by Hugo Damas
Sarah then let out a prolonged monosyllabic screech, which was really a first for her.
Jordan smirked, shaking his head. “You’re a maniac, Jamie,” he told her in-between mild laughter.
She glared as he ran away. Sulking, Jamie stepped back into the bed. After a minute, a guard showed up accompanied by a woman who looked to have been born to take care of children. She looked like Emery and a thousand others.
“Oh,” Sarah reacted in the realization that she was in the care of the Chancellor. “I am terribly…” she blushed and lightly massaged her legs. “I think that might have been a servant trying to bring me food? I’m terribly sorry. I think I scared him away.”
“Which way did he go?” The guard asked. “I’ll make sure.”
Sarah hesitantly pointed in the direction Jordan had left, and the guard marched off.
“I am so sorry to impose on you,” Sarah apologized to the woman who felt an immediate need to act like a caring mother.
“No, child, you don’t impose at all.” She walked in and slowly closed the door. “You fainted, dear.”
“I fain--” memory seemed to trigger Sarah’s mind. “Lady Amara! She’s hurt!”
“I’m afraid so, dear girl,” said the would be mother.
Sarah whimpered. “Oh no, no! Is she okay?”
“Not as of yet,” the woman replied, sadly.
“But she will be, right? She’s the Lady of Light, she’s Light made into body and--”
“There there.” The woman hugged her tenderly and respectfully, confessing her worries. “I’m sure she will be just fine, don’t you worry.”
Sarah wept for a few seconds, but began to relax in the woman’s embrace.
Then Sarah sniffed. “May I…may I see her?”
“The Chancellor asked you to remain in your room, dear. Until he visits.”
“I’m here,” he called.
They both looked towards the door to find the Chancellor. He was still dressed in his suit, but the tie was off, and the shirt was disheveled, and a bit bloody. He looked very tired.
“Sir,” the woman acknowledged.
“Lord.” Sarah bowed reflexively and nervously.
“Leave us, Mary,” he demanded, not without kindness.
“Yes, sir.”
Mary walked off and closed the door behind her. There was something off about that situation, about the way he was looking at her. His stance, his demeanor and expression.
Every instinct the Street Rat had was converging on only one possible interpretation.
He knew about her.
Chancellor Francis Cronenberg eyed the Street Rat with the kind of look someone has when they’re wrestling with whether to drown a person or set them on fire. Sarah stared back appropriately intimidated, with the kind of look someone has when they’re not really sure of anything other than they don’t really want to drown or be set on fire.
“What’s your name?” He asked
“Sa…Sarah, sir. Sarah Fisch?”
“This is not the time for lies, girl,” he snarled, and she winced in reaction. A few tears crept down her cheeks.
“I don’t…please, Lord Chancellor, I don’t understand what’s going on…”
“Stop it,” Cronenberg demanded, tired.
Sarah’s eyes flickered in confusion. “Stop wha--”
The Chancellor stomped on the ground, suddenly yelling “I SAID STOP IT!”
Sarah shivered and hid behind the covers. “Please, sir, you’re scaring me,” she pleaded.
He gave her a mute response. In all honesty, the Street Rat had never had much respect for the Chancellor. He always seemed like a pawn, either of Amara or of the many entities he had to please to retain his position. Flimsy and with no conviction, emotional to a fault.
I guess this is the emotion, The Street Rat considered.
“She told me you would come, after the attack on your precious borough. To convince her to convince me to go to war with those damn things.”
Sarah looked very confused but no less scared. “Okay,” she said in fear of upsetting him and, finally, Jamie saw it have an effect. A sliver of doubt manifested itself in his stance.
Still, Jamie was feeling stupid. Why else would the Chancellor keep her in his home if not because he knew? The expected behavior would have been to return her home under armed guard. Jamie should have escaped with Jordan. She should have at least gotten from him how long it had been since she passed out.
“She had already decided to convince me. But she likes you, she likes playing this game with you. She said she’d only go ahead if you did a good job.”
It was very rare for Jamie to want to kill someone, but what the Chancellor had just said might as well be the greatest blow to the the Street Rat that Jamie had ever had to contend with.
It had to be a lie. “Hm hm,” Sarah nodded, frightened. “Okay?”
So the Lady of Light had been on to Jamie? She had been playing her all along?
No, this is some…there has to be some explanation.
That the Street Rat had failed to manipulate someone wasn’t the real issue. The real issue was how Jamie had failed to notice the Lady of Light knew all along, and on top of that, had been manipulating the Street Rat.
“Stop it already,” Cronenberg demanded. “We know about you. Honestly, it was stupid of you to think you could manipulate her. She’s the best there is at it, trust me, I would know.”
Sarah fidgeted, still very much afraid, but mostly confused.
“Sir, I’m sorry but…I just don’t know what to say.” Sarah attempted to get out of bed to talk to him more candidly, only to trip over her own feet very clumsily. Her fall was decently violent.
That triggered a crying fit. Sarah was just a girl, involved in something she didn’t understand, scared and confused, and now physically hurt. She whimpered onto the floor as she pushed herself up, talking in-between childish sobs.
“What’s going on? Why is this happening?” Sarah looked up at the Chancellor even though she was already standing. “The Light was supposed to protect her, why would she die?”
Finally, he looked utterly uncertain. Sarah was convincing him that Amara had been wrong.
“And why are you mad at me? I don’t--I know you must be angry, but I had nothing to do with the attack on our Lady, you have to believe me, Sir.”
“If you hadn’t--” Cronenberg coughed and cleared his throat, attempting to rally his confidence. “I mean. If you had not convinced her to speak out against the Beasts, she would not have been attacked.”
“The Beasts?” That was a poorly laid trap. “Do you mean the dark ones? I didn’t…I mean, my father is deeply concerned about them, he thinks they will come and destroy our land soon. I asked her for advice, she’s the Lady of Light, after all. She can stop the dark ones. She can save my father.”
Cronenberg frowned hard and threw his arm to the side, in one commanding movement. “I said we know about you, Scavenger, stop playing this role!”
Sarah’s eyes bubbled in fear and frustration. “What do you mean? I don’t know what that is. Please just let me -- my father must be worried, have you contacted him?”
“I don’t need to, Lord Fisch doesn’t really care about someone who’s not truly his daughter,” the Chancellor pressed further, though his voice was more inquisitive than accusing.
Sarah gasped. “What’s…what’s that supposed to mean?! Am I adopted?”
“What?” Francis shook his head. “No, I--”
“I’m a bastard,” Sarah hiccuped, her nervous system completely in disarray. “Oh my Light, I can’t believe…why would daddy lie to me?”
“No, listen--” Cronenberg lifted his hands, near pleading for the situation to get back under his control. “I mean…what?”
It really was out of his control. They were running on the Street Rat’s script now.
Jamie might have been unable to manipulate the Chancellor into starting a war, but convincing him of
Sarah was another thing altogether. If cowardice or the desire not to get involved played any part in it, it would be in her favor.
Maybe Amara meant someone else. Perhaps, she was wrong about whoever she meant, about Sarah. There was no way Sarah could be faking it.
No one could fake a faint, no one could fake the sort of clumsiness and pure confused fear that Sarah was displaying. Amara was phenomenally skilled, but they were married, he had witnessed her being wrong before. He must have.
An amateur like the Chancellor never expected someone to hold true to their cover for so long. It didn’t make sense to him that someone would blatantly mislead and lie long after they had been caught and called out.
Jamie’s thoughts and plans had taken a distant backseat inside her mind, she knew she would figure out the next step after she was done putting up that show.
The show, so to speak, did proceed as expected, ending with the Chancellor patting Sarah on the head and trying to comfort and calm her down.
He apologized for his behavior and promised her a good meal before sending her back to bed to rest. And then he left to be with Amara. It seemed the Holy Lady had been on the verge of dying. Her wounds were very serious, and she was yet not at all conscious. However, she would survive.
Once he left the room, the Street Rat’s thoughts emerged back again, about as fast as Jamie’s shoulders slumped and her stance relaxed.
It was only a matter of time before Amara convinced her husband that Sarah was not who he thought she was. Again. If she woke up and Jamie was still around, that would certainly mean trouble.
The most important fact was that Amara had already decided to convince the Chancellor against the Beasts. She had already given her speech, and if she were alive, she would keep the man to purpose. In essence, the Street Rat’s work was done.
A knock came from the door again, same as when she first woke up.
“Lady Sarah?” That familiar voiced called.
“Yeah, arright,” Jamie shot back at Jordan. “Sorry ‘bout before and crap, let’s get outta ‘ere.”
The smug look on his face when she opened the door really made her want to punch him.
Or something.
* * *
“How long was I out?” Jamie asked.
“A day,” Jordan replied, “to the hour. Even when you sleep, you keep a schedule.”
Jamie didn’t want to burst his bubble about how accidental that had been. Better to let him believe she had that level of skill. “Yes, well. I need a change.”
“I don’t know where they put your dress, didn’t they leave it for yo--”
Jamie retched. “I don’t give a rat’s poop about the dress, where’d you get the outfit?”
“The outfit?” Jordan asked.
Jamie groaned in impatience and stormed off. He flinched in alarm and skipped his feet to follow her. “Wait, I just, oh, these clothes? This uniform?”
Jamie already had the hair done like a girl, she shouldn’t grab boy’s clothes anyway. Still, she definitely wanted something that was more comfortable and easier to walk about in, and that meant a servant’s uniform.
“You’ve been around, right? Where can we find a better disguise for me?” Jamie repeated.
Jordan nodded, apparently giving up on playing the jokester, if only for a minute. “Right, follow me.”
Jordan went ahead, finally acting like the veteran Scavenger that he was. They had enough space between them that Jamie could be warned to hide from a passerby, and they were walking silently without looking the least bit suspicious, just in case they were seen in passing.
Jordan led her to a closet where the Street Rat was able to change into a girl servant’s dress.
“I’ll uh…stand outside and watch for uh--”
“Whatever.”
Her mind was much too busy to really care about being a prude. Jamie was still wearing her nightdress so he wouldn’t see anything anyway. The Street Rat was thinking whether there was any way the Chancellor would decide against fighting the Dark Ones. Whether she should really just make her escape.
I’m the Street Rat, she reminded herself, undressing the last vestiges of Sarah. As a final touch, she messed up her hair a little bit so she’d seem tired, and put on the kind of face one would expect to see on someone who’s working a few extra hours and is really looking forward to getting home. To accomplished that, she massaged her eyes for a second and smudged her lipstick a bit. Then she grabbed some spectacles off a drawer.
It wasn’t a full make-over but it would do.
“Arright, let’s get out of here for real now,” Jamie said, storming out to join Jordan.
He smiled and motioned her on, as instinctively prone to giving her the lead as she was to taking it, even though he knew the way better.
“Were you successful?” Jordan asked.
That’s a good question. The Street Rat was still not a hundred percent either way. In the end, passing out had turned out for the best, she knew that much. That confrontation with the Chancellor did nothing but help Amara’s case for him to participate in the war if she died. If she lived, then it was guaranteed anyways.
“If the Holy Lady survives, for sure. If not, not for sure. It was her last wish, so old dumb Cronenberg will prob’ly go ahead with it.”
“You’ve gotten pretty confy with half victories recently, huh?” Jordan asked.
A vein popped somewhere in her head, gone unseen. She was not looking his way. “Feelin’ in advantage there, rotten fig?”
“Just pointing it out,” Jordan said, using that unnerving confident tone of his.
“Well, why don’t you point yourself outta my way?” Jamie asked.
“’M loyal to Andy, and he’s loyal to you, for some reason,” Jordan teased again.
“We’re loyal to ourselves first, and so is he,” Jamie said.
“Well, sometimes loyalty to yourself means loyalty to someone else,” he pointed out, suggestively.
The Street Rat glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow. Was he serious? “I wouldn’t know.” Turning her eyes forward, she continued walking.
They passed by a few people, servants and the occasional guest that stuck around to pay their respects or congratulations, depending on the outcome. There were guards everywhere, most of them patrolling, the rest standing guard. They had little revolvers and the vest-based uniforms of the state’s best soldiers.
Nobody paid attention to servants, though, even in that hostile climate. Unless they were heading somewhere they shouldn’t be, they were ignored. And the last thing they were worried about was letting people leave. The killer had, after all, already been caught.
The attacker, Jamie corrected herself. The Holy Lady wasn’t dead.
Jamie felt her head throb. The Holy Lady was a powerful variable of change to take into consideration, and it was giving her a headache thinking about it. If she survived and then learned from the Chancellor that her manipulations had been found out, what would she then do? Would she hunt down Jamie? Would she work against the Scavengers?
No. Amara had no reason to hate them, or the Street Rat, more so when she had been doing the exact same thing. Amara wasn’t one to be an unreasonable ball of ego.
The more important question was the identity of the assassin, and their motivation. Any member of Led by Anarchy would most likely be arrested, or even killed, on sight. Yet the man had walked around the party unbothered.
“Who was the assassin?” Jamie asked aloud.
“Hm?”
Jamie clicked her tongue, really not a fan of having to repeat every question. Especially because she knew Jordan was going it on purpose. “The man who tried to kill the Holy Lady. Who was he?”
“This relevant?” Jordan asked.
“Are ye kiddin’ me? Everythin’s relevant!” Jamie whispered, annoyed.
“Well I’m not your stooge. You know info’s got a price,” Jordan said.
“The world’s in danger, ya half-brain p
ine tree,” Jamie tried.
He snickered. “Pine tree. You have the best insults, Jamie.”
“Who was he?” The Street Rat asked again.
“What’ll you give me?” Jordan asked again.
Jamie rolled her eyes. That was fair enough. “Oh for cryin’ out loud, what do you want? Money?”
“A kiss?” Jordan ventured, smirking.
And look at that, Jamie had lived all her life really convinced she would never want to kill anyone, and in one quick minute, Jordan had changed that. She stopped and turned towards him, looking up at him with trembling fists.
“What’s that? Don’t think I heard ya right, you want me to stab ya in your sleep?” Jamie asked.
“You can’t even walk straight,” Jordan pointed out, smiling down at her without the least bit of fear.
She felt even angrier, Jamie was sure she was disguising her limp. But it was Jordan. Whatever else can be said about him, the boy was a Scavenger. Their attention to detail was at a completely different level.
“What’re you gonna do about it if you’re asleep?” Jamie asked, threateningly.
“It’s kinda hard to sneak up on me, is all. I would hope I could say the same for you,” Jordan replied, crossing his arms in amused interest.
Jamie rolled her eyes and grabbed the sleeve of a passing young man, a boy in his late teens who seemed to be a very bored son of a member of staff. “Excuse me, hey.”
“Huh? Hey, guys, what’s up?” He asked.
“Crazy night, it’s what’s up, can’t believe that happened,” Jamie said, her voice tired and overwhelmed.
“For sure, and here I thought it could never get busier than that ball.”
“Yeah.” She scoffed, “all thanks to that maniac. I never would have expected, who could see it coming?”
“I know, her own cousin? And a bishop of hers to boot.”
“Yeah.” Jamie turned to Jordan with a hidden smirk, “can you believe that?”
Jordan shook his head, covertly eyeing her with desire. “It’s kind of unbelievable,” he replied, talking about her.
“I hope they find out who put him up to it,” Jamie commented, looking back at the boy, “I mean, who the void would have anything to gain by killing the Lady of Light?”
