Marcus found a big warehouse down the street where the merchant had pointed and outside the building, a girl stood smoking. Marcus thought she might be his own age, but her face looked tired and her posture felt exhausted. He pushed off from the wall, not using it any longer as his crutch. He didn’t want this person to see he was still wounded, and he made an effort to walk straight.

His leg protested and pain shot through his thigh and up past his hip bone. Just when Marcus thought he was going to give up, to surrender to his limp. The girl looked up. Their gazes caught and Marcus forced himself to ignore the pain and his instincts to lean into his good leg.

She brought up a cigarette to her mouth and took a drag. She watched him as she exhaled and smoke blew toward Marcus. He was close to her now and leaned casually against the wall of the building, releasing some of the tension in his leg but not showing any signs of pain toward the girl.

“Do you work in there?” he asked.

She had a tattered apron on her. It was clean, very clean, and white, but the edges of the hem were frayed and the pocket seam hung on one side.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“It’s a laundry service, right?”

She took another drag on her cigarette and blew out smoke in his face. Marcus held his breath and let the soft cloud pass into nothingness. She seemed to like his unperturbed way and gave him a smile.

Marcus smiled back, but only slightly, a curve of his lips upward. He didn’t want to show too much of himself to her. He thought he was getting better at this. Better at sneaking around, spying, lying to people. Maybe Mel had been right in tasking him with this mission. Maybe he could find out what she wanted to know.

“Yeah,” the girl finally said. “Do you need cleaning or what?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I get it for free in the army.”

She looked down at his chest, lingering on his Aldrion blue shirt stretching over his muscles. Then her eyes lifted to his again.

“I probably cleaned that,” she said. “We do the army’s laundry, too. We probably clean all of Aldrion’s clothes by now. An ever-expanding empire.”

She puffed out a bit of smoke on the last sentence and her gaze left Marcus, taking on a far-away look. He wasn’t sure what this meant, but he was sure that this was the right place to ask about Headmaster Lorken.

“So you wash Headmaster Lorken’s clothes, then?” Marcus asked.

Her gaze landed on him again, but this time, her expression had changed into a frown.

“I can’t disclose customers.”

“Sure,” Marcus said. “But you said you clean everyone’s clothes, right?”

“Right. What do you want?”

“I’m looking for a job,” Marcus said.

“As a cleaning lady?” she said, snorting.

Marcus smiled, but shook his head. “I heard Lorken pays, even for his cleaning. I assumed you need other types in your line of business.”

Marcus crossed his arms over his chest, flexing his muscles underneath his shirt. Her gaze glanced over his body again and then up to his eyes. It looked like it was working. She looked like she understood what he meant.

She threw the cigarette down on the ground and extinguished it with her shoe. She hitched a thumb back at the warehouse and the closed doors behind her.

“If you’re serious and want to do menial work, you can follow me inside and talk to my boss. She seems to always be looking for your type. Not enough of you or something, with the war going on.”

“Yeah, I’m serious,” Marcus said.

She nodded, lingering outside the door for a while before she extended her hand to Marcus. “I’m Tara and my boss is always referred to as Ms. Leanne.”

“Okay, good to know,” Marcus said, clasping her hand in his. “I’m Marcus. Nice to meet you, Tara.”

#

Inside the warehouse, Marcus followed Tara through lines and lines of buckets and women washing linen and clothes. They dipped the fabric in one bucket, pushing it down and up along a flat board, and then wrung out the water by squeezing the fabric hard between their hands. There was water sloshing against the floor, and many of them didn’t even seem to notice that Marcus was in here, disturbing their peace.

The faces of the women were tired, and their expressions haunted. Their clothes were broken, but clean, just like Tara’s and next to each washing station there was a tap that they turned on once in a while, sloshing water down into one of the buckets. Marcus heard his boots creak against the wet concrete floor and there was an overall dampness about this place.

Tara led him up a metal staircase at the end of the warehouse and it gave off a tired squeal when he took the steps two at a time to the first floor. Tara opened up a door leading into an office and stuck her head inside. She was blocking the entrance for Marcus and he couldn’t see much inside.

“I picked up a new delivery boy,” Tara said into the room. “Should I send him in?”

“Yes, send him to me,” a voice said from inside.

Tara turned back to Marcus and gave him a gesture to enter the office. He did and inside sat a primly dressed woman in a blue hat behind a large wooden desk. She spun on her chair and gestured for Marcus to take a seat.

Tara closed the door behind Marcus and he dragged in a slow breath, trying to calm his emotions. He could do this, he could lie to her successfully and get the job. Marcus took a seat on the only other chair in the room. It was stiff and creaked slightly as he sat down.

“Welcome. I’m Ms. Leanne and this is my company.”

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She stood up from her chair and paced the small office. Her dress dragged a little as she walked, and Marcus couldn’t help but notice the embroidered fabric around her waist.

“So Tara told me you want to work for me?”

“Yes,” Marcus said.

“I don’t get a lot of army men who want to work as delivery boys,” she said, lifting an eyebrow at him and noticing his clothes.

Marcus swallowed hard. “I heard from a soldier who dated one of your laundry-girls that you pay good. Or rather that your customers pay good.”

“Straight to the point, I like that.”

She stopped, staring at him, and then looked out a small window in her office. It wasn’t directed toward the outside, but rather at the inside of the warehouse, and Marcus guessed she could see the laundry-girls working from here.

“My customers pay well, yes. But I’m a businesswoman first and foremost and I don’t like handing away my money to my employees. I will pay a fair wage, maybe slightly less, but work is hard to come by in Aldrion these days and most are happy for the opportunity.”

She turned around, watching Marcus again. “Do you think you will be happy with that? I’m not looking for someone who will do a bad job and complain about the pay.”

Marcus heard the chair creak and realized he was wriggling in it. He pushed his palms flat on his thighs and forced himself to sit completely still and meet Ms. Leanne’s gaze.

“I won’t complain. I need a bit more money now than what the army pays and I’m willing to work for it.”

“Why?” Leanne asked.

Marcus licked his lips. “I seem to have gotten myself into some debt recently. Not much, but just enough that I will be happy for any job you have to offer. Even as a delivery boy. Nothing is beneath me at the moment.”

She watched him, looking for signs of him lying. Marcus held his breath steady and prayed to the dragons that she didn’t recognize him as someone from the dragon cult. He didn’t want her to know he wasn’t from Aldrion. He thought it easier if she thought he was a normal Aldrion born who had a bit of a gambling problem or something instead.

“Okay,” she finally said. “I can help you with the debt if you do a good job for me. I’m a connected woman and can make it go away. But only if you prove to me you deserve it.”

Marcus sat completely still, not saying anything. It was quiet for a beat, and then Ms. Leanne walked back to her chair. She sat down, smoothing her dress out, and watched him from under the rim of her blue hat.

“You can have a shot at the job,” she said. “Be here tomorrow. You have Sundays off, right?”

Marcus nodded in response.

“Good, then be here at sunrise and you can help one of my regular delivery boys with his deliveries. Learn from him and pay attention, because I won’t give you another chance if you mess up.”

“What’s the pay?” Marcus asked, feeling like he wanted to sell his persona of a person in a slight gambling debt.

“Nothing,” she said. “Not for tomorrow, at least. That will be your opportunity to show me you're good enough to get paid. After your shift, we can talk and settle on what I’ll pay you.”

Marcus exhaled in a long, slow sigh. “Fair enough.”

He stood up from the chair and headed out from Ms. Leanne’s office. In the warehouse, he shook his head to himself.

He had conned himself into a job that seemed completely terrible, and he wasn’t even sure he would get near Headmaster Lorken. Marcus felt happy about flexing his skills in lying and being a spy, but deflated about what his efforts had gotten him.

Mel would go into the wastes tomorrow morning at sunrise, when he was now supposed to work his first shift, unpaid for Ms. Leanne. He would miss saying goodbye to her and he had to hope it was for the best. That he would find the information she wanted and that she would… be happy with him?

He wasn’t really sure what he was hoping for, that she would change her mind about him or that she would nudge his arm like a friend and tell him he was a good boy. He didn’t want to think about Mel or how she would react if he succeeded at this mission. He needed to keep his head in the game and not get caught.

#

The next day at sunrise, Marcus watched the horizon to the east, thinking about Mel, and sent a prayer to the dragons to watch over her out in the wastes. He continued, leaving her behind him, up the street to the warehouse. He slipped inside the heavy doors and was met by the smell of laundry detergent and sweat.

The women were already at their stations, working hard with cleaning clothes and linen, and Marcus had to wonder if they ever got to see the sunlight. He wasn’t sure of the setup here, but he couldn’t see Tara at any of the stations, so he guessed she had the morning off.

Marcus took the steps two at a time up to Ms. Leanne’s office and knocked on the closed door. His leg felt good today. He had rested last night and skipped his exercise to keep all his energy for today.

He heard her tell him to come inside, and Marcus did. Ms. Leanne greeted him with a thin-lipped smile and in front of her desk, on the hard wooden chair, an older man sat in a worn brown shirt.

He looked up at Marcus and gave him a smile, too. His mouth didn’t have all his teeth left, and Marcus had to steel himself to not stagger back. He made an effort to look relaxed and gave the man a nod.

“This is my best delivery boy,” Ms. Leanne said, pointing at the man who Marcus would never have guessed could be referred to as a boy.

The man stood from the chair and stretched out a hand to Marcus. He took it and they shook.

“The name is James,” the man said.

“Marcus. Nice to meet you.”

“James will show you the ropes today, and I expect you to keep up with his deliveries. See me when you’re done and we can talk about money.”

Ms. Leanne had a finality to her tone, and she ended with a wave of dismissal. James didn’t seem bothered by this, but only stalked out the door. He walked into the warehouse and the washing women standing by their buckets of water. James slid down the stairs in gingerly steps and walked off through the rows of workstations.

Marcus had to hurry to keep pace with James, who looked like he took his strides in a leisurely way. A bead of sweat trickled down Marcus’ face and he wasn’t sure if it came from nerves or the slight pain in his leg.

At the other end of the warehouse, neat packages wrapped with paper and twine stood piled on top of each other against the wall. They had little note cards on top with handwriting on and James looked over a couple of them. He waved to Marcus to come closer and, without glancing up, he started the lecture.

“These are the addresses of where we should deliver the packages,” James said. “Most on my route have only one package to deliver. But some have two or three. I have the only residential route, a bit trickier than the rest and only uphill too. But you will see.”

He gave Marcus another disturbing grin and then pointed to something behind them.

“Get the carts, will you?” he said. “We need two today.”

Marcus spun on his heels, looking at the other wall and seeing wooden carts lined up. He pushed one and then two over to James and James started packing them full of wrapped packages of people’s dry-cleaning.

“So, do you have any famous people on the route?” Marcus asked.

James kept packing and once in a while he would throw over a package for Marcus to place down. But his eyes never left the labels and his concentration seemed absolute.

“Famous?” he said after a while. “Hmm… they might be. Not that I care. For me, Ms. Leanne is famous, that’s enough.”

Marcus felt a stone sink in his stomach. Had he gone to all this trouble just so he could deliver washed clothes to rich people in the city all day for no money? He felt stupid for agreeing to do this job and even more stupid for not even knowing he would get to go to Headmaster Lorken’s place.

“You said it was mostly uphill, right?” Marcus asked. “Can I ask where, uphill?”

“Sure thing,” James said. “You should ask questions today. As many as you have in that head of yours. Tomorrow, you will be on your own. So it’s better to ask them now than never, I say. Uphill is in the south, up the mountainside. Have you ever seen the dragon forge in the night? We’ll almost go all the way up there today. Of course, that place might still be blown up, you know, but we’ll be in the area at least.”

Marcus felt hope surging in his chest again. He knew Headmaster Lorken lived up there by the dragon forge and the Falden school of magic. Everyone knew that much. Then it wouldn’t be too crazy to think they might actually deliver to Lorken’s doorstep, would it?