Making Peace, page 21
The door opened, and Sen stood there silhouetted by the hallway lamps, leaning one hip against the frame with his arms crossed. He didn’t look straight at me but off to one side, as had become the habit of all of the Keepers since we’d lost Captain and Tavel. Something about looking at each other was too painful right now, and we’d all been avoiding eye contact by unspoken agreement. His eyes took in the bits of newspaper and artwork tacked up on my wall, left there by some previous tenant. I didn’t share their mixed taste in nude pictures and articles about fish prices, but I honestly hadn’t cared enough to take them down. Home is just a place to go between tragedies and disappointments, right?
The silence dragged on and I became annoyed at him for just standing there, like I had nothing better to do but sit there waiting for him. “You got something for me, Sen?”
I expected a witty response, but he didn’t even glance at me. Seeing the spark of mirth burned out of Sen was like a punch to the gut. Over the last couple of months with the Keepers I’d come to see Sen as the joker of the group, the one always quick with a witty quip or an inappropriate comment that set the rest of us to laughing. His new silence and his empty expression had come to grate on me as much as Vapor’s condition and Shield’s untimely withdrawal. At least Ugly had the decency to leave me alone and spend his days absent from the safehouse, out in the streets securing our hideout and listening for any incoming attacks sent against us.
Sen stayed silent, and it was starting to really piss me off now. I pushed off from the bed and stood up abruptly, then marched straight at him. He heard my socked feet stomping on the boards but he still wouldn’t look at me.
“What, Sen? What do you want?”
Silence.
“You want to bother me, is that it? I’d like some privacy, please.”
Silence.
“Did you hear me? Get out.”
Still silence.
Furious, I gave him a shove. He stumbled backward, but I hadn’t shoved very hard so he stopped quickly. Now he was looking at me, but his eyes still had that empty look. I couldn’t stand it.
“Leave me alone, Sen. I said get out!” I shoved him again, harder this time. He stumbled out of the room, and his back thumped against the pinewood paneling of the wall in the hallway. I had intended to close my door in his face but found myself pursuing him out into the hall. I shoved him again, up against the wall, and he bounced off it. He had a good four inches of height on me, so I grabbed him by the collar of his white cotton tunic and dragged him down, forcing him to slouch. I gave him a shake. His eyes were on me now, and clearing rapidly.
“You want to piss me off, Sen, is that it? You think I want to talk to you? To any one of you?” My breath caught in my throat, choking me. “You damned Keepers. You make such grand statements, so many claims of big purpose. You say you’re gonna do this and do that: such noble shit. You make so many promises, and then you… you…” My voice ran out and I gasped for breath, looking down at my hand clenched in Sen’s shirt collar instead of looking into his face. I gave him a last small shove as I released his collar, and he stood up straight in front of me. We didn’t say anything, just stood together like that, the flames of the lamps crackling up and down the hallway.
I heard him open his mouth and draw breath to speak, but we were interrupted by heavy footsteps. Ugly rounded a corner and saw us. I expected a weird look at seeing the two of us in such an aggressive posture. Instead, he seemed distracted, his eyes huge and wide. He beckoned to us with one of his large, scarred hands. “Vapor’s awake. Come quick.”
Sen, Ugly, and I sat around Vapor’s bedside. Sen rested one hand on her ankle through the blanket, I held her hand, and Ugly stroked her hair. She endured this all without complaint as she sipped quietly from a ceramic mug of water, the first thing she’d asked for. Sen and I were chattering at her about how glad we were she was awake and she chattered right back as best she could, considering her weakness. The coma had taken a lot out of her, but her nurse said she’d be back to full strength soon.
Vapor turned her face up to Ugly and they shared a tender smile, the kind which makes you uncomfortable to stare at, so I turned away and found Sen looking back at me. I opened my mouth to say something, maybe to apologize, but he smiled at me. The glazed look had left his eyes, and the smile went all the way up into them with a little bit of the old sparkle. I smiled and nodded my thanks at his forgiveness.
Vapor hadn’t noticed our exchange. She turned to the two of us and asked, “What have I missed?” It must have been obvious it was something big, because we all froze and went quiet so long she started to look concerned. “Guys, tell me. Where is everyone else? Sen?” He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Ugly?” He turned his face away from her questioning look. She turned to me and my dread reached a fever pitch. “Bel, please. I’m going to have to deal with it sooner or later.” Unhappily, I looked up into her eyes. Long lashes hung over them like thick curtains, and as I watched both irises shifted from a sea-green hue to some sort of fuchsia, lit from within. I looked down at our clasped hands and began to tell her the story.
It took some time, at least fifteen minutes. She didn’t ask any questions during my recitation, and neither Ugly nor Sen volunteered anything. Her only reaction was a quiet gasp and to squeeze my hand a little tighter when I told her Tavel had murdered Andre Covina. For a young kid, she seemed to absorb it rather well. I remembered what she had told me about her past. Of course she was used to the machinations of House leaders and casual betrayals by friends.
When I was done, Vapor drew the blanket aside to expose her metallic left leg. The black scales clicked as she moved it, flexing the joint to feel its smoothness. She reached toward the bedside table to get her can of oil, but it was just out of reach. Sen snagged it and handed it to her. None of us said anything as she began working oil into the joints to loosen them up. The sweet scent of the oil filled the room, mixing with the various herbs the nurses and healers had hung on the walls. When she was finally satisfied her ankle joint was back to proper alignment, Vapor crossed her legs and sat up slowly. Ugly supported her with a hand against her back, and she smiled at him.
“Thanks,” Vapor said. Ugly smiled right back.
“Now.” Vapor drew a breath and clasped her hands in her lap, “I’m just a sixteen-year-old coming out of a coma, but from what you’ve said it seems to me we need more proof, right?”
The rest of us shrugged assent. Of course we did.
“So if the assassin is gone and wouldn’t talk, and the mercenary captain wasn’t enough, that leaves us the only killer left out there, right?”
We nodded at her, Ugly looking thoughtful this time.
“But you haven’t found that person, right?” she asked.
We all looked at Ugly. He cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. “We, ah… We had settled on using the mercenary at the time that Captain…” He cleared his throat again. “And since then, we’ve let things slip. A lot more than we had any right to.” His eyes took on a hard glint but he wasn’t looking at us, instead staring off into the distance. His eyes had an internal sort of look, like he was looking inward, and I guessed he was assessing his own behavior over the last three weeks. I know I was, and I didn’t like it. I had the urge to apologize to Sen again, but he wasn’t looking at me.
Vapor clapped her hands together. “So if we find this other killer, maybe we’ll have a lead?”
Ugly crossed his arms and leaned his massive shoulder against the wall by her headboard, the boards creaking under his weight. “I’m worried that even with more proof, we’re sunk. We blew most of our credibility when Tavel murdered a House leader in an unsanctioned execution. Frankly, we’re fortunate the Council hasn’t killed us for it. I’m not sure what’s holding them from it. That’s the reason for this new safehouse, in case they make up their minds.”
Vapor smiled. “But what is it you always tell me? ‘Don’t focus on your worries. Focus on what you can do about the problem.’”
Ugly gave Vapor an appraising look, then leaned over and ruffled her hair. She closed her eyes and grinned as he did it. When he was finished making a rat’s nest of it he tucked one crooked finger under her chin, and she looked up at him. They shared another one of their smiles. “When did you get to be so grown up, little flower?” he asked in a gentle voice. She beamed up at him. Ugly held Vapor’s eyes for several more moments, then looked at Sen and me, who were doing our best not to stare. “You two, head out to the workhouse on the edge of Tier Three, the one where people hire unemployed lady’s maids. One of the First House servants just turned up there and I haven’t had a chance to make contact with her yet. Ask around, see what you can learn about this killer. You said you had some luck on First House servants before, so keep pushing those leads. I’m gonna stay here and get Vapor walking. Get going, boys.”
I stood up and turned to Sen. “Come on, little flower.” He crossed his hands under his chin and tilted his head, batting his eyelashes at me. Vapor burst out laughing as we both bolted out the door with Ugly stomping after us.
CHAPTER 29
THE WORKHOUSE WAS nice as far as workhouses went. Servants who hadn’t been hired yet or worked for masters who did not want them living on the property rented rooms at the workhouse. Strict standards of conduct were usually enforced, of course, because the landlords wanted to attract the highest caliber of clientele. At this particular place only women were allowed to be in residence, and the rent was rather high.
The building stood four stories tall and was made entirely of wood painted a brilliant blue with white trim. Wide stairs led to the front door, and porches with white railings graced the front of the building and swept along both sides. In this place, we found the former servant of the First House, someone I had met before.
Sen and I were disguised as wealthy members of the upper class, dressed in our finest clothing. I tore a tailored red doublet with black velvet slacks. Sen was dressed similarly but in dark blue. Asking for a servant with practice in the highest circles and with experience as a lady’s maid got the attention of the landlord, as did the clinking of my coin pouch as I absentmindedly hefted it in one hand. She deposited us in one of the larger rooms and instructed us to wait while she gathered the best candidate.
The room was sumptuous without being decadent. Chairs and couches were arranged about the room for multiple groups to hold interviews. Curtains and rugs in tasteful fashions decorated the room, giving it the feel of a lady’s parlor.
Ten minutes later Rosa walked in. Rosa had served Lady Mentha, the second female victim in the First House. She wore a plain blue dress of conservative cut, and her soft brown hair was done up in a tasteful bun. I recognized her from the small mole above her lip. She started when she saw us, and she looked like she was trying to decide whether or not to bolt.
“Wait, Rosa,” I said. “We aren’t here for trouble. We’re here to save lives, and we need your help.”
She didn’t look much calmer at my words but she at least stopped eyeing the exits. I took her hand led her to one of the couches, seating her there opposite us. Her hand shook as she lifted her porcelain teacup to her tastefully painted lips, but she kept eye contact with me and I admired the courage in that.
“Rosa,” I said, “I need to know something. It’s very important. Marsa told me before there was a girl at the First House, someone who had been let go. We’re afraid she’s wrapped up in some terrible trouble. Do you know anything about her, anything that might help?”
Her shaking slowed, then stopped. Rosa set her cup down, seeming to consider my question. A few moments went by in quiet, Sen and I sipping our tea. Sen took too large a mouthful of the hot liquid and spat some back into his cup with a gasp. I tried not to sigh, though my eyes did roll of their own accord.
Rosa seemed remarkably calmer after a couple of minutes and she cocked her head to one side, looking at me. Then she looked down. “I do indeed remember the conversation, sir. However, I’m certain, sir, that no servant who spills secrets is likely to be hired again.”
I shared a look with Sen. “That’s not a no, though. And we are incredibly eager for information.”
Rosa delicately turned her teacup on its saucer with one finger. “Prospects have been awfully short, sir. With my mistress passed, I had no First House family member to write me a letter of recommendation, only the housekeeper’s.” She looked up at me with lowered eyelids. “Certainly a letter from someone with more prestige would go a great way toward employment.”
I grimaced. “You’ve heard who I am, then?”
She nodded.
I sighed. Of course it had got out after the ball, the famous author in the company of the Keepers. I had just hoped I had more time. “As it happens, I’d be happy to write you a letter of recommendation.”
She smiled, almost a grin but too refined to be called such, and she went to the door. She opened it and spoke quietly to someone outside, then closed it and returned to her seat. We sat quietly for a moment or two until there was a light knock and the door opened again. A servant entered with a tray containing parchment and the various writing implements I’d need. I wrote out a letter detailing not only her many years of service to my family before her time with the First House, but also her aunt’s faithful service to my own mother and how they’d been fast friends. Rosa read it over and pronounced herself satisfied, whereupon she set it to dry and then leaned forward, hands clasped in front of her.
“Our master, the Hegemon,” Rosa began after biting her lip, “he’s not a gentle sort. Those of us in higher service are shielded by our mistresses, but the girls in lower service are not.”
I nodded. “I’ve seen his work, the bruises. And I’ve guessed there’s more which isn’t seen.”
Her face tightened. “Oh yes, you’re right about that, sir. He rules the city and keeps the peace and all that, but he’s a demon in his own household. And this girl you’re talking about, she was one of his favorites for a while.”
I shuddered at imagining what that would have meant for the girl. “What’s her name?”
“Ina. No last name I ever heard. She’s young, maybe nineteen or twenty. Tanned skin, mocha colored. Hazel eyes. Blonde hair with big curls. Legs for miles, as the gentlemen say.”
Rosa’s description matched Marsa’s testimony at the First House. It also matched thousands of girls in the city. “That doesn’t narrow it down, exactly. Any idea how to find her?”
Rosa glanced at the door to make sure it was shut, then looked back at me. She leaned in and Sen and I mirrored her, like three conspirators. “Being his favorite, the most natural consequence took shape, which is to say she quickly found herself with child.” She frowned. “The daffy girl imagined he’d be happy, but of course he was furious. What man wants proof of his indelicate deeds?” Her hands clenched together in her lap. “He beat her. Poor girl, I heard it was terrible. My friend who cleaned up afterward said there was blood everywhere, and drag marks in it like she’d slid around.” She stopped and took a couple of breaths. Her face was pale. It took me a moment to remember normal people were bothered by bloody scenes. Hadn’t I been, just a couple of months ago? Welcome to the new normal, Belkan.
Rosa’s face regained some of its color and she went on, looking back and forth between us with furtive glances as she spoke. “The House guards, I heard they took her to the Red Cathedral. The Master said if she was so eager for all that business then he’d send her where she’d get the most work, we heard him yelling it as they threw her into the carriage. My guess is she’s somewhere there, if she’s still alive and survived that beating.” She took a sip of her tea to settle herself, leaning back in her chair. Sen and I also leaned back, sharing a long look.
Rosa drained her tea, set down her cup as she stood, folded her letter, and curtsied to us.
Sen and I stood and bowed. “Thank you for your assistance,” I said.
Rosa nodded and left the room, letter clasped firmly in her hand.
I turned to Sen. “Looks like we’ve got our next lead. Let’s go tell Ugly.”
We left the workhouse and walked out into the daylight. I looked up the tiers to where the Red Cathedral was visible on the highest point of the city, gleaming in the sun.
I asked, “What’s the Red Cathedral like? Should I be dreading this?”
“Ah, it’s not so bad,” Sen said as he stood beside me. “I was born there.” He ignored my stunned look and started off down the street toward our new headquarters.
CHAPTER 30
MUDDY STREETS GAVE way to cobble stones and sidewalks as Vapor and I followed Sen toward the place of his birth.
As one of the main attractions of the city, the Red Cathedral occupied one of the highest cliffs in Tiers. It took up one side of the river, and the top four Houses and the government buildings stood on the other. The Cathedral’s garish red façade drew attention away from the faded marble of the grandest homes which sat glaring miserably up at it.
My eyes picked out details as I stared up at the imposing structure. Even from a mile down the street, statues and displays were perfectly visible. I estimated the Red Cathedral to stand around ten stories tall and hundreds of feet deep, an enormous structure. It was shaped as if two long buildings had crossed in the middle, with four squared sections pointing toward each point on the compass. A central dome rose in the center where the four sections met. Towers rose from each outer corner of the four squared structures. Each tower bore a pole rising upward, but the poles were snapped at different lengths with jagged edges and I could not discern their purpose.
Because of the laws governing technology on this planet the entire structure had been built by hand, and I couldn’t imagine such an undertaking. In the distant past some artisan had carved scenes into the front of the building itself depicting the beliefs of their religion, but most of these had been painted over sloppily with paint until the viewer could no longer make out the individual details. I wondered at what the original religion may have been, and what its worshippers might feel seeing their grand work turned to such sordid purpose.
