Janice Hardy - The Pain Merchants

The Elder stared down at me, looking as solid as the thick columns that supported the entrance-hall balcony behind him. He folded his arms across his broad chest and tapped a single finger against a bicep. Men in robes shouldn’t look that intimidating. That’s what armour was for. “Your name?” he asked.

“Merlaina Oskov.” Tali would give me Mama’s stern face again for lying, but having an Elder know your name was trouble in a box. They paid heed to none but the Luminary, and he paid heed to none but the Duke, just like all of Geveg’s military-appointed leaders. Wasn’t safe to get noticed by any of them.

“Do you know these wards?”

“No, sir.”

The chatty one’s brown eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. “But—”

“I work the sundown to sunup shift at the taproom,” I said quickly. “Don’t see how boys would cross my path at those hours.”

Sinnote pinch-twisted his friend’s arm. “I don’t think that’s her.”

“It is her. She’s even wearing the same dirty clothes.”

“You’re wrong.”

League Elders weren’t fools, much as I needed this one to be.

“What time did you see her?” he asked.

“Three,” the boy said.

“Five,” Sinnote said at the same time. He grimaced and his freckles wiggled.

The Elder’s mouth twitched at the corners, then he reached for my arm. “Come with me.”

I jerked away. If someone was kidnapping apprentices again, getting trapped in a League treatment room was the last thing I needed. “Pardon, but I can’t. I have to get home.”

“Your family will understand. Now come!” The Elder grabbed my forearm mongoose-quick. His eyes popped wide, then narrowed. “You are a Taker.”

“Let me go!” My shout echoed in the domed antechamber. Beaded heads turned and everyone stopped and stared. Green vests shimmered against grey slate and stone as more lingered. A man passing behind the Elder stopped and watched me with an uncertain frown on his face.

“Stop struggling, girl. I’m not going to hurt you.”

But he was. My skin burned where his fingers dug into my arm. Saints, he was strong.

The wards gaped. The crowd stared. No one moved to help. Why would they? I was just some river rat and nobody questioned an Elder, though I’d bet a week’s lunches that if my hair was Baseeri black, someone would have stepped forward.

“I said, let go .” I kicked him in the knee, smearing grime on his white uniform. And he did, sucking in air with a wet hiss.

I ran for the north gate entrance, crossing the rest of the entrance hall and ducking into the side foyer. Apprentices and wards parted as I barrelled into them. Gasps and jingles drowned out the Elder’s raspy orders, but I could guess what they were. Guards, get that girl. Lock her up, poke her, prod her, find out if she’s the abomination they claim.

I shoved my way past a knot of first cords by the exit and slammed open the door. Sunshine felt like freedom, but I wasn’t off League property yet. The north gate glinted ahead. Copper clanged against stone as I burst through.

Heart racing, I slipped into the crowd coming in for healing. They filled the circular limestone courtyard outside, more than I usually saw this early in the morning, but it didn’t look like many were getting inside. Children in velvet played tag between grandmothers in patched cotton. A farmer in muddy overalls hugged a bleeding hand to his chest. Dozens of fishermen, soldiers, merchants and servants mixed together like a beggar’s stew. I elbowed my way through and learned two new swears from one of the soldiers posted at the main bridge.

At the edge of League Circle, bridges and canals fanned out like wheel spokes to the rest of Geveg. Pairs of soldiers stood on every corner, some mast-straight at attention, others leaning against lamp posts. A few pole boats bobbed at the end of the floating docks as Baseeri aristocrats stepped out, their military aides and bodyguards close at their heels. On the left, the lake sparkled as far as you could see, already dotted with fishing boats.

I slowed, trying to avoid being noticed by the closest pair of soldiers. Thankfully, they were bored types and neither looked over. I jumped over a low stone wall and dropped under the nearest bridge, stomping down a pad of water hyacinths as I landed. Cool water splashed up my legs. I hid knee-deep in lake and flowers and tried not to think about crocodiles.

Considering I’d just kicked a League Elder, that wasn’t hard. A croc’ll snap you and spin you down underwater, but a furious Elder might throw Tali out of the League. He might make her repay the healing we’d stolen. He might—

Why weren’t the League guards chasing me?

I stood on tiptoe and tilted my ear towards shore. Footsteps, coughs, the nervous babble that always followed crowds, but no shouts. No thudding boots.

He let me kick him and run?

Slowly, I climbed up the lakewall and hopped back over. Still no guards. Not even a fuss in the crowd, just the usual small groups of twos and threes, scurrying along with their heads down. Maybe the Elder thought he could find me at one of the taprooms. I grinned. He’d find no Melana anywhere. Or was it Meletta? Didn’t matter. She was gone as goose grease.

There might be guards looking for me, but bright green League uniforms were easy to spot. Folks tended to give way when they saw armed men coming.

My stomach rumbled again. A painful rumble that twisted up my guts and said it was way past breakfast. And lunch. And supper. I headed for the docks, but my guts also said I was too late to cut bait.

“The boats are out, Nya. I’ve got nothing for you.”

“Sorry, Nya, I already had some boys wash the docks. Did it for cheap too.”

“If you’d been here earlier I had carts to load, but that’s all done now.”

Every berth foreman had the same answer, though a few looked sorry to turn me away. Especially Barnikoff, who usually found something for me to do. He’d lost three daughters and he liked having me around to tell stories to while he scraped barnacles off the hulls, but there were no boats in dry dock today.

Nor was there any work at the bakery, and the butcher had enough people to yank the feathers off chickens and guineafowl. The glassblower had two girls running sand and didn’t need me. A line of strapping boys my age waited outside the blacksmith, scowling at a girl I knew. Aylin was dancing by a river-rock garden wall outside the show house, a peek at what you’d see inside if you paid the outrageous prices for their food, drink and entertainment. She gleamed, her pale shoulders stark against the deep red and gold of her dress. Yellow beads traced her neckline and glittered at the ends of her short sleeves.

I headed over. With all the officers, aristocrats and merchants that went past her every day to spend their stolen wealth, Aylin knew more gossip than a crew of old women. If anyone had work for me, she’d know about it and I could sure as sugar use a job fast. My pockets were as empty as my belly. Rent had been due yesterday and I could avoid Millie for only so long. Warm nights promised I wouldn’t be cold, but there were other things in the night for a girl sleeping under a bush to worry about. And most of them wore blue uniforms.

I wove through the flow of people coming off the ferry and hopped up on the wall behind Aylin.

“Please tell me you know about some work. I need good news.”

“Hi, Nya.” She tossed her long red hair and waved at a well dressed merchant walking by. He flipped up his brocaded collar and ignored her. “Nah, just the usual stuff. Are all the jobs taken already?”

“I got a late start. Think the canal master is hiring leaf pullers?” Water hyacinths clogged the canals every summer and made it tough for the pole boats to get through. Dangerous work, but it paid well.