This short story takes place during Nobody Knows Me. You can read the first chapter of the novel here!
Asp stirred. Candace had slipped away at some point; the bed was cold next to her. Dawn light crept through the window, casting shadows along the sheets where Asp raised them.
“Candy?” she whispered. It would not be the first time she didn’t notice that Candace was right there. No reply came.
She slipped from bed and stole to the door. She cracked it, peering out into the hallway. Candace’s door was open, no sounds coming from inside. Asp closed the door and returned to bed. She slipped away to a dream about waking up one day and being Delia. Her natural voice was Delia’s voice, her wardrobe full of bright dresses and caps, her instincts a reporter’s. She woke up to a warm hand on the side of her face.
“Good morning, honey,” said Candace. “You seem at peace.”
Asp smiled in surprise. “I was just dreaming I was really Delia.”
“And it was a good dream?” asked Candace. She seemed slightly hurt.
“I think I was happy to be doing something that people like,” said Asp carefully. “But I’m very happy with my life here with you.”
Candace smiled warmly. “That’s good.” She looked away and cleared her throat–a tell. She wanted something but didn’t want to ask for it because she didn’t think Asp would like it. Asp smiled. She had come to love surprising Candace by accepting these requests almost unconditionally. “So, uh, I was thinking . . .”
Asp smiled widely. “And?”
Candace looked at Asp, blushed, and turned away again. “Well, it’s date night.” She put a hand delicately on Asp’s knee. “And it was your turn to pick.” She made eye contact. “But there’s a theatre troupe in town tonight, and I haven’t seen them in years, and they’re so good, and–”
“Sure,” said Asp. “Let’s go.”
Candace’s eyes flashed. “Really? I promise you’ll love it.”
“I’ve never seen a theatre performance proper,” said Asp. “I picked up some of the lines when I was picking pockets in the crowd, but not the whole play experience.”
“Oh, you’re gonna love it,” said Candace happily. “They have this one actress who is so much like Penelope–you’re just gonna love it.”
Asp laughed lightly. “Sounds good. Can we still try that new elven restaurant? It smelled really good when we passed it.”
Candace wrapped Asp in a tight hug. “Of course we can, honey. Thanks.”
Asp squeezed back. “For you? Any time.”
—
“What are you up to today?”
Asp was on the couch, chatting with Kyrn. Kyrn’s question was probably the most serious thing they had discussed so far.
“Oh, nothing planned. I could use a lay low day. Some recon tonight, though,” said Asp.
“You and Candace both seem to do your work at night every so often. Usually the same day, too,” said Kyrn, inspecting her claws. “What do you two know that I don’t?” Her voice was playful and casual.
“Uh, I don’t know if we know some secret,” said Asp even more casually. “Sometimes trying things at a different time makes a difference with people.” She yawned deliberately. “As for the coincidence, I don’t know. Weird, though.”
Jehosaphat slouched into the room and took the armchair opposite Asp. “Sorry to interrupt, ladies,” he said cordially. “I have a job for Asp.”
Kyrn nodded. “The kind I need to leave the room for?”
Jehosaphat shook his head. “Nothing like that.” He turned to face Asp. “We just heard that the guard changes are being changed every night now. We need to know what it’s going to be tomorrow. You need to go to the shift manager and find out what the plan is for tomorrow night between midnight and 3am. Understood?”
Asp went over the details in her head. “Got it,” she said after a moment. “You know when the shift manager starts?”
“Some time in the afternoon,” said Jehosaphat. “He’s a cautious man, you should know. He’ll ask a lot of questions.”
Asp smiled. “That’s my specialty.”
“Alright then,” said Jehosaphat. “Talk to you this evening.” He stood up from his chair and left.
“Where were we?” asked Kyrn.
“I forgot,” lied Asp. “Hey, did you ever talk to that silverskin again?”
—
Asp left the estate in a blend of clothes from her various personas: a pale dress from Penelope, shiny heeled boots from Delia, thick glasses from Gilbert. She wanted to be unrecognizable, and her inspection in her room’s mirror told her she was.
She made her way to the docks. People milled around, toting luggage and shipments in carts. She surveyed the buildings: ticketing office, storage, main office. She headed inside the main office after a stream of hard-looking sailors poured out.
“I don’t see how that applies here, sir,” said a dwarf with a long mustache braided into his beard. “You’re talking about voyages that begin and end on different ports on Strey. I’m telling you that we’re talking about your passage from Myriad, which has different rules. I’m sorry, but I cannot help you.”
The customer, a smallish human man, began to protest, but was carried away by burly guards. Asp noticed for the second time how many of them there were; guards practically lined the counter, and there had been at least a half dozen outside. Getting caught in here would mean certain arrest. Asp stepped nervously up to the counter.
“Excuse me, sir?” she said uncertainly.
“Yes,” said the shift manager. “What’s the problem, miss?”
“Missus, actually,” said Asp. “My husband is one of the new hires, and he’s frightfully ill, and I need to know when his shift is tomorrow so we can budget our time with his recovery.”
The dwarf picked up a sheet of parchment. “Your husband, the new hire. I take it you are Mrs. Dewberry?”
“One and the same,” said Asp, curtsying. “He works the late shifts, and we’ve struggled so much with the changing shift times, so I just wanted to be sure.”
“Well, Mrs. Dewberry, the fact of the matter is that I cannot divulge that information to anyone but employees. It’s unsafe to let information like that fall into anyone’s hands. You of course understand.”
Asp looked drearily at the floor. “I’m afraid I do. His last job was like this as well. One small problem, and it becomes impossible to maintain employment. I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to waste your time.” She turned to go.
“Now, ma’am, that’s not fair,” said the shift manager. “It’s a matter of high security. My hands are tied.”
“But so are my husband’s!” cried Asp. “He is sick, too sick to get up. But we need this job. If he is not working at the normal time, we can let him heal. If he needs to work, we can spend what we have to heal him. I need to know–it decides everything for us,” she said seriously.
The dwarf looked around. He lowered his head and his voice. “Mrs. Dewberry, please understand–”
“I understand,” said Asp. “You’re a hard man, sir. You’re deciding that our whole family will go hungry.”
The man winced. “Shhhhh, don’t,” he said quietly but forcefully. “Look, Daniel works tomorrow at late shift change, 2am. And take this,” he said, slipping her a pair of gold coins. “Get him healed and back here, and it will be like none of this ever happened.
Asp took the coins gratefully. “Oh thank you, sir,” she said. “I knew Daniel and I could count on you. Take care,” she said and walked briskly outside.
—
“What’d you find out?” asked Jehosaphat, lounging in an armchair.
“2am,” said Asp casually, plopping down on the couch.
“Just like that,” said Jehosaphat.
“Just like that,” said Asp. “You keep me around for a reason.”
“That we do,” said Jehosaphat. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t surprise me. You were only gone for a few hours.”
Asp laughed. “Oh, I got the info hours ago. I’ve been browsing the marketplace since then.”
Jehosaphat laughed. “Well, I’m glad you’re on our side. What now?”
“I was about to head out and see if there’s anything else to learn,” said Asp. “Nightlife has looser lips, generally.”
“I was just headed out myself,” said Candace, striding into the room. “Walk you out?”
“Sure thing,” said Asp, rising again. “Catch you later, Jehosaphat.”
“Good night, you two,” said Jehosaphat.
“He has no clue,” Candace said when they closed the door behind them.
“No one does,” said Asp. “We’ve been careful.”
“We sure have,” said Candace, tiredness showing in her voice.
“What’s wrong, Candy?” Asp looked up at her as they walked.
“Nothing,” said Candace.
“You’re not as good a poker face as you think,” said Asp playfully.
“It’s really nothing,” said Candace. “Look! They’re all set up!” She pointed to a large tent with an illuminated stage underneath, various seating all around. “Let’s sit up close.”
Candace grabbed Asp’s hand and pulled her towards the front of the crowd. She ushered them to two seats near the center of the first row.
“The set decorations are all a haunted forest. You think they’ll do Agnes and the Haunted Wood?”
“I don’t know that one,” said Asp. The lights went down. The crowd hushed.
“Oh, here we go!” whispered Candace.
—
“That was amazing!” cried Candace. “The Fallen Stranger but as a fable? Brilliant!” She walked confidently through the street, Asp struggling to catch up. “What was your favorite part?”
“Um.” Asp swallowed. “I liked the ending.”
“Me too! Oh, what a good twist! Normally, Gintak kills himself, but founding a university instead was so fitting!”
“Yeah,” said Asp.
Candace slowed down and studied Asp. “You didn’t like it.”
“I liked it!” cried Asp defensively. “I liked the way the actors talked. It was very . . . moving. I wonder if I can do that.”
Candace frowned. “Tell me why you didn’t like it.”
Ask sighed. “It didn’t not like it! I just . . . it was about how if you break yourself into parts, you’re never whole.”
“Right,” said Candace. “So?”
Asp looked sadly at Candace. “So, I’m broken into parts, and I want to be whole.”
“Oh, honey,” said Candace, wrapping Asp in a hug. “You’re not broken. You just choose which parts of yourself to be. You’re more whole than anyone I know.”
Asp wiped a tear from her eye and hugged back tightly. “We’re whole together.”
“We’re whole together,” repeated Candace. “Me and you.”
You can read more short stories here!
No comments:
Post a Comment