Shaker and his men are undoubtedly here to send me to prison. With all the property damage laid at my feet, why not any potential loss of life, as well? Perhaps not even serving my sentence here, but instead somewhere far, far away. Hopefully. Better to be toiling in chains while mentally free and plotting escape. Better doing that than continuing this grotesquerie, this burlesque, almost as physically restricted and chewing my tongue to bits while trying to mind all my p's and q's. An actual, honest prison may be preferable.
“I'd like to have a word.” Shaker beckoning me to follow.
“Yes, sir.” Thank you. Walking out into the chill, afternoon air. The rain still falling in a light mist.
“I've been apprised of the situation,” he says, “and it seems your stunt was the catalyst that brought everything that's been simmering to a head.”
“Stormhawk is responsible for that.” Going to try and drag you screaming to hell with me, Lane.
“Yes.” Shaker making an offhand gesture. “I've been informed of that as well.”
My spiteful remark obviously missing the mark. Sharing an uncomfortable silence.
“Could you do me a favor and let me send some letters out? Before you arrest me, that is.”
“What?” he says, in obvious surprise, but then breaking out in an almost affectionate smile. “I'm not here to arrest you. Not that I don't disapprove - absolutely disapprove - of what happened, but my understanding is that you've already placed yourself on house arrest.” Giving a grumble. “Somewhat voluntarily. And, while everything did come to a head, it allowed the Marquis an opportunity to make some reversals on a very public decision. The ongoing concerns, the simmering discontent and whispers of rebellion, have been addressed, and all parties have come to a satisfactory compromise. Believe it, or not, you have my honest thanks.”
Is he serious? He seems serious. There was no sarcastic tone or sardonic tinge, no sneaky, slippery wording. Holy shit, he's serious. Wait, that's exactly what Daniel said: if ever there had been an opportunity to remove Shaker, it's gone. Calling the harbor a victory? Pyrrhic, at best. Shaker's earnest approval utterly shaking me to my core. A prison sentence with bars and chains and a little black and white stripes would've been much more lenient than this.
“So, while I know you're upset at Stormhawk for trying what they did,” Shaker continuing, “in the end, everything managed to work itself out.” Giving me a genial smile. “And you even managed to get your guild reinstated.”
For all the good that does. Chewing on my tongue. “It is. The guild is back and I'm glad about that. That's what I set out to achieve, and I ended up achieving it but, after everything I've been through, I'm not planning on rejoining it. I'm closing that particular chapter of my life.” Managing to stay calm.
“It's true, then.” Shaker giving me a full appraisal. “Willia- No, Lucy. Lucy. I'm sorry it was such a treacherous road, but I'm relieved this journey has led you in a better direction. I know you're likely still very upset with me.” You have no idea. “But, if you'd be willing, my wife, Paula, very much wants to speak with you again. I know that you're busy right now, but when you can, when you feel up to it, I'd like you to come by and talk with her. I think it would do her a world of good.”
How loathsome. Please dance the corpse, the facsimile, of the dead daughter over for another pot of tea and a plate of biscuits. Lucilia, this failure, my failure, there's no excuse. There's no apology that would ever suffice.
Shaker reaching out a hand to gently brush away the tears streaming soundlessly down my face. “I'll let you think about it. For everything you may have done, don't forget that forgiveness, even redemption, is possible. Our difficulties, our suffering, isn't meaningless. We're better for it. That's what my faith, and my troubles, have revealed to me.”
A person from Shaker's entourage running over. “Director, we have a situation.”
Shaker giving an exasperated half laugh, half sigh. “Of course we do. There always is one, it seems. It never ends. Lucy, I want you to know that I'm rooting for you.”
Saying nothing in response, turning my back on Shaker and heading into the warehouse. We're better for our suffering? Maybe the perpetrators are better off, squirming in sadomasochistic glee. Maybe the parade of charlatans and quacks are better off, selling tinctures and tonics and promises of absolution. Maybe the saps and dupes and cowards are better off, swallowing comforting lies and gargling the dregs of snake oil. An entire industry of broken people and broken windows and broken promises.
Clenching and unclenching my hands, my opportunity and Lucilia's final offering to avenge the wrong that had been done to us both. Giving my head a violent shake. Barely more than twenty four hours and the cracks are all showing. It's unsustainable, it's all going to fall apart, but that's not a surprise. That's probably how it should be. The harbor was nothing. The purifying fire is still to come.
***
“I just don't see any need for him.”
The target of my comment not even glancing in my direction, instead choosing to keep his attention on Garland. The room momentarily filled with two sets of clicking, one from the grandfather clock off to the side, steady and sure, the other, slightly quicker, slightly off kilter, the bright ruby ring on Madam Garland's hand lightly clacking against her neatly ordered desk.
“And I believe he'd be more satisfied getting back to his ordinary duties.”
The man's attention briefly shifting to me. Not voicing any disagreement.
“I've-” Garland stopping, then restarting. “We have taken it upon ourselves to act as your sponsor for the next few months-”
“I'm doing my best to repay that kindness.”
“-so, you must understand, we have an obligation to keep you from coming to harm. He's been assigned for your own benefit.”
“Do you know what I usually spend the majority of my time doing?”
“Stealing and murdering.” Kyle offering his completely off base couple of cents.
“No.” That was always more of a side hustle. “I've always spent the majority of my time in the field. I find it enjoyable and challenging; it's the reason I came out here in the first place. It's only a pleasant bonus that the money's also good.”
“Which is why you're so in debt.” Kyle adds two more cents.
“You hear this?” Tilting my head at him. “These snide little comments. I don't mean to be an ungrateful guest, but if this keeps up I'm going to be forced to do something about it.” Turning toward him. “I used to have to tie people up before I brought them down into the sewers. Most got mercy, it was nothing personal, but some needed to learn a lesson. Right now, I won't even need to tie you up while I'm feeding you piece by piece to the rats.”
“You psycho-”
“Please leave us.” Madam Garland's polite veneer straining almost beyond the breaking point.
“Ma'am, Jacob said-”
“I'm aware of what my husband said. You are to return to your previous duties for the time being.”
Kyle swallowing his next words, getting to his feet, saluting, and then leaving the room.
“That,” taking the opportunity to stretch my arms and re-situate myself in my seat, “is a load off my mind.”
“I thought I made this clear yesterday.” Garland's pleasant facade vanishing. “You should be more grateful for the little allowances I've permitted while you're a guest in my House. You should be grateful that I've permitted you a room with a bed. Right now I own you - make no mistake about that - you're my property. By all rights you should be sleeping in the yard and eating from a bowl on the ground. Anything more than that is at my whim. You may think you're tough but keep it up and you won't be the only one punished, your friends may end up suffering the consequences.” Garland giving a single, mirthless laugh. “I don't suppose friend is really the correct word. Assets, more like, swayed by a silver tongue. I'll strip you of those assets.”
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Doing my best to remain calm - the very picture of calm - the eye of the storm. Blindside's warning echoing. Stay away from Magpie. Need to send Evie a letter and let her know that everything's basically under control. And Kate. Kate. She never came by today.
“But maybe that's backwards.” Garland's voice now a murmur, her attention back on her formerly tapping hand, seeming to forget me entirely. “With that blonde girl, perhaps it's actually the other way around.”
“I'm holding up my end of our arrangement.” Clearing my throat, and the scales of speculation falling from her eyes. “I assume you've already gotten a report on how my first day went.”
“I did. Glowing praise and a good deal of skepticism. They don't actually believe you're you, although that stubborn girl running things down there thinks it's possible.”
“People believe what they want to believe. I've always found keeping busy makes the day go quicker, and I'm not allergic to work. If you let me go out with your field team they'll all be less skeptical about my identity.” Quirking her eyebrow. “Maybe they have some stuff they'd like me to charge?”
“At some point, maybe.” Her tone making it clear pigs would first fly. “In the meantime there's plenty for you to do in town. We'll make sure your hands aren't idle. Speaking of which, let me see your hands.” The woman scowling. “There's dirt under your fingernails.”
“What do you think they have me doing down there? Listen, while I'm here I'll bow and scrape and make sure my hands are extra tidy, if you want, but I also need time away from here. That was my only real stipulation, if you recall. I'm even putting up with this tracking device.” Tugging on my necklace and looking in the direction of the other person in the room. The Augur. A different Augur, the one from yesterday is out today and this one is filling the gap. “I need time in the field. It's absolutely nonnegotiable.”
It's also the absolute last thing that you, or anyone else, wants. Me getting even stronger. But that's tough shit, you all missed your chance to crush me months back.
Garland's attention back on her hand, on her ruby ring. She spends a lot of time focusing on that. Trying to shrug it off, but a nagging suspicion forcing my attention back to it. Why is she- My breath catching at the realization. Doing a quick scan of her clean, well ordered desk. No statue of a goddess, no golden doe, no flowers, no holy symbol of any kind. Not even a potted plant or irregularly watered fern sitting off in the corner of the room. But that ring would explain.
“You want time in the field?” she says. “I have two concerns. The first, you get ambushed and end up unable to work off your debt the following day as a result.”
“I have contingencies in place.”
“Be that as it may-”
“It's taken care of.”
“Be that as it may,” growling, clearly not pleased, “my second concern, anyone you go out with may suffer misfortune, as a result. You may be very skilled at taking care of you, but I imagine that's roughly where it ends.”
“I'm touched you're so concerned about my friends. I have faith they can handle the challenge.”
“I'm worried about my people, not your sacrificial pawns. If you can convince the entire group I'll permit you to go out with them one day a cycle. Then you can spend your evening hours offering your services here.”
“That's fair.”
“That's every person.” Wagging her finger. “Unanimous consent. Depending on the day that may also mean convincing that boy you insulted and threatened only a few minutes ago.”
“I'll manage.” That may be difficult. “Thank you.”
“You're dismissed.”
Getting to my feet and turning to leave.
“Curtsy.” The voice from behind stopping me short.
“What?”
“You said you'd bow and scrape, but I think it's much more appropriate for you to curtsy.”
Swallowing my immediate invective. “I beg your pardon?”
“You don't even know how, do you?” Garland gesturing at the Augur. “Show her how to curtsy.” After the barest hesitation, the other woman changing the positioning of her feet and bending her legs. “There, like that. Now you try.” Not even a hint of a smirk. “This is for your own benefit.”
Bow and scrape had been a poor choice of words, but no reason not to play along with something so petty. Positioning my feet and emulating the curtsy.
“That's close, but not right,” says Garland. “Your back foot was off. A bit more. That's better. Try again, but this time also hold your skirt with both hands. Pretend it's ankle length and you don't want it to hit the floor.” Keeping those instructions in mind and dipping another curtsy. “Better. I'll make a proper young lady of you, yet. How about we try and tackle some of your verbal defiance, next?”
“Fuck you.”
“Definitely a worthwhile project. I'll come up with some carrots and sticks. You're dismissed.”
Leaving the room and managing not to slam the door, still mostly ensconced within the eye of the storm.
“Macarthy,” says the man at the edge of my peripheral vision. Had been wondering what he'd do, but it looks like he just wants to chat.
“Kyle, I'm sorry about earlier but it managed to get you off babysitting duty.” The man taking an aggressive stance and a step toward me. He may end up getting some blood on his clothing to go along with that bruised ego. Holding my hands up and giving him a thin smile. “ Garland says if I want to go out with you guys one of these days you all need to be on board. I meant no offense. If you want I'll make it up to you, I mean beyond saving you the trouble of following me around in town.” Kyle getting closer. In my personal space and trying to intimidate. Some adolescents have the worst habits.
“You know, Macarthy, when Jacob told me I had to watch you, I didn't really know whether you were actually you.”
“The one and only.” Holding my arms out wide. Doesn't look amused.
“I don't really care who you are. You want to make it up to me? You want to go out with us? How about you suck my cock and then thank me for the opportunity. I'll think about it after.”
Blood, it is.
“Is there anything else you'd like to beg me for while you still have the ability to-”
“Hey, Mac.” Omen's voice right in my ear and his arm on my shoulder. Giving a start but managing to keep both my feet on the ground. “Cut the kid some slack. I'm sure he was only joking, isn't that right?”
“Yeah,” Kyle also unnerved at his sudden appearance, “it was only a joke.”
“Good lad. As a personal favor, I'd like it if you could give her a break. From what I've heard she's had a rough time. That goes for you, too.” Booping me on the nose with a finger. Gritting my teeth. “Don't take every bit of banter to heart.”
“Whatever.”
“If you want.” Kyle's parting words, leaving me and Omen behind.
“So let's say the first round is on you,” he says, giving me a smirk. “As thanks for me for diffusing that little situation.”
“Can't tonight, I'm totally broke. Like, I'm in the negative.”
“Convenient. How about you owe me?”
“Thanks but I need to do some prep.” His clear disappointment making my stomach do a guilty flop. Hurriedly trying to salvage it. “How about next cycle? I'll get some money together and treat you.”
“How about right now? C'mon, give me a half hour.”
Closing my eyes for a moment and trying to come up with an excused. Still need to make some alterations to my gear, but there'll be time to do that. Still being watched by that Augur, have to be careful with my words. That's doable. His arm still around me, sure and secure. As tempting as it is, don't want to mess up my relationship with him.
“Let's go.”
Leaving the stifling confines of the vegetation and getting out to the street. Ignoring the glances and conversations paused on the way out. Omen's hand on my hip. Acting overly familiar.
“You don't really believe I'm me, do you?”
“Mac, what-” His carefree demeanor slipping. “Is that honestly a bad thing?”
“I dunno. Maybe I was expecting too much.”
“Mac was about this tall.” Putting his hand about a foot above my head. “And you're here.” Giving my head a pat. “I also expected some kind of sibling resemblance, but you'd be a cousin, at best. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt if you say you're Mac.”
“Because you don't actually believe me.”
“Because I don't really think it's relevant. Mac and I were pretty good buddies, but I haven't seen him in almost a year. Even under the most ordinary of circumstances people change, but this is more than that. I don't want to live in the past, I'd rather get to know the you of here and now.”
“The past is important.”
“Past is merely prologue.” His reply, predictably, flippant. “What really matters is what we're going to be doing in the future. Here we are, if you want to come in for a drink.”
Not an inn, we'd arrived at an apartment building a few blocks away from the Druid grove. It would be so easy to just let things happen, forget my current plans for the evening, throw all the remaining vestiges of my old relationship away, and get to know the him of here and now. Sounds nice and easy. It may even end up being the correct choice. Opening my mouth but then my acceptance catching in my throat.
“I'd love to, but I have projects I need to get to tonight. I promise I'll get you next cycle.”