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“Which is why you can’t trust an elf,” said the grizzled old trapper.
“Dreadful stuff,” replied the tanner. “I’m sorry to hear about that.”
“Lesson learned,” replied the trapper. “You won’t see me making the same mistake again.”
Heather smiled. He doesn’t recognize me. Good. She stretched the leather against the brace and lowered the clamps to hold it. I’m getting pretty good with costumes.
“Well, if you see a little elf child,” said the trapper, “pop ‘em on the nose for me.” He made a tight fist. “And tell her I’m coming for him.”
Heather closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deeply. It’s okay, she thought. I’m safe. She turned to the tanner.
“Gareth,” she said softly in the most feminine voice she could use that wouldn’t set the tanner off with suspicion, “the hide is ready.”
The tanner, an old halfling man with a ring of hair around his head and square-rimmed glasses, nodded at her. “Take care, sir,” he said to the trapper, passing a stack of coins to the man. “Better luck out there.”
The trapper smiled half-heartedly and turned. “Thanks,” he said. “Fuckin’ elves.” He strode out of the store.
Gareth began to tighten the brace so that the hide stretched across it. As he did so, Heather used a dropper and a rag to apply curing oils. She would apply the oils and wipe them in, using a broad spiraling pattern. She thought of her time at the tavern with Carla. Same motion, she thought. Different life. Gareth would tighten the brace again, and Heather would reapply the oils. After ten or so minutes, Gareth nodded.
“Let it cure,” he said plainly. “You wanna take a break?”
Heather made a show of considering, then meekly nodded. “If it’s okay,” she said.
Gareth smiled. “We’re ahead. Go for it.”
Heather smiled back. “Be back in ten!” she called and raced out the door.
Outside, she scanned the marketplace. The trapper was making his way across the lowest tier towards the ramp up to the municipal center. Shit, she thought. He’s almost definitely going to talk to a guard. She examined his body language. Purpose, she thought. Frustration. Curiosity. Definitely trying to find a guard. She made her way towards him, trying to intercept him before he reached the ramp.
She managed to arrive at the base of the ramp as the trapper came around to it. “Sir!” she cried. “I’m sorry, I mean to tell you!” She reached a hand out towards him as though to stop him.
“Meant to tell me what?” croaked the trapper.
“I am part of a neighborhood organization,” explained Heather. “The guards aren’t always great around here for common folks like us. I don’t know how often you come to town–” she said.
“As little as I can manage,” said the trapper distastefully. “People are awful.”
True, thought Heather. But you don’t know which ones are awful.
“Well, I live here, and it’s hard,” said Heather sadly. “That’s why we formed a neighborhood alliance. When things happen that the guards won’t help with, we help each other. And between you and me, there’s a new scam going around where people tell the guards that they’ve been scammed and expect recompense, but the guards are onto it. They’ll think you’re scamming them, sir,” said Heather matter-of-factly. “But if you let me bring it to the organization, we could help.”
“How long will it take your group to fix this?” asked the trapper.
“A few days, maybe,” said Heather. “If you’ve left town before we solve it, we’ll hold your money until you come back. How much did you say it was?”
The trapper looked distracted for a moment, then grimaced. “2 gold and some change,” he said.
Heather managed to not laugh. I got maybe a gold off you, she thought. Now I don’t feel so bad, you greedy bastard.
“I’ll let them know,” said Heather. “And I’m sorry about what happened.”
“It’s fine,” said the trapper, relaxed now. “It is what it is.”
“Well, I gotta get back to work,” said Heather. “Safe travels!”
The trapper turned and stalked away to the far gate, presumably towards his woodland cabin outside of town. Heather watched him leave for as long as she dared before heading back into the tannery.
“Feeling refreshed?” asked Gareth. “Ready for round two?”
“You got it, Gareth,” said Heather. “Let’s get to work.”
“Hey, Blossom?” asked Gareth.
“Yeah?” asked Heather, already refitting the hide on the brace.
“How long have you worked here again?” asked Gareth.
“Uh,” said Heather, “eight or nine months.”
“So it’s been eight or nine months that you’ve been running off to talk to customers after they leave,” said Gareth simply, “and I’m just curious–why?”
Heather tried to look calm. “Well, I’m trying to be respectful,” she said. “If I have something to say to a customer, I don’t want to interrupt you or affect business.”
“But what do you have to say to them?” he asked. “Like that trapper–what could you have had to say to him?”
“I told him how to talk to the guards about the elf kid who stole from him,” said Heather almost defensively. “I was trying to help.”
Gareth shrugged. “I suppose that’s fair. But he didn’t get stolen from, Blossom,” he said. “He got conned. Cons aren’t thieves,” he said, pulling the hide taut on the brace. “They’re worse. They’re like . . . have you heard of a parasite?”
Heather breathed in sharply. “Like, the animals and bugs and stuff that feed on another animal?”
“Exactly,” said Gareth. “Thieves hit you and move on. Cons take you for everything you have, and they have fun doing it. If ever you meet someone you don’t trust for some reason, get out.”
“But,” began Heather, “isn’t lying better than violence?”
Gareth spat. “Violence is honest.” He gestured to Heather to be ready with the next round of oils. “Lying is wrong.”
Heather held the dropper above the curing leather. Gareth isn’t a bad guy, she thought. But he’s wrong. Everybody lies.
With that, the pair fell into a silent routine, and before long, they had a small stack of leather pieces which the tanner was tracing designs into. And all the while, Heather reviewed the job with the trapper in her head. Greeting was perfect, she thought. He went right for the bait. Closing was flawless. He just happened to walk in here. I’m safe.
Heather had been feeling paranoid lately, in large part because the guards had cracked down on street crime, and she had been forced to slow down her work to stay safe. Reviewing her work made her feel safer; she liked knowing that she was learning everything she could from her work.
And as the day wore on into evening, Heather considered new angles and past work, trying to be abstractly ready for something she couldn’t prepare for.
—
“Good day’s work,” said Gareth. “See you tomorrow?”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Heather warmly.
“Enjoy your evening, Blossom,” said Gareth. “Remember to stay out of trouble?”
“Who, me?” asked Heather playfully. “I’m just a simple girl–trouble ain’t for me.”
“Keep it that way,” said Gareth. “Good night!”
“G’night!” called Heather, stepping out into the evening. She wove aimlessly past the more populated parts of town and was coming around to the neighborhood where her inn stood. As she came down the street towards it, she scanned the faces of the passersby. Are any of you easy money? she thought. Or do I just go home?
She spotted a face that looked familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Those cheekbones, she thought. Where have I seen her before? She slowed to greet the girl. Agnes! she thought.
“Agnes,” she said calmly, “long time, no see.”
Agnes eyed Heather doubtfully. “Who are you?”
“Heather,” whispered Heather. “Blossom,” she said more loudly. She held out a small hand. “Would you come with me?” she asked. What am I doing? she thought. What do I have to say to her?
Agnes looked confused for a moment, then smiled. “Blossom,” she said emphatically. “Right, Blossom, my old friend.” She glanced around. “Can we talk somewhere more private?” she whispered.
Heather’s heart raced for a moment. What’s going on? Why am I so nervous?
“Follow me,” she said cheerfully, walking a few more doors down to the inn and ducking inside. She waved hello to the clerk behind the counter, walked down a hallway, and pushed open the last door on the right. Once Agnes had stepped inside, she closed the door.
“Nice place,” said Agnes sarcastically, eyeing the costumes strewn about the room.
“It’s mine,” said Heather, slightly hurt.
“Anyway,” said Agnes, “why did you stop me?”
Heather’s mind raced. I don’t exactly know . . .
“I wanted to see how you were,” said Heather. “If I remember right, I offered you a partnership before, and you didn’t have an answer.”
“I hope you weren’t expecting one,” said Agnes. “I got thrown in the clink about two hours after we met.”
“The clink?” asked Heather, curious.
“Prison,” said Agnes plainly. “There’s lots of us in the clink, so you learn all the special words pretty quick.”
Heather nodded sagely. “How long were you in?”
“I only got out last month,” said Agnes. “It’s so nice to be out again. I think I forgot what it was like to make choices.”
Heather’s eyes bulged. Even pretending to follow the rules was about as much as I could handle, she thought, considering the year and a half she had spent at her mother’s.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice small.
“Eh, I’m okay,” said Agnes. “Why do you care anyway?”
Heather shrugged. “I’m just being polite.”
“Well, criminals aren’t polite,” said Agnes. “That’s another thing I learned on the inside.”
“The inside?” asked Heather.
“Prison,” said Agnes again. “There’s a lot of words for prison.”
“There’s more?” asked Heather, genuinely interested.
“Big house, the slammer, the can, the joint–that’s just some of them,” said Agnes proudly.
Heather found herself wishing that she had spent time in prison, or the clink, or whatever Agnes wanted to call it.
“Well, do you need work?” asked Heather coolly. “We could run a game real quick.”
Agnes’s eyes went wide. “That would be good, actually,” she said. “I haven’t had a full meal in about a week.”
“I got this one that I’ve been working on,” said Heather. “We could share it.”
“Let’s do it,” said Agnes. She seemed excited.
Heather reveled in Agnes’ apparent excitement for a moment, then leaned forward conspiratorially. “There’s a little gambler’s den not far from the tannery where I work,” she said.
“You have honest work?” said Agnes, shocked. “Why?”
Heather folded her hands in her lap. “You hear things when you’re working. You see marks. You have a good reason to be in certain places. People trust you more when you’re always around. It can be useful.”
“And this job,” said Agnes, “this is one you learned about from the honest job?”
“Yep,” said Heather happily. “I use my breaks to go around and talk to people. And I learned that this gambling den keeps all the house’s share in a little box in the back of the house. It’s guarded by an old man, and he’s neither very quick nor very strong. If I distracted him, you could snatch the box, and we’d both be set for a while.”
Agnes nodded. “And why haven’t you done this one already?”
Heather grinned. “I needed a partner, silly,” she said, feeling a thrill when she called Agnes silly, and Agnes smiled in return. “I can’t distract and grab at the same time.”
Agnes smiled disbelievingly. “You know, all that time I spent in the pokey–”
“Prison?” asked Heather, preventing a laugh.
“Prison,” nodded Agnes. “All that time I was in, I kept thinking, if I had listened to that Heather girl, I wouldn’t be locked up.”
Heather beamed but tried to hide it.
“So I guess this is your chance to prove it,” said Agnes. “This job works out, and you’ll be the for sure real deal.”
Heather felt overwhelmed. I always want marks to like me. Why does this feel different?
“Well, as soon as the den closes down around midnight, we’ll head over,” said Heather. “In the meantime,” she added, searching the room, “we need something for you.” She picked up a dark grey dress and considered it. “You’re taller than me, so this would look silly.” She held up a dark blue dress. “Not dark enough.” She crossed the room and grabbed a long black dress. She held it up to Agnes. “This should work.”
“I have to change?” whined Agnes.
“If you want to avoid being seen,” said Heather. She handed over the dress.
“Um . . . some privacy?” asked Agnes.
“Oh!” Heather blushed. She stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. A moment later, the door swung open. There stood Agnes, glancing down at the folds of the dark dress. Agnes pulled gently at her skirt, which reached just below her knees. The dress was small on her, and Heather noticed in the low light that Agnes had developed faster than Heather had over the last few years. Heather noted this with some envy and something else she couldn’t place.
“Perfect,” said Heather.
“You think they won’t see me?” asked Agnes.
How would they not see you? thought Heather. She shook her head. “Nope, not a chance,” said Heather. “I’ll keep ‘em looking elsewhere.”
Agnes cackled. “Thanks, Heather,” she said. “We’re gonna be a good team.”
—
Heather and Agnes walked through the night streets. Heather had tried to make light conversation as they went, but Agnes had simply said, “I need to focus,” and fallen silent. Heather reflected on this–she always tried to clear her mind by thinking about anything but what she was about to do. Focusing on it would only serve to upset her. Is this the kind of thing where I give advice, or just let her do it her own way? Agnes stayed silent, so Heather continued to walk alongside and serve as lookout.
They arrived at the gambling den just as a group of grizzled middle-aged halfling men stepped outside.
“Damn, Louis,” said one, “I ain’t bettin’ against you again for a while.”
“It was just luck,” said Louis. “I’ll be bad again tomorrow.”
“I wouldn’t put money on that,” said the first. “C’mon, let’s get one more round.”
Sounds of agreement rippled through the men, and they hurried off in the direction of the tavern district.
“You ready?” asked Heather quietly as they stood outside the gambling den.
“Ready as I’m gonna be,” said Agnes, her voice strained.
“Just relax,” said Heather. “Just be quick and confident.”
“Quick and confident,” repeated Agnes. “Okay.”
“Okay,” said Heather sweetly. “Wait one minute, then go in when you hear me start to get loud.”
Agnes nodded and wiped her palms on the black dress’s skirt. “Got it.”
“Here goes nothing,” said Heather and ducked inside.
Inside the gambling den, one last group of gamblers sat around a table, a tense silence around them.
“Fold,” said a young halfling woman, turning over her cards.
“I’ll match you,” said a halfling man across from her.
“You’ll wish you didn’t,” said an old halfling woman. She turned over her cards to reveal three dragons on each card. She gestured towards the two cards with three dragons in the middle of the table. “Pay up,” she said greedily.
The man threw down his cards. “Damn, woman,” he said. “It’s a good thing that’s the last round, otherwise I would be sleeping on the street tonight.”
The gamblers rose and gathered their coins before heading for the door. A small old man crept out from the backroom and sent the gamblers on their way.
“Thanks for coming,” said the old man. “See you again soon.”
The guests filed out. The old man eyed Heather.
“What can I do for you, miss?” he asked impatiently.
Heather contained a smile. Show time. She immediately began to fake tears. “My papa was in here a few nights ago, and someone cheated him, and now we’re starving,” she said. “I need your help.”
The old man frowned. “All results are final,” he said calmly. “Cheating must be dealt with before leaving, or the end result is accepted.”
“But it’s not FAIR!” shouted Heather. “He got CHEATED, and now we’re STARVING!” She allowed her gaze to wander over to the door and saw Agnes steal inside and duck into the backroom.
“Calm down, now,” said the old man. “There’s nothing I can do to help you.”
“But I’m gonna get in TROUBLE!” screamed Heather dramatically. “I’m not gonna be allowed to eat if I don’t come home with SOMETHING!”
“Please, miss, stop shouting,” he said. “There’s nothing I can do if you’re shouting.”
“But you said you can’t help me AT ALL!” cried Heather. “Oh, what are we gonna DO?” Agnes slipped back out the backroom door and out the front door. Bring it down a notch.
“Miss, I’m sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” said the old man. “If you believe you’ve been wronged, please talk to a guard.”
“FINE,” said Heather, “I will. And you’ll be sorry you didn’t help me when you see my family in the street.” She allowed a bit of angry flair to creep into her speech.
“Now please go,” said the old man. “I’m very busy.”
“Fine,” repeated Heather, this time more calmly. “Good night,” she added curtly. She walked calmly to the front door, stepped outside, and scanned for Agnes. She spotted the girl leaning against a wall across the street. She scurried over. “Let’s go,” she said. “Quick.”
“Gotcha,” said Agnes. She picked up the box, and the two hurried off into the night. A minute later, they heard shouts behind them.
“Where did she go?” screamed the old man at the gambling den. “Gods damn her, where did she go?”
Agnes broke into laughter, which jolted Heather out of her fear.
“Nice one,” said Agnes. “That was perfect.”
Except now I can’t wear these clothes or this hairstyle back there again, thought Heather. Except I work a block from the gambling den.
“How’d you come up with it?” asked Agnes a moment later.
“Hmm?” asked Heather, distracted by the potential for being caught.
“That job,” said Agnes. “How’d you come up with it?”
“Oh,” said Heather, “I figured out that most businesses keep their lockboxes in surprisingly easy-to-access places. The lockbox at the tannery is just behind the counter, for instance, and Gareth only empties it every few days. I mean, there’s as much there right now as we just made off with.” She smiled casually. “You just have to know the details of how they get dealt with.”
“Wow,” said Agnes appreciatively. “You’re smart.”
Heather beamed. “I do my best,” she said.
“No,” said Agnes, playfully bumping her shoulder into Heather’s, “you do the best. I’m gonna be comfortable for a while now.”
“Yeah,” said Heather. “Not bad. Let’s go back to my place and split it up.”
“But . . .” started Agnes.
“What?” asked Heather.
“You have a place, and I don’t,” said Agnes. “You know what you’re doing, and I don’t. You’ll be fine without this,” she said, shaking the box, the contents of which clattered against each other. “I won’t.”
Heather considered. Of course I’m not going to just give her that whole score, she thought. Especially not after what it just cost me. She studied Agnes’s face. She looked almost gaunt now that Heather really inspected her, with a look of desperation in her eyes. But I want to. Why do I want to? she thought. Oh, what’s the harm? I’m set for a while.
“Good point,” said Heather sweetly. “You take it, and be careful. Transfer that stuff to a few coinpurses. Don’t let anyone know you have that money.”
Agnes rolled her eyes. “Little Miss Cautious,” she teased, “I will be fine.”
You spent multiple years in prison, she thought. Or the big house, or can, or whatever. Will you be fine?
“I hope so,” said Heather.
“I will,” said Agnes. “Besides, what do you care? Don’t you have yourself to take care of?”
Heather sighed. “Okay, Agnes. Just be careful.”
Agnes laughed. “Good night, Blossom,” she said playfully. “See you round.”
Heather smiled weakly and watched her go. She thought of calling after Agnes to get her dress back, but the idea of asking her to change again was too much for Heather to think about. She walked another block to the inn, ducked inside, waved to the clerk, and headed to her room.
This room had been her own for over a year now. Initially, the clerk had moved her from room to room as needed, but when it became clear that she was here for the long term, the clerk made a reservation; so long as Heather paid on time, her room was reserved for another week. She had made a habit of paying a day or two early to ensure not having to move.
She looked around and sat on the edge of the bed. A place to sleep and keep my clothes, she thought. And nothing else. She studied the bare walls and lack of furniture. But it’s home. More home than things with Mom and Dad were. She flopped backward onto the bed. It’s been a while, she thought. Maybe I’ll visit tomorrow after my shift.
She sunk into the bed and allowed her mind to go blank. What a weird day, she thought. I hope Agnes is okay.
And as she drifted off to sleep, she found that she was more concerned for Agnes’s wellbeing than for the risky but payout-less job that had ended the day.
—
Heather walked quickly along the tierside road the next morning, her head down. She had had strange dreams about Agnes, and she had woken up feeling out of sorts. I’m so tired, she thought. The job with Agnes had kept her out later than usual, and she was still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes when she arrived at the tannery.
She was surprised to see the door closed. Gareth is always here a few hours before me, she thought. What’s going on? She approached the door and listened. She could hear someone moving around inside. She stood back and knocked on the door.
“We’re closed!” came Gareth’s voice.
“It’s me!” Heather shouted through the door. “Blossom! I’m here to get started!”
The door swung open a moment later. “Come in,” said Gareth, closing the door behind her.
The store was a mess. Wares and tools were scattered everywhere.
“What the hell?” asked Heather without thinking.
“My thoughts exactly,” said Gareth. “We got hit last night. They took a few of the pricier leathers and the entire cashbox.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“But how’d they get in?” asked Heather. “Didn’t you lock up?”
Gareth hung his head. “They picked the lock,” he said sadly. “Oh, Blossom, I don’t know if we can come back from this. At the very least, I have to lower your wages to get by. You understand, I hope. Assuming you want to stay.”
Agnes. Heather was lost in thought. She came here last night after I told her about the cashbox, and she broke in and took it. That cheeky girl. She smiled to herself. Good for her.
“Uh, what are you smiling about?” asked Gareth.
Heather snapped to. “Oh, sorry–nothing. I’m afraid I can’t work for any less than I make now if I want to keep my place,” she said simply. “It’s been good working here, Gareth. I’m sorry all this happened.”
“Sorry to see you go, kid,” said Gareth. “You work hard. You’ll land on your feet. And don’t be sorry,” he said, sighing, “it’s not your fault.”
A pit formed in Heather’s stomach. Except it is. “That’s true,” she said. “Thanks for understanding.”
“Good luck, Blossom,” said Gareth.
“You too,” she said. She turned and walked from the shop, closing the door again behind her.
She glanced around in the bright sunlight, shielding her eyes from the sun. It’s still morning time. I could try to catch Dad at work. They don’t always give him a minute, but it’d be worth it to talk to him without dealing with Mom. She turned toward the marketplace and, minutes later, reemerged with a pair of seed bread rolls. She cut down a side street, hurried past a few industrial buildings, and stopped before a halfway-constructed house big enough for a small family. Her father was hammering a nail into a support beam, connecting a cross brace. He spotted her and waved. Heather headed towards him, and he climbed down from the houseframe.
“Good morning, Heather,” he said happily. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Heather passed him a roll. “Seed bread,” she said. “I just quit my job.”
Cedric took the roll and flinched at the word “quit.” “Why would you quit your job, sweetheart? I thought you liked working with . . . Gary?”
Heather smiled. “Gareth, and yes, I did. But he got broken into last night, and we said he had to pay me less, and I was already thinking of getting another job anyway.” She patted her father’s arm. “I’m fine, and I’ll be fine.”
Cedric took a bite of the roll. “Good,” he mumbled through the bread. He chewed for a moment and swallowed. “What are you gonna do now?”
Heather shrugged. I like having a legitimate job to not be greedy out there, but I haven’t needed a legitimate job for a while. Still. It’s better to have a cover story. “Maybe something for the city,” she said after a while. Like Zenna, she thought. “Like, some simple work they need done. I could do that.”
“Wow,” said Cedric. “My daughter, working for the city! That would be something.” He looked at her, noticing her eager eyes. “And even if you didn’t, that would be fine. Just something honest that pays the bills.”
Sure, she thought. But I heard the change in your voice. You want me to work for the city.
“You know what, sweetie,” Cedric said, “your mother was just telling me about a new job that opened up downtown by the municipal buildings. Why don’t you go talk to her about it?”
Heather kept a faux smile on her face. “Yeah, I’ll do that,” she said. “I’ll talk to her when she gets home.”
“Oh, you can head on by,” said Cedric. “She hurt her leg, and she’s off duty until she can get around okay again.”
“Oh,” said Heather. “That’s too bad.”
“Well, I gotta get back to it, but thanks for the seed roll,” said Cedric.
“No problem,” said Heather. “See you later, Dad.”
“See you later, sweetie,” he replied.
Heather turned and walked towards the neighborhood where her parents lived. I could be like Zenna, she thought. She said not to do what she’s doing, but it seems to be working out for her. After I talk to Mom like a dutiful daughter, I’ll go check at the service office.
And as she wound through Thistlewade’s streets, she found herself lost in daydreams that held off the thoughts of speaking to her mother when she arrived.
—
Heather politely knocked on the door twice, then entered. Her mother wasn’t in the kitchen; Heather rounded the corner into the living room and found her lying on the couch.
“Hello, Heather,” said Lily dryly. “What’s the occasion?”
Heather stood before the couch, looking down at her injured mother. She tried to summon up some pity but couldn’t.
“I just stopped by to see Dad,” said Heather pleasantly.
“Cutting me out, I suppose,” said her mother.
“Nothing like that,” lied Heather. “I was talking to him on my way to you. He said you heard about a job near the government building.”
Lily grinned wickedly. “So you want something. What happened to your old job?”
“They got robbed,” said Heather, fighting the rush that saying so gave her. “He couldn’t pay me anymore. I wanted something working for the public.”
Lily eyed her suspiciously. “Why would you want that?”
Heather shrugged. “To help people, I guess.”
“You want to help people?” asked Lily. “Help me. The chores are stacking up since I hurt my leg.”
“How did you hurt your leg, anyway?” asked Heather.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” snapped Lily. “Just sweep up, and I’ll tell you about the job while you work.”
Heather sighed and grabbed the broom, working around the room in a large spiral towards the center.
“So the job?” she asked as she swept.
“There’s a small inn not far from the public service building,” explained Lily. “They house all the traveling heads of state. Working there would be a foot in the door to a government job, what with all the connections.”
Heather smiled. That would be nice. I could move up the chain to bigger jobs with that. She continued to sweep, edging around the center.
“What’s the inn called?” asked Heather.
“Lakeside Manor,” said her mother. “You know, if I weren’t injured, I would want the job myself.”
Heather paused sweeping and looked at her mother. “But,” mumbled Heather, “but you are injured.”
“But if I weren’t,” pressed Lily, “it would be my job.”
Heather tried to keep a straight face. “I guess.”
“So, I’m giving it to you,” said Lily. “I’m giving you a source of money.”
Heather bit her tongue. I’ve played this game before, she thought. And I did it much more elegantly.
“I guess,” she said again.
“So, courtesy says you would pay me part of your earnings for the first few weeks to care for me while I’m injured.” Lily wore an obviously feigned pained expression.
“And you hurt your leg how?” asked Heather.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” repeated her mother.
“I would,” Heather said. “How did you injure it?”
“I was in the market,” said Lily painfully. “I got trapped between a cart and a stall when the cart turned. It hurt dreadfully.”
“Okay,” said Heather. “Sounds painful. I’m sorry that happened. Here, let me clean what’s in the sink for you.”
Lily looked surprised. “Thank you,” she said.
Heather began scrubbing the dishes, wiping ever towards the center, around and around. She placed a clean dish on the counter.
“Oh, Mom?” she called. “My hands are soaked from washing, and I don’t want to drip water everywhere.” She glanced in at her mother on the sofa. “Could you bring me the broom? I want to wash it out for you.”
Lily grumbled on the sofa, but she rose and grabbed the broom. She limped heavily on her way over. “Thank you, Heather,” she said upon seeing the clean dishes. She limped back to the couch.
Heather scrubbed the broom bristles until they were all a flat brown, no longer grey and black with grime. She laid it out in the corner to dry. She walked into the living room and looked down at her mother.
“I’m sorry you’re hurt,” she said. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”
“I will,” said Lily. “And I expect you back after your first pay.”
“Oh,” laughed Heather. “I’m not going to do that. Unless, of course, you can tell me which leg you hurt.”
Lily blinked furiously. “What do you mean?” she barked. “Of course I hurt my right leg.”
“Weird,” said Heather playfully. “Because you were relying on your right leg a minute ago.” She turned to the door. “Oh well,” she said. “Enjoy your clean house.”
She walked outside and closed the door behind her. Heather took a few steps and spun. That’ll show her, she thought. I’m too old to mess with anymore. She glanced around. Time to find that job. She struck off for the ramp up to the municipal district.
When she arrived at the top of the ramp, she found the area crowded. Throngs of people clogged the streets. A tall platform outside the main government office stood, seemingly the center of the crowd’s attention. She used her small size and agility to duck between people until she came to the front.
Hangman’s scaffolding, no doubt about it, she thought. Normally they hang people at sundown. This must be a really menace. She looked around at the other spectators, wondering what they knew of the person who would grace this platform. A few people away was Agnes, staring straight up at the top. Heather scooted towards her.
“Hey, Agnes,” she said coolly. “It’s me.”
Agnes turned and looked at Heather. She smiled slightly. “Hey,” she replied. “Thanks again for that tip.”
Yeah, about that–I lost my job because of that, she thought. But something stopped her from vocalizing it. Instead, she said, “Yeah, you took him for everything.”
“I’m set for a while now,” said Agnes proudly. “It’s good to be out.”
“You got through the lock,” said Heather quietly.
“Yeah,” said Agnes. “It was a pretty simple one.”
“Can–can you show me how?” asked Heather in a small voice.
Agnes grinned. “I guess I could show you some moves,” she said.
Heather blushed. “That would be great.”
“For a price,” said Agnes.
Heather considered this, then nodded. “I want to be able to do what you do,” she said.
“After this, I’ll show you how to use the tools,” said Agnes. “We’ll have to get you some of your own.”
“That’s fine,” said Heather. “I can buy some–”
The crowd grew loud as a hooded figure was led out to the platform. With them were a cloaked official and the hangman, whose own cowl masked him. The official held out a sheet of parchment and read in a loud voice:
“People of Thistlewade, there are occasions when the mechanisms of justice fail. This does not mean that our model of governance is broken, but merely that we as people are flawed. And when these flaws are discovered, they must be rooted out.”
“Yadda yadda,” muttered Agnes. “You didn’t do this at noon for a common thug. What’d they do?”
The official continued to read: “When, in the course of administering justice, even the tools of justice itself are tarnished, the price paid must be especially high. We in the government of Thistlewade have been proud to go without a single execution for over two years. That is why it is with great sadness that we make this announcement.”
“Come on,” seethed Agnes. “Get on with it.”
“People of Thistlewade,” read the official, “we cannot deny what has happened. Though it is unconscionable, it is a fact. A criminal has infiltrated our law enforcement. We do not know how wide this goes, but rest assured that the threat has been neutralized.”
“A tricky guard,” said Agnes appreciatively. “Nice.”
“Effective immediately, all government posts will be investigated for criminal activity, and all new hires will be required to undergo a rigorous background check,” read the official. “And now, for justice.” He reached over and pulled the hood off the silent figure. Heather couldn’t see up over the platform far enough to see the figure’s face. “Last words?” asked the man. Though the criminal did not speak, Heather could see the rope twist above, signaling that they had shaken their head no. The official nodded. The hangman threw the lever. The body fell.
It took Heather a moment to recognize the falling body. She put it together just as the rope went taut and snapped the head violently back up. It was Zenna.
Heather fell inside of herself. She couldn’t move. All around her, people screamed and pushed to get a closer look, but she only wanted to get away, to not see Zenna’s hanging body there. She tried, but couldn’t close her eyes. Gradually, Zenna’s body slowed its wide swinging and began to spin slightly. Heather watched helplessly as the body began to swing out and around the center in a long, spiraling arc. She felt sick.
She looked to her side. Agnes was grinning, chanting something that was lost in the din. Heather pulled Agnes’s sleeve and gestured away from the crowd. Agnes shrugged and followed. They managed to push through the mob and out into the city surrounding it.
“Shit,” said Heather.
“Did you know her?” asked Agnes.
“Yeah,” said Heather. “She . . . shit.”
“You okay?” asked Agnes, her voice annoyed.
Heather collected herself. “Yeah, fine, I just . . . gotta change plans now. There’s no way I can work with the government now.”
“So what?” said Agnes. “After I show you how to pick a lock, you’ll be set for life.”
Yeah, thought Heather. A few more skills, and I’ll always be able to take care of myself.
“Let’s go,” said Agnes, starting to walk back towards the ramp to the lowest tier. “It takes some getting used to.”
Heather lingered a moment, looking back at the crowd. In her mind, she saw Zenna’s swinging body again. She was right, she thought. I wish she had listened to herself. She shook her head and looked to Agnes, a thrill lighting up her lungs. I’m gonna listen to myself. She followed behind Agnes, trying to figure out what her self had to say.
You can read the next chapter here!
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