by Holly Chavez
I consider remaining outside to wait. The risk of getting caught by someone outside our organization is low, but with the mess I’ve made tonight, I can’t afford to make even the smallest of errors.
The windows on this warehouse are higher than the average windows on a home, but they are my only chance of getting inside. The doors are solid metal and I’m not looking for the kind of attention that slamming into them would grant. Besides I would only be doing more damage to my already battered body. I just wish I had the foresight to grab my key.
The base of the window sill is at chin level. Searching the area, I spy a couple of old crates by the side of another warehouse. They are not very tall, but I only need a foot of assistance to get me high enough to where I can break the window without injuring myself further. I test them out first to make sure they’re stable enough to hold a little weight by applying pressure with my foot and take the best two. Setting them below the window, one beneath the other, I brace myself against the wall using my hands to give me balance. I’ll be lucky if they don’t collapse underneath me.
Feet steadily planted on the top crate, my rib cage is now level with the window. The inside of the building looks dark and empty. Breaking the window with my elbow, I curse myself again for not grabbing the key before jumping from my bedroom window. Not that I had time to do such a thing, but it certainly would have made this a bit easier. I remove my now shredded cloak in a quick sweep, promising to burn it later to forget this awful night, and place it over the shards of glass gleaming up at me.
Being careful with my ankle and ribs, I hoist myself up with my gloved hands and pull myself through the opening. My side hurts as it slides past the concrete. I turn to maneuver my feet through the other side and I can’t keep the sob of agony down. Stopping midway through the window, I take a few breaths to try and breathe through the agony. It doesn’t help, the pain is too intense. Deciding just to push through, I lower myself back down; my feet landing tentatively on the other side confirming solid ground before I risk letting go.
Oh, what I would give for some pain killer.
My feet buckle beneath me and I allow myself to slide down the wall to wait. My hands clutching my side, nearly nauseas from the pain. Little black dots dance in my vision but I fight them with everything I have. I will not pass out. The only good thing is the stabbing ache in my ribs makes the pain in my ankle practically none existent.
I don’t know how long I wait, it feels like forever. I didn’t move from my spot on the floor, taking advantage of the brief reprieve. When I hear the click of the lock release on the door, I swear I’ve never heard anything sweeter. I just barely stop myself from calling out when I realize there’s a problem.
The person who walks in isn’t Fernando, I tense, unsure what to do. He could be anyone. My body can’t handle another fight today, I need at least a day or two to rest and recover or at least get pain medicine. Whoever came in hasn’t seen me yet. I consider trying to escape through the same window I just came through, but even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could manage it again. Certainly not without the crates on this side to give me a boost. So I sit quietly, hoping beyond hope I’m somehow overlooked, that whoever this person is isn’t a threat. My hand is on the knife at my waist, ready to pull it if I have to.
“Daughter of the Shadow?” He whispers. “I was sent here by the Father of the Moon.” Relief overwhelms me at the sound of our secret nicknames for each other, Fernando must have sent one of his men.
“Here!” I call out, eagerly waving my hand in the air to get his attention. I regret it a second later when I feel like someone kicked me in the ribs. I wince and put my hand down. He approaches me, but stays well enough back. I’m ready with my knife just in case it’s a trick. I’ve rarely met other members of the Underground and only to swap information when Fernando can’t make it. “Where is the Father of the Moon?”
“He wanted me to make sure this wasn’t a trap.” Smart man. He’s instilled some of that paranoia in me. “I’ll signal him.” He steps back towards the door. I can’t see what he does, but when he comes back in, he doesn’t attempt to come closer. He only says, “He’ll be here soon.” Then he leaves me alone with the door open.
About a minute later a familiar form enters the room. “I’m over here.” I quietly call out, not willing to make the same mistake of waving my arms in the air.
“Are you alright?” He slowly makes his way toward me. I rise to meet him but keep myself against the wall for support.
“No, I think I broke a few ribs and oh… I’ve messed up.”
“What happened? Is Erik dead?” I’d nearly forgotten about Erik in all of my own personal drama. “No, he’s still alive, but I have something more to tell you.”
“He’s alive?!” His face was a mix of anger and surprise, but I can’t focus on it right now, not when I have something much worse and far more important to tell him.
“Yes, but you must listen! My maid, Margery, she knows who I am. She found my things hidden in my room and saw me dressed this way.” He stops his pacing and stares right at me.
“You didn’t end her?”
“No, I… she was in my room! I couldn’t kill her there.”
“Quickly, tell me everything that occurred between you and your maid.” I do and I can tell my mentor is more than a little unhappy with me.
“My god Izabel… have you manage to unravel everything in a single night?” My eyes start to burn with unshed tears.
“I’ll make it right!”
“Can you?”
“I can! I will!” I move away from the wall and closer to his side; his disappointment is worse than a knife in my side, worse than the pain of my ribs.
“I hope so.” He appears to calm now, but I think it’s just a facade. “If not, then your father wins. Will you let him?”
“Never.”
“Then kill the maid! Kill whoever she told. Do it tonight. Tomorrow you will meet with me and we will discuss Erik and come prepared to tell me everything. I’ll need to come up with a new plan.” He looks away from me as he says the last part. He seems lost in thought and somewhat nervous. I hope I haven’t caused him a problem we can’t fix. He turns back to me and his anger is back in place, masking whatever emotions I thought I saw before. “Don’t mess this up. Prove to me you want to break the chains of your family! Show me how you plan to avenge your mother!”
“I swear to you, I won’t fail. Not again. Not ever!”
“Good. Go paint the streets red and don’t stop until you’re done! Let them know what it means to cross the Girl of Shadow!”
I scramble to leave, the force of his anger pushing me forward. I ignore the pain. I ignore everything, but the mission.
Chapter 34
DARICK
“The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury.”
-Marcus Aurelius
~~~
On the walk back to The Boss’s home, I try to think of a good way to start the conversation. “Izabel… Izzy, I have your necklace…” That just sounds dumb. I try again. “Two of your father’s men were attacked tonight, thank the Way they weren’t hurt, but somehow your necklace was found at the scene…?” No, that’s even worse. “Huhhh.”
Cutting back a different way, I pass one run down building after another; many of them empty and have been for a long time. Squatters are practically extinct, having been eradicated long ago when citizens had to register themselves. Occasionally raids still occur, but hardly a soul is found, making it hard to justify them. Still, it doesn’t mean the buildings are empty; plenty of late night meetings occur in the dead of night and empty buildings are the perfect place to hide important things for a short period of time. It’s likely some faction of Liberty is utilizing them tonight for some purpose or other.
Though it may not be perfectly safe, I keep my weapons sheathed. Anyone out this late at night is not interested in running into another soul and a weapon would only bring attention
to myself.
Having given up on trying to find the right way to approach Izabel and deciding just to wing it, I find myself at her door way too soon, feeling very unsure of myself. I’m met with a guard, but I should have expected his presence.
Her guard, a newly made man, but with very impressive skills in hand to hand combat, stands against the opposite wall to her door at attention, looking very formidable. I have personally witnessed his skill firsthand and would prefer to avoid a confrontation. I’ll need to keep myself and Izabel in check.
What I really want to do is pace outside her door for a moment or two so I can think, but the action will make me appear weak and indecisive. So acknowledging the guard, Micah, with a nod I make for her door. With my hand posed to knock, I hear a cry, assuming something has happened, I barge in, searching the room for something unusual.
My eyes land on the maid, Margery, a short sword in her hand and she’s standing amongst a pile of things that I’m sure were never supposed to be found given the pulled up floor board behind her. I take it all in quickly, no longer surprised by what I find; the biggest surprise having already reveled its self for the night.
Unfortunately, having been alerted to the same cry as I, Micah, is also in the room, sword ready, taking everything in and he’s not a stupid guy, leaving me with only one choice; a terrible choice.
“Micah, let me see your sword.”
He passes it to me without question. Probably assuming I need it against Margery who is carrying a weapon, but not having time to consider I have my own weapons and have no need for his. With great regret, I stab the sword through his chest to his heart. He falls to his knees and luckily Margery stays completely silent in evident shock.
“Margery, drop the weapon and shut the door.” Her weapons drops with a clang as it bounces around for a moment before settling next to her feet.
“I won’t tell anyone about this I swear; any of this.” Her hand moved to indicate the entirety of the room, her frame visibly shaking from fear, but she goes to shut the door, gingerly avoiding the body, just as I requested. “No one, but you needs to know I was here.”
“Margery shut up and let me think.” She appears to calm a bit which is good. I need to figure out my next step and her hysteria is too much for me to deal with right now, especially after killing one of my men. “I need you to get yourself under control, can you do that?” She just nodded at me. “Good, go find Daytin.” She seems startled when she hears his name, but already knowing her reasoning and I ignore it. Instead, I grab a piece of paper to write his address on. “He’s in the barracks. This is his room number. He might be asleep, so just knock until he opens. If someone wants to know why you’re there just make up something.” I hand her the slip of paper. “Have him come directly here. Don’t say a word to anyone. Straight to him and back. Got it?”
“Yes.” She slips out the door, leaving me to hope she will do as I asked.
I shut off the music playing in the background and begin the task ahead of me. Placing each item back beneath the floor, I admire Izabel’s choice in weapons and poisons. Recognizing the labels on the poisons, I know they are rare finds, some I have only heard of but never seen. Her connections must be something else. Thinking along those lines leads me to wonder how many people know the truth about her and is she in danger because of it? Or do they only know her in a single role? The complexity of it must be exhausting, but probably nothing worse than what I have to deal with. Still, it bothers me. How many people know the real Izabel?
When we finally get a chance, I’ll have to ask her and hope she’ll be willing to divulge everything. I have a feeling I’ll need to do the same and yet I have to be careful because so many lives are in my hands and a very important end game is still at stake. She probably has people she’s protecting. Guhhh! It’s all so complicated and I don’t want us to have to tiptoe around each other. Somehow we will have to find a way to trust each other.
I eye Micah and then the bed, throwing all of Izabel’s pillows to the ground, I take the bedding off and set it on the floor by Micah’s body. Pulling him under the arms, I manage to get him on the bedding then I wrap him up in it. Taking a pitcher of water from the vanity and a wash cloth, I begin cleaning up the mess while I wait for Margery to return with Daytin.
Starting on the streak of blood, the result of dragging the body, I quickly realize I need more water. My hands stained pink and the water already a violent red, I’m making little progress, mostly just smearing it around. The thick smell of blood filling the room, making it even more difficult to mask the tragedy that just took place. I get up to open all the windows, careful to avoid leaving pink finger prints. I go back to work on the floor.
At the sound of the door opening, I look up from the place I’m kneeling from on the floor. Daytin comes in first, followed by Margery who quickly shuts the door again. “What the hell happened here?”
“Look, I’ll have to explain it all to you later but right now is not the time. I need you both to help me get this place cleaned up and then, Daytin, we need to find something to do with the body.” I indicate the clump in the rolled up blankets. Daytin doesn’t question me further, but I hear his whispered curse and though Margery looks somewhat lost, she jumps on board too, leaving us to get more water.
“Did she say anything to you?”
“No. Just that you wanted to see me right away.”
“Thanks for coming. I’m sorry for pulling you out of bed, I know you must be tired.”
“Don’t worry about…” He examines the bedding for a moment. “I think I know how to get rid of the body in a way that’s convenient for everyone.” He announces. Thank the Way. I hadn’t come up with an idea yet.
Chapter 35
MARGERY
“Thinking will not overcome fear but action will.”
-W. Clement Stone
~~~
I try not to appear over eager when the Enforcer asks me to bring more water, I slip out the door, shutting it without a sound except for my sigh of relief. The whole thing back in there is just too weird. Darick’s reaction… I was certain he was going to kill me, but then he turned on his own guard without hesitation. He seemed so calm and so in control it was unnerving and I was certain I’d be next.
When he had me fetch Daytin some of my building anxiety faded. I could count on him protecting me from Darick because we are both apart of Liberty. I didn’t tell him why Darick needed him and he didn’t bother with too many questions, there were too many people outside in the halls to risk such a conversation. Then I watched how they were together. How familiar they were with each other; they seemed like friends, really good friends. Then I wasn’t so sure I could count on Daytin; unless his behavior’s just an act?
Entering the kitchen, I take what I need with shaky hands, grabbing water and some cleaning rags. I consider telling someone, but decide it doesn’t serve any purpose. No one will protect me from the Enforcer, but this still can become an opportunity if I use it wisely. I can show the Enforcer how trustworthy I am.
Now that I have a plan, I stop fretting and hold my chin high, not wanting to appear weak in front of him. Since my hands are full, I use my foot to lightly kick the bottom of the wood door. Daytin opens it and looks around the hall, as soon as he sees it’s just me, he waves me in.
I get right to work. Setting the pitcher of clean water on the ground, I begin wiping up blood. Both men silently join me. I don’t worry about the blood on my hands or the blood staining my white apron. I’m only squeamish if the blood is my own.
I leave twice more to dump out the bloodied water and retrieve clean water. If anyone noticed the pink tinted liquid being poured in the gardens or the red on my outfit, they don’t say anything. This is The Boss’s house after all.
When the majority of the mess is finally cleaned up, I begin to feel a little nervous again. My plan only went as far as wiping up the blood and hoping Darick trusts me enough to let me live. I watch Daytin from the
corner of my eye, he seems perfectly at ease. I try to imitate his composure to the best of my ability, but I’m sure I fall flat.
When Darick reaches into his coat, I’m half tempted to flee, certain he’s pulling a weapon. When he pulls out a rolled cigarette and lights it I can’t stop a sigh of relief. He eyes me from across the room as he exhales.
“So Margery… tell me everything that happened before I walked in the room.”
Panic surges through me and I turn to run for the door, but Daytin is blocking it with his body. “It’ll be okay. You can tell Darick everything.” I try to guess what Daytin means. Is he alluding to something? I can’t possibly tell him everything. Unless Daytin has gone rogue. Not really sure what I should do, I consider my words carefully, wanting to stick close to the truth, but without revealing everything.
“I was cleaning when I found a loose floor board. I let my curiosity get the best of me, a bad trait I know…” I stop myself from rambling more. “While I was looking through the things I found, someone appeared in the window. I was startled, so I screamed. Honestly, I don’t know who it was and I barely saw anything. I swear I won’t tell a soul anything.”
“Are you sure you didn’t recognize the intruder?”
I look from Daytin to the Enforcer, trying to gauge my response. “No.”
“I think you’re lying. Tell me the truth now!” He pulls out a knife, but doesn’t make a move toward me.
“I couldn’t see their face.” My response comes out less firm than I would have hoped.
The Enforcer pinpoints me with a look and takes a step toward me. My heart nearly stops when his posture relaxes and he turns to Daytin. “Well at least we can count on her not to crack under the most basic of questioning.” Confusion must be written all over my face because Daytin begins to chuckle while the Enforcer says, “Welcome to the inner circle of Liberty.”