Month 12, Day 4, 6:00AM

Marie

Marie set out for Hands, Hearts, and Palms in near dark. It was another misty morning, and she couldn’t help but shiver a little bit, even with her ruana cloak held in place with her new cloak pin. Poe’s story of a human-eating mist disturbed her. She kept imagining that the mist around her had malicious intent. But, thankfully, the mist didn’t behave unnaturally. It was mostly just cold and wet.

She wore her new-to-her black dress, which was nearly ankle length. It didn’t show off her boots as well, she thought, but it did have several pockets in the seams. Probably the dress was meant for mourning or a funeral. The cloth and stitching was finer than usual stuff even at a used shop, and she’d gotten a deal on it in part because of its small size.

People underestimated Marie’s age; that was fine. But she definitely wished she was taller. She didn't know many other girls her age, but she thought she should be at least 3/4 the height of a doorway, and she still was only 2/3 of it. She also thought she should be getting “womanly” as her Mama called it, and that wasn't really happening either.

It was something to think about, when walking to the parlor. No particular reason to be anxious, growing up would happen eventually. Maybe in another year.

She was looking forward to talking to Mama and seeing everyone. Even if they would be tired. Living in a 24-hour business and sleeping in a single room with a dozen other women and her Mama was a lot different than sleeping alone. Marie’s new room possessed a stifling quiet that she still found unsettling; like the mist, it was an ordinary thing but was seeming unnatural without time to get used to it.

‘Do all rich girls sleep in a room by themselves?’ Marie thought. ‘What must it be like to grow up that way?’ Marie was used to people, and now she oddly craved the company.

Not that she expected to see much company. Early morning wasn't a busy time for Hands, Hearts, and Palms. The rooms were empty, so that was always a busy time for the cleaners. Mama worked hardest for the couple of hours after the rush left: cleaning floors, servicing the padded tables, changing cloth, organizing the cleaning for the daytime, and getting the laundry sorted and stored. It might not be the luxury of the Silk Door. And it wasn’t closer to the nicer parts of the City, but not all the Morrows were running cheap whorehouses.

What little luxury Hands, Hearts, and Palms had, the parlor never closed. In part, this was because they had a few rooms for overnight stay for patrons to sleep off the effects of any intoxicants; these beds did come with, of course, by-the-hour charges. During daytime, wealthier customers also visited for standard massage, hot rock treatments, cosmetic tinctures, facial treatments, and the occasional not-entirely-legal glamour.

The parlor also did some business with ladies who wanted a discrete place to meet a paramour while thier husband worked through the day. One wouldn’t want to accidentally meet a husband during a visit to the Silk Door for their own tryst. So, there were customers for all hours of the day, and its door never closed.

Or at least Marie thought the parlor never closed. She appeared mistaken, however, because when she arrived, the parlor was definitely closed. The front door wouldn’t budge when she tried to open it, and knocking did not seem to attract anyone inside.

She anxiously headed for the back door. It smelled a little of iron and sour vomit in the alley, but it was dim and she couldn't make out any detail. The backdoor was locked too.

When she knocked, Dinky opened the door.

“Miss Marie.” He rumbled. “There’s a meet’n.”

“What is wrong? Why is the parlor closed?”

“Your Mama will tell you.”

Marie was uneasy. She hoped none of the workers were hurt.

She pushed that feeling aside, and followed Dinky to the largest room in the parlor: the laundry. The big washtubs were emptied and stacked away; the portable artifact clothes drying arrays were moved to lean on walls; and the tables were folded up and put away,

The employees packed the room, all of them standing facing away from the door.Everyone was sombre and quiet and listening to Madame.

Madame stood next to the wall farthest from the door, speaking in her most serious voice, just a bit louder than normal.

“… was badly injured. We’re not sure if she’ll be back to casting glamours, but she’s probably done with sex work. I’m sure everyone here is sympathetic, but Morrow policy is absolute. If you work off the books in their territory, you take your chances. Everyone clear on that?”

‘Who was badly injured?’ Marie wondered. ‘Was anyone else hurt?’ Marie wormed her way through the crowd so that she could see, and eventually made it to the front. To Marie’s relief, Mama was standing in the corner, apparently unharmed.

Madame continued.

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“I don’t want to see any of the rest of you in this position. Don’t go home with clients, don’t work off the books, and don’t wander out alone at night. That’s both girls and boys, got it? There’s some sick f … people out there.” Nods all around. Even the Morrows themselves could be dangerous.

Madame noticeably left off the profanity when she looked in Marie’s direction.

“Ok? Everyone get some sleep. We’re closed for the day; I’ll pay the Morrows their tribute out of my own funds today. I want everyone to get some rest and we’ll open tonight.” Madame dismissed everyone with a nod.

The gathering broke up with everyone chattering about what they’d heard, but Mama and Madame stayed. Because Marie was here to see Mama, she hung around as well. Madame smiled and gestured Marie over to them.

“Marie, so good to see you.” Madame started. Marie figured that Madame wanted something, but she had a more pressing question.

“What happened?”

“It’s Millie.” Mama said. “She … had trouble with a client. Jealousy or just cruel, we don’t know. He broke her legs with a cudgel, and smashed the rest of her up something terrible. She almost died … Can you believe it, she crawled all the way here from her place down the street? But the client was off the books.” Mama hesitated.

“You know how it is, she always thought she could keep independent. Arrogant. I didn’t care, of course.” Madame shrugged. “But, the Morrows healer wouldn’t look after her, so she had to make do.”

“Mille does all the glamours though.” Marie protested. “Couldn’t they have made an exception?”

“She didn’t get beat within and inch of her life for doing glamours; she was … servicing men on the side. There’s policy.” Madame looked grim.

Mama, however, was pale and shaking a bit. How ever bad it was, not much could rattle Mama, so it must have been very bad.

Marie already knew that Millie had been dealt a bad hand of fate, what with the hairlip, a lisp, and coming from a poor family.Such cosmetic problems could be fixed as a child, but they were much more difficult as an adult.

Millie hadn’t hidden her occupation, even from Marie.

But Millie was fascinating, and Marie had had followed her around when she did glamours on the others. Millie wasn’t really a friend, but they were friendly.

“She had to make do with some healing potions and pain reliever. The lender wouldn’t have nothing to do with her to pay for better healing, now that she can’t ...” Madam sighed. “I’m probably going to be looking for someone else to apply glamours. Your investigator, what’s his name?”

“Frank Poe.” Marie was pretty sure she knew what was coming next.

“Your Mama told me that you’re learning some magic off him. Do you think he’d teach you how to do some glamour work for us? Or, did Mille teach you enough? It’s not so much about the clients; that was just a side job. What we really need is for some of our people to get a little boost to their natural charms. I’d hate to put them out if they don’t quite have the look that the clients expect.”

‘That explains the smiling.’ Marie thought. Madame knew how to persuade her: suggest that people she knew, some for her whole life, would end up on the street. But Marie was not eager to experiment with magic after learning about aberrants, and she definitely wouldn't be doing magic without Poe present.

She could also suspected Madame’ next question. There was no way Poe would be persuaded to do glamours for Hands, Hearts, and Palms. He had turned down sorcery work at nearly every suggestion. Now that she’d seen him get hurt helping the Coppers, she could guess he wouldn’t be in any shape to help anyway.

“No. He doesn't do glamours.” Marie lied a little bit. She knew very well that, as a journeyman sorcerer, he could probably do glamours of all kinds. But, since he wouldn’t, there was no reason to be totally truthful. Madame would just keep asking for something he’d never do.

“Hmm.” Madame replied. “Perhaps after you’ve thought about it. I know this must have been a shock, because Millie is a friend.” Madame patted Mama’s shoulder. “Stella, you might talk to your girl about how important this is for the business.”

Marie and Mama were alone in the empty laundry room. There was an awkward pause after Madame shut the door. Marie breathed in the scent of washing soap and tried to relax the tension in her gut.

“Are you ok?” Mama asked.

“Yes, of course I am.”

“Mr. Poe treats you well?”

“Yes, Mama. I learned my first spell yesterday.”

“What happened to Millie … I don't want that to happen to you. You don’t have to stay with Mr. Poe.”

“It’s fine Mama. He’s ok.”

“You sure? He doesn’t try to control you? He’s not … doing anything that makes you uncomfortable?”

“I’m fine Mama. Really.” Marie desperately wanted to change this subject. “What about you though? Did you have to carry Millie?”

Mama, who Marie thought was as tough as boot leather, and who had seen some of the worst that working in a brothel could show, had trouble keeping her composure when she explained what happened.Her eyes filled with tears, and her voice quivered. She did not share too much detail, but it was still a horrible story.

Mama was the first to see Millie. Just as the evening rush started, Mama had gone to the back door, because there was some sort of hoarse crying out back. It sounded like an animal, maybe an injured cat, or an eidolon raccoon begging for scraps. Mama found Millie bloody, barely alive, struggling to breathe, just outside the parlor’s back door. Who could tell how far she’d crawled or stumbled to reach apparent safety. She’d been beaten.

Madame brought her in and called for a healer. But when the Morrows’ healer learned a client had beaten Millie, he refused to help. He was too afraid that it would get back to the boss; Lord Morrow was not gentle with those in the organization that betrayed his business policies. Prostitutes in Morrow territory had to pay him a cut, otherwise they would see no protection from him. The healer sold them a healing potion, gave them the name of a witch deep in the Mires outside of Morrow territory, and fled.

Madame, probably also against policy, but more certain in her position, gave the cleaning staff some gold to see Millie to the witch’s place. Mama led them there; they carried Millie on improvised a stretcher.

The man they met was barely trained, and he was reluctant to do anything at all. A side business in minor healing and curses was hardly enough to get Millie back on her feet.

But, after Mama explained what happened, he took their money and cast some healing rituals with his familiar. The shug monkey, which Marie was told looked like a dog but had an eerie monkey-like face, and a big mane of hair, only possessed a minor healing aspect. It took a several hours before Millie recovered enough to limp, with help, back to her apartment.

Even so, Millie was exhausted, weak, in constant pain, and broken. According to Mama, she’d never walk right again.

Mama was also tired; she had been out all night and what she’s seen frightened her.Marie suspected it was because this could have been her. To Marie, Millie had seemed untouchable because of her magic, and how useful she’d been. But, she wasn’t.

Marie had connections with the Morrow, and friends at the parlor. ‘Will it be enough to protect me?’ Marie thought. ‘Millie had friends. She worked with us. The Morrows didn’t care.’ She felt sick.

Mama and Madam their finished their story. When Marie had arrived, the group of cleaners had just returned. Madame called the meeting to quell rumors among the staff. Mama expected that the day shift would have to do the extra cleaning on restocking to make up for the short staffing that helping Millie caused.

Madame left Marie to talk to her Mama.

Marie asked her Mama if she could go see Mille. But, Mama suggest that Marie give her some space to rest, and visit tomorrow.

After hugs, and about an hour of quiet conversation about her day, Marie reluctantly began the walk back to the August Agency.

As the sun rose, it burned off the mist. Marie walked and thought about her older friend. When Marie crossed into the Stag’s territory, the shadow of raven wings flashed on the street. But, when she looked for the bird, she couldn’t see it through her painful tears.