Lightborn

by L J Andrews

  Inside was kept dim for a purpose. Years of living in the houses took its toll on the ladies, and it was better for sales if the Madonnas kept faces darkened and shrouded. Isa winced against the scent of sweat and vomit soaked in the tattered rugs along the floors. She shuddered that this was where she would make contact but kept hope she wouldn’t be alone when she met again with Joshua. Stubbornness ran through the family, so more likely Isa would meet Joshua with a blackened eye and she’d still be alone.

  Rounding the corner there was an open doorway with pink lace serving as a door, though it did little by way of privacy. The company in the room left a rancid taste on her tongue as she watched drunken sailors tug the house girls onto their laps. The ladies giggled and tickled sailors’ beards. Most of the patrons were drinking, kissing sloppily, and laughing. But others seemed none-too-concerned with more patrons in the room and moved lewdly in the corners of the room. Low paying customers, she thought, as she pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders. The elite and larger purse customers would be offered personal rooms.

  She took a step back, only to pause when the front entrance opened with the ding of a brass bell, and she caught a glimpse of a newcomer. The sailor from the scribe square. Isa sighed. Pity, he seemed such a decent sort. She swallowed her disappointment for a stranger as the sailor leaned toward the Madonna standing watch by a parchment lined desk. Isa tried not to, but she did wonder what sort of girl he’d request, if a girl at all. She knew little about him, and sailors were often accustomed to time with men.

  Shaking away the thoughts of a stranger she couldn’t seem to forget, Isa abandoned the erotic scene and disappeared into a second dark hallway. The house wasn’t large and when space ran out for rooms there were raised walkways on stilts that exited into small cabins. Isa pressed her ear against the private doors in the main house listening to the voices for any hint of familiarity. Nothing. Urgency racked in the back of her mind as she searched for the best way to reach the cabins. Over the top of the covered walkway, it was the only way.

  Holding her breath, Isa slipped through the door leading to a back porch where the walkways began. There were four extra dwellings, probably designed for the most sought-after girls. All of it a rouse to portray importance, for what good was a girl of the house if she wanted to leave?

  She checked the security of her shiv and knife before scaling one of the thick beams holding the slated cover that shielded the walkways from rain and sleet that sometimes fell. With quick steps Isa hobbled over the cover. She slipped once and fell to her knees. A wooden slate cracked and crumbled in a heap on the platform below. Isa sat motionless as she waited through a dozen rapid heartbeats for any hint someone heard. No one came, and the back lawn of the house remained undisturbed from its pleasure.

  Isa gathered the shawl, stepped carefully to avoid any more rotting slats, and finally came to one of the center cabins. The roofs were round with an opening in the center for smoke from small stoves to release. Isa peered into the cabin, but quickly reeled back. Did people really do those types of things? She lived in a guild of thieves and didn’t think herself naïve, but…she’d never…

  Isa scrubbed her face and focused again. Thankfully the first cabin was not the right one. She moved on. The second was dark and empty. Isa padded across a beam that connected a third by the rooftops. There was a breath of white smoke filtering through the hole. When she stepped on the mulched rooftop, the grass and mud gave slightly beneath her weight and she stepped closer for fear of caving in. The smoke through the opening in the roof brought a subtle aroma of citrus spice to the air. This could be the right cabin. Isa peered over the edge. The smoke wrapped around her lungs, but she remained to find any sign of life in the large room. A lantern’s glow was there, it must be occupied. She tugged off the shawl when the smoke combined with the dry scorch of Jershon air drenched her neck and scalp in sweat.

  Isa’s ears pricked to attention when the rustle of quilts and the rumble of low voices broke the night. With cautious movements, Isa took a chance and slid through the opening. Her toes brushed over a thick rafter and there she found her perch. Below, a woman with dark hair piled like a rounded nest on her head slid from the edge of a mattress. A man fastened a gold belt around his tunic and wrapped his thick arm around her slender waist. Isa’s nose wrinkled when he crushed his mouth over hers, tucked her dark hair behind her ear, and slapped her backside. The woman giggled and urged him out of her cabin door.

  Isa tucked back into the darkness of the upper room. She’d found the right cabin. From below the woman locked the door and slumped down in front of a meager vanity. Isa watched with curiosity as she unpinned her black hair with a genuine grin over her lips.

  With a glance to the stars as if they would offer some strength, Isa knew she was stalling the longer she waited. Drifting more into the gilded beams of light she peered from her high perch. With a deep breath and hard swallow, she slapped the side of a beam, so the woman jolted and peered up to the ceiling. “Hello, Lilian.”

  Isa’s older sister gasped and clutched her chest as she wheeled around. “Who are you?” She shuddered, but Isa found it disheartening that her sister wasn’t more afraid of an intruder in her room.

  Taking deliberate steps along the beam so it was more like floating than walking, she crouched before swinging down from the rafter, and landing on her feet in the center of the room. “I need to speak with you.”

  Lilian peered through narrowed slits when Isa stepped closer. Her sister had hazel eyes and browner skin. She was a true Jershon, and Isa was the consequence of unspoken betrayal. Isa had always envied her sister’s deeper skin color. Lilian scanned Isa’s powdered light complexion, her plain clothes, but stopped when she met her eye directly. It only took a moment. “Isabelle?”

  Isa nodded. “Lilian, I need to know where the military officers spend their time.”

  “You need to know about the military.” Lilian’s voice was flat, and her shoulders slumped as she rose from the stool.

  “You know the city and the changes since the siege—”

  “Where do the officers frequent. No ‘Hello, dear sister it’s been years since we last spoke.’ No, ‘I’ve missed you, tell me, how is your life?’ No, ‘I’m alive, but need your help.’ You come here in your pitiful disguise and demand information as though we are not blood.” Lilian stomped back to the vanity and continued peeling back the false jewels and gaudy makeup. “Wonderful talk, Isabelle, but I find I’m quite tired and don’t have much to say tonight.”

  Isa rolled her eyes. Her neck flushed in heat and she had the desire to pull Lilian’s long hair as they’d done as children. She flicked her fingers several times through the distant rumble of thunder until the swell of frustration soothed. “I’m sorry.” Lilian huffed. Isa knelt next to the stool and rested a hand on Lilian’s knee. “Lil, I am. I’ve returned only to serve my guild, but I should have taken a moment to greet my older sister properly. Come on, Lily, don’t pretend you aren’t a little happy to see me. Just a little.”

  Isa tickled her fingers along Lilian’s arms until the twitch of a grin tugged at her sister’s lips. “Stop.” Lilian chuckled and brushed her away. “It is good to see you Isa. Though I wish you would stay instead of living with those heathens in the forest. There’s plenty of work here.”

  Isa laughed as she stood and scanned the room. “I don’t think you can call my guild heathens when you live in a slum.”

  Lilian narrowed her eyes. “I am not a street worker. I work for the honored Skoka name. I earn my way with an honest wage.”

  “What makes a red house different than a slum?”

  “Why should I tell you? No matter what I say, you’ll always think yourself better than me, Isabelle. You always have. You mastered with the Shen, you succeeded in the arts, you loved religion and the gods most. Even though you were a constant reminder of father’s wanderings somehow, mother and father always made you the better one.”

  Like a kni
fe to the heart, her sister’s words ached. “Lilian, that isn’t true.” Isa sighed and dragged a hand through her hair. “You know I couldn’t stay after father’s death because of where I came from. I didn’t come to compete our woes, but you are welcome in Jershon. I am not.”

  Lilian scoffed. “Welcome? Where did we once dine, Isa? Where are my silk dresses? Where is my gold? I have nothing! I’ve worked and slaved for my position today.”

  Isa’s mouth tightened. “You spent your inheritance?”

  “What do you think, Isa? I had to eat. I had hoped as sisters we could work together, but of course, I was abandoned by the last family I had.”

  A grumble burned the back of Isa’s throat as a few drops of rain spilled through the hole in the rooftop. “I didn’t aban…you know what, it doesn’t matter. I just wish I would have known everything was gone.”

  “What’s the difference. You gave all yours to that odious guild. Tell me, how did all the men spend your legacy? On women, or herbs?”

  Isa rubbed the sides of her head. She was a terrible liar to family and didn’t want to speak about this anymore. “Lily let’s not hurt each other with the past. I’m sorry. Truly, I should have been there for you.” Except she would have been killed if she’d stayed. “And I’m sincerely asking about this place. I want to make sure you’re alright and no one…takes advantage of you.”

  “I’m fine. Madonna Skoka is respected. This is not my house any longer anyway. I’ve been moved to the noble house. Emperor Baz has created fine dwellings that are safe, and respected. These are where your military officers frequent, if you must know. I’m happy, Isa, I even have a lover. Tell me Sister, do any scoundrels that thieve and writhe in dishonesty seek your favor?”

  Isa rolled her eyes and crossed her legs under her body. “That man just here, is he your so-called lover?”

  Lilian’s cheeks shaded darker and her mouth tightened until the blood drained. “Jakai cares for me and plans to marry me when I’ve paid my dues to Madonna Skoka. You are still so high and mighty, Isa. You may think me a common whore, but even the general invited me to his table just last week.”

  Isa’s eyes widened and she gripped Lilian’s shoulder a little too hard. “You know General Kawal.”

  Lilian shoved out of her sister’s hold and glared. “Yes, in a way.”

  Isa knelt at Lilian’s feet and folded her fingers together. “Lil, I must ask you to put our differences aside for a moment. Is there a way you could help me gain an audience with the general?”

  Lilian took a deep breath, but her gaze softened. “What for, Isabelle?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “Then I can’t help you.”

  “Please, Lilian.”

  “If it is so desperate, then I deserve to know why.”

  The sisters met at a crossroads. The family stubbornness was in full bloom, but Isa would always concede in most cases out of respect for the position her sister once had in their family. “Fine. I have come to barter and trade with the general for a personal artifact of interest to my master. You must understand how difficult it is for a woman to seek a personal audience. Perhaps if you recommended—”

  “I have dined at his table, but only as escort with Jakai.” Isa sighed, unable to hide her disappointment. Coming was a waste, and only added to the thorn permanently pierced in her heart for her sister’s lot in life. “Although, it’s possible,” Lilian whispered at her own reflection. “It could still be possible to introduce the two of you.”

  Isa’s spirits shot through the wooden ceiling. “How?”

  “Kawal’s bride,” Lilian said. “She has been wed to the man not even for a full year, but Kawal seems determined to school her on the ways of Jershon and nobility. She is Zaharan, you see.”

  “How could he marry her?”

  Lilian seemed hesitant to say but continued through a sigh. “I suppose one positive of Baz overtaking Jershon is the emperor wishes to rid the status of halflings because he plans to overthrow all empires. At least that is what Jakai said.”

  “So, what good does that do for me?”

  Lilian leaned against the vanity edge and threaded a bone comb through her hair. “Jakai wants favor from the general; he wishes to earn a lieutenant’s sword. He could present you as a noble tutor for Kawal’s wife. Such an interview would give you time to converse with the general. Each tutor is passed in front of Kawal.”

  “Each? How many tutors has the woman had?”

  Lilian chuckled. “At least seven. It seems the general’s lady isn’t keen to open her heart to her husband and finds ways to disappoint him. There is always payment offered for a tutor hired, perhaps you could negotiate then. Of course, you would stay and fulfill the duty or Jakai would be shamed.”

  Isa scoffed. “I can respect a bride who stands against such a man and might stay to tutor her out of awe.”

  “You shouldn’t speak such things. Kawal is second only to Baz and if he detects any hint of disdain, you would be placed on the next transport ship to the Ice Mines.” Lilian stopped combing and met Isa’s eye with a serious gaze. “Even if Baz sees a benefit with halflings, times for mixes are still dangerous. Some continue to believe the old ways. Tread carefully, Isa.”

  Isa shook her head and flopped back on Lilian’s hard mattress. The quilt smelled of sweat with a hint of lavender. “I’ll never understand how having two bloods would mean evil.”

  “I know different only because you are my sister,” Lilian admitted. “Some firmly believe such mixing creates shattered rays. You know as well as I, Emperor Mal of the Shattering War was rumored to have rays like the night.”

  “No one knows for sure if Mal was a halfling or had shattered rays. That was centuries ago.”

  “Yes, but what of the entire empire of Corian today? Most of the slaves traded out from Corian are halflings, so the people must mix with different empires. Perhaps even Sha’run is one himself. He does have a liking for blood no matter what empire it comes from; no one with rays from the Mount would do such horrible things as Sha’run. And you do have a unique voice from within, Isabelle.”

  “You only say that because father often did.”

  Lilian shrugged. “He was right.”

  Isa didn’t agree. She didn’t believe in rays or Lightborn anymore, but even if she did, she certainly didn’t feel shattered simply because of mixed blood. Corian Empire’s lust for blood came from inner darkness, not because many of their people were halflings. It was a pity the small minds of the land couldn’t escape from old beliefs.

  “So, what do you think?” Lilian asked after a long pause. “About becoming a tutor. Of course, no favors come without a price Isa. I wish I were in a position to barter from the goodness of my heart, but as I said—I must eat too, sister.”

  The idea mulled in my mind. It had merit, though despite what Lilian desired, Isa would never stay to tutor some snobbish noblewoman. All she needed to do was get close to Kawal and hope she’d soon understand the purpose of the run. There were ways to convince a mind to do as Isa wanted, and she was confident she could manipulate the general despite word of his cunning.

  After thick silence settled around the two sisters, Isa grinned and nodded. “Alright, Lilian. If you’ll help me set the meet, I vow to pay off your house debt.”

  Lilian’s eyes shaded to gold as tears welled and dripped over her dark lashes. “You…you would do that? How?”

  “I have a way. You wish to be with this Jakai?” Lilian nodded. “Then I wish for you to be happy and free. You are my sister, after all.”

  Lilian grinned. “It seems your thieving has paid off, Isabelle. Agreed. Now, we need to do something with that hair if you are to meet Kawal.”

  “No, you’re not dressing me up like we’re children again.”

  Lilian’s grin curled at the corners of her mouth with mischief. “Oh, Isa, I am. You’ve been deprived of my talents for too long living with those dirty men and thieves. By the time I’m finished wi
th you, no one would dare question who you are trying to be.”

  Chapter 16

  Agnus

  Roark had hope he’d find her, though he wished it wasn’t in such a place as the house. The burning aroma of stale meat and flat ale churned his insides like the frothy tide as he trudged behind the madonna. He’d hoped the woman would be Skoka herself. Madonna Skoka might trade bodies for money, but since the siege, regulations had lifted off Skoka’s business. The woman had connections in the dark hovels of Sortis that no one else would have.

  Sortis whispered of her deals with the trappers, and the trail he’d been tracking ended here. If Roark didn’t find the girl in the musty, underbelly of society he feared she would be lost to the cruelty of the Bloodlands.

  The madonna limping down the spiraling stone steps might not be Skoka, but after Roark’s visit to the Vagrant Village, a dirty drunkard had told many tales of Eep. She had a reputation and was a rising star in the management of Skoka’s red houses. Madonna Eep had taken trade from trappers around the time he’d been fighting in Lord Tama’s ring. From the madonna’s description of her new merchandise, Roark had to believe she was here.

  “She hasn’t been properly prepared yet, good sir,” Madonna Eep said as they turned down a set of winding stone steps.

  “What are you talking about, woman?” Roark knew from his time in the Cy Cliffs masculine indifference went far in the girls’ houses of the Bloodlands. Meek, tender voices were suspicious.

  She huffed and gathered her purple taffeta skirt as they stepped over a stagnant puddle of murky water. “Training, sir. This house provides only the best, quality experience.” Roark held in the dark chuckle. It would be absurd to think this place valued anything related to quality. “New girls are given a dark time where they will be schooled on expectations. You cannot expect to pay less if her ability is not up to your expectations, you understand?

  Roark folded his arms over his chest and towered over the madonna outside a splintered wooden door. “Madonna,” he said. “If you provide the product, I’ll provide the coin.”