. He is a terrible sort’a man. You remember that and ya don’t let him corrupt ya mind.”

  Acanthea stared at the heavyset woman blankly. Despite what Cathrainra had said, this was beginning to feel like a game. Before she could come up with a response Cathrainra was holding onto her head, ensuring she was looking at her, paying her attention.

  “There is right. And there is wrong,” she stressed. “Everythin’ is either one or the other. Nothin’, nothin’ can be both, see. Ya hear me, Girl?”

  Acanthea bobbed her head as much as Cathrainra’s constraining hands would allow, sensing that if she shook her head she would be subjected to another strange rant.

  “Good girl.” A satisfied Cathrainra nodded. “Ya’a good girl. I believe that, I do. Now get ta bed with ya.”

  Shocked at the sudden dismissal, Acanthea allowed herself to be bustled back out to the corridor just as abruptly as she had been pulled from it.

  Blinking in a daze, she considered how much she preferred the sane Cathrainra to the unhinged one that had just accosted her. Continuing on to her quarters, Acanthea could only hope her maid would be back to her old self by morning.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A Lesson in Home

  • Eliscity •

  Someone was in her room.

  She could sense it.

  The feeling pulled her rapidly out of slumber and she became immediately alert. Sitting bolt up in bed she found the shadowy figure instantly.

  Pulse racing, her fingers automatically stiffened around her pillow – the most useless weapon ever. She cursed herself for ending up in the exact position she had imagined her first night at the Manor. Would it have been so difficult to find a solid, potentially threatening weapon of some sort to have by her bed in the weeks she had been here? But she’d gotten comfortable. Had decided she was safe. And now she was about to try to intimidate an attacker with a pillow.

  Desperate not to sink to such a pathetic defence she searched her mind for any other plan of attack. But her mind was stuck on one unfortunate fact.

  The dark shadow stood between her and the door.

  She was trapped.

  Then the silhouette stepped forward and she huffed in both relief and irritation. Realising she wasn’t about to be killed, the heaviness of sleep barrelled into her once more and she flopped back down, dragging her blankets up over her head.

  “What are you doing?” Jinx’s voice asked through her covers.

  “Ignoring you,” she rasped. “What are you doing?”

  “Got back last night. I train each morning before everyone’s up. So come on, time to turn you into my back up.”

  Eliscity chose not to dignify that with an answer.

  “Oi, Angel.” She felt her mattress bounce violently under her. “You said you wanted to learn to fight. Well, teaching time’s now.”

  “Nope,” she mumbled into her pillow.

  The bouncing stopped.

  “Why not?” came his genuinely confused reply.

  “‘Cause I’m mad at you, fool.”

  “Oh.” Jinx exhaled. “Well then. Great. Get dressed, meet me in the Playground and I’ll teach you how to punch me in the face so hard my teeth will rattle.”

  Silence.

  Little by little she drew the covers away from her face and glared at him. “That does sound inviting.”

  Jinx grinned, heading for her door. “You’re not the first person to feel that way.”

  “Nor will I be the last,” she yawned.

  Ten minutes later a bleary eyed Eliscity was dressed and standing in the middle of the Playground. A wide awake Jinx stood in front of her.

  “You said I’d be allowed to punch you,” she whined.

  “No, I said I’d teach you how to punch me. And while it’s not difficult to make a fist and hit someone, it is slightly more challenging to do so in a manner that inflicts maximum damage to the enemy and minimal damage to your fist.”

  Eliscity glowered at him. “You don’t even care that I’m mad at you, do you?”

  “Do you want to learn to fight or not?” Jinx offered as an answer.

  She waved her hands as an indication that he should proceed.

  “Alright.” Jinx took her through a few warm up stretches, before planting himself squarely in front of her to demonstrate some good fighting stances. “Since you’ll likely be shorter than most attackers you should use that to your advance. Keep even lower, it presents a smaller and more difficult target.” He showed her a stance that achieved this.

  She held the position for barely a moment before dropping it. “Do you really not want to know why I’m mad at you?”

  “Fine,” he sighed, exasperated. “Why are you mad at me, Angel?”

  She threw up her hands in frustration. “I’m not telling,” she cried. “You officially don’t get to know.”

  Jinx blinked slowly, completely mystified. “They really did turn the lightning up too high on you, didn’t they? Anyway… er, the stance, right. Keep your centre of balance moving, makes it harder for someone to offset you. So, space your feet apart – more like this – and place your weight low. What now?” he groaned when she didn’t move.

  She pulled a face at him, like it should be obvious. “I’m extra mad at you because you don’t care that I’m mad at you.”

  “Okay, hold on,” Jinx frowned, still in his fighting stance. “You’re mad at me for not caring about something you apparently aren’t going to tell me about anyway?”

  “Apparently so,” Eliscity said, realising the absurd situation she had created.

  “Okay then.” His expression was stuck between confused and amused. “Since we’re not getting anywhere with this whole physical fighting thing and you don’t want to tell me the problem – ”

  “You don’t want to hear the pr
oblem!”

  “ – would you like me to guess?”

  “Ha,” she snorted. “Go on then, guess.”

  Finally dropping his fighting stance, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’re mad at how I treated your hope to remember your past.”

  “Is that a guess?” she drawled. “Or did you figure that out a week ago and haven’t yet completed the final draft of your apology letter.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, not going to be apologising for something I believe.”

  “Can I punch you now? I’m just going to punch you now.” She smiled sweetly at him through gritted teeth.

  “Fine. Go ahead.”

  Mad that he had given her permission and hadn’t even bothered to take his hands out of his pockets she cocked back her elbow and slammed her fist forward, wincing at the impact that never came.

  He’d dodged her blow. Easily.

  “Wha – that’s not fair. You’re not allowed to move.”

  “I’m sure that same argument will work on your enemies. But how about we pretend for a second that the people you end up in a fight with aren’t aware of your wonderful rules or don’t care to listen to them. Shall we return to the stance?” Jinx nodded, taking up his fighting stance again.

  “Only if you tell me what happened.”

  Sighing, he slumped back out of the fighting stance. “What happened when?”

  “When you went home.”

  “Wrethic. I went to Wrethic, Angel. I’m home right now.” Jinx looked like he was concerned that she had dropped herself on her head while he’d been gone.

  Resisting the urge to try punching him again, she clarified, “Your old home, from before the Clinic. I know you went home.”

  There are silences that are comfortable and silences that are awkward. Then there are silences so steeped in heavy rage that the urge to run and hide is overwhelming. Seconds into the silence that fell at her words, Eliscity was ready to bolt for the water tunnels. Jinx was angry. Beyond angry. His nostrils flared and fiery eyes flashed in quiet fury.

  “I didn’t go there to return home,” his voice was dangerously low. “And I will not talk about this.”

  Jaw clenched, Eliscity inclined her head. Staring him straight in the eye, a contact Jinx couldn’t maintain, she deliberately shifted her body into the fighting stance he had shown her. She was holding the pose a few moments before Jinx relaxed into his own. Eliscity considered the bizarre realisation of how the man before her looked more at ease while preparing to fight than at any other time. It made her sad. Learning to fight was one thing – something she considered to be an intelligent idea given her status as an assumed-deceased-fugitive – but to permit it to become something she was innately comfortable with was something else completely.

  She waited for Jinx to continue with the lesson, prepared to bite her tongue.

  It didn’t happen.

  “Home is where you make it,” Jinx sulked.

  Eliscity threw up her hands. “Maybe I don’t want to make home. Maybe I just want to go home.” That was all she allowed herself to say, hoping Jinx would finally understand that she wasn’t the same as him.

  “Then you’re stupid,” he spat.

  Apparently, understanding wasn’t going to be the redeeming quality of the day.

  “Naïve.” His head shook in disappointment. “Not only is that an absurd dream, it’s an impossible reality. You’re never going to go home, Angel. Not to your family. You’re never going to get married or make a family of your own. You’re not going to grow old sitting in your own house. You can’t even tell people outside of this Manor about your life.”

  Jinx’s entire body was rigid, the muscles in his neck knotted and taut.

  Screw biting her tongue.

  “You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I’m aware of what my life is? I’m aware! I’m bloody well aware, Jinx.” Her voice was rising. “I’m so aware that I’m unwilling to give up any – any – chance at answers and a little bit of happiness. However fleeting it may be. I’m prepared for my family to be dead or horrible people or… I’m prepared. You don’t get it. You’re… blind. I’m prepared for home not to be home anymore. I just need to know it. Even if there’s nothing there for me anymore. I want to go home because even if that life isn’t mine anymore, it’s still part of who I am. No matter what you say. I’m not just what the Clinic made me. And no matter how much you run from it, neither are you. For crying out loud, you don’t even know what the Clinic made you!” She was yelling now. “You know what, screw you Jinx. All I wanted to do was understand why you went home and why you didn’t stay. What you’re doing, telling me my hopes are stupid, that’s something I would never do to you. I’m more interested in figuring out why you feel certain ways so I can understand, rather than judging you for it. You remember home. I don’t. Obviously you believe that to be a blessing. But I don’t feel that way. Maybe one day I will. But for now, I’m going to keep up with my absurd dreaming of an impossible reality.”

  Eliscity was breathing hard. So far, learning to fight was proving to be a strenuous task and she was yet to throw a second punch. Assuming they were done with this particular lesson, perhaps even any future lessons, she dusted her sweaty palms off on her shirt and spun around.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back to bed.”

  “I thought you wanted to learn to fight?”

  Halting in her tracks, she twisted around looking for any trace of humour in Jinx’s eyes. They were serious with a hint of genuine confusion. Apparently screaming insults at him wasn’t enough to warrant a postponement on the lesson.

  “Were you not a participant in that argument just then?”

  “Did it have anything to do with learning to fight?”

  “I – no…”

  “So why should it stop the lesson?”

  Eliscity desperately wanted to marvel at his capacity to keep things separate in his mind, but she was far too concerned about his inability to be affected by emotions. She knew he was mad at her, that he hadn’t agreed with anything she had been yelling, yet he had no issue with switching from that anger into a neutral teaching mode. It only served in irritating her further.

  “You’re damaged. Congratulations, you’re completely and utterly mad.”

  He shrugged. “I’m okay with that.”

  Spoken like a man not prone to seeing phantom hands and hearing voices, Eliscity thought bitterly.

  “Fine,” she muttered, planting herself firmly in front of him again. “Fine, teach me how to punch you in the face.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Searching Reigness

  • Acanthea •

  “Who are you?” Acanthea demanded loudly.

  The small, young woman visibly shook, her knobbly fingers trying in vain to smooth down the ruffles in her crisp, new uniform. “Y-your new maid, Gentle Reigness.”

  “Cathrainra is my maid, you imbecile,” she snapped back. “Where is Cathrainra?”

  “Miss Eddwist has g-gone, Reigness.”

  “Who the Bloods is Miss Eddwist?” Acanthea screeched, not caring about this woman’s tangents.

  The maid blinked, slack jawed with confusion. “Your former maid, Mis– er, Reigness.”

  “Hmph, really?” If Acanthea had ever heard Cathrainra’s family name, she had clearly chosen to not retain it. “What’s this former maid talk? There’s nothing former about Cathrainra. She’s very much my present maid.” Acanthea didn’t add that when Cathrainra found out this mouse of a woman dared impersonate her place in the palace, she would skin her alive. She thought that would be more amusing left as a surprise.

  “Speak,” Acanthea barked, causing the maid to jump, the ruffles on the uniform billowing out foolishly, making her look like an oversized bird. The uniform never looked that ridiculous on Cathrainra.

  “I know n-nothing more, Reigness. Honest. At dawn I was given a new uniform with a letter signed by t-the Reigner, telling me to report for du
ty as your personal maid. Nothing more, Reigness.”

  Acanthea’s eyes narrowed. “Signed by the Reigner. You’re sure?”

  “Signed and stamped.” The maid nodded vigorously, relieved Acanthea had clearly started to believe her.

  Acanthea’s lips pinched together as she looked the woman up and down. Personal maids to Reigning family members were all dressed in a different uniform to the other maids of the palace, to identify their rank within the help. More than that, the uniforms were tailored to fit them exactly. It was important for them to be as tidy and presentable as possible, since they were often seen with their charges. While the uniform the nervous maid in front of her wore was accurate in sizing, Acanthea could see it hadn’t been tailored to her. The shoulders were slightly loose, the waist pinched low and the skirts touched the ground unevenly. Definitely not presentable.

  Acanthea knew a rushed find when she saw one.

  What the Bloods was going on here? Where was Cathrainra?

  The strangeness at the banquet aside, there was no reason why her maid should not be here. She had never missed a day. Not in nine years. There was yet to be an illness that could stop the woman. Acanthea suspected that not even death would keep her from performing her duties.

  Tossing her blankets off, she decided she wouldn’t be entertaining this absurd situation any longer. The frightened maid squeaked as she stormed across her chambers, but was smart enough to know not to speak. Of course, Cathrainra would have demanded to know where Acanthea was going. And then would have told her off for going about it so loudly. She wasn’t like other maids.

  Acanthea marched through the palace’s corridors, her nightgown snapping around her calves at the brisk pace. The maid was trailing behind her like a wounded puppy. She made it to the Reigner’s chambers in record time – because for once she wasn’t trying to put it off. Ignoring the posted guards outside, who weren’t sure how to respond to her unprecedented appearance, she flung the door open and stalked into the private bedchambers.