The door opened and Maine dashed inside, pushing aside Dandy as he stood there blinking sleepily. Before he could react, she slammed the door behind her and threw the latch. “Sorry,” she said in a rush, running to the nearest window. She pulled the curtains in place, then peered out through a thin slit, looking up and down the street. “Can’t be sure my brother hasn’t sent people after me.”
“Wait? Maine!?” Dandy gaped, his jaw hanging open. He was just about the same age as Maine, but taller than her, and much skinner, even for an Elf. He ran a hand through his uncombed mop of brown hair and patted his wrinkled, slept in clothes, clearly at a loss. “What’s going on? When did you get back?”
She glanced back at him in irritation. “Two days ago! I broke out of school and was hiding out in the attic so I could stop my brother’s stupid Auction.” He blinked again, staring blankly at her. “And thanks for the help with that, by the way,” she said tartly.
“I didn’t even know you were back,” he said defensively.
She continued to peer out the window, squinting down the street in either direction. “I sent you a note about it.”
He pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and shook it out. “What? Do you mean this?” He started to read aloud:
Back streets in lonely Coney
Need trembling help
Find friends in enemy’s attic
Bring fairy dynamite
She glanced back. “Yeah, exactly.”
His ears twitched in irritation. “Maine, I couldn’t make heads or tails of it!”
Maine shut the curtains tight and turned around, giving him Miss Imi’s best ‘I’m very disappointed in you for dissecting a frog on our fine serving platter’ expression. “It’s a skip code,” she explained patiently. “You take the first and third in every sentence to get the message. It’s simple!”
He blinked, staring at her. “How the heck am I supposed to know that? For all I knew, I just got a crazy letter in the mail!”
“Why? Do you get letters often?” she asked, setting Ifri’s lantern down on the kitchen table. Dandy’s family lived in a narrow, slanting home shoved between two tenement buildings in lower Old Coney. It was clean… and that was about the best thing that could be said for it. The mortar was crumbling from the walls pinching in on either side of them, the floorboards shivered with every step, and several of the cracks in the windows had been plugged with rags and newspaper, but there was a homey feel to it that Maine rather enjoyed, a lived in quality that was lacking sometimes from the large, frequently empty Maierson Mansion.
Dandy was looking a little embarrassed now, shuffling his feet and looking down. “No, this was the first,” he admitted.
She smiled at him. “Well then, you should’ve known it was important.”
Following the unerring instincts of all younger siblings, Dandy’s brother and sisters chose that moment to trample down the stairs. The girls ran pell mell through the kitchen, all gingham dresses, pigtails, and buck teeth, bouncing off the table and walls, chanting all the while, “Dandy got a letter from a girl!”, while their younger brother just shouted loudly, trailing behind them. Dandy dropped his shoulders, sighing.
Maine clapped her hands, laughing. “Good Morning, Thistle! Good Morning, Dockleaf!” The two girls, all smiling teeth and pigtails came to a stop in front of her.
“Good Morning, Miss Maierson,” they said in unison, giving her a shaky bow. Less than a year apart, they were alike enough to be twins.
Maine smiled back at them, then looked over their heads to their little brother. “Good Morning, Mugwort!” she called, but the toddler just continued to run in circles, laughing wildly.
Dandy waved his arm to the table. “C’mon you lot. Let’s get you breakfast before school.” He started to go to the cupboards, rummaging through them, while the girls hurried to set the table. Maine felt a tug on her leg.
Mug was staring up at her, grasping at her pants. “Ifi?” he asked simply.
She grinned at him and grabbed her lantern. Setting it down on the floor, she clicked open the lid and stepped back, taking a firm hold on Mug’s overalls as he lurched forwards towards the open flame inside. She held him back as they watched. Slowly, Ifri’s head poked out, peering around the room, his head bobbing curiously. Thistle and Dockleaf giggled from the table as the kitten tumbled out, sniffing and scratching at the floor. Maine released Mug and he toddled forwards, giggling. The kitten tensed and then dashed off, Mugg chasing after her. They began to circle the room in a game, Ifri never letting Mugg get too close, and even jumping back at him, paws raised, to send the little boy running away, shrieking with laughter.
Dandy had gotten the big pan off the wall and had lit the fires in the old stove. “Do we have any eggs?” Thistle asked, sitting down.
“I want eggs!” her sister agreed.
“No, no eggs,” he shook his head. “How about some buckwheat cakes?”
The two girls moaned. “We had that yesterday!”
“And the day before!”
“Well, it’s all we’ve got,” he told them. “We’ve got some leftover bacon from last night as well, and a bit of tomato left over from yesterday, I can fry that up as well,” he offered as they started to pout. “I”ll see if I can get some eggs today, I promise.”
“Hen eggs,” Thistle clarified.
“Hen!”
Dandy sniffed, “Picky eaters!” He cut strips of bacon off a slab, that was really at this point more of a shaving, and started to drop them in the pan. As they sizzled, he grabbed a wrapped up lump of cloth from the cabinet and started to slice up a few barely ripened tomatoes.
“Can I help?” Maine asked, and he nodded towards the large mixing bowl.
“Get the buckwheat started for me? Thanks.” As she started to measure and pour, Dandy busied himself at the stove, flipping the bacon and starting to fry the tomatoes. His lips were pursed, watching the pan, and she noticed for the first time that they had been recently split. The knuckles on his hands were red and swollen as well, and there was a dark bruise along his cheek.
Glancing quickly at the younger children, Maine edged closer to him. “What happened there?” she whispered, looking at his hands.
He laughed slightly, wincing a little as he bit his lip. “Oh, the 33rd Street Boys had a clash with the Docker Gobs,” he said. He stood a little straighter, throwing out what might one day be his chest. “The Gobs were trying to claim the old lot on the corner, so we had to shove them off, teach’em where their street starts and ours ends, you know?”
She looked again at his wounds. “Uh huh. So who got taught?”
Dandy grunted sourly. “We did.” He pushed the tomato slices around, scraping them off the pan. “It’s not fair! Ever since they brought Little Wrex in, they win all the fights. He’s not even a Gob!” He stared darkly at the frying tomatoes.
Maine watched him for a moment, then scooted a bit closer. “Well, if you want, I could-” she started to say.
There was the sound of heavy footfalls and Maine jumped back. “Morning, Dad!” Dandy called and his sisters echoed him as their father stumbled down the stairs.
He was a tall and wiry Elf with Dandy’s same mop of brown-colored hair. He had a good-natured face, though it was heavily lined and tired looking. Yawning heavily, he rubbed at his deep-shadowed eyes as he pulled up his overall straps one by one. “Good, heuwh, Morning!” he called to his family. Then he blinked and stared as he noticed Maine for the first time, and she quickly gave him a bow.
“Good Morning, Mr Berria!”
“Oh, Good Morning, Miss Maierson,” he said, touching the tip of his forehead quickly. They both stood there awkwardly, unsure of exactly what to say next. “I, uh, didn’t know you were back in town,” he said finally.
“School let out early,” she lied quickly. At the stove, Dandy snorted, but hid it by scraping at the pan again.
“If you say so,” Mr Berria shrugged. He bent and snatched up Mug as he raced by, and hauled him up in the air, hugging him tight. “C’mere you rascal!” He carried the laughing toddler back to the table and sat down, bouncing him on his knee. Smiling at his daughters, he looked around the room. “Is your mother back yet?”
“No, it’s still early,” Dandy said from the stove, his face still buried in the pan.
“Hopefully she can see you girls off,” he sighed. He bounced the giggling Mug on his knee, looking fondly at his daughters. “Speaking of school, you both better hurry,” he nodded to them.
Dandy was there in a moment, dumping bacon and tomatoes on all their plates. “They’ll be ready, don’t you worry, Dad!” he promised. The girls began tearing into this food with gusto as Mr Berria watched happily, but he started to protest as Dandy pushed a generous helping of bacon on his plate.
“Aw, I’m not hungry, Dandy. Save some for yourself.”
“You need to keep your strength up, Dad!” Dandy said fiercely. “What time did you get back in last night?”
His father sighed tiredly, looking up at the ceiling. “Late. Well after midnight, I think.”
“You’re working too hard,” Dandy told him, bustling back to the stove. He looked at the pan full of bacon grease, frowning.
Mrow?
Ifri was sitting by him, looking expectantly up. Dandy took the pan and tipped it over, pouring the grease into the tiny kitten’s waiting mouth. Ifri swallowed it down eagerly, still mewing, then he let up a flaming belch that nearly reached to the ceiling. Thistle and Dockleaf burst into applause and Mug laughed with delight.
Dandy took the mixing bowl from Maine and started to ladle out the batter into the pan. As the pancakes started to sizzle, Thistle suddenly spoke up between a mouthful of bacon, “Dandy got in another fight.” Their father blinked and turned, looking at Dandy as he hissed angrily at his sister.
“It was only a little one,” Dandy promised him.
Rather than looking angry, Mr Berria only shook his head ruefully. “They bring the Troll again?” he asked.
“Yeah…” Dandy admitted glumly.
His father chuckled. “If you need me to tell you not to fight a Troll, there’s not much sense in me doing it, is there?” He poked playfully at Mug’s stomach. “Let’s hope you grow up smarter than this one, eh?” he told the young boy.
“It’s not fair,” Dandy complained. “Having a Troll in a Goblin gang.”
“Well you can complain about it, or be smarter,” his father told him frankly. “Why don’t you find your own heavy? I see Grub’s daughter wandering around the streets a lot; invite her into the gang. I think she’s lonely, poor thing.”
Dandy turned round in shock. “We can’t invite an Ogre into the gang!” he said, appalled at the very idea.
“Why not?”
“Well-well, it’s not right!” he said lamely. He hurried to the table, still fretting, and pushed a few pancakes onto the girls’ plates. “And besides… She’s a- a- a girl!”
Maine stared at Dandy, and he had the good sense at least to flinch. “What does that have to do with anything?” she asked him. Dandy buried his head back down in the pan, refusing to answer, and Mr Berria just laughed.
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“She’s the same age as you and bigger than I am,” he pointed out. “Invite her to the gang, and I don’t think you’ll have any more problems.”
The door unlocked and pushed open. With a sigh, a woman entered, wrapped in a long hooded cloak that fell down to her ankles. Mug started to strain towards her, arms out, while Thistle and Dockleaf pushed back their chairs and ran towards the door. “Mommy!” they cried.
“Hello, my darlings,” the woman said, pushing back her hood. Radiant golden blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders in curls and waves, and a beautiful, breathtaking face smiled gently at them. The girls skidded to a stop, staring at their mother. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her perfect brow furrowing.
Thistle looked down, shuffling her feet, while Dockleaf just stared. “You’re beautiful, Mommy,” she said at last, awed.
Mrs Berria blinked and laughed. “Oh, sorry! I forgot to take off my face again, didn’t I?” She concentrated. Her long, shining hair started to recede, shrinking back up her shoulders and neck, straightening and thinning out, while gradually darkening from blonde to chestnut. Her plucked eyebrows and tiny, pointed ears lengthed and grew, sprouting off her face. Her flawless skin faded away as freckles spread across her nose and cheeks. “There now,” she said with some relief, her perfect teeth now crooked and slightly overlarge. She knelt down, and the girls ran into her arms, hugging her tightly. “Aww, my darlings, my darlings! I missed you,” she said, kissing both of their heads.
“Hey, Mom!” Dandy cried to her, still busy at the stove. “I’ll have breakfast on the table for you in a second!”
“Oh thank you, I’m starving,” she said, sighing as she climbed to her feet. She wore a rich, sleek red dress with a deep, plunging neckline, that was currently very unfilled, since she’d taken off her Glammour. She caught sight of Maine and stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh, hello Miss Maierson,” she said, quickly giving her a curtsy. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Hello,” Maine said awkwardly. She wasn’t used to dealing with Mothers and didn’t quite know what to say. “It’s nice to see you again?” she tried. Mrs Berria smiled and nodded.
Mr Berria rose from the table and embraced his wife, still holding Mug to his chest. He hugged her even more tightly than the girls, kissing her lips and her ear.
“Did you get in all right?” he asked, looking closely at her.
Mrs Berria nodded, holding onto him tightly. “No problems,” she assured him. “Just a long night. How about you?”
“Eh, I’m good,” he said, patting her shoulder. He handed Mug over to his waiting mother, and then reached inside his shirt, pulling out a folded wad of bills. “I got paid last night, a bit extra since I helped sweep up the foreman’s office.” She took the money gratefully and tucked it away. He watched her nuzzle Mug for a moment, then he added, “I’ll be working late again tonight, probably.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, bouncing Mug. “It’s all the way up in Brooklyn...”
“It’s good money,” he shrugged. He snagged a last bit of bacon from his plate, kissed both his daughters on top of their heads, and ruffled Dandy’s hair as he tried to squirm out of the way. “Good bye, my lovelies!” he called, heading for the door.
Mrs Berria watched sadly as the door closed behind him, then sat at the table, picking absently at her food as she balanced Mug on her lap. The girls were tearing into their pancakes, giggling and laughing. Maine edged closer to Dandy, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.
Keeping her voice lowered, she got his attention. “I need your help with something.”
His eyes flickered towards his mother for a moment. “What is it?” he hissed back.
“Not now,” she told him. Her eyes went to the door. “Outside.”
He looked panicked. “Hold on, I’ve got to-”
“Miss Maierson?” his mother asked suddenly. Maine jumped and turned towards her quickly.
Mrs Berria seemed to be busy with Mug, but Maine thought she saw her eyes watching her cooly. “Uh, I just wanted to ask how the Auction went this morning? I heard there might have been trouble?”
It might have been an innocent question, but it sounded too much like Miss Imi for Maine’s liking. “Oh, it went fine,” she said quickly, forcing a laugh.
Mrs Berria looked surprised. “No trouble?”
Maine laughed again. “Ah, well… Maybe a little trouble? I’m dealing with it - WE’RE dealing with it,” she assured her. Mrs Berria’s brows furrowed. Thistle and Dockleaf looked at each other quickly. “Umm… Who was saying there might be trouble?” Maine asked, desperate to change the subject.
“Well, the girls in the Glade love to gossip,” she said, waving her hand. “They were talking about a big protest. Some of them even left early to join it.”
“Oh, well, I… might have seen a riot,” Maine admitted slowly.
“A riot?! I thought it was just a protest…”
“Well, it was a little one,” Maine stammered. “Very small…”
Everyone was watching her now, even Mug. She took a firm stance, hands on her hips, projecting absolute confidence, just like her Gran would’ve, and summoned every motivational speech she’d ever heard on the Factory floor.
“It’s okay though,” she told them. “We didn’t manage to meet our short-term goals, but we’re re-strategizing now to meet our new long-term goals- that we didn’t know we had till this morning. We’re going to capitalize on our collective strengths however, and um…” She struggled, searching for the right words. “We’re going to synergy- uh, synergize with our products and group innovation!” She paused, trying to remember how nearly every speech ended in the Factory. “Oh yeah, and no overtime!”
Mrs Berria gave her a slow nod, looking rather stunned. “That- That sounds promising.” Maine nodded fiercely, pleased they’d bought it. Behind her, Thistle and Dockleaf shared a look and Dandy just shook his head.
He threw the pan in the sink and started to wipe off his hands. “Uh, Maine was asking if she could come visit Sweetwaters with me,” he asked his Mother quickly. “I’ve got some deliveries I was going to make for them today so I was going to stop by anyways.”
Mrs Berria frowned as his sisters’ perked up. “Can you get us some Sugared Fairies?” Thistle asked.
“And Candied Slugs!”
“And Sweetwater Taffy!”
Mrs Berria held up a hand. “Fine!” she said, rolling her eyes. “Get your sisters a little something, but I need you back before I leave for work tonight. No staying out late!” she told him. He and Maine were halfway to the door when she added, “And drop your sisters off at school on the way!”
Maine and Dandy let the two girls walk in front of them, far enough ahead that they could talk privately. Still, Dandy lowered his voice and leaned in closer. “So tell me the truth: was it really that bad?”
She sighed and watched Ifri nose through the gutter, running free to the side of them. He poked and pawed at the apple-cores and other trash piling up in the streets, waiting for the Kobolds to make their rounds.
“It wasn’t great,” she admitted. “Everyone’s upset at us now, thanks to Matthew.” She kicked at the dirt. “The Auction’s the worst idea he ever had.” She told him everything that had occurred that morning, from the FIrstborn, to Fink, to even finding Ifri again. It took more than a whole block to get it all out.
He leaned back, hands behind his head, and whistled. “The Firstborn, wow…”
Maine looked at him carefully. “What do you know about them?”
“I’ve heard stories,” he shrugged. “They’re an Elder only gang, but like- more than a gang. Freedom fighters, or something like that. Political. Supposed to be spread all throughout the country too, not just in the City.”
Maine frowned. She hadn’t considered that. It was one thing if the artifacts from the Auction were still in the City, but what if they were already on their way out? Could they follow them across the country?
She caught Dandy watching her. “What?”
“Before you ask, I don’t know anyone who’s a member,” he told her. “Or anyone who deals with them.” He shook his head. “And from what I hear, they really don’t like people poking around their business.”
“Well, I don’t like being robbed, either,” Maine snapped. She glanced to the side to see Ifri hissing at two Imps, perched on top of a full trash can. They were beating their wings and hurling little bits of garbage at the kitten, but they weren’t driving him off. He was locked in place, eyes focused, hindquarters wiggling, till he suddenly pounced springing up at them. The Imps took to the sky, clawing for the air. Ifri landed in the can with a frustrated howl, clawing and scrambling for the sides as he sank down into the garbage.
“I’ve got another way,” she told Dandy.
He looked at her, a little scared. “How exactly?”
Maine watched as the base of the can started to glow, swelling out as the metal expanded. Flames burst from the top like a volcano, shooting sparks and burning vegetable peelings over the alleyway. Ifri scrambled up to the rim, his coat red and smoking, and then sat and began to clean himself, looking immensely satisfied.
“Henna,” she told him. “I want you to find Henna for me.”
Dandy stared at her, mouth agape. “Henna!” he yelped loudly.
Ahead of them, Thistle turned back curiously. “What are you talking about?” she called back.
“Mind your own business!” her brother yelled. Thistle’s face screwed up in a suspicious frown, but before she could do anything further, a handbell began to toll in the distance. Her face took on a look of surprise, and both she and Dockleaf began to run towards the bell.
All up and down the street, more children began to appear, springing out of alleys and cutting across empty lots, running as fast as they could. They were all Elders, of course, of every shape and size imaginable, from Gnome children that barely came up to Maine’s knees, to loping Trolls that could vault a fence l with a single stride. They began to gather in front of a large open gate, jostling and pushing against each other, laughing and calling out names. It was a riotous time; a small Elf girl pulled the leaves of a Dryad boy until he started to chase her, while a group of Halflings and Goblins were bent over a quick dice game, and a pair of Satyr boys were butting heads as their class-mates egged them on. As their thick, curling horns locked in place, they swung and kicked at each, falling in the dirt as they tried to separate, and the crowd around them continued to cheer.
Any Human teacher might have thrown up their hands. Luckily, Old Coney’s headmaster was a firm believer in an enthusiastic student body, and the power of discipline.
The children continued to yell as the handbell clanged behind them, tolling again and again, until a hoarse voice called out, yelling at the top of his lungs. “Boots and saddles, Children! Let’s fall into formation!” A pair of hooves came down on the sidewalk, cracking the stones. An old, gray Centaur stood in the gate, a kilt covering his hindquarters and a sash across his chest. Scarred covered his face and arms so tightly that his lips seemed twisted in a permanent sneer. As he continued to ring the bell, he stamped his feet, beating time with military precision.
“Form ranks!” he called, and the children dashed against the fence, forming two by two with practiced speed, all chatter and games forgotten. “Now, salute!”
“Good Morning, Mr Argyle!” many small, and not-so-small voices shouted back.
His beard shaking, the old Scot Grey nodded to them briskly. “Good Morning! Now, ready for inspection!”
At his signal, they began to march inside the gate, each one passing under his keen eye, with the occasional comment or barked instruction. “Yes. Yes. Very nice. Feeling better, Moseley? Excellent. Rober, tuck in that shirt! Volla, no food allowed in class! Either swallow that mouse or let him go! C’mon! Step to, lively now!”
Thistle and Dockleaf were the last in line. Dockleaf gave a final wave to Dandy and Maine as they passed by Mr Argyle, following their classmates towards the abandoned rail shed that served as the Old Coney schoolhouse. The huge rail shed, larger than a barn, had, at one point, been the end of the main line running south from Brooklyn, but that had been years ago. Now Imps and Pigeons nested in the rafters, while the children sat below. All the furniture was scavenged, with old and battered chalkboards and chairs and desks in very short supply. Still, they made do, and Mr Argyle ensured everyone received a full education.
“Alright!” he bellowed, snapping to attention. “This morning, we’re reviewin’ sums, fractions, and cursive writin’! Then we’re havin’ musical appreciation with a recital by Mistress Zepher down at the washing house, and I’ll not show the lass any disrespect!” he warned them. “If I see any yawnin’, I’ll ground you up beneath my hooves till yar nothin’ but mince!!”
“Finally, we’ll be reviewin’ hand-to-hand combat and if there’s time, I’ll teach ya the rear choke-hold. First one to reduce your opponent to unconsciousness get’s braggin’ rights over the class!”
Not for the first time, Maine was jealous that she hadn’t been allowed to attend. Mr Argyle sounded a great deal more interesting than any of the stuffy old tutors and endless hours of Latin, French, Elvish, and Calculus that she’d been forced to endure. She would’ve liked to linger, but Dandy was tugging on her arm insistently. He led her to a side-alley, well out of earshot.
He checked up and down the street quickly, making sure no one was near, then turned on her. “Henna? What are you thinking, trying to find her?” he asked. “She's outcast! No one will have anything to do with her! You said you never wanted to see her again!”
“I did! I don’t-” Maine stammered, suddenly flustered. “Ah, that doesn’t matter, alright? I just need to find her!” He continued to stare at her, and she finally threw up her hands. “Look, she had something to do with this morning, okay?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The Firstborn knew about the Vault,” she told him, laying it out. “Not just about it, but where it was exactly. They even had a note with them, telling how to get inside. Only a few people even knew it existed, let alone how to get in, there’s no way they could have figure all that out on their own.” She took a deep breath. “I think it was Henna that tipped them off.”
Dandy’s eyes narrowed. “You think it was her? You’re not sure?”
“I’m sure,” she insisted. “I saw the note,okay? I recognized her handwriting. It was definitely Henna.”
He frowned, chewing it over. “Wow,” he said finally, looking almost impressed. “Not enough she blew up your Gran, but now she turns traitor?” He suddenly looked up, rather embarrassed. “Uh, sorry, forgot I said that,” he mumbled.
Maine looked away, chewing on her lip. “It’s alright,” she grumbled. She felt a light touch on her leg. Ifri was walking through her legs, rubbing himself against her and wrapping his tail around her, purring. She picked him up and held him close, brushing fresh ash off his coat. “Look, do you know where she is or not?” she asked Dandy.
He sighed. “I think I know where she might be.”
“You think?”
“Well, it’s not like I’ve been keeping track of her,” he said, throwing his hands up. “After your Gran died, no one wanted anything to do with her. Even her own family drove her out.” He thought for a moment, scratching his chin. “Someone told me she’d set up shop down at the far end of Sheepshead.”
“She set up a shop?” Maine asked. He nodded.
“An Alchemy shop, like her parent’s had, remember? She was always a really good Alchemist- at least until, you know…” he trailed off.
Maine ignored him, thinking it over. “Sheepshead bay… That’s all the way on the other side of Old Coney.”
“Well it’s not like she could go anywhere else,” he shrugged.
Finally, Maine nodded. “Okay, let’s go then!” she said forcefully. Dandy’s eyes went wide.
“W-Woah there,” he said quickly. “Uh, you really don’t need me to help you find it, do you? I mean, it’ll take us all day to get there and I promised my Mom-”
“You owe me,” Maine reminded him. “From not answering my letter- here’s how you pay me back!” She grabbed his arm and started to pull him after her.
Dandy trailed after her, groaning. “I couldn’t even read the damn thing!”