“REMEMBER WHAT THEY STOLE FROM US”
Graffiti near a cache of firearms believed to belong to the Unbound operative Fireside. Uncovered by the Reeve of East London, 2001. Also included, below the tag: ‘MDCCCLXX’
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There was no great surge of magic when she signed her name. No flashes, no sparks, no explosion. Just the weight of her choice, pushing down with the force of a thousand tonnes.
No. That was her first and, for a long time, only thought. No. This wasn’t permanent. This wasn’t real, wasn’t anything. She drank the blood and signed the page, yes, but…
She’ll escape. Others have! Janet and Jayden and even that snivelling Polish kid Andrzej. And their Keepers weren’t delusional little tech boys. Soteris doesn’t stand a chance. It can’t end like this, okay? They can’t steal a person’s home and job and friends and purpose and…. and…
…
… They can’t sign away a life.
She feels Soteris’ hand, rubbing her open skin. His throat’s already stitched together. Another power, must be. Aether shouldn’t heal that quickly. In either case, it makes a gruesome sight.
He’s already looking down at her like she’s… owned. A pet who’s acting fussy, or a child to bark orders to. She doesn’t hide her snarl. Heh. Anyone else in the Court wouldn’t bother trying to contain her, and she takes pride in that. But this man, and his arrogance - no. It’s not quite arrogance, is it? He’s a rooster, scrambling his way to the top and cawing over the spoils. It’s like he knows he’s spewing lies, but is still desperate for the world to believe them.
Good. Arrogance, desperation. Both can be exploited.
But the wizard… Harriet turns. Randall’s quiet on the other side of the room, studiously shuffling papers. He’s the real threat. Beat her once already, and even then, he gave the distinct impression that he was playing with his food. That he’s Caedmon’s Kept is even worse. ‘Masked Death’ they called that man, when he was still Sunwalker’s Reeve. Massacre after massacre, rape and loot and slaughter. The Unbound say he started the First Revolt by himself, so cruelly were Kepts treated beneath him.
She has to be careful. Smart. No windchimes or white-clouding until she can get her hands on a gun. They have to be stored somewhere, right? When she can feel strong again, when she can feel safe again…
The door bursts open, and Harriet’s pulled from her thoughts. The guard, Addana, marches in first, and Harriet gives the woman a full look for the first. She’s big. Blocky, rotund. The ill-fitting uniform gives the impression that she’s not much of a fighter, but every impression in the Court’s deceiving. Another woman soon follows, hanging back by the door. Harriet blinks, caught off guard. This new one wears a purple blouse, knee-high trousers, espadrilles. There’s a black scrunchie on her wrist, and her lips and nails are neon pink. Green eyes dart vigorously around the room, before settling on Harriet, the pool of blood, the stained white dress.
There’s a hint of fear, before she puts on a smile
“‘Ey there, lads!” She waves. “Heh, looks like I missed the party!”
It’s Astrid. The squirrel girl.
image [https://c10.patreonusercontent.com/4/patreon-media/p/post/104264180/68964893e7514dcabd9a141734aee2cd/eyJ3ZWJwIjowfQ%3D%3D/1.jpg?token-time=1722988800&token-hash=cQDlf-KY3wawuTbVU4dICEVUD5mcMUHRoBRc9hiXuuU%3D]
Harriet stares back, watching as Astrid’s eyes fall to her neck. The mark must be quite prominent. How will she… no, no, don’t think about that. That’ll bring the windchimes, stupid. Don’t think now.
“Violet petals on an ocean’s wave.” Randall’s eyes glow. “You’re excited to be here, but I was never informed-”
“I’ve requested that Traynor show Fireside around her quarters,” Soteris explains, his voice restored. “Introduce her to Court life, since she entered it so recently.”
That makes Harriet pause. Astrid’s Nocturnal? Really? It was hard enough to swallow the idea that that preppy MTV girl could even be Oathsworn.
Randall frowns. Stares Astrid down. The girl gives an awkward smile back to him. It’s quite clear to everyone that she’s trembling. “C’mon, Randall. I… hehe, I don’t bite.”
But before they get any further Harriet feels herself yanked back. Pulled into Soteris’ arms. “H-hey!”
“Let’s make sure you understand.” With both standing, it’s clear Soteris towers over her. He leans to pet her hair. “Astrid Traynor is a very sweet girl, who understands better than anyone how to meet my expectations. I want to hear nothing of a cold reception towards her. Is that clear?”
Harriet looks desperately at the others. The ‘sweet girl’ shuffles her feet uncomfortably.
Soteris seizes her jaw, squeezing her cheeks until he causes pain. She starts to squirm, panicking as his eyes glow. “Is that clear?”
“Yesh!” She shouts.
Soteris lets go. But the gleam in his eyes stays. “Full title.”
She gives a low, animal growl. They stay like that for a moment, each waiting on the other to make the first move. But then... “Yes, Keeper.”
She draws each syllable out. Maximising their venom. But Soteris leans back anyway. Smiles. Digs a hand in his pocket. “Excellent. I have a gift for you.”
Her eyes nearly glaze as he reveals a thick choker. Black. Cloth. Very short gold chains on both ends.
“Something to hide the marks.”
Bullshit. They both know he’s handing her a collar.
Harriet doesn’t take it. “Do I look like yer dog?”
“You look however I want you to look.” He lifts his hand. “Now will you put this on, or do I need to order you?”
She snatches it. So ferociously that even Soteris has to stifle a flinch. She’s making the others uncomfortable. Randall, Astrid, both looking away. Only Addana has the balls to keep forward. They’re probably not used to a Kept with this spunk. “Say it.”
Soteris scowls. “Make it just tight enough for you to feel it choke.”
Harriet gasps. Her arms move of their own accord, in jerky, forceful waves. The padding is soft on her skin, and the metal surprisingly thin, but both are pulled so taut that she can feel her breath stiffen. She tries to swallow, with difficulty. The gold is tucked beneath the black, creating the illusion that it’s all an endless mass.
“You’re not allowed to take it off,” Soteris commands.
But not cut, she thinks. Or burn. Or slowly break down into a million little ribbons. Her growl is cut off when he loops his finger through the collar, pulling her harshly forward and ignoring her stifled cry. He takes hold of her back, kisses her cheek. She’s never going to get used to his lips.
“But I will say…” He smirks as he pushes towards Astrid. “... I think it really suits you.”
She half collapses into Astrid’s arms, then pushes out, glaring back furiously. She feels dirty. Humiliated. Enraged. God, she needs a gun. He doesn’t care about her personal space? Fine. Neither do bullets. She’s about to let him have it-
“Need anyfin’?” Astrid pops into her sight, her smiling face between Harriet and Soteris.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Harriet blinks. “Wh-what?”
“New coat, baffroom break, some good shoes? It’s a big building,” Astrid giggles. “Gonna put on lotsa miles!”
“I… I don’t-” Before Harriet can finish, she’s being pulled from the room. Astrid's dragging her by the wrist.
“Of COURSE you don’t! We’ll worry later!” Astrid hustles them out, and uses her heel to kick the door closed behind them. “Oh my gosh, this is so exciting. Your FIRST DAY! And I never get to give the tour!”
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Harriet’s eyes wander over the hallway, completely ignoring Astrid’s rapid-fire words. They’re in open offices again: black wood, grey counters, silver sleek laptops, even a beer-stuffed bar in the corner. But what catches her eyes most is the greenery. Vines and garlands, stretching over the desks or hanging from chandeliers and bright, fluorescent lamps.
Good. Plants are useful. With Paradox, easily manipulated. She’s been searching for exits the entire time. Vantage points, nooks and crannies. She notices quickly how Astrid pushes her past the locked doors. They’re hidden in unlit alcoves, separate from the rest. But what are the chances they’re holding some goods? Really high, if this is a Sovereign’s-
“‘Ello?” Harriet’s interrupted by a swiping, ring-studded hand. “I know you’re not mute.”
Harriet blinks. They’re in a large office. Grey. Sparse. Nothing but a high-end computer and a heavy desk. “Pardon?”
Astrid puts a hand on her hip. “I get ‘at you’re one of those scary, broodin’ types, but I’m just make some conversation.”
“Whaddaya wanna converse about?”
“Anyfin’! I'm an open book!” Astrid smiles. “Books, movies, even this place! It’s won awards, you know. Ever since Soteris ordered ‘at remodel, peeps-”?
She puts her hand on Harriet’s arm, but immediately pulls back.
“Sorry, sorry!” Astrid laughs. “You don’t mind if I touch you?”
“Huh?”
“Well, I’m just a touchy person! Gotta make sure, you know? People, like, they seem like they don’t really mind, but then they give you ‘ese looks, act like ‘ey don’t want you here, you know? You ever get that?” Another laugh. More strained than the first. “But no worries if you say no. ‘At’s why I got me furbies! Er… not real furbies, mind. Cats. They’re cats. Three in all! And I just love to…” She giddily waves her hands. “... squish and cuddle and play wiff ‘em! You dig?”
Dig? Dig what? A hole? Harriet starts to slowly nod, even though she’s not entirely sure what just happened. “Ah… if it’s that important ta ya… I-I can’t say I really mind-“
“Splendid! Bless you. And God, I love that accent on you. It’s just so spic an’ span!” Astrid starts to rub Harriet’s arm, before her expression jolts. “Oh, shit! I completely forgot!”
“Forgot what?” But Harriet’s being grabbed by the wrist again, dragged at a pace far too quick for Astrid’s four-inch heels. “W-wait!”
“Aight, ‘Arriet… can I call you ‘Arriet?”
Harriet’s in a half-panic. “Y-yes?”
The woman squeals. “Eeeee, that’s grand! But you still good’? Not cold? Not tired? Not, heheheheh, okay, okay, no drama, it’s No Drama Month, but I’ve known ‘ose boys for quite a while, and I can tell you, ‘ey get pretty intense.”
Is she still good? No. Of course not! They’re fucking kidnapping her! But for some reason, Harriet guesses Astrid doesn’t want to hear that. It would really kill the mood!
“I-I guess I’m doin’ alright-”
“Awwwwww! Look at you~” Astrid squeezes her hand. “Shoulda expected you’d be tough. You’re Fireside! You’re a soldier! Me? Heh. On my first day of the Keepin’, I fink I just fahkin’ cried!”
That piques Harriet’s interest. Astrid drags them into a breakroom stuff with fridges, mailboxes, vending machines. But Harriet just rushes ahead. “Yer Kept? B-by Soteris?”
“Well…” Astrid giggles. “Technically!” She stoops down into the fridge. “But it’s not really a Keeping Keeping, you know? Allod, I fink ‘ey call it. Fancy way of sayin’ I’m kept on a looser leash.”
Yeah, Harriet guessed as much. Given that only one of them was wearing a goddamn collar. She swallows. “So… h-he doesn’t do anythin’ that could-”
“Ta-daaaaa!” Astrid springs up from the minifridge, turns around. “Here it is!”
Harriet squints. Astrid’s holding a small plastic baggie, fogged from the chill. Inside, a clump of hardened dough, with blue and white icing.
“You didn’t forget, did you?” Astrid claps. “New hire cookies!”
Harriet squints at the words the frosting forms. Written in an elegant, cursive hand: ‘Welcome home, Jessica!’
Astrid takes note of her confusion. “They… didn’t tell me what your real name was ‘till yesterday. I hope you don’t mind.” She shoves the bag into Harriet’s hands. “Go on, go on, open it!”
Deeply aware of Astrid’s stare, Harriet undoes the ziplock. The cookie is hard, and cold. Harriet holds it up like unexploded ordnance, her fingers smeared blue by the icing. She brings it close to her nose, the sugary smell instantly hitting her. Astrid’s expression starts to shrink.
“I… heh… I’m just realisin’ that, uh, you can’t actually… eat… the cookie.” She bites her lip, scratches the back of her head. “Y-you’d fink I’d know ‘at, cuz I can’t, but… it’s still a good gift, right? You could… hold it. Look at it. It’s… it could still sorta be a decoration!”
Harriet just stares at the thing, warming slightly in her pale hand. This… she was taken by the Court, right? The league of corporates and killers trying to enslave humanity?
“Uh, Astrid…” Harriet slowly sets the cookie down. “Ya… know who I am, right?”
“Well, I’d like to fink we’re gettin’ on.”
“N-no. Like… what I’ve done.”
It’s hard to describe Astrid’s response to that. Her face stays the same, yet something incomprehensible changes. “... 'Arriet, it's No Drama Month. We shouldn't be diggin' out stories-"
“Okay, sure. But when ya normally hear a’ folks like that, is makin' sweets always yer first gander?”
“... You don’t like it?” Harriet shrivels as the woman deflates. “Oh bullocks, I’m so sorry. I-I should’ve-”
“No, no, no! That’s not what I said! I like the cookie!”
“Really?” Astrid sniffles. “You don't have to-"
“I do, I do! It’s a… a good gesture. A great gesture! I’m jes’ tryna... why are ya bakin' fer a criminal?”
"Criminal!?” Astrid puts a hand over her heart. “‘Arriet, don’t put yourself down like that!”
“But I-"
“It’s like what me mum always said. Can’t judge books by their covers! Or…” Astrid awkwardly laughs. “Can’t judge books by their insides, in your case. Cuz, uh, if I were to do that, heheheh…” She whistles and looks to the side.
Harriet pauses at that, for more than a little bit. Her eyes start darting around the room, as if the various bulletins might reveal some long-lost answer. “I...”
She stops. Behind Astrid, the walls are replaced with a massive, floor-to-ceiling pane of glass. A heavy curtain’s coiled over it, or maybe meshing, or a screen. She can’t tell in the darkness, nor does she want to. She’s too captivated by the view.
When was the last time she was this far up? The Rockies, maybe. Curling beneath the aspens with a fire, pointing at the distant stars. But their heights can’t compare to this. A metropolis beneath her feet, revealed by a sea of lights cut only by steel shapes that jut like rocks along a shore. She sees so much of the city: The London Eye, Victoria Tower, St. Paul’s Cathedral. New constructions when she first came to these streets, now dwarfed by a metal maze two mortal lifetimes in the making.
There are no trees. No grass. The cars are small as ants, to say nothing of the people. She hears wind pound on the window, and feels the building’s sway. It makes her spine shrivel, her breath grow short and harsh. Her eyes tilt towards the sky, an old, habitual comfort. But that only makes her gut tighten more.
She can’t see any stars.
Astrid finally takes notice. Harriet hears her approach, by the clacking of her heels. “‘Arriet? You arright?”
Harriet squeezes her hands together. “Yer… ya been Kept by Soteris long, Astrid?”
Astrid blinks, pondering. “A… couple months? But I’ve known him much longer.”
“An’ he’s never made ya… do things, right?” Harriet’s face starts to twitch. “Things that made ya feel… d-dirty? Or…”
Astrid shifts as she finally realises. Just in time for Harriet to collapse to the floor. “Fireside!”
Harriet’s face is buried in her hands. Her breathing is ragged, her skin even more pale. No no no no no no no. The windchimes scream.
“‘Arriet.” Astrid kneels down, grabbing her shoulders. “Look at me!”
It’s happening again it’s happening again it can’t she doesn’t want it but it’s happening-
“He’s gonna keep you safe!”
That catches her. Harriet jolts up, staring into Astrid’s eyes. They both seem equally terrified.
Harriet speaks first. “From what?”
“From… from everyfin’. From them!” Astrid waves towards the windows, the city beyond. “I… look. You’re tough. ‘At’s what you want me to see, an’ I know you are, but I also know you must be scared shitless cuz you’ve fahked with some really powerful people out there!” Astrid struggles to not shout. “I know you’ve heard lots of shit. About Keepings and punishments, but it’s more complicated than that!”
Harriet blinks. Punishments? She didn’t-
“Soteris is obsessed wiff you, arright? Has been since he got off the plane in Scotland. Do you fink a man would take on the entire Court just to… just to use you like he could any whore?” Astrid shakes her head. “This is a rescue. We fix you up. We teach you manners. We take you to the Court, and you get yourself redeemed. ‘At’s the end goal. ‘At’s mine. I’ve been Soteris’ friend for a long time. He’s seen me through some real shit. An’ I can promise you, wiff all my heart, he ain’t that kinda man.”
Harriet says nothing. Astrid’s grip is firm. Her words certain. It’s… hard to not just… melt in them.
“You believe me,” Astrid asks. “Right?”
Harriet slowly nods.
“Good. Awesome. That’s… that’s just spic an’ span.” Astrid stands up and dangles the plastic bag in front of Harriet’s face. “Come on. You forgot your cookie.”
Harriet takes it, and watches the girl skip ahead, but stays where she is, her back against the glass. That girl’s drawing something from her. She’s breathing more, her heart’s beating more, and her skin is always warm, like it’s trying to match Astrid’s heat. But what is it? Another power? Or…
Harriet seizes the cookie with both hands. Reads the little message and loops in her mind. Welcome home, Jessica. Welcome home, Jessica.
Either Astrid Traynor is one of the sweetest girls in the Court of the New Sun…
… or one of its most dangerous.
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