by E. S. Maya
As her thoughts spun in circles, her feet marched steadily forward.
Safi’s eyes were anywhere but the enforcers themselves. She watched a pair of tickerbirds clicking their way across the shop rooftops. She noticed a trio of thick-bodied women catching the stares of the street. At the side of the road, a heated argument between two men was coming to a boil.
Her mind was kingdoms away when her chin went banging into something firm and red. She tripped backwards, landing on her bum. Looking up, she found herself staring at a pair of drunken enforcers.
Out the corner of her eye, she noticed Raven slipping behind them. Then the Anderan was gone.
Safi picked herself up and slapped the dust from her thighs. She clapped away the pebbles stuck to her palms. “I’m terribly sorry, sirs,” she said, bowing low enough for her bangs to sweep over her forehead. She hoped the enforcers were too drunk to remember her face, or to remember her at all. At the very least, she hoped Raven had become frightened and failed.
“Watch where yer going next time!” said the blond enforcer, swaying to the left, swaying to the right. There was a thick purple scar over his left eye.
“Aw, let her be,” said the red-haired one, with the thinnest mustache ever seen on a man. “Get on now, girl.” He spun Safi around by her shoulders and slapped her on the rump, sending her sprinting away. When she didn’t stop running, the pair of enforcers burst into gut-wrenching laughter.
Hands on her stinging bottom, Safi wore a scowl all the way back to the alley. Perhaps she wanted to rob the enforcers after all. Under the safety of darkness, she turned around in time to catch Raven bolting in behind her. The girl skidded to a halt, resting her hands on her knees, and began heaving for breath.
Safi threw her arms around Raven and hugged as tight as she could.
“Choking!” Raven blurted out, wriggling under Safi’s arms.
“Sorry.” Safi let go, and Raven breathed deeply. “Well, did you get it? You chickened out, didn’t you!”
Raven clicked her tongue. “Who do you take me for, Blondie?” She brought up her fist. From the bottom dangled a scarlet red purse. On one side, stitched in white, was the emblem of the Blackpoint Mining Company.
Raven held open the pouch as they looked inside.
Safi gasped. It was a whole pile of iron pennies, copper bits, and even a couple of silver sovereigns. “You little pickpocket!” She gave Raven a shove, and a few of the coins went flying. One of the silver sovereigns landed on its side, rolling in a wide arc across the alley floor. When it bumped into Safi’s boot, she bent down to retrieve it.
The silver felt cold and slippery in her fingers. On the tails side, opposite the profile of the late Emperor, was the faded shape of a gryphon. The pair of lumps that used to be wings filled most of the coin’s surface, surrounding the gryphon’s tiny rightward head. Its body bore a vague resemblance to a lion, and below the creature was the old familiar prayer, wrapping the coin’s circumference: In the Name of God, the Father of Stone, the Creator of Worlds.
“It’s real all right,” she said.
“Of course it’s real!” Raven snatched the coin from her hand. “And it’s mine.” Safi frowned as they walked back out to the main road. “Don’t give me that look,” Raven said, pinning the purse under her armpit. “I’m still filling that belly of yours.”
“You’d better be,” Safi said, one hand cradling her tummy, the other her throbbing bottom. “‘Cause I never knew how much stealing could work up an appetite.”
34
Thirty Lonesome Nights
“After you,” Raven said, stepping aside at the barracks doors and presenting an open hand.
“Such manners are becoming of you,” Safi said, raising her chin with a smile as they stepped inside the antechamber.
Nursing their full tummies, Safi and Raven limped their way into the main room. Its broad floor space was pink with sunset, as were the Fivers’ Camp girls, who, having long returned from the chow hall, lounged about the room in their sleeping gowns and shifts.
Safi didn’t mind missing supper. She had eaten herself to sweet sickness, courtesy of the Blackpoint Mining Company. Her stomach ached in a satisfying way. The feeling left her lightheaded.
She softened her footsteps as they slipped past a pack of chattering fifth-years. Noticing the pair, the older girls stilled their tongues and scurried out of the way. They cleared a path to Hannah, who lay leisurely in bed in the nearest bunk to the door. She tucked a curl behind her ear and gave Safi a wicked smile.
Safi tried her best to return something resembling a smile. She kept her feet moving, knowing that once the year was over Hannah would be off to the main camp, and they’d be rid of her for a good long while. Until then, she was determined to keep the peace.
“Stop,” Hannah said.
Safi stopped so quickly that Raven bumped into her backside.
The head girl stretched her arms before propping herself up in bed, thick legs crossed. Raven folded her arms and faced her. Safi did the same.
Hannah stared long and hard at the pair. “Where did you get those dresses and why are you wearing them?”
Safi swallowed. All that sugar must have gone to her head, for she had forgotten their choice of clothing. How unusual it must seem, a pair of first-years missing church and supper, then wandering into the barracks wearing Blackpoint-red dresses.
“We bought ‘em,” Raven said sharply, stepping to place herself between Hannah and Safi. “There ain’t no rules that say first-years can’t wear what we want on Blessing Day. Blondie and I checked.”
Safi blinked in Raven’s direction. Don’t push her, she wanted to say, and cease your talking. Hidden somewhere inside Raven’s dress was the enforcer’s coin purse, not to mention the stolen kitchen knife.
To Safi’s relief, Hannah relaxed back into bed. She propped an elbow up on her pillow and yawned into her fingers. “I was only curious,” she said, smirking at her fellow fifth-years. “Seems like a lousy way to spend a first paycheck to me.”
On cue, the older girls rang with laughter.
“Worry about your own damn money,” Raven said, shouldering aside a fifth-year and storming towards their bunk. It took Safi a moment to scurry after her, much to the fifth-years’ amusement.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to play with fire?” asked Safi, stepping fast beside her.
Raven shrugged. “Never knew her.” She hopped onto their bunk chest and climbed to the top bunk. A moment later, her head peeked over the side. “Don’t look now,” she told Safi, “but I think I see Rebecca crying over there.”
Safi looked. At the long end of the room, Rebecca sat at the edge of her bed, long back sloped like the curved head of a pickaxe. She hadn’t seen the girl so upset. Not since their first night in camp. “You don’t think,” she stammered, “it’s because you didn’t invite her to come with us?”
“You didn’t say nothing either!” Raven’s pale cheeks glowed the color of sunset. “Go and talk to the girl, why don’t you?”
Safi glanced at Rebecca and frowned. “Raven! Don’t make me—” But when she looked up, Raven was gone.
Rebecca’s bunk was surrounded by gaggles of third and fourth-years, who showed little regard for the girl of Resmyr. Safi decided that sneaking up from behind was most favorable. A hand on the shoulder would serve a far better greeting than clumsy and ineffectual words.
But when Safi finally reached her, she found her lips moving all on their own. “Rebecca?” she asked, hand half-raised. “Is everything okay?”
“Safiyas?” Rebecca choked out, turning in bed to face her.
Upon seeing her tear-stained cheeks, Safi knew the situation was worse than she’d first thought. “What’s the matter?” she asked, climbing into bed beside her.
“Oh, Safiyas.” Rebecca brushed aside her bangs and ran her fingertips over her eyelids. Safi scooted closer and put an arm to her lower back. The redhead was hot and shivering. “My money,”
she whispered, covering her face with both hands. “They took all my pay money.”
“What do you mean they took your pay money?” Safi took Rebecca’s wrists gently and set her hands in her lap. “Who took your money?”
Rebecca glanced towards the main door, and Safi felt the room grow warmer. There sat Hannah in bed, wearing the smile of a queen for all of the girls around her. “She’s got spare keys for all the bunk chests,” Rebecca explained, voice shuddering. “She got to mine and Tybel’s, even Pearl’s, and—Safiyas! Where are you…”
Sprinting across the room, Safi dropped to her knees by her bunk chest and came to a sliding halt. She yanked her necklace over her head, then, fumbling with the key, began poking frantically at the lock.
Raven looked down from the top bunk. “What’cha doing down there?”
Safi fit the key into its hole and threw open the bunk chest. She dove through her meager possessions: overalls, work shirts, gloves, her mining helmet, her neckerchiefs, a couple of shabby dresses…
“Gone!” Safi thumped the bunk chest with the bottom of her fist. Above her, Raven said something—what exactly, she wasn’t sure, for she found herself on her feet, and striding towards the main door.
At the sight of Safi’s approach, a silence fell over the fifth-years. The girls at bedside parted the way, as if granting her an audience with royalty. Hannah’s smug, knowing smile told Safi everything. It was the same smile she’d worn on the day they’d arrived in camp.
“Give it back,” Safi said firmly, struggling to keep eye contact with the older girl. She felt acutely aware of how beautiful Hannah was. The roundness of her arms and cheeks, the luster of her hair, the fairness of her skin…
With her forefinger, Hannah traced circles on the surface of her clean white bed sheet. She tipped back her head and yawned, and the fifth-years grinned openly. “And what makes you think I have anything of yours?”
“I know you took my pay money,” Safi said. “I squared it good last night.” Perhaps it was the month spent hard at work, or perhaps she was simply tired of being pushed around, but she could feel the courage growing inside her like a snowball through a winter field. “Just give it back and I won’t tell the matron.” She folded her arms, a boyish sort of pose she had picked up in the Titan mines. “Rebecca’s too.”
Keeping her eyes on Hannah, she noticed a few of the fifth-years sharing uneasy glances. Not even the older girls, she realized, were free from the head girl’s wrath. Then the lot of them looked towards their leader, along with the rest of the girls in the barracks, eager to hear the head girl’s response.
Hannah swung her legs out of bed, bare feet thudding on the hard, wooden floorboards. Safi fought to keep herself still as the fifth-year rose to full height. She flinched, however, when Hannah grabbed her by the front of her dress.
“I knew you’d be a problem the moment I saw your brown skin,” Hannah hissed. Safi winced from the spittle flying from the fifth-years’ lips. “Since when does a rookie tell me what to do?”
Safi clung to Hannah’s arms and tried to pull them apart. But her strength in the barracks was nothing like it was in the Titan mines. “I really will the matron,” she squeaked.
Hannah looked about the room and gasped. “She laid her hands on me!” she said, tossing Safi face down on the floor. “You all saw it! The Abed laid her hands on me!”
Safi landed on her knees and elbows, crying out in pain. She attempted to stand but felt Hannah’s weight pressing onto her shoulders. The head girl flipped her onto her back and mounted a knee on her chest. “You think the matron would believe an Abed over me? You’re a child!” She pressed a painted blue fingernail deep into Safi’s cheek. “And with no proof? All that time in the Titan mines must’ve driven you stone-stupid.”
Safi flexed her chest and arms, to toss aside the older girl. Despite her newfound strength, she hadn’t the power to move her. Now her breaths came in short gasps. “Let me go.”
Hannah leaned forward to pinch and tug at Safi’s nose. She gave it a sharp twist. “Bossy little brat, aren’t you? You Southerlings are a stubborn lot, after all.” Safi began to speak, but a slap across the face stole the words from her lips. “Next words out of that mouth better be an apology, for accusing me of something without proof.”
Eyes aflutter, Safi’s tears landed cold on her hot skin. It took the little air she had left to utter the words, “I’m sorry.”
“That’s better,” said Hannah with a smile, lifting her knee from her chest.
Safi gulped air as she stared up at the older girl. She should have sensed the rising tension weeks ago. Hannah had been waiting for a chance to put her in her place. A female miner threatened the order of the Fivers’ Camp. Girls like Hannah thrived on order.
She looked away and whimpered. Challenging the head girl was indeed a waste of effort. Laying limp underneath her, she wondered where her courage had come from in the first place.
The answer came from the barracks floorboards thumping against her cheek. She craned her neck to find Raven, upside down and sprinting towards them.
Hannah was rising still when Raven tackled her in the stomach. The head girl screamed, and the two of them flew off of Safi, rolling towards the doorway like a pair of scratching cats.
The tumble ended with Raven straddling the fifth-year. “Don’t you apologize to her!” she cried, pinning Hannah’s neck to the floor with crossed forearms.
Hannah scowled and gagged. She began batting her fists against Raven’s head, but the Anderan girl was too close, and with her back against the floor, she hadn’t the leverage to harm her.
Then the fifth-year’s arms went still. Had she given up? No, Safi realized, she’s rethinking her strategy. In one quick motion, Hannah bucked the Anderan off her stomach. She climbed to her feet as Raven cartwheeled across the floorboards.
Safi willed herself to move. For her arms to push off the floor, for her legs to stand firm beneath her. When there came no response, she furrowed her eyebrows. What good were all those push-ups if her body wouldn’t listen when she needed it to?
“You’ll regret that, street rat,” Hannah said, massaging her swollen neck. She dashed forward to deliver a kick to Raven’s hunched form, but the smaller girl rolled herself out of the way.
Raven’s feet caught the ground, setting herself upright in one smooth motion.
The fight took Raven and Hannah to the center of the room. The girls in the barracks watched breathlessly at first. Then they began to holler and cheer. Raven’s tiptoe posture made Hannah look clumsy. The taller girl threw a series of sweeping punches, but Raven moved around her like clouds to a mountaintop.
Hannah leapt forward with a high kick, and Raven dropped into a crouch. She tangled herself in the taller girl’s legs, bringing her slamming to the floor. Raven’s returned her forearms to Hannah’s neck. This time, the head girl hadn’t the strength to fight back.
“Well?” Raven grunted, leaning into her arms. “Do you surrender?”
Hannah spat in Raven’s face, and Safi cringed. Then Hannah looked to her fellow fifth-years and said, “What in the Prophet’s name are you waiting for? Get her off me!”
Safi watched as the many hands of the fifth-year girls descended upon Raven. They took hold of her elbows and wrists and began wrenching her limbs away. Then, as they suspended her by the arms, Hannah staggered to her feet and delivered a knee to Raven’s stomach.
Raven cried out violently, then coughed up a colorful mess all over the barracks floor.
And Hannah would have delivered another, had the barracks doors not burst open. Then the only sounds in the room were those of heels on wood. The matron stormed into the antechamber, followed by a pair of burly enforcers.
The fifth-year girls let Raven go. Collapsing to the floor, she curled up in a ball and groaned.
“In the name of Warden Tiberonius!” the matron cried, barging into the main room. “Never in all my years at Camp Cronus have I seen such… unlad
ylike behavior!” Her eyes snapped to Hannah. “You best start explaining the situation, Hannah Elsebeth!”
Hannah pointed at the floor. “This one attacked me, ma’am,” she said, voice trembling. “Violent little devil, these Serren children are. Having trouble adjusting to Blackpoint, I suppose. You can ask anyone here.” She nodded at one of the fifth-years.
“It’s true, ma’am,” the fussy blonde said, adjusting her wiry eyeglasses. Beside her, the cat-eyed brunette bobbed her head in agreement.
“I’m the one asking the questions!” Matron Gertrude said, and the fifth-years shrank before her. Finally, she settled her attention on Safi. “Pick her up!”
Hannah rushed over and helped Safi up off the floor. As they stood, Hannah leaned into her ear and whispered, “Say anything and I’ll make your life in Camp Cronus a living nightmare.”
Matron Gertrude narrowed her eyes. “I remember you. You’re the half-Abedi girl who signed up for the Titan mines. Yes, I remember you quite well. State your name, young lady.”
Safi glanced nervously at Hannah.
Hannah’s face grew twitching red. “Answer her!”
Safi looked up at the matron. “It’s Safiyas, ma’am.”
“I had hoped you wouldn’t be a troublemaker,” the matron said, wagging a wrinkled finger. “Well, Safiyas, are you a troublemaker?”
Safi stared at her dark feet. It was the sort of question that left few possible answers. And why was she the one being questioned? “No, ma’am.”
“I didn’t think so.” The matron smiled. “Well then, Safiyas, why don’t you tell me who started this little debacle?”
Safi swallowed. She looked towards Raven, who sat shivering and cross-legged on the floor. Raven gave a tiny nod, and Safi clenched her teeth in frustration. Just what in the world is that supposed to mean?
Of one thing Safi was certain. Hannah had too much power, too much trust from the matron and Blackpoint, to be challenged by a pair of first-years.
