[????] - Eighteen Years Prior
How long has it been? Since I've felt fear like this?
Dyin' never concerned me. Someday it'd happen, no doubt. Close calls in my line of work were uncountable, and even when I wasn't on a job, I often had to meet up here: in the Overhang. Rickety old rope bridges swayed at the slightest shift in weight, and the rooftops they laced between were never crafted with care. One slip. One foot on the wrong tile. And I'd be red paint on the dark cobbles far below.
But why consider that? Or the noxious chimney smoke, or the unblinking gargoyles whose stony eyes always followed mine? Tormentin' myself with thoughts that didn't relate to my next meal wasn't just flat pointless, it'd make gettin' that next meal all the harder.
That was why I never liked coming to the Overhang. At least in the city proper I could focus on not gettin' shanked. But here, where few ever came and the silence was deafening?
It was all too easy to think.
"Wick," a voice drifted from further up the rope bridge. A small wisp of flame flickered ahead, fighting to bring light to the city's impenetrable darkness. It was losing. But it had enough power behind it to reveal a face.
"G'morning, Urtica." Yellowed teeth curved into an easy smile. "Toss me a gasper, will ya?"
His words came out gritty and muddy, like he'd dug 'em outta the gutter. But I'd known that voice for far too long to brush it off.
"Here." I fished into my patchwork trousers to pull out a cigarette. I threw it.
The approaching man's hand flew out of the pitch. As dark-skinned fingers caught it, more of him could be seen.
Holes and rips decorated his buttoned coat - though half the buttons were long lost to past scuffles and drunken nights. Fingerless gloves brought the cigarette to his patchy beard - where Wick danced on his other hand's pointer finger. He lit one end with its flame and took a deep puff.
A cloud of fumes spilled from his grin. He raised a brow and tried to hand it to me.
My throat tightened and I caught myself staring. I forced myself to shake my head. He took it back, but not without giving me a stare of his own. "…Suit y'self."
"Where are the lads?" I changed the subject. "We ain't got all day to wait."
"Right on time!" a voice accompanied the flapping of wings on the moist breeze. We turned to find the outline of white wings on the black distance.
The Owlfolk swooped closer, and dropped down onto the rope bridge. It creaked and swayed under the new body weight. Even more than expected, since two pairs of boots landed beside us.
"Now hop off my back!" demanded the Owlfolk. "And pay up - these wings ain't free."
"Alright, alright - don't get your feathers in a twist!" the blindfolded woman jumped off. She grabbed a few copper rounds from various crevices in her belt-laden clothes and shoved them into the man's chest. "Happy, Ow'chie?"
"I told you, I go by Archie now!" he snatched away the money and cocked his head. "I should peck your eyes out for that - oh wait!"
The blind woman snarled. Archie's wide, black eyes stretched even wider. Arms moved for sidearms.
"Eileen, Archie - settle down!" Fraser spoke smoke into their faces. "Y'guys kill each other an' we won't hesitate to take your cut."
Attitude stuck to their faces. But they knew how dangerous backtalk was with him.
"Right…" Archie shrank a little. "Let's hear this job you've got for us."
Eileen's tongue sucked sharp teeth. "Yup. I'm fresh outta rounds at the moment."
"Gather round, then - this one's big." Fraser leaned against the side of the rope bridge, tilting the ground beneath us. "Down past Hatchard Street, there's this orphanage where the fog lightens up. Modest place. Cozy-like."
"There's an orphanage near Hatchard Street?" asked Eileen. "And it ain't ancient history yet?"
Fraser shook his head. "There's good reason why it hasn't been picked apart. It's being protected. Or it was. See, word from my contacts at the Brokerage is, the headmistress in charge doesn't care a lick for the little urchins. To survive, she pawns 'em off to buyers of all sorts when they get to a certain age. Pickpockets-to-be, scouts, laborers… and those are the good options."
A pit in my stomach sank deeper. So deep it dropped off the rope bridge and hit the streets below, where purple lanterns glinted faintly in the fog like old, fallen stars.
"…Disgusting," Archie scrunched his face.
"Maybe. But it's her living," Fraser added. "Comfy living, too, after she shook hands on a deal to only hand the urchins over to a particular group. But recently that same group caught wind of her passing the "commodities" over to a third party. She broke the contract. They want payback."
Sounds like this third party has the deepest pockets of everyone.
"Now you're talkin'," Eileen rubbed hands together. "What's the dirty work?"
Fraser took another puff from the gasper, and deactivated Wick, letting his face fully dive into the darkness. "We're burnin' down the orphanage."
Even Eileen's smile fell, then. "…What?"
"It's what we're gettin' paid to do," is all he said.
"I… Is there another way?" Archie asked quietly. "Can't we just teach her a lesson and leave?"
Fraser eyed him. "Another way? To make rounds? Sure. Sign up for the Blood Trade. They don't care if the blood comes from a Wildfolk."
Archie turned pale, even with a face covered in tufts of feathers. "D-deal with those bloodsucking freaks? No thanks…"
"Then man up," Fraser said.
"…What about the children?" I asked.
Fraser turned to me, and smiled. "Almost forgot you were here. Look, urchins know what fire is like everyone else. Shade, they'll crack open a window. If they don't, they wouldn't survive the streets anyway. And don't ask me why this 'mystery' group wants to go so far, or anything else that needles you. Jobs like this don't get handed to the over-curious."
I wasn't satisfied with his answer. Fraser noticed.
"…Something's been off with you," he came closer. "Not just today - the last few weeks. You've never been this quiet, Urtica. Talk to me."
My nerves got prickly. I knew this secret of mine would come out sooner or later. All I could do was brace myself.
"Fraser… I'm… I think we'll be parents soon."
Ice picked at my skin as I spoke. I expected knuckles to fly for my jaw. They never came.
The man's gaze dropped down to my stomach and stayed there for several long seconds. His hand did move. To caress it.
"…A baby," he finally said, his words as soft as I'd ever heard. He noticed how still I was. "You thought I'd be angry, didn't you?"
I nodded. Relief slowly spilled back into my chest. He won't try to get rid of me… or the baby.
"Why would I be?"
Something of a small smile warmed my face. "I… I don't know." I even managed a laugh.
He did too. "I always go on about needin' new blood in our little gang."
And then the smile was gone.
"Heard that?" he turned back to the others. "We got a baby on the way."
Eileen and Archie smiled, if a little awkwardly. They'd seen a lot over the years. None of that was the birth of new life.
By the time Fraser turned back, I forced the positive expression back on my ace. "Guess the little goblin would count as old blood - our old blood," he noted, "but you get the picture. With the rounds from this score, it'll be lax for a long time. We'll have the room to get our kid some good food, drink. Grow 'em up tough. Then we'll introduce 'em to the 'family business'."
"The family business?" asked Archie.
"This," Fraser explained. "Survivin' the streets. With us around, nobody'll mess with the baby. We'll raise 'em into someone who's never scared, who scares everyone who looks at 'em, who never balks at gettin' their hands dirty. Into someone even better than us at what we do."
He started to laugh, a rare sparkle shining in his eye. "Ah, but, I'm gettin' ahead of myself. First, the job itself. I've got everything planned out. All you three," he smiled, "four gotta do, is listen."
Few times over the many years we'd been acquainted had he ever been so genuinely happy.
Just like, on the other hand, had I never been so terrified.
—————————————————————————————————
White wings sliced through the city's fog, circling dark rooftops and darker skies. Thanks to the thick haze and distance, unsuspecting people would think they belonged to the silhouette of a particularly large pigeon, if they even noticed their owner in the first place. To me, though? I knew full-well who soared over my head.
To Archie? He was part-owl. What couldn't he see?
And that was exactly the point. From up there, he acted as our eyes in the sky. Had anyone approached, he'd "dissuade" them from coming too close to the next part of our plan.
Sobbin' cut through the silent streets. Loud enough that even a wrinkled old hag - a bag of groceries hanging off the arm of her wheelchair - stopped to hear it. For a split-moment, a thin-lipped smile lined her face.
Then she threw on a face of worry and rushed for the voice.
The headmistress found it quickly - belonging to a little blindfolded girl in a dead-end alley dotted with black weeds and luminescent mushrooms.
"Hello, tulip," her sitting shadow stretched down the alley. "What ever could be the matter?"
"I… I lost my parents," the little girl sniffled through her words. "Do you know… where they went?"
"Why, no, I can't say that I do. But I can bring you somewhere warm and nice, while we wait for them to come find you. How does that sound?"
The girl wiped her nose with a too-long sleeve. "That… that sounds… okay."
"Wonderful!" the old woman clasped two pale hands together. "I was just on the way to whip up some stew, tulip. Follow me - my residence isn't far."
We did follow, hot on the trail of her squeaking wheels. She cut through the ominous streets like they were her backyard, smiling like no old woman should in the barren borough. I figured that'd change once we arrived at her orphanage.
An old, spired structure jut into the airs of the city, its side coming just past the edge of the stone foundation. A steep drop loomed underneath - the pointed spires of buildings below waiting like a bed of spikes. And, typical of the labyrinthian city, the bases of other spired buildings stood above the peak of the orphanage. But I didn't have to consider the verticality of our surroundings. That was Archie's job. All I had to do was wait, and let the headmistress bring the little girl through the front doors.
All that awaited me was muffled conversation, and the faraway chime of an echoing bell. A few minutes later, the doors slowly yawned open.
Outside, peeked the face of the headmistress. "You can turn off that invisi-whatever art now, Fraser," she spoke in the old woman's breathy tone.
Fraser, beside me, did as much, and the dark magic that obscured our bodies left us. Eileen dropped her own disguise as we did, morphing from her glamour to her original form.
"Have you done everything according to the plan?" Fraser questioned.
"Uh, yeah?" Eileen leaned on her cane.
He cleared his throat.
She sighed, and stepped outside. "Old hag took me in, I asked her to show me around. She finally brought me to a room without snotnosed brats in it and I knifed her. Took her keys and her face, locked her in the room, and went down to all the kids and told 'em to go to their rooms and not bother me. I locked 'em in. And now I'm lookin' at your mug."
Fraser nodded. "Good. Seems you're finally learnin' how to follow directions."
He brushed past Eileen on his way to the doors. She bounced her head around to wordlessly mock him, then followed inside. I buried a smile and went in behind them.
A crackling hearth's heat caught us like a warm mattress as we spread into the broad, serene foyer. Clean, undamaged coats hung on healthy wooden walls, and the small windows weren't boarded up like with so many other places. Stairs weren't cloaked in dust. The second floor hadn't caved in on the first. I even saw a genuine flower blooming from a pot on a table.
Seems the hag wasn't lying.
I moved in deeper than the others, peering around corners and down halls. Along one was a series of doors. Under them, I saw the shadows of shuffling little feet.
"…Urtica? If you'd be so kind?"
I snapped out of it. "Sorry."
"Hey, I get it," said Fraser. "Nice place. Almost wish we could repurpose it."
"I wouldn't know," Eileen added wryly. "Let's get this over with."
She's right. This is just another job. Faster you finish, the faster it'll be a memory. One you can forget with enough booze and Echo… or, no. I'll have to avoid those too, carrying this baby. Dammit.
I moved for the center of the room, tossing aside anything that'd get in the way.
"I'll need you to fetch the hag," I told Eileen.
"You want me to do it?" she asked. "Fine. But you better have started your little art project by the time I haul her back here."
She left. And with her gone, I could finally find a shred of focus.
I closed my eyes. "Necromantic Circle."
—————————————————————————————————
"So…" Eileen tapped her cane against the floor, "what're you naming your future daughter? Oh, or son, if you get unlucky."
Normally Fraser would've shut her up. No idle talk on a job - he always said. Apparently this conversation didn't count.
"Tough. If the little goblin's a girl?" he pondered. "Nisha. Yeah. And if it's a boy…?"
…Can they shut their traps? This ain't easy…
I sat cross-legged inside the purple ritual circle, simple shapes rotating under my arse alongside eldritch shapes no language could ever make sense of. My eyelids sealed shut; my posture was more statue-like than a gargoyle's. But I still struggled.
I was never much good at necromancy. Other facets of dark magic? I was someone to fear. But necromancy always thorned me where the moon didn't shine. Even with a ring of candles swiped from around the orphanage, and salt sprinkled onto the circle, and the hag in front of me having died not fifteen minutes ago, well…
The hag's corpse jerked. The foyer went quiet.
"…Did she do it?" asked Archie.
"Not…yet…" I grit teeth.
It was possible. But the worst was yet to come.
All magic had a price. Power arts tired the body. Mind arts tired the brain. But necromancy asked for extra. The candles? Salt? Helpful, but you didn't need them. What you did need was something you couldn't touch. Couldn't feel, until you lost it.
A measly, tiny, sliver of you.
Your soul. Essence. Life force. I never tried to put a word to all that bookish-talk. But I knew something in it was truth. A truth I relived, when a fresh strip of me was peeled off yet again.
One I'd never get back.
"Agh!" I bent over.
"Are you okay?" asked Archie.
"She'll be fine," added Fraser. "Urtica, hurry and give her the order."
I winced, and toiled to stand. There's a reason I never practiced.
When I looked up, I saw my thrall. Other than the drying blood around the gash in her throat, slack jaw, and unfocused grey eyes, the hag looked the same as she did at first sight. Well, except for her missing a wheelchair. But supporting a bad back was the least of what my magic had done.
I stared - ignoring the fading pain. Hag. I know you hear me.
I hadn't even opened my mouth. But the raised woman opened hers in response, and drawled out a wordless noise.
Good. Then turn around. And walk to the fireplace at the end of the room.
The hag followed the demands to the unspoken letter. Soon she stood over the flickering flame. Orange danced over her drooping wrinkles.
There's… a reason for what I'm going to tell you to do. There is.
I thought back to our conversation in the Overhang.
—————————————————————————————————
"So we gotta pin it on her?" Archie scratched his arm with talon-like fingers.
Fraser nodded. "There can't be any hint of foul play, get me? This gets linked back to us and our heads'll get unlinked from our necks."
Archie's face went whiter than usual. "Those are the kind of buyers we're dealing with this time? Abyss. But, I don't get it. She'll know we aren't letting her off the hook alive. There's no way she'll burn down her own orphanage for us."
"Oh, she will," Eileen promised. "We'll just rip off fingernails 'till she sees things our way."
"Won't work," I shook my head. "None of us have an art that muffles noise. The kids will hear her screaming. They panic, and they might do somethin' drastic. Maybe even escape and draw attention to us. We can't have that on a hush job."
Eileen scratched her head. "I mean, I guess you're not wrong. But what are you thinkin'?"
—————————————————————————————————
Reach into the hearth, I commanded, and grab a stick of firewood.
Dead fingers delved into the crackling flame. The hag grunted, but couldn't argue. A charred stick of firewood soon smoked in her hand.
I demanded she shamble to the walls of the foyer. To ignite hanging paintings. Incinerate coats and clothes. And to ignite the base of the stairs so that no one could ever climb them again.
Fraser glanced around at the budding flames that lit his face much better than Wick ever could. He smiled. A job well done, he must've thought. And in a way, he was right. There were other ways to start a fire - like with Wick, or the candles at my feet. But once smoke rolled up the chimney and into the city air, people would know. Eyes would be outside. Even Archie couldn't keep all that at bay.
So we had to make this fast and thorough. Burn the orphanage down and go.
Torch this whole place. Leave no room standin'.
"All right," Fraser turned. "Let's get goin'."
He focused, preparing to cast an art that'd cloak us in invisibility and let us skip the scene unnoticed.
And… one last order. Before you let this place burn you to cinders. When we leave…
Open the bedroom windows.
—————————————————————————————————
"Mudrats - get'cha sum extra-juicy mudrats for sale!" A skinny person of unclear gender waved around several of the animals on a stick.
A man in a plague mask drew sweeping motions of his cape over a table of bottles, all glowing in bright, inviting colors. "Alchemical concoctions of all sorts! Tinctures to sharpen the senses! Potions for a good night's sleep. Philtres for…" he thrust his hips, "endurance."
"Beds fer sale!" a toothless woman gummed at us. "Roach eggs minimal!"
The Exchange's blend of noise flung past and over our heads as we traveled through its bendy, grungy lanes. Desperate barks of vendors, hacking of the diseased, begging of the dirt-poor, trotting of worn boots and bare feet.
In the past, I found the place comforting. It was one of the few places in the city that hadn't changed since I was a little girl. Factions wrestled for power. People close to you one day would vanish the next. Abyss, even the same-old streets brought you to new parts of the city each time you walked 'em - for better or worse.
But recently I'd started to look at them from a different angle. A much, much shorter one.
"And you, Eileen?" Archie - smartly - whispered under the light of a purple lantern. "What'll you spend your cut on?"
Her cane swept ahead of her feet, scanning for dips and pointed stones in the ground. "Don't ask me - I didn't think that far ahead. They gave more than I expected. So, I dunno. I'll probably just blow it on half a year's worth of Echo. There's some experiences I've been itchin' to try."
His face dropped. "Should've known. Well, how about you, Urtica?"
I mulled over my words. "I haven't had this many rounds… ever, before. Maybe, it's time to hang up the hat."
"What?" he asked.
"Hang up the-" Fraser cackled. "Are you crazy? It's a good payload, but it won't last a year. What'll you do when the rounds run dry? Sell yourself? Sell your blood? "
My eyes narrowed. "No and no."
"Then what?" he stopped. "You ain't cut out for the Night Sentry, and the Brokerage won't take someone who only knows petty work. It all circles back to this. There's other gangs, but mine is the best you'll find - believe me."
"That's what worries me, Fraser."
He glared. His fists tightened. "…I know what this is about. The baby. It's your mood, it's changin' - tellin' you things that don't make sense. Listen to me. We have fun nights. We get to lose ourselves in Echo. We haven't starved in months. We've got a good thing goin'."
"It's not good enough! Not for-"
My right cheek hit the mud. Liquid ran hot down the left.
I looked up, eyes blurry. An incantation sprung to mind. A violent one.
Don't. You're not in a state to fight back. Not… when there's more than your life to lose.
I dropped the incantation, as Fraser cut his glare across the narrow, bending lane. "What're you gits lookin' at!?"
Beggars sitting beside smoking grates turned quickly away. Barkers rushed back to selling at a whisper. Even Eileen and Archie just took a fearful step back.
Fraser blew a breath. He reached into his pocket, lit a cigarette with Wick, and fastened his coat. "Get up, already," he finally told me. "We need ta' start lightenin' our pockets."
I just stared. I'd never been scared of him. But I was scared to death of what he could do to our baby. "…You're right."
His brows furrowed.
"There ain't nothin' better for us in this city."
A slight, yellow-toothed smile slashed across his face. "Yup. There ain't."
—————————————————————————————————
I couldn't do it right after. Fraser was always a suspicious man - especially after I spoke my mind. He liked to keep tabs on us - ask what we were up to.
It was only a month after the fact that I felt safe to go back to the Exchange alone, and pick up a certain somethin' with the rounds I'd barely touched since our job. And it was only after another that I had the chance to spring my plan.
"Am I the last one here?" I closed the creaky door behind me.
"You're right on time!" Archie spread his wings across the sides of his ripped couch. "You got the good stuff?"
"Say you do, Urtica," Eileen's dagger-like teeth grinned wide. "Say it!"
My sight turned from the left couch to the right couch. Then to the middle, where the biggest couch spread. "What's with all the lead-in?" Fraser crossed his legs. "You didn't forget the drink, didja?"
I scratched my face. "Actually, I… have it right here."
I swung around a satchel on my back and dug inside it. Out of it came a bottle of gin in the shape of a lantern.
Fraser tilted his head. "Not your funniest, Urtica. Just bring it over, will ya?"
My face flattened. "Fine."
I dropped the satchel near the door, then passed Eileen's cane and legs to sit beside Fraser - on the side of the couch with a missing cushion. He'd already set out for glasses on a table between us. I bent forward. And filled each one - my own last.
Fraser cleared his throat as I did. "Now that we've got everyone here - at my new domicile, I'll add - let's get down ta' brass tacks. We've had ourselves a little break, and a lotta good times, but there's still the matter of putting rounds back in the same pockets we're takin' so many out of. I say that all that to say this: we got ourselves another bleedin' job."
Smiles grew at my sides. Archie and Eileen quickly took gulps out of the pricy gin.
"About time!" gin trickled down Eileen's mouth. "What's the breakdown, boss?"
"First, a little background. But, hm." Fraser turned to me. "I couldn't help but notice something, Urtica… the seal on that bottle was already opened."
My heart skipped a beat. I didn't let it show.
I looked at him. Smiled. "You got me, Fraser." Then I threw back half my cup of gin. "Carrying around booze as ritzy as this, I couldn't stop myself from taking a sip early.
His brows jumped; he caught himself and chuckled. "You always know how to surprise me. I can't wait to see what that booze makes you do tonight." He leaned back, and drank some of his own. "Now, back to what I was saying…"
Murder. Thievin'. Torturin' and more damn fires. Fraser had big plans. Plans that'd pave the way for our kid to born into a city where he'd be handed down more jobs just like these. And as he went on… I started to get sleepy.
My eyelids batted against my will. My arms and legs got sluggish and heavy.
I wasn't the only one. Archie and Eileen reclined in their seats. And Fraser's bold words started to slur.
My eyes closed. When I pulled them open, everyone around me was asleep.
P…perfect.
I pushed myself out of my seat on the couch - and tripped onto the table in front of me. The pain of the fall and the glasses rolling from under me helped wake me up some, at least. But it wouldn't be enough. That barker with the plague mask knew some potent alchemy. That sleeping potion of his that I mixed with the gin was impossible to fight off. At least, I hoped, without help from his tinctures that sharpened the mind. I drank several on the way here. But even the effect of so many - after so much time spent listening to Fraser prattle on - was fading fast.
I reached for the end of the table, and pulled myself across and over. My chest hit the wooden floorboards. More pain would keep me awake - just a little while longer.
My legs? I didn't trust them to keep me standing. I crawled, throwing one hand forward to pull, then throwing up the other. All the way across the room. Again my eyelids started to fall.
Can't… fall asleep. Don't… fall…
They came to a close like thousand-pound doors. Just as my hand hit something. Heavy eyes surged open for the last time. My fingers laid on the satchel I left by the door.
So close!
I threw open the zipper and dragged out a bubbling cyan bottle. Another tincture to light fire in the senses. I weakly brought it closer to my lips as I flipped on my back.
I don't remember what happened next.
But I do remember jerking upright.
"Abyss!" energy flared throughout my body and mind and my thoughts and blood moved ten miles a minute!
The tincture splashed over my face. I swiped a sleeve over my face as shivers bolted through me. The rush faded over the next seconds. But its energizing shock stayed inside me. For the time being, I couldn't even recall what sleepiness felt like.
I rose off the ground, taking the satchel with me. Inside, more of the tinctures sat. I'd need 'em.
"You can't hear me, Fraser," I turned back. "You'll be knocked out for the better part of a bloody day. But I hope somewhere in there, you remember this. By the time you come to, I'll be long gone. Because, you had a point. There ain't a better life for us in this city. This damned hellhole of a country, even. But you helped me see the that I've been thinkin' too small, all this time."
I turned back. "There's even further I can go. Somewhere your contacts in the Brokerage can't find me. Find us."
My hand shoved through the door. Outside, shadowy streets and spires awaited me. It was said that the city stretched wider than even the largest city in Lumerit. Possibly even all of Sanctuary. But I'd escape. I had to. I rushed out onto the street with an endless pool of energy. I ran. And ran.
And ran.
I heard him give you two names, back in the orphanage. He should be kept far, far away from you. But… maybe it'd be wrong not to let him pick out one thing for you. He is your father, after all, Nisha.
Or… Niles.