There was a reason they called places like Navaris pass through cities. They lived and died by their attractions and Navaris’s was the lake. I, however, wasn’t going to the lake. I was one of the few out of towners that actually visited the downtowns.

In places like these flash mobs, hordes of advertisers, random improv troupes would block people like me from getting to their business. The crowds reeked of desperation, sweat and drugs because of the few legal opportunities around here.

Today’s problem centered on a six and a half foot tall twig of a man. He looked like any other run of the mill street preacher in his white robe. The robe collected dirty from the filthy city streets. His speaking drew a crowd, which gathered right between me and the coffee shop where I’d be meeting Arinna, my client.

Shit.

I ignored his rote, monotonous voice at first. Despite how irritatingly loud it was. The barcode on his neck indicated he was actually affiliated with the Church of Caveras at some point.

Just as I looked to cross the street, I saw a couple of cops in full uniform. I decided to avoid them so they wouldn’t recognize my face. Avoiding so called law enforcement meant working my way through the crowd.

“Corruption and fear will control people’s hearts. We must help the Eldron.” The preacher continued his public sermon.

I pushed my way between people in the crowd. Some would leave, some would come in. I regretted wearing a sundress for the moment. Fighting through a crowd would have been easier if people people didn’t assume that I was a pushover. For every person that got out of my way, two more seemed to fill the vacant space.

I saw the police were heading this way. A couple more flanked the preacher. Great. Shift change. Leaving would stick out now.

I fought to get to the middle of the crowd. I was average height so I would be partially obscured by the taller people. A heckler yelled “The only corruption is you begging people who actually work for a living.”

“Forceful love is what the world needs more of.” The preacher continued. What the fuck did “forceful love” mean?

“Right and Caveras’s love is only 15 percent of my income right?” I didn’t care for this guy maligning my faith. Faith was the sole thing that actually got many people through this economic doomscape.

A woman donated a money chip into his cap. The heckler reached in. I grabbed his hand with my left hand before he could steal. It would be easier to keep a low profile and ignore him, but I just couldn’t stomach someone stealing. Even if it was from a street preacher.

Our eyes met. “You almost fell into his cup.” I snarled.

“Spineless slave,” he wiggled his hand free from mine and then turned around. I watched him leave after I caught him.

The preacher must have noticed the interaction as he deviated from his usual monotone speech. “The Eldron needs you down south.” His voice was suddenly timid, awkward, and quiet. Odd tone for a preacher that spread gospel. 

He broke eye contact and looked at his tip cup. I moved my hand back and I could swear he followed my wrist. My unmarked wrist.

“Please, Dracus five six. People need you.” His continued using the soft voice. Why would he keep his voice low? People across the street definitely couldn’t hear him.

I didn’t even remember what Dracus part five parable six was. Why would he expect me to know? Like most people, I barely went to Ceremony once a month.

When I got out of the crowd, the preacher made one last comment. He spoke as if I rejected him. “You’re the one with the mark. Please come and accept your destiny.” The priest was delusional. I had no mark. Why is he getting a permit?

He must have left the church at some point in the past due to his insanity. That was the only way the barcode on his neck made sense.

A minute later, he left his preaching post. In the middle of the high traffic time.

I walked around the coffee shop once, verifying that the police, the insane preacher, and the heckling thief weren’t tailing me. Nothing I did was that noticeable. A bit of paranoia is necessary for my line of work.

I ordered a cappuccino and waited at a spot near a non-emergency exit. During the wait, I looked up the passage he mentioned. “Unnatural nature will rise. The Mother’s strength and the Angel’s wisdom must guide us.”

The chapter of Dracus was explicitly about the beginning of the war with the Leader. What was he expecting me of all people to draw from this? I wouldn’t get an answer to his riddles today, but at least I could ensure this guy wouldn’t stalk me or some non-sense.

If Arinna knew what I had planned, she probably wouldn’t have trusted me. She might think I needed therapy, but the best therapy was revenge. Since I couldn’t get it for myself, I’d get it for her.

She didn’t know me from the next person around but that didn’t matter to me. I saw her message on an underground network when browsing for another job to distract me. Her description of this tormentor reminded me enough of my husband. This would be a rehearsal.

She came to the meeting dressed in casual summer wear down to the flip flops on her feet. I waved her over to the table. I would have had her coffee ready, but she claimed someone spiked her drink.

According to her statement, a middle aged man with a missing tooth took advantage of her and several other prostitutes that were not associated with any gangs. She mentioned regretting not joining the Dextals as they would get retribution on her behalf.

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She waved back and got into the short line. She carried nothing but a small purse, but what really stood out was her feet. It had been three weeks since the incident she described but her feet still carried scars. Most people didn’t think to look at feet, but I did.

The scars came from second degree burns. She likely did walk across barefoot across the asphalt as no one voluntarily burns their feet in an effort to induce someone to get revenge. Someone likely hurt her. 

Each step she took was slow and deliberate. She feared pain more than it actually hurt probably. The scars shouldn’t hurt weeks after. Trauma easily created flashbacks. I just hoped mine didn’t. Yet, I kept myself busier than most of people and I had more control over my life.

“Thank you for coming,” she stated.

“Not a problem,” I took a sip of my coffee.  “What’s the deal with the preacher?”

“Oh Damus,” she laughed, “he preaches for awhile and then gets lunch across the street. Alone. Then he goes back to the ceremony. He’s very particular that he doesn’t socialize. We think he’s forgotten how to talk to people and only has that booming loud voice and cryptic tones. Like a horoscope.”

“And if he breaks his pattern?”

“He never would,” Her voice was definitive. Maybe the preacher snapped? His codes were cryptic. The priest had to have people steal from him before. He must have had a psychotic break.

I decided not to push the issue as Arinna wouldn’t be able to help sort out any more. Time to turn to the purpose of today’s meeting. Helping her. The police wouldn’t actually help people like her.

People like me were the true morality enforcement. With no more distractions from religion or law, it was time to start my calling; fixing a bit of this doomscape without losing myself in the process.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine,” she sighed. It was the type of fine that meant she wasn’t but not to push too much further. She didn’t want to talk about the incident. That was fine. I wasn’t her therapist but a vigilante. “Why are you here?”

Her suspicion didn’t bother me. We both knew how the world usually worked. “I’ve been there. People like him need to suffer to learn. Without pain, they never will.” My husband had violated my trust. Revenge on him felt impossible. I could do hers. “Did you bring his card?”

She reached into her bag. Such cards were frequently loaned out to prostitutes so pimps wouldn’t accidentally invade each other’s turf. If a prostitute left the game or moved, then they’d send discard the cards. “He gave it to me that night.”

I took the card and flipped it over. Average card. Nothing spectacular. “Perfection by the Pier” was the brand name. The prostitutes would work a couple hotels around the lake most likely.

“I wasn’t even looking to earn my living that night,” she sighed, “I just wanted a one night stand after a breakup with a cheating boyfriend. Get back on the horse and all. Maybe leave the scene. Turns out, he was he was….”

“A sick twisted son of a bitch,” I realized that I was being a little too loud but the noise of the coffee shop would obscure this conversation. There was no way this woman meets me in a hidden corner of the city.

She nodded and took a deep breath. “Men like him hold all the power.”

“They think they hold all the power.” The evil ones hadn’t met me. The army trained me, the world hardened me, and Caveras gave me the ability to sleep at night. Sunlight might be the best disinfectant but sometimes it needs a little heat behind it.

“How can we have any power? I already went to the police. He was already there. They were laughing.”

She hadn’t realized her rapist likely was a member of the police. There was no warrant out for her. I checked. There were too many fat, middle aged cops to find her assailant though.

“You met at the Watershed Hotel?” I changed the conversation to getting the facts I wanted.

She nodded. “That’s what I said. I knew he was ogling the younger women but I think he settled for me.” She was in her mid thirties, just like I was.

“You should never be someone that’s “settled for”.” My husband claimed he was settling for me too. Men like that think they are gentlemen but they couldn’t even muster the strength not to insult their lovers. She didn’t need to know we had that feeling in common.

“How are you going to find him?”

“The card will be enough. You don’t need the reminder anyway.” The card would be my trophy. I wasn’t going to kill him, unless it was absolutely necessary. Killing would be too peaceful. People needed to live with the consequences of their actions.

“I still don’t get it,” she stated, “Is this a blackmail scam?”

I had messaged her that I didn’t require any money up front, which was probably the only way to get her to meet me. I could have probably done it without meeting her, but I really wanted to have something of his that was certainly untracked to verify he was the rapist. 

Her offer of one thousand Pectars was a month’s rent in a flophouse. She wanted to put realistic, but not excessive, skin in the game, which made it less likely to be a trap. “I don’t need to blackmail anyone. You said that he didn’t bring his car.”

“Uhh huhh,” she mumbled. She paused, probably thrown off by my attempts to change the conversation. “A driver dropped him off in a hot rod. That’s what drew my attention to him.”

I didn’t know if he took such a flashy car every time he went to the pier but he likely did. Parking was expensive and likely only paid for by travelers like myself. Ordering a ride each way likely equated to a day’s parking. “Thank you.”

She had confirmed the last bit of information I needed to handle this jackass. All I needed to do was prepare.

“What do you get out of this?” Her curiosity annoyed me. Yet, it showed that she was serious. The liars didn’t care about how things happened.

“That’s not your concern. I should get going.” I stood up from the table.

“Not my concern?” She stood up from the table. “You’re doing everything you can to avoid explaining anything. I want to know what you’re planning.”

“It’s best you remain here,” I knew I was being a bit paternalistic, but I never took the victims along. I also never got complaints.

“Not good enough,” she had met me at the door and opened it. “I don’t want to cower in the corner.”

“Reaching out isn’t cowering,” I exited the door and pointed towards the alley. “If you really want to talk more, we can go to the alley.”

We walked to the alley in silence. She frequently looked over her shoulder. She didn’t trust me. Most figured out that I was speaking in code for acting outside the law that favored bastards like him.

She stood up too. “Let me come,” she grabbed my arm. “What the hell do you have planned? Why can’t I help?”

“The man is police. The amount of training needed to avoid him is not something I can give you in a few hours and I’m not sticking around. This is just a stop for me.”

“Police don’t rape.”

I snorted. I am not sure how any prostitute still believed that law enforcement hadn’t been corrupted.

She crossed her arms. “You think they do?”

“Absolute power corrupts absolutely. I ain’t no saint but I can’t willingly have you face your attacker again. I’ll send you proof after it’s done.” The sending of proof was something I planned on anyway. She mentioned he kept trophies of his victims. I was going to use that for the revenge.

She sighed. “I’d be in the way wouldn’t I?”

“You would be,” I revealed, “I get wanting to get see him get hurt, but revenge can’t come before safety.” That’s what I told myself when I didn’t carve my husband to bits. The law would still come after me though. He is a rich enough bastard for the pigs to care.

She didn’t say anything for a minute. Instead she thought about things. “Alright,” she resigned.

“I’ll message you tonight.”