I was always in the wrong place at the wrong time. Bad things just happened to me. It was hardly ever my fault, but shit happens, right? For me, it happened to an alarming degree.

Chapter 1 I Save the Day with Dirty Dish Water

Today I was a girl. I'd been a girl for the last week. The days when I was female were easier. Those days my inside matched my outside. The days when I wasn't a female were the hardest. Those days were darker days. I couldn't just stop being a female. I had to really work at pretending to fit in on those days. I always felt like I was just an actor playing the role of a woman on male days.

I braided my hair, plucked my eyebrows, and wore the dresses but I wasn't a girl. On male days, it was difficult because I felt like a cross-dresser. I felt like I was a fraud dressing as a girl. I should be in pants and a shirt. I should have my hair cut short. Those purple boots? Gods, only a girl would be fine wearing pastel purple boots, even if they were flats and not heels. Male days were bad.

On my female days, my good days, I loved my hair, the dresses, those boots were my prized possession. The one thing I allowed myself to splurge on were those boots. They'd been on sale and I'd coveted them instantly. They fit like heaven, and the embossed leather was so soft to the touch. I loved those boots on female days. On male days, I dreaded wearing them. Purple on purple paisley embossed leather boots just wasn't something a guy would take pleasure in wearing, no matter how comfy or soft.

My male side disliked wearing the dresses and braiding my hair. Manly me wanted a compromise. Perhaps cut my hair shorter, but leave it long enough so that my female side could still do fun things with it. Get rid of the skirts, but buy some pants that would compliment both my male and female side. Baggy shirts on male days, blouses on female ones.

I couldn't compromise though. If people had any idea just how weird I actually was, I'd be completely shunned from society. I was odd enough just as a normal girl. I didn't need to complicate matters by letting my male side show. I had to keep up a respectable appearance in order to survive. My own internal conflicts couldn't take priority to survival. We had to eat, have money to afford the rent, to buy essentials. I couldn't afford to lose another job or to lose any of my clients.

The warmth of the water helped with the cramping in my hands. Of course, it didn't help my shoulders or the rest of my body, but since it was my hands that often hurt the most the relief was welcome. Just another odd thing about me, on some days I had the body of an 80-year-old arthritic. It limited my job prospects. My main income came from selling my palm ash soap, but it wasn't enough to keep us financially afloat. I needed this job and I had to ignore the pains in my body to do it.

Pushing a strand of hair out of my eyes I reached for the pot of soap by the sink. These dishes wouldn't wash themselves and it was the beginning of the dinner rush. For a part-time job, washing dishes a few hours a night wasn't bad. It was fairly soothing for me. I could keep to myself and take comfort in the mindless repetitive task.

The waitresses made more money, but socializing wasn't my thing. I disliked being around people. They always made me feel uncomfortable. I was able to recognize that most of that was self-projection. I didn't feel comfortable with myself, so I felt wrong being around other people. Knowing that I was the issue wasn't helpful in overcoming my socialization problems.

Wembly came in carting another stack of dishes. She ran the bar and waitressed during off hours, the owner Mr. Juzz ran the bar when it was busy and cleaned the inn's rooms. He was due to be down soon.

“That looks about full, let me turn it off for you,” she said. Placing the dishes on the counter she reached out and touched the water core then the fire core. Hot water stopped filling the sink. Then she touched the water core above the rinse sink. A slow stream began to pour out of it.

“Thank you,” I told her. I really was thankful, without Wembly's help I would have had to hull water from the well and heat it up by the fire. It saved me a lot of work having Wembly's help. Though I did pay her a couple coppers out of my pay each week as compensation.

“It's really no problem. I'm glad to help out,” she smiled at me and wiped her wet hands on her apron. “ By the way, a group came in celebrating their buddy getting married. They look like they are going to be drinking and eating a lot. So I'd keep up with the small plates and the ale mugs today.”

“Got it, and thanks for the heads up.” I was docked pay if the tavern ran out of clean dishes during my shift.

I pulled a stack of mugs from the counter left from the afternoon and placed them in the sink.

Wembly gave her orders to the elderly man who was hired to cook. Grunck smelled of stale pipe smoke and old sweat. He was always coming in half drunk or hungover, but he still managed to do his job on most days. We ignored each other with the exception of when he needed a certain pot or pan washed.

Today was one of his drunk days. He was banging around the kitchen opening cupboards looking for something. Then he forgot where he'd already looked and opened the same cupboard again. Then he stumbled into the pantry to bang around in there.

I could smell the smoke lingering in the air from a least one burnt pan. I found it left on a counter near the extra stove. I picked it up and inspected it. I'd have to boil the burnt out before I tried washing it. I filled the pan with soapy hot water using one of the mugs in the sink, then put the pan on the stove. The main stove had a fire core, but this one used old fashioned wood.

I opened the door to see if anyone had bothered to fill the stove after it was last used. They had, which was a small miracle. I could tell that Grunck had been the one to fill it. The logs were just tossed inside without any stacking. Not that it mattered much since I wasn't actually planning on cooking anything. I didn't have to worry about controlling the temperature so I didn't have to re-organize the logs.

Taking the matches and using some fire starter, I got the stove running. Good thing was that I could use the hot water from the pot to heat up my sink when the water started to cool. Today was looking better. Things were falling into place neatly.

I looked around for the teapot. Shit, Grunck had forgotten to put it on. Mr. Juzz would want his tea as soon as he came downstairs. We couldn't afford to upset the scatter-witted owner, he'd be making mistakes all night without his pot of dark tea.

I filled the teapot using the clean water coming from the rinse sink. Then I left the teapot on the extra stove to warm up. Good, now I could get back to my actual job.

Submerging my aching hands in the water felt wonderful. I just wanted to leave them there to soak away the pain, but I had a job to do. I quickly washed all the ale mugs, rinsed them in the rinse water basin, and left them on the opposite counter to dry. The large stack of small plates was next. Scraping off any leftover food before I dumped the plates into the water kept the water cleaner longer so I didn't have to stop Wembly for a refill.

Large dinner plates were next. There were fewer of those since most people knew not to engage Gruncks dinner making skills. He was fine with small things like fried pickles or onions, but ask him to cook a steak... no. He did make a decent soup, but he usually started that before he began his day drinking. There were more bowls than dinner plates stacked on the counter for a good reason.

I began my work on those next. They were messier and after I washed them I'd do pots and pans. By the time pots and pans were done the water was usually so scuzzy that I couldn't get anything else clean. I'd have to drain the sink and catch Wembly to start over. This would repeat a few times tonight.

The water was cooling and I took the opportunity to check on my burnt pan and the teapot. The brunt pan was clearing up nicely and the teapot was boiling away. I took it off the stove and moved it to the warmer. Mr. Juzz would be wandering in any minute looking for his tea. I was glad I'd started it.

“Have you seen Grunck?” I nearly jumped out of my skin. Wembly had come up behind me and scared me.

“Oh sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” she apologized.

“No, it's ok. I last saw him going into the pantry. He was looking for something.”

“Probably his stash of drink,” Wembly humphed. “He hasn't even started the order I gave him.” She paused and turned her head to the side. “Do you hear that?”

I listened too. It was faint, but there was a whistling sound.

“What is that?” She asked.

“Don't know,” I answered.

She turned a full circle, but not seeing anything suspicious she shrugged.

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“I need my orders, I'm going to go find that drunkard. Do you need a refill?”

“Not yet,” I shook my head. “I'm just about to start the pans.”

“Won't be many pans if we can't find our cook.” Wembly stormed off and headed towards the door that led to the basement pantry.

I dumped the hot pan with it's boiling water into my sink. Using the handle I moved the pot around a bit. I knew better than to stick my hand into the water right after I'd dumped boiling water into it. I needed to disperse the heat to the entire sink. Then I'd add the rest of the pots.

“Tea?” Mr. Juzz came through the door.

“The pot is on the warmer, sir,” I answered gathering the dirty pots.

“What's that noise?”

“We don't know, sir. Wembly and I can't figure out where it's coming from.”

“Grunck?”

“Wandered off looking for something, sir. Wembly went to fetch him since he hasn't started her order.”

“One of those days, eh?” He got down a tea mug and began to make his tea. “Huh, warmer than usual in here today isn't it?”

“Looks like, sir.” Both stoves were running so the room would heat up since I had been standing there as it warmed up I hadn't really noticed the temperature difference.

“Really now, that is getting annoying what is that noise? Leave off the dishes for a bit Rille, help me look for it.” He placed his tea on the counter to steep and asked me to help in the mysterious whistling hunt.

“Yes, sir.”

I dumped the pots and pans into the water. They needed to soak a bit anyway.

Helping Mr. Juzz look for the whistling was fruitless. We narrowed down the area to near the sink and stove, but couldn't figure out where the sound was coming from.

“Could it be the drain pipe?” I peered down the hole of the rinse sink. Water still trickled in a slow stream from the water core that had been left on.

“Maybe,” Mr. Juzz touched the water core to turn it off and we both listened. The noise was steadily getting louder. Maybe that was it?

“Hum, I think I better...” Mr. Juzz began but was interrupted.

Wembly came running up the stairs from the pantry.

“Rille, who filled that stove?” She screamed at me.

“I think it was Grunck. Why?” I was confused. Why was she so panicked?

“He can't find the fire core to that stove!” She pointed to the main stove. No wonder he wasn't cooking he couldn't get the stove... Oh, Loving Gods. I could feel my face drain. Mr. Juzz was faster than me. He ripped the water core from the mounting on the sink and ran to the stove.

He tried opening the door with his bare hand and burned himself. I grabbed a drying towel and opened it for him. Wembly had run into the dining room and was screaming for everyone to evacuate.

The door was sticking, I couldn't get it open. Grunck came stumbling up the steps.

“Wazzat noise,” he slurred.

“Here,” Mr. Juzz handed me the stone and took to pulling on the door. He managed to pry it open but fell backward on his rear when it gave way. The heat that flared out of the stove hit me, my left arm felt like it was on fire. I wasn't on fire, I double checked to be certain, but I knew I was hurt.

“The core Rille,” Mr. Juzz screamed at me. He pried it from my burnt hand. Shit, was that my hand? Gods above it looked bad.

“Wadda you do now queer?” Grunck swore at me. Then kicked me out of the way.

“It wasn't her you idiot!” Mr. Juzz yelled at him. He held the water core as close as he could to the body of the stove. Water was spraying out but it wasn't going into the stove. He couldn't get his hand close enough because of the heat.

I got up, bracing myself with my good right hand. Pulled a large pot filled with soapy water out of the sink. Then I turned and threw the water, pot and all, at the belly of the stove.

WHOOSH!

Steam came pouring out. Mr. Juzz fell back again and ducked covering his head. Grunck fell into the counter and went up and over it to the other side. There was the sound of metal squealing, then a shattering noise.

No time, I grabbed another pot from the sink and threw more water at the stove.

There was more steam but less than before. The whistling sound was subsiding. Understanding what I was doing Mr. Juzz put the water core in the sink and left it on. Grabbing another pot he bailed water out of the sink and began to douse the stove with me.

“Gods above Rille, you may have saved us all.” He worked beside me dumping water on the stove. The floor was a mess of hot water and burnt ashes.

When he deemed it cool enough Mr. Juzz took a long set of tongs and began to sift through what was left of the stove. I didn't bother watching. I fished the still running water core out of the sink and held it in my burnt hand.

It felt so good. Cool water running over the burn, but my entire arm was burnt. I lifted the water core above my head and let the water play down my arm. My clothes had protected most of my body. My exposed lower arm and a small portion above my elbow were red with heat. My neck and face felt tender, but I didn't think they were as bad as my arm.

“Gods above,” Mr. Juzz had fished out the fire core from the remains of the stove. Using the tongs he dropped it into the partially full sink. It sizzled and fizzed, but nothing more happened. I looked into the sink We'd thrown most of the scuzzy water at the stove and the water core had been refilling the sink as we worked. The water was cloudy, but I could see the large fissure in the fire core that sat at the bottom. We'd been so close. If it had shattered we'd all be dead.

“Shit Rille, your hurt.” Mr. Juzz didn't touch me, but he looked at my arm. Still dripping with the flowing water core in my hand. “Hold on.” He left and in a second he had a towel. He used the water dripping from my elbow to wet the towel. Then he placed it on my neck and dabbed a corner against my face.

“Is it bad,” fear of the unknown had my gut clenching.

“Not as bad as your arm, I don't think it will scar. We need to get you to a healer though. Don't worry about the cost. I'll cover it. It's the least I can do since you saved us and my inn.”

“I started the fire,” I confessed.

“You did?” Mr. Juzz asked confused.

“I didn't know that he left the fire core in there. I looked to see he'd stacked wood but I didn't know it was there.” I wasn't thinking, blaming myself in the aftermath of the panic seemed reasonable.

“No Rille, you don't even have magic. None of this is on you. It's my fault for allowing that idiot to keep his job even though I knew he was a drunk.”

“You're both wrong,” Wembly peeked around the corner from the dining room. Determining that all was safe she walked in. “It's that blasted fools fault. He told me in the pantry that he lost the core after trying to light the stove. The stove wouldn't light so he wanted to add the fire core to make it work. He was looking for where he'd placed the core so he could do exactly that.” She waved at the burnt and broken stove. “He didn't realize that he'd already put the core inside.”

“That's insane,” I whispered. Everyone knew that a fire core couldn't be around other sources of heat. It had to be the only source. Putting a fire core in a wood oven was asking for a core explosion. It was only a level two fire core, thank the gods, but the damage would have killed us and taken out the entire kitchen.

“I see,” Mr. Juzz muttered looking over the counter where Grunck had passed out on the floor.

“The guard are probably on their way,” Wembly told him.

“Good, there isn't anything I will be able to do to save him,” Mr. Juzz muttered.

“You're too kindhearted,” Wembly took out a mop from a closet and began to push the water towards the drain in the floor under the sink. “She needs to get to a healer. We'll deal with this mess and the guard. Tell them to charge the inn for all your expenses, Rille.”

Wembly was a very practical sort of person. Mr. Juzz was scatterbrained and didn't really have a head for business. They made a good team. They'd be married in the spring.

“Right, here.” He reached into his pocket and handed me a silver coin. “That should be enough to cover your living expenses until you're healed up enough to get back to work.”

“I'm not fired?” It wouldn't be the first time I'd been fired for something not my fault.

“Of course not,” Wembly huffed. She was just a waitress, but everyone knew she was the one really running the place.

“Right, we will probably have to close for a few days to get this cleaned up, hire a new cook, and order a new stove. Take that time to...” There was a loud cracking sound and plaster rained down from the ceiling.

We all looked. The wall behind the stove had a giant crack in it.

“Isn't that a load bearing wall?” I asked.

“I don't know,” Mr. Juzz dusted plaster off his shoulders.

“It is,” Wembly sighed. “It's going to take weeks to fix that. Give her another coin Juzz, none of us are going to be working in this kitchen for at least a month.”

Mr. Juzz dutifully handed me a second silver coin. It was the most money I'd had on me since I'd bought my boots.

“Get going, if the guard needs to talk to you I'll send them to the temple. Which one are you going to?

“Selphie or Erasmus I would think,” added Mr. Juzz.

“Erasmus' temple does better with burns. I'll go there. Thank you.” I nodded my head at them both.

“Don't worry about us here, you just stay home and heal.” Wembly waved me off.

I passed the guards going out the door. One of them tried to stop me but seeing my arm let me pass. He did make sure that he knew where I was going and where I lived just in case he needed to question me.

I made my way several blocks to the coast near where the docks were. Erasmus' Temple had an ocean front view. Lucky for me I didn't have to wait behind a line of dockmen hoping to get their Mushroom Rot cured.