“Can’t, did something to my knee on the job, shouldn’t even really be walking around.” Soune lied, hanging and swinging her leg to accentuate the point.
“It’s against my beliefs.” Kirche patted her red shoulder pad.
King grunted and rolled his eyes.
“Excuse me ladies, we were in the middle of a conversation.” The wiry man, in his ratty suit stepped forward and leaned backwards on the desk. King’s eyes glared at the casual movement.
“Sounded more like an old fashioned whine session.” Soune commented.
“If you girls are starting a sewing circle, I’m hurt we weren’t invited.” Kirche held her hand over her chest in a faux offence.
Scirocco fumed, raising to start an argument with the pair, he was interrupted by King.
“Mr. Reyar had just finished his report on an oddity in one of my towns. He was leaving now.” A low, telling glare bore into the plaid suits back.
“I was?” Scirocco turned back.
“You were. I’ll deal with this Ingram issue. Good day, Scirocco.”
The suited man rose, shrugging to try and regain some of his forced composure, polished shoes clicked on tiles as he strode out.
“Mangy fuckin’ strays.” He breathed out past the pair.
“Scumsucking rat.” Soune bit back, Kirche only winked and pecked a kiss towards him.
Once the door slammed shut behind him, King breathed a sigh of relief and gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.
“Sit, I know why you’re here.”
“That certainly saves us the trouble-” Kirche started as they took their seats. “-and time.”
“Time is money.” Soune added.
“Yep, so where's ours?” Kirche finished, leaning an elbow onto King’s desk, the same annoyance flashing in his eyes at the invasion. Soune leaned back and crossed her arms.
“You two have this down to a science, don’t you?” King remarked, silence in response. He sighed again, raising with a weary grunt and walking to a wall safe. “I’m not going to mince words here, I’m disappointed. Disappointed that you and your little group never visit to pay respects or tribute. It’d make it much easier to meet and talk about your next jobs, not having to hold your payments simply to draw you out of the woodwork.”
“There's this wonderful new method called scheduling. I’m sure the cutie out front could figure that out.” Kirche began flipping through the files on the desk. Pages upon pages of unparseable data, spreadsheets of numbers made her eyes swim.
“What happened to Sal?” Soune added.
“She retired. With full benefits.” King snapped back, slamming the safe door shut.
“I’m sure…” Soune started investigating the files too, opening a binder of pages near black with dense text. A strong hand slammed it shut.
“...Best to leave finished business finished.” He dropped back to his rolling, pleather throne with a grunt, dropping a jingling sack onto the desk. Slowly, pointedly, he counted and doled out two columns of coins. “Now, let’s finish ours for the day.”
“Where’s Raz and Tonio’s?” Kirche demanded curtly. King halved the columns, relishing the flair. “Bullshit.” Kirche hissed.
“Half-pay for half a job. Fifty Regents each.”
“Half a job?” Kirche raised from her seat, biting back accusations, trying to not leak the information her fellow demon hunters worked to keep from King. “They changed the pattern, YOU gave us bad info, we did the best we could and still managed to get one full cargo, had to fight off a full security squad for it too.”
“I wouldn’t call what you dealt with security. A handful of screaming beasts.” Kirche froze, Soune stiffened too, something cold wrapping around their spines. “Oh? You thought I didn’t know? You two don't seem to understand.” King slammed his hands on the desk, toppling the coins as he stood and towered over the two.
“I am King. My domain as far as the horizon, as deep as the quarries. I tolerate your games, scurrying and conniving about as if you are outside my rule, greater than it. But I will not stand for being underestimated. Kuvie, I know about your Red Shoulder friends, I know about what they paid you for the corpses, the lengths they went to to keep that from me. The evidence you’ve offset to Argent, who is not without blame.” He shifted his cold gaze to Soune, who met it with a lip-parted glare.
“I know about your little pet project, the advanced drone you’ve got locked up, building a weapon out of it, and all the salvage you’ve pocketed for yourself or kept hidden in your little yard for the others. I see this, and allow it, because I am a kind King, a just King. But I will NOT!” He slammed the desk again, making the women jump.
“Be treated as an ignorant fool for my generosity. Am I understood?”
They didn’t respond. He slammed the desk again.
“Am. I. Understood?”
“...yes,my King.” Kirche relented. Soune didn’t budge, meeting a razor glare with her own. She ignored the bump against her leg, begging her to obey, and the harder one afterwards.
“Nothing to say? Argent?” He growled, primal and deep.
Every part of her wanted to lunge into survival instincts, fighting instincts, to grab his shirt collar and drive her forehead into a fragile nose. She visualised how easy it would be, to break his nose, jump atop the desk and tackle him down, and start beating into him. She wouldn’t stop, not until aged bones fractured and disintegrated, not until she had struck him enough that her knuckles were gashed to bone. It disgusted her to deny herself that, to swallow everything that she’d been taught about standing up for herself, to humiliate and lower herself before him. To Obey.
“...Yes, my King.” She gritted out, beside her Kirche sank in relief.
“Good. I knew I liked you girls for a reason. You understand the hierarchy of this world, even if you don’t always appreciate it as much as you should.” He returned to his seat, digging a couple more coins out of a sack and throwing them into the scattered pile. “Because I am a just and generous King, I will reward you for your loyalty, and pay reparations for your troubles.”
Kirche grunted out a thanks for the extra pay. Soune said nothing, biting her lip to stop the tears of frustration and defeat leaking out, nails digging hard against the fabric of her pants.
“Now, that concludes what I wanted to talk with you two about, re-establishing our standings with each other. I hope from now on, should you run into any issues upon your assignments, no-” He brushed his coat flat, and rubbed his head back in thought. “-upon completion of your assignments from now on, no matter the complications or results, I want you, all of you, to report back in person now. You can receive your compensation in person, save my couriers the trouble.”
Both of them sighed internally, cursing the colossal waste of time and effort this would be.
“As for your next assignment. Mr. Reyar has brought something to my attention that I would like you to investigate.” He turned on his seat, rifling through a cabinet drawer. Soune raised a savage, offensive gesture to his back. Kirche quickly lowered it.
King cleared the centre of his desk, scattering papers onto the floor before spreading a map out. A rough-edged blob of a map, his supposed territory, settlements, roads and towns within it roughly marked and depicted with generous sizes. Outside of the blob was shaded dark, outside his domain and therefore irrelevant, no man's land. Sounes eyes caught her plot of land, a small tumorous pip sticking ever so slightly out from the eastern edge. It sickened her to see it claimed as his own, and had nobody else to blame but herself for it. Her gaze snapped to Kirche beside her, who was scanning the map.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Nearly nobody else, anyway.
“This is Ingram-” King poked at a small town along the northern curve. He folded up the first document he grabbed, forming it into a long, straight rectangle. “And this is a proposed development from Seere.” He placed the folded paper directly over Ingram, it barely poked out from under the paper.
“...A giant warehouse?” Soune asked, trying to make sense of the analogy.
“A big-ol town?” Kirche followed.
“A road, a large one, a connection between Priloca and the western transport network, eight lanes and four rails. The first one since the Scourings, and upon this road-” He tapped the depiction of Ingram. “-prime location for a supply depot, already connected to infrastructure, naturally guarded by the hills, it’s perfect. Almost perfect.”
“...Okay?” Soune asked, not enjoying whatever tale or riddle Simon was spinning. Kirche was uncharacteristically quiet, flicking her study between the map and the man.
“Almost perfect because, if you’ll recall Mr. Reyar’s earlier conversation, something in Ingram is proving development difficult, and this is proving difficult for me.” He leaned back again, staring at the ceiling in contemplation.
“I’m between a rock and a hard place. Ingram belongs to me, and since the plans for the development have been announced, I’ve received purchase offers from a multitude of companies. Chief amongst which is Seere themselves. Am-Ray Holdings has also made a considerable offer, not to Seere’s level though. But they won’t finalise while it’s there…”
“Can you get to the point?” Soune asked finally. “I don’t care about whatever real estate politics are going on.” Kirche still remained silent.
“...Fine, I forgot about who I was discussing with, the details don’t matter to you.” He added with an edge, Soune clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Cutting to the chase, I want your group to go and investigate Ingram, establish what this problem is.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Soune murmured.
“What’s the catch?” Kirche demanded, finally speaking up.
“...There’s rumours of what this problem might be, at first I thought it was just the inhabitants proving difficult about the idea of leaving, now it seems a bit more… physical, if Reyar is to be believed.”
“His boogeyman that tried to tear his throat out?”
“Yes, but again, if that’s if he is to be believed. Which frankly, I don’t. But I do not take chances, I do not deal with variables. Which brings me back to you four, particularly you, Ms. Kuvie.”
“And why me specifically?”
“If he’s correct, I don’t need someone to scare away a boogeyman, I need a demon hunter.”
Kirche cracked a smile at that.
“Let’s get to business then, we’ve got the where and why sorted, I have my how and my three who’s, what’s the when?”
“Within the next two weeks, starting today.” King shifted in his seat, not enjoying the power shift in the room.
“Dealer’s choice, always appreciated. I’ll keep you updated on that.” Kirche raised from her seat, stretching her arms over her head with a deep, satisfied sigh. “Cutie at the front will organise the contracts?”
“Ms. Wren will, yes.”
“That’s that then.” Kirche scooped up three-quarters of the coins, eyeballing the amounts by the simple ten pieces, leaving Soune with slightly more than a quarter. “I’ll go give Raz and Tiny the green and good news.” She turned to leave with a hum. “You coming Silver?”
“Go ahead, I’ll catch up.” Soune turned from Kirche to King. “I need a word in private, first.”
“Good luck.” Kirche clapped her shoulder and left in a hurry.
The door closed behind her, and left the two staring at each other. King pointedly looked at his wristwatch.
“...I don’t normally allow meetings to run over time. But that seems to be the norm for today. How can I help you, Ms. Argent?”
“I want to discuss my contract.” As much of a firm, demanding tone as she could mustre. Simon groaned.
“This again… Must we go over this every time?” Despite his complaints, he swivelled to rifle through another cabinet.
“Yep, every time, especially now. By my count, I’m down to a year left.” Soune crossed her arms, trying to disguise the trembling of her hand and bouncing of her leg, halting any signs of anxiety.
“Here we are…” A fat folder was pulled from the cabinet, old, mismatched stationary to the other documents. He rifled through it with a thumb, slamming a page on top of the map. “You are correct, one year until it ends, and we discuss renew-”
“No, no renewal. The summary.” Soune bristled in her seat, listening close to whatever Simon said to catch any tricky language.
“...yes I am aware of it.”
“Read it. Out loud.”
King sighed and shook his head as he brought the paper to his face.
“Upon completion of the five-year period in which Soune Argent is bound to remain within the King’s Territory and work exclusively for the benefit of him and his territory; she will be granted immediate clemency for any owed debts or crimes, receive approval and sponsorship for a Stranger licence and registration to Cheires*, Granted approval for an indefinite pass in and out of the King’s Territory. Argent’s property will additionally be declared independently owned, while receiving the benefits of protection as part of the King’s Territory.”
He dropped the paper down and rolled his eyes.
“Such an ugly, messy contract too, was right to exile that damned lawyer. Five years is a bargain for all of that.”
Soune guffawed and stood, her frustration breaking through self-control at the audacity.
“A bargain? You STOLE all that from me! You put up a cage then made me work for the key! You tricked me into-”
“Ms. Kuvie prompted you to agree to the contract.”
“And who told her to do that? Who paid her to do that, to get close enough to do that, to convince me she cared, convince me it was the right thing!” Soune was roaring now, not allowing the elderly man to shift the blame.
“...I must remind you, Ms. Argent, that you’re still talking to your King. Even if it is for the last year you will do so.” Simon bristled, anger and indignance building in his chest.
“...I was nineteen, you took prime years of my life away. I worked for you, fought for you, killed for you. I was a stupid girl to sign it, but you’re a stupider man to think I’m not leaving the second I’m able to. And I'll be coming back to check you hold true to your side of it too, my land better be the same as I leave it. No selling it to whatever or whoever development, no tents, no exiles, no surprises inside or outside of it, nothing except for how I leave it. It’s MY home. Not your sandbox!”
“ENOUGH!” King slammed his arm into his desk, wood cracked under the impact, the echo reverberating through Soune’s chest. She didn’t realise she’d raised from her seat, didn’t realise she’d been shoving a finger into his space. She released a shaky breath and sat back down.
“...You’d be dead without me. Alone, starving and dying. I brought civilization to you as a neighbour. Food, water, electricity. All from me.” He hissed through gritted teeth, struggling to maintain his composure.
“Only because you took control of them before the companies could swoop in after the scouring.” King bristled, intaking a sharp breath before barking back.
“Would you prefer to be under their thumb? Dancing to their tune?” Steady, cold anger carried through his tone. “I assure you, none of them would be nearly so generous with their deals or forgiving towards transgressions. You’re useful, but you’d still just be a pawn in the games they play. I know your value better than that, at least I thought I did.”
Simon sighed, swivelled his chair away from her then added under his breath.
“Wrong bloody Argent…”
Soune barely heard it, but it was clear enough to cause her chest to drop, like something dreadful and great exploded, then collapsed inwards in an instant, an implosion of glacial pain.
“You’ve got your damned contract, I’ve got my damned year. Leave.”
Soune didn’t hesitate, didn’t bid him a farewell of any kind. Raised, pivoted, and strode out the door in a smooth motion. Only when it was slammed shut behind her did she clutch her chest and lower to the floor, trembling.
“Youch, he did a number on you huh?” Kirche was still there, now crouching over Soune.
“He brought up Ariel. Said I was the wrong Argent.” She muttered, head swamped with a tonnage of thoughts of self doubt, loathing and hatred, all renewed at once, a maelstrom of razor thoughts slashing through her grey matter.
Something soft and understanding flicked across Kirche’s face, quickly stifled by a usual confident smirk. She held her hand out. “Not the wrong Argent to me, let’s get out of here, Soune.”
Soune stiffened and hesitated, Kirche used her name. Unusual enough to give her pause, and her hand stopped halfway to Kirche’s own. Remembering the exchange with King. If Kirche was still here, she was most certainly listening in, she heard, she knew. A flash of scarlet anger dispelled the stifling black storm of thoughts. King built the cage, the chains, the prison. But he didn’t give Soune the key, didn’t whisper in her ear that everything would be alright, wasn’t the one who put their hand over her own as she turned the lock.
The wound hadn’t closed, wouldn't close. Not in these four years. It was raw still, leaking pus and blood as it exposed bone, viscera and heart, it couldn’t close. Not until she was free. But it could be ignored. She could grit her teeth through the pain of it tearing open every time it was acknowledged. A quantum pain, unknowable until observed, but ever present.
Soune took Kirches hand, and forced a smile up at her.
----------------------------------------
*Cheires - A global network run by an unknown source to provide a central support system for Strangers. Features include job postings, rankings and ratings, requests for support and information sharing. Accessible across terminals most commonly located in bars, hostels, town centres. Places where visitors, and subsequently Strangers, are likely to find them.