“Mac, I need to talk to you.”
Glancing up from the final row of seedlings for the day. Something seems off with him.
“What's up?”
“I'd rather discuss it in private.”
Everything seemed to have been going pretty well today. Maybe it's because we'd all sort of fallen into a routine, but the undercurrent of jitters from the past couple cycles has been absent. Ever since getting approval from Garland to go out into the field. Ever since last day four. Did anything else happen that day? It feels like something else did happen, but nothing concrete is coming to mind.
“Give me a couple minutes to finish these last few.”
So why's he here? It probably has to do with yesterday, but yesterday also seemed like it went well. But maybe it only went okay and they were being professionally polite, and now he's here to break the news. Well, it happens. Staying out of their way and being non confrontational - or even plainly agreeable - won't make everyone like me, so it's not worth stressing about. Unclenching my jaw and redoing the last couple plants. Unsmooshing them. There, done.
Giving Bailee an openhanded wave and then following Omen in the direction of one of the stores. Going inside and eventually finding myself in a narrow, squashed backroom. Turning to ask why he'd come and my words filling his open mouthed kiss. The man freshly shaven and smelling mildly like soap. Simultaneously pressing me back against the wall and pulling me toward him. His hand reaching under my skirt.
“Wait,” pulling back for a breath, “what are you doing?”
“I can't help it. I saw you in this outfit working away and I want you. How about a quickie?”
“Who do you think you're trying to sweet ta- ah!” His hand finding its destination at the sweet spot between my legs.
“You. I'm trying to sweet talk a little cutie like you.” His mouth coming in to steal another kiss and his fingers stealing inside.
“N- not here. I'm- I'm busy with work.”
“You liar. You said you finished up. Isn't this what you want? Just admit it. Tell me how much you want it.”
“I, I-” My already weak resistance failing. Offering no protest. Leaning against him and burying my face in his shoulder. Simply letting everything happen and then getting caught up in the moment. A needy, wanton slut getting my brains screwed out in the backroom of one of Haven's stores.
“I like you a lot better like this.” His words in my ear. Trying to steady myself, both feet back on the floor, as he refastened his pants.
“So what'd you come by for?”
“I came by to say I'm not going to be able to see you tonight. Plans. How about on two?”
“That's it? You had me thinking I messed up with them yesterday.”
“Now why would you think that?” Tousling my hair and sending my stomach for another spin. Smirking down at me, but then his smirk fading. “You know what? I've decided something. As cute as you are like this, you need to make one little change.”
He suddenly looks so serious. “What's that?”
“I don't want you wearing panties anymore. That's how it's going to be from now on, you're forbidden from wearing them.”
“Omen, you can't just-” Holding up his hand. How'd he get those? Becoming aware of our combined fluids leaking down my thighs.
“I'll see you in a couple days.”
“Wait, Omen.” Unsteadily following after him. Turning the corner and the man already gone. Vanished.
That cocky piece of shit. Barging in, effortlessly turning me on my head and then stealing my goddamned underwear for good measure. The person manning the shop's counter openly eyeballing me. He definitely heard us.
***
“I have business inside the district. Here's my invitation.”
The guard squinting at the invitation. Squinting at me. A gust of wind blowing through, underneath my cloak and right up my dress. Shifting from foot to foot. My room had been ransacked – very neatly, else nothing out of place – but all my underwear had been taken. Strutting around town with no panties in the chilly fall air isn't fun, and tonight's a breezy evening. Another gust. Shifting some more.
“Go on in,” he says.
“We'll be keeping an eye on you,” the other predictably adding.
Omen, this is completely unacceptable. We're not actually dating and you pull this. It's already beyond obvious there's not going to be a romantic relationship between us even medium term. Not even short term! You worthless son of a- Calming down and recentering myself. Only the underwear's been taken, nothing else. New underwear can be purchased. Should've known he'd do it, should've preemptively purchased some new pairs when picking up the dress and that failure of foresight is on me.
Continuing through the noble district in the direction of the castle and Shaker's borrowed house. A lot of eyes on me, a lot more guards than normal, and wearing a different insignia than the normal guards from the local garrison. They hadn't been at the jail last cycle, and they hadn't been around town earlier today. New arrivals. Stationed here because of the recent fuss, because of me. My paranoia starting to nudge. No harm in asking them, and certainly less harm than not. That one there, he looks like he has a higher rank. One of them seeing me coming and muttering to the others. A single word. Outsider.
“Excuse me. There's a lot of you guys out here today, are you expecting any kind of trouble?”
The man staring at me and his comrades doing the same. Wary and uncomfortable. “No,” he says.
“I don't buy it. I mean, look at all of you out here. Something's up. Why're you so nervous?”
“If you'd like to have a chat about it we could take you in.”
Starting to laugh at them, not out of control or mocking, just a pleasant, amused laugh. There'd been something about the way he'd said it, his discomfort and suspicion and bluster all coming together to form a toothless threat. He doesn't know me, none of them do.
“I think I know what's happening, you guys must've just got in. Well, if you haven't been formally welcomed by anyone yet, allow me.” My mouth going almost as wide as my arms. “Welcome to our city.” A moment passing with no reaction, but then my meaning catching up. Yep, fresh out of boot camp and heads still stuffed full of glory of the Empire. “You guys should relax. I dunno who you pissed off to get sent out here, but your life'll be way easier if you don't let everything get to you.” Scowls not dropping from faces. “So, I'll say it again, welcome. We don't care which puffed up nobleman lives in that castle, but we do appreciate you guys coming in and helping us look after it.”
Leaving the group behind to sort through my mixed message. New troops stationed in the district - and only in this district – probably to give the nobles some psychological measure of security after that recent smidgen of chaos. Or maybe the Empire is using the opportunity to deploy additional troops to reinforce their holdings and that fort out west in preparation for what Rudolf had mentioned. With his precarious status as a sort of political prisoner - political hot potato, really - he's definitely feeling some pressure. Putting the thought out of my head. His troubles are his, and mine are mine. Evie's are mine. Pleasant - need to be pleasant tonight - and let my behavior reflect well on her.
There's Shaker's house, all lit up, and a short line to get inside. Evie? No. Anyone familiar? Nope. Mostly seems like a younger crowd, a few couples all lined up. The guards at the front door giving me that familiar, almost comforting, squint. They, at least, know me. Feels nice to have some of the old rep back with them. Presenting my invitation. Squint, squint. Gesturing me inside.
“Your coat, miss?”
“Care for a drink?”
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“Welcome, Ms. Macarthy.”
“You're looking very pretty this evening.”
The help descending and, after a brief flurry, losing my cloak and gaining an amber colored drink in a long stemmed glass. Taking a sip and scanning the room. Glances coming my way, but no flashes of recognition. Neither the host nor hostess present, and no Evie. A younger crowd, looks like. Wait, standing over there, a more mature flower in bloom among all these weeds. Elizabeth Collier, long limbed, svelte, and with a plunging neckline that manages to attract all sorts of attention. An entire gaggle of greeters and gogglers surrounding her group. The woman casting a perfunctory glance in my direction and a hint of something marring her expression. If that's not an invitation, what else would be? Trotting over to say hello.
“Hello.”
The greeting having the most wonderful effect of momentarily ruining her composure. “Lucy, I was unaware you were going to be attending.” The comment assuredly meant for the woman standing next to her, the one who looked like she'd bitten into a what she thought had been a ripe peach, only to discover it's a rotten pickle. Collier regaining her composure a heartbeat later. “Everyone, I'm certain you all must have heard, but this here is Macarthy.”
With that comment, and a simple gesture, the woman deftly siccing the entire goggling gaggle onto me.
“You're Macarthy?”
“All that stuff can't be true, can it?”
“How do you take care of your hair?”
Barely any hostility whatsoever, seems like there's no real need for concern. Guess there shouldn't be. Not anymore. Liz, nice try, but it turns out this is an opportunity. There's no need to be annoyed with them. These aren't weeds – who would ever call them weeds? - these are all potential recruits. Holding up my hand to stop the questions.
“I'm Macarthy, but I'd rather you call me Lucy, please. Listen, half of what you heard about me probably isn't true, and the other half's definitely exaggerated.”
“So you're trying to say you didn't burn all those ships?” The comment coming from one of the less starry eyed members of the group.
“Only half.” My quip earning a polite chuckle from one or two, but the rest not taking it well. Take it easy, keep it cheerful and light. “But all that's been sorted out. Remember this truism while you're here: it's much easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission.” The group not taking that piece of advice very well, either. Closed mouths, not even polite smile. Collier watching the exchange with the barest hint of a smirk, sending my blood ticking a few degrees north. “Let me tell you something,” my voice raising a few degrees north, as well, “when someone does something to deserve that kind of response - and, make no mistake, that's what it was, a response - they better be happy it was only as bad as it was, because it sure as shit can get much, much worse than that.”
A bunch of nearby conversations dying down and people looking in my direction. Maybe my volume had gone a few clicks beyond reasonable. Riley now in sight and walking in my direction, her eyebrows raised. Finishing the rest of my drink in one go. “Hey, Evie.”
“Lucy.” Not quite disapproval, but not pleased. The girl gauging the rest of the group, unsure of what to say. That's got to be a first. Why's she so hesitant around these nobodies? Ah, that must be it, they must be in her year. Some of the ones who scurried away or shunned her, months back. What a tragedy. Took my eyes off her for two seconds and now she's back to worrying about these fair weather phonies.
“Evie.” Walking toward her and one of the guys getting in my way. Purposefully. Has to be. Correcting him. The shield very briefly springing into existence and some space clearing out as a result. Walking right up to her. “You're looking well. It's great to see you.”
The girl's eye twitching. Mouth twitching. Then losing herself in emotion and committing a serious breach of decorum. Throwing her arms around me and hugging tight. “I'm glad to see you. I'm glad you came. You seem like you're doing alright.”
“That's because I know what's important now. It's taken me awhile but I know exactly what's important in my life. You asked me to come help you deal with this dreadful, awful party and all these dreadful, awful people and that's why I came. Your cry for help was loud and clear.”
“Thank you.” Riley releasing me, but keeping her hands on my shoulders. “I know some of these people may seem, um, not your type.” Pausing, searching for the word. “Naive, maybe, but you shouldn't hold anything against them.”
“I won't.”
“Good. Now I've got to talk them down. We'll talk at dinner?”
“Yes, I've got big news.
“Big news?”
“Big news.”
“Can't wait.” Raising her voice to collect them. “I'm sorry about my friend she's been...”
Riley wading into the scrum to spin some charm. Collier standing on the sidelines with a full blown smirk. Acquiring a new drink and marching up to her.
“You and I need to talk.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” she says. “A little bird came and told me something. I must say, as amusing as it is to watch a beggar in their birthday suit pretending to wear the Emperor's finest – and it has been fairly amusing, don't get me wrong – I'm sorry that I'm going to have to step in and spoil your oh, so imaginative fun. I'm not going to let you poach any of my members. Not right now, and certainly not in a few months when your parole is supposedly set to end.”
“I'd think that would be more their decision than either of ours.”
“No, it really isn't. All the members of my House have made certain declarations, by blood and deed. As a result they're committed to certain oaths. We're not just going to give them up for nothing.”
“Oaths to your thing?” The wave of amusement carrying me far enough to annoy her. “If your thing is going to be an issue, how about I smash all its idols and run it completely out of town?”
“You wouldn't be the first to try something like that, and we've only grown in the face of those efforts. As amusing as your antics are with those newbies, I, at least, am aware of the specifics of your situation. You're nothing more than a yapping dog on a leash. Your bluster is just your barbarian mindset rattling the bars on your very real cage.”
The wave of amusement carrying me much further this time, earning me more looks. “I'm legitimately surprised you think that. I'm surprised you think you have everything all figured out - and that everything is going to end up being all predictable. You may want to hurry up and get around to believing in a new thing soon, Liz, if this is the way you're going to treat the situation.”
“Mac.” A voice in my ear. “I thought I told you to stay away Magpie.”
Blindside – all these Thieves sneaking up on me is getting old, there has to be some kind of magic item to put a stop to them - and next to him that woman from the office that one time, the Ranger. Wait, didn't Magpie say something about a Ranger trying to keep her from leaving? This has to be her. Committing her face to memory.
“Blindside, if you're upset that Magpie listens to someone like me over someone like you - if you're upset that she currently likes me more than she likes you - know that it's not because I've been better to her, it's because you've been worse.” Cold hate. Time to twist the knife. “I may have done a lot of things in my time, but I've never betrayed family. You know what Sly said to me just the other day? He said he's glad I'm looking after her, he said it takes a load off his mind.”
“If he actually said that he can take a flying leap right along with you.”
“Yeah, whatever. Liz, I-”
In the place that Elizabeth Collier had been standing - a beautiful woman in her own right - there now stands a creature of immense, radiating, captivating beauty. All the big things and little things coming together. Her fingernails manicured to perfection, just long enough to comfortably draw blood. My own, by comparison, not all that well looked after. Her soft, slender hands effortlessly grabbing and holding the attention of any passerby, unlike my smaller, stubbier and more calloused ones. Her bosom, bountiful. Mine, er, um, below average. Her face, breathtaking, and her ruby red lips opening to dispense some pearls of wisdom.
“I think it's gotten rather late.” The goddess's musical melody making me hang on every word. My wrist starting to itch. “I think you've had a very long day and I think that you should treat yourself to some relaxation. I think you've earned it. I think you should go get your coat right now and head home for the evening.” Nodding. Didn't want to come here in the first place, and been working myself to the bone. “While you're heading home you should think about something. You should think about...”
The stunning beauty, the goddess made flesh, making some pretty salient points. Magpie probably is happy where she is. She's got Hugh, after all, and they seem to like each other very much. Evie's doing fine. There she is, right over there. Talking, giving a polite laugh, gritting her teeth, also enjoying herself. Probably shouldn't bother her, either, that's a good point. She's busy. A busy girl. And, yeah, this dress tonight is for here, but once I'm out of here no reason to keep it around, no reason not to take it off. Blindside, the Ranger, and the other woman – the Augur - all seeming to like that. Their outfits are pretty snazzy, bet they're wearing underwear, bet they didn't have that piece of shit Omen raid their underwear drawer and steal every single pair of panties out of it. Worthless son of a bitch.
“-and I think you should take the long way back to Haven, it'll give you more time to think, and you could do with the exercise.” The goddess giving a little snicker. Bet she's wearing panties, too. “Head east and go to the docks. While you're there it's such a nice night that I think it'd be a good idea to go for a swim. Take off your cloak, and your underwear, and then-”
Seeing red. Seeing that miserable demon worshiping worm Elizabeth Collier standing in front of me, telling me to jump into sixty degree water for an evening swim. Not thinking, not second guessing, not being smart about it, not being nice about it, not being subtle about it, and definitely not being circumspect. Grabbing her throat with the shield and squeezing. Going to make your eyes pop.
A lot happening in a very short stretch. The shield drawing a bunch of attention, like always, one of it's most annoying and best features. Liz's eyes all popping out. Fear. Her expression alone making it worthwhile. Getting shoved by somebody, probably Blindside. Makes sense, wasn't really concentrating on anything other than choking the life out of Liz and the shove came from my blindside. Getting out of range of Liz and the shield squeezing her throat winking out of existence. The woman sinking to her knees, coughing.
Rolling back to my feet. “What happened?” “Are you okay?” The two most common questions. Riley coming near me but not saying anything, only standing close.
“I'm not-” Liz giving another cough. Tenderly touching her throat. “I'm not feeling well. Constance, Adrian, please stay here and let the Director know I'm not going to be able to attend.”
Blindside and that Ranger – Constance, adding the name to the face – giving the affirmative and staring daggers at me. Liz leaving with the other woman she'd been with.
“What happened?”
“Evie, do you have something that let's you make suggestions to people? Magical suggestions.”
Blinking in surprise. “Mine doesn't let me do anything like that.”
“Hers does. Be careful around her. She's more dangerous than I'd ever imagined.”