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August Agency (a PGTS fanfiction)
Chapter 16: Hungry Predators

Chapter 16: Hungry Predators

Month 12, Day 5, 7:00 AM

Marie

The following morning, dressed in her black dress, black makeup refreshed, and with her ruana cloak pinned in place, Millie headed to Hands, Hearts, and Palms to visit her Mama. Marie wondered if she would be able to go see Millie today, after. She was glad she’d asked Poe about glamours. After returning from dropping the note off at the University gate, Marie learned a color changing light spell from Frank, and got some supervised practice in.

They ran through a full spectrum of colors, including an interesting “black light.” Apparently, “black light” was some sort of higher frequency light that only seemed to make teeth and Poe’s leaded glass decanter glow slightly.

In the office, Poe also permitted her to try the raven calling spell again. No raven came since they were indoors, so Marie hid her disappointment. He also showed her a variation with chimes and another with the sound of seagulls.

As Marie walked the streets just after sunrise, there weren’t many people around. Mornings were the safest time Morrows territory: all the gang members were sleeping or headed to bed.

If you lived among the gangs long enough, you could get the rhythm of it. Gangs worked at night. By the morning, most prostitutes sleep, the thieves and robbers fled the empty streets, the smugglers finished their deliveries. Even daytime gang members weren’t troublesome in the mornings; the illicit potion dealers would get ready for a busy day on their corner. A daytime ganger had no reason to stick out and make a fuss.

Even in Morrow territory, only the respectable people were on the streets in the mornings, walking to their jobs as stevedores, bakers, shop stewards, builders, or other city workers. The moneyed people had fled to their manors hours before.

Only the most dedicated of the Morrow’s members worked mornings.

Since the streets were clear, Marie did not think to take any of the less obvious routes. She walked on the broad streets and headed straight there.

So, when Marie arrived at the Hands, Hearts, and Palms, the three Morrows hanging around the entrance meant she’s allowed herself to fall directly into an ambush.

Their clothes were neat and ironed free of wrinkles, if a little worn, and they showed a bit of the red in the lining of their suits, the bright red neckties, and carefully fitted red armbands with an embroidered and stylized M. Marie placed them a class above the typical Morrow.

‘Collectors’ Marie thought. If a better class of client came up short on a loan, a fine shopkeeper failed to pay protection, or an otherwise slightly wealthier person got crosswise with Lord Morrow, they would be rewarded with a a visit from the well-dressed collectors. They collected money, or barring that, pieces.

Marie, like her Mama, wasn’t inclined to profanity. But, she mentally ran through some of the more common words in use for illegitimate children and vulgar anatomy.

Marie slowed her walking pace and considered going in the back entrance. The Collectors would have no reason to talk to her, would they? She could probably even go through the front door without any trouble. Still, when she was just turning at the opening of the alley to the back, the smallest one in the group called out to her.

“Look who it is.” The blonde man called, with a smile too wide to be genuine. “It’s little Marie.”

Kett Blue Eyes. Marie knew him, though thankfully not well; he was attractive enough. But, he made regular claims on the prostitutes’ time at the parlor. He wasn’t so high in the Morrows to be considered one of the inner executives, but he reported to Lord Morrow’s number two.

To Marie, his bright blue eyes were always as cold and unblinking as a sharks; he was a predator with an appetite for violence. Not the worst Morrow, but not the best either. When he’d stopped by when Marie worked the counter, she was just a little bit glad Dinky was there.

“Just who we were talking about, isn’t that right?” And the two slabs of muscle with Kett, squeezed too tight into their clothes, nodded.

Marie smiled brightly back. Time seemed to slow, and all those important lessons Marie had gotten about dealing with violent people rushed through her mind.

Dinky was not a particularly articulate man, but he’d once given Marie some advice on dealing with intimidation: “It ‘elps to be big, but showing fear never goes quite rig’t eit’er.” He’d looked her up and down. “You are so little. Best you don’t let t’em get close.”

Marie’s Mama had slightly different advice. “Avoid trouble first. But, you keep your knife handy, and if you gotta cut ‘em, cut where it hurts: eyes, ears, nose, or cut em in the bicep or down low on their legs. Just about anywhere down low is alright. Once you decide to cut ‘em, you can’t care about them at all. Just do it. Then get away sharpish.”

In fourteen years, Marie had luckily never had to actually be worried enough to use the advice of either.

But, she had taken it. She’d learned how to keep the knife on the inside of a dress, where she could get at it through a pocket. She’d learned how to hold her knife so it wouldn’t slip out of her hand or bind in a cut. She’d even spent a little time practicing when Dinky showed her the basics.

Not that any of that would do any good. Blue Eyes and the other two Morrows would be carrying wands—probably lethal ones.

Running was out. First, Marie couldn’t run to the parlor. Because the parlor was a Morrows’ business, they’d just order it searched and she’d be drug out. Second, while Marie desperately wanted to run to Poe, she would struggle to outrun the adults. Some teenagers were full of life and energy; they could run for blocks. She thought about Percy’s story. Percy was athletic. Marie was not.

Besides, they could just shoot her in the back. Maybe if it were dark she could improvise. But, it was daytime and there was more than enough light to spot her.

All this went through her mind in a flash. No hiding. No running. No real defense. Maybe she should be asking Poe about self-defense spells instead of glamours. Marie stopped dead still, at a distance she hoped was beyond their reach, and casually tucked her hands in her pockets. The knife was handy. For all the good that it would do.

Marie smiled. Marie had her own philosophy about hungry predators like Kett: Don’t be on the menu.

And, he liked to hear the sound of his own voice.

“My, my, and you are looking well. New clothes. New colors.”

“New color? I just have the black. And my red.” Marie flipped a corner of her cloak to show the red.

“Easy enough to turn your cloak. Not green yet?” The blond scoffed. “You were seen visiting enemies of Lord Morrow. Are you sure your loyal?”

“My boss is an investigator. He’s investigating.”

“At the Pack? At the Coppers? At the Stags?”

Marie smiled again. Inside, her heart was pounding, and she felt the tremble in her fingers.

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“He was hired to track down the Raven Queen. She’s an enemy of yours. Who else should he ask?”

“Maybe. Maybe. But no one but you seems to be able to say what he’s doing. There’s rumors you even met with that vigilante kid. You know that the kid put some of our people away? Besides, If you’re still a Morrow, why isn’t it ‘our’ enemies?”

“The August Agency is neutral.”

Kett scoffed. Marie tried hard not to be obvious that her weight was shifting for her to flee. Kett stared hard at her. He was trying for intimidation. Marie gripped the knife handle in her pocket. She felt the warm leather wrapping get tacky with the sweat building on her palm.

“Did you want to talk about something?” Marie asked.

“Yeah.” Kettle returned to his creepy smile. “We’ve been told you are learning to do glamours. So, you’ll be providing that service at the parlor soon.”

“Not yet.” Marie replied as cool as possible. “I haven’t talked to Madame about it.” If they needed her for something, she might be able to keep Kett appeased.

“It’s time you started showing your value to the Morrows, kid. There was an investment in you, and that debt gotta be paid off. Or, maybe I’ll be around to collect.” He wasn’t smiling now.

Marie felt her face go hot.

“You wouldn’t …”

Kett interrupted.

“You think we got a problem beating a kid? Or maybe your mother will take the beating for you? Madame got the message. In fact, I think …”

As he took a step, Marie shifted her back foot, and got ready to draw the knife. But Dinky came out of the parlor.

“Marie! w’at are you doing out ‘ere?” Dinky bellowed. “Come inside.”

Kett turned toward Dinky.

“Stay out of this.”

“I don’t t’ink I will, Kett.” Dinky replied quietly. “You touch an ‘air on that girl, and after those two are pick’ng your teeth out the gutter, I’ll go make sure ‘er Da knows you threatened ‘er. And, you’re life won’t be worth a half candle.”

Kett went to grab something from under his coat, but Dinky had a big black battle wand out before Kettle even reached his pocket. One of the other two goons seemed to be a bit quicker, but a stunner from Dinky flashed and put the man on the ground. The other goon and Kettle froze when Dinky’s wand snapped back to point at them.

“The Boss gave me orders.” Marie heard the capital letter in Dinky’s voice.

Lord Morrow had given orders to DInky?

“Marie’s protected. Come over here Marie. We going back in the parlor, and these fellas are going on their way. Right?”

Kett Blue Eye’s smile was entirely gone now.

Marie walked quickly past the trio of enforcers and hid behind Dinky as they backed through the parlor door.

Kett and his uninjured bodyguard did not follow.

In the reception area, Dinky looked a Marie with concern and his brow furrowed.

“You Ok?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Marie breathed in and out unsteadily. “What was that about?”

Before Dinky could reply, Madame came into the reception, her face battered, and one of her eyes was swelling shut.

‘She didn’t get that falling down some stairs. She’s been beaten.’ Marie realized. ‘Was that the message Kett talked about?’

“Thank you Dinky.” Madame said. The bruises were red and turning purple. Whatever hurt her, it happened recently. “Maire, come back to the office. Dinky, go get her Mama.”

A few minutes later, they were all gathered in Madame’s office: Marie, Dinky, Mama, and Madame. Madame sat at her big polished desk, which was cleared of books an papers, and not a single speck of dirt, except a few droplets of blood on the side closest to her. Madame pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped them from the surface, returning it to a mirror-like shine.

“Marie, I am sorry. I made a mistake that thinking that Lord Morrow would let me pay the tribute and that would be the end of it. It … was not. Kett and those b … his friends … had questions about where the money came from. Then, they asked questions about why we closed, questions about you, questions about Millie, and questions about Poe.” Madame said..

Marie thought there was more to it than that. Questions don’t leave bruises.

“They did that to you. Why?”

“They accused me of embezzling. And beat me to ‘make sure I was telling the truth’ about the money.”

“What? That’s dumb! The Morrows are criminals: of course we’re embezzling.”

Madame gave a wincing smile. “It really was just that they didn’t want to believe that I could personally carry the loss of a day closed. They don't have anything to take to Lord Morrow. Don’t worry.”

“Ain’t right.” Dinky mumbled. “shoulda let me stop them.”

Madame laughed bitterly, then coughed a bit. She stiffened slightly; Marie figured that they’d hit her in places other than her face. “No, that’s more trouble we don't need. I sold Lord Morrow on this being a place with class. Or, more class anyway. He owns it. He’d just replace me with someone worse, like that … slaver woman.”

“What’s this got to do with Marie?” Mama asked. “Why did they stop her on the street?”

“They wanted to know why she was going to the Stags.”

“I was with Poe!” Marie retorted.

“They did not say anything about Poe.”

Then Marie realized. Of course they didn’t. Poe wandered through the world in near complete anonymity. Even if they had seen him, if they didn’t write it down right away, they would forget.

“Everything is tense right now with the Stags. There’s rumors of an alliance with the Pack.” Madame continued. “Lord Morrow didn’t get where he is by ignoring his enemies. Enforcers like Kett are being told to get answers and root out traitors. And … they want glamour to hide themselves from the Stag’s agents.”

“Glamours from me?” Marie asked skeptically.

“Your name came up; so did Poe.” Madame replied. Her eye was fully swollen shut now, and it must have been very painful, but Madame’s tone was still mild.

“What about Millie?” Mama asked.

“She can’t or won’t.” Madame replied. “She’s still hurting.”

Marie tried to decide what she would say to that. Poe had told her she wasn’t ready for glamours; was there some thing she could do to convince him to do it instead? Argue that it would protect her?

Marie then had another thought. “Are they going to come after Dinky?”

“Don’t worry about that.” Dinky rumbled.

“I’m being told not to worry about a lot of things that seem like I should be worrying about! Why shouldn’t I worry?” Marie retorted.

“Dinky, don't you dare say another word. It’s part of my deal.” Mama said. “Lord Morrow will honor it.”

“Didn’t sound like that to me!”

“He will.” Dinky replied, with Madame and Mama nodding along.

Marie bristled. In the silence, Madame leaned back in her plush chair.

“Probably best if I stay out of sight today.” Madame said. “Stella, mind the parlor if you would, and turn your cleaning team over to your second.” Madame finally turned her good eye back onto to Marie. “Marie, we brought you up here, and kept you from the worst of this place. I am glad you aren’t living here any more.” The woman tried to smile, but flinched painfully instead. “This place was no place for a child, but especially no place for a young woman. But. We need someone to do glamours. If you can’t do it, or Poe can’t, maybe you can find someone. I’ll pay what the Morrows won’t if need be. Or, maybe you can ask Millie when she’ll feel up to it. She may not owe the Morrows anything, but she owes me.”

“I don’t know.” Marie replied.

“You can’t make her do this.” Mama said. “There’s no debt between her and the Morrows.”

“I suppose teaching her to read and write has no value?” Madame scoffed. “But, I’m not asking for her to pay a debt or anything like that anyway. I just don’t know who we can entice to come do glamour work here. Millie was cheap, and pretty good at glamour. Lord Morrow’s shortsightedness means we’ll have to pay, but if its Marie that does the work, I have no trouble giving her the gold.”

Marie wiped the frustration from her eyes. She was getting over her fear, but underneath she felt angry. She knew the the Morrows were dangerous. They wandered through the streets, always hungry for a fight, or sex, or easy money.

‘I am going to be …’ She started to think, then she corrected herself. ‘I am a sorcerer now. I am weak. But. One day, I will be like sky kraken: powerful and untouchable. I won’t be manipulated. I can handle this.’

“I don’t know how.”

“Talk to Poe. Please. Your Mama and you have both said he lives in the dilapidated building over in the Stag’s territory. We’ll pay double his fees. At least until things settle down with the Morrows and Stags.” Madame said.

“He … he won’t do it.” Marie replied. “You’ll have to find someone else.”

“Ask?”

“Fine.”

They finished their conversation, but when Marie left the office, she didn’t stay to talk to her Mama. If she’d stayed, Marie knew that she’d ask about her father. And not once had that conversation ever gone well.