Dark Secrets

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by Shona Husk

I flinched and almost went to rise. I considered naming him as my lover…but that would be his word against mine and would only enrage him into hanging me. I had to be smarter. I had to use the only skill I had. Magic.

  Ideas tumbled through my mind. I could humiliate him in front of everyone. Make Brixen piss his trousers. But even as I thought it I realized I couldn’t use magic in front of so many people. The Arcane present would know what had happened, and then branding would be the least of my worries. If I was a breath without a body, I couldn’t help Anisa.

  I looked up and glared at Brixen. Even if she no longer loved me, I couldn’t let her suffer.

  Brixen’s lips drew back in a feral grin best suited to mad dogs as he brought the hot metal to my chest. Heat caressed my skin like a lover’s breath before the searing heat struck my flesh. A few seconds of blinding pain—all I could see was white—then it stung like the poisonous bite of a desert skitter.

  I drew in several sharp breaths, glanced down and saw the hand print that marked me as one who traded in flesh. The life I had known was over. The freedom the Lawman had granted us at the Red Lust House was gone. We’d be treated like any other loose-skirts, and he’d pay less and demand more from me. I couldn’t do it. Not anymore, but I didn’t know how to break free of the cage I’d built around myself.

  Around me the Decihall smelled like the meat-sellers had cooked up a feast. I wouldn’t be eating meat for a while. The thought made my stomach heave. I swallowed, unwilling to give the Lawman any sign of my discomfort.

  He dropped the brand. “If those at the top can fall, then those at the bottom should tremble.”

  But those at the top hadn’t fallen yet. I looked at Brixen with eyes that burned with tears of agony I wouldn’t let spill. I didn’t know how I was going to get free but I’d make him suffer before I did. I would free Anisa from his grasp. Even if she would never be mine again, she deserved a better life, a better husband than Brixen. But the look in her eyes when she’d seen me and the way she’d spoken kept a flicker of hope alive, and that was all I needed. The magic may have laid claim to my mind, but my heart was untouched.

  The crowd shifted, and a man in Arcane black stepped forward. He looked at my staff and then me. There was a flicker of recognition. We knew each other from a long time ago. Master Cog was in charge of the Arcane Union in Reseda. It was he who’d rejected me. Not enough magic to be of use to the Union; so weak I could go back into society and be no threat. If it had been stronger they’d have apprenticed me or put me on the wheel, depending on how useful I’d proved. The Arcane Union has more dirty laundry than a lust house. I wondered what Cog would think now and prayed he didn’t know the truth. But his gaze continued on to Brixen without pausing.

  Cog put his hands on his hips, a move that showed both his guns. The gold lightning strikes gleamed in the morning sun. Was he really going to challenge the Lawman over a few whores? No one was that bold or that stupid. Not even the Arcane Union.

  My breathing was forced between my teeth as I tried to get a hold on the pain still scorching through my body, but I didn’t dare move and draw more attention to myself.

  “You call these skirts the top of the lawless pile?” Cog paused, but when Brixen opened his mouth, Cog spoke first. “Reseda is overrun with Rogue Arcane. They have banded together as the Free Arcane Association, yet you spend your time rounding up and branding women and their master?”

  “They broke the law.” Brixen’s words were clipped. He was furious. Cog was raining on his celebration and public personal victory.

  “The Red Lust House has been trading for three and half years without a single gunshot fired. Blue Balls down Brewer’s has a fight every other night. Will you be branding them too?”

  The cold of the cobbles seeped into my knees, but didn’t dull the throbbing in my chest. I didn’t want to be caught in a battle of words between these two because it would lead to violence. Cog was attacking below the belt. He knew Brixen came to my lust house. But had Cog been watching me or the Lawman?

  “All who break the law will be punished accordingly.” There was a dangerous edge in the Lawman’s voice I hadn’t heard before.

  A trickle of cold sweat ran down my spine. I was feeling very exposed and well underdressed. No guns, no shoes, no shirt. I winced at the thought of fabric rubbing against the fresh burn.

  “I want the FAA members hanged before the end of the month.” Cog didn’t add, or I’ll have you replaced. He didn’t need to. The whole of Reseda would know by noon that the Lawman was out for blood. Cog was starting a war that couldn’t be won. Reseda was going to tear itself apart.

  I kept my gaze on the grey cobbles in case I accidently looked up and made eye contact with any of the FAA standing in the crowd, dressed in the colors of another Lord.

  “You’ll get your hanging,” Brixen assured Cog.

  The FAA had pissed the Arcane Union off really badly by acquiring the no-longer-mythical Dead Heart Gun out from under their noses. I knew because they’d celebrated in my lust house. But I also knew what the Union didn’t. The gun was useless, and the FAA was looking for the female creator, who’d vanished into the northern wilds.

  Every Arcane, Rogue or Union, was feeling twitchy.

  Myself included.

  Taking FAA coin was becoming riskier by the day and yet, like the Lawman, if I refused I’d get shafted. I needed a career change. But with the brand fresh on my skin I knew that was a longshot. Maybe my only shot. Plans began to form, wild and dangerous. Would Anisa be willing to listen to me or would she stand by her vows until Brixen killed her?

  Lords, I hoped not.

  The Deputy unbound my wrists, and I forced my hands to unclench. The ribbon I’d given Anisa was still wrapped around my fingers, but I was aware there were nail marks in my palm. That pain was insignificant when compared to the hot, sharp agony in my blood. Voted in by the people, the Deputy was harsh, but generally did things by the law. No doubt he’d stopped Brixen from hanging me from my own roof.

  With the show over, the crowd broke away. No one wanted to be too close to Cog and Brixen—and yet everyone would want to know what was going on. No doubt this morning’s branding would fill the taverns with gossip before the hour was up.

  I risked a glance at Korene. She would have been able to cut through the words to what was truly being said. A talent a little like mine, but she couldn’t affect people’s minds. If she’d been a man, the Union would’ve hired her out to find liars and troublemakers.

  Lawmen usually relied on truth-seekers to determine guilt. I was so well known it hadn’t mattered.

  Cog looked at me again, giving a small nod, then walked into the Decihall. I suspected it was so he didn’t have to turn his back on Brixen. I wouldn’t have either. Brixen was like a razor eel, all slippery with a jaw that could swallow a man’s fist and teeth so sharp that it could sever the limb, bone and all. The only good razor eel is dead and in a pie.

  Brixen spoke to the smithy, who’d had the misfortune of being involved, and paid him. Then the Lawman walked away. The militia followed like trained dogs, but I knew their faces, and they wouldn’t be allowed entrance to my lust house.

  I decided then to hire a gun for security. Until now I’d never felt the need. But it wasn’t for me. It was for the people I’d failed, for the people I’d leave behind. As I got to my feet I knew there was only one way I could make it better.

  * * *

  After walking home—without being accosted—I sat at the kitchen table to wait. I’d sent a boy with a message to the Arcane Union for a healer. It was going to cost me a lot of gold coin, but it was all I could do for my staff. I would have to play along to keep up the ruse, but how long would I have before the brand faded and my skin was unmarked?

  I opened an expensive bottle of wine then drank a few long slugs to clear my head, take away the rawness of the wound. The pain of betrayal and blame fell away. They were close to hating me on one hand yet were glad to work in a safe a
nd well-off lust house. Beneath it all, they hoped I’d know what to do. How had I ended up responsible for these people when I could barely take care of myself? When I’d failed Anisa and was still failing her?

  Korene glanced at me and ushered the staff away to their rooms. Then she sat opposite me, grabbed the bottle and took a drink that was anything but ladylike. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  I stayed silent. That was the only way to avoid a truth-seeker unraveling your words. However, it could also be construed as an admission of guilt. I felt the weight of the ribbon wrapped around my fingers, like a damn noose choking out my life. I let the silk go and placed it on the table between us.

  Korene looked at it. I didn’t need any magic to know she was confused. It was written in the arch of her eyebrow. We’d worked together for too long to truly hide anything. But I tried to avoid her question anyway.

  “I’ve sent for a healer.”

  “Arcane?” She was watching and listening to me very carefully.

  I nodded. An FAA healer would be cheaper, but the Union would be watching. I had to be smart and safe. “My cost.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” she said, but her gaze slid to the ribbon. “Or was it?”

  I let out a breath. Better I tell her now than let it fester between us, which it would. A truth-seeker wouldn’t let a lie go unchallenged, not once he or she could taste it. “I saw Anisa at the markets.”

  “You went to see her,” Korene corrected. She rested her elbows on the table, keeping the cloth of her dress away from the burn.

  “Not consciously.” I took the bottle back and had another drink. The wine was sweet, cloying, too expensive for wallowing in and dulling my magic. Today I didn’t care about saving the good stuff for paying guests. I didn’t care if I never worked again. “Once I’d seen her I couldn’t walk away. I needed to know she was all right. That she no longer thought of me the way I thought of her.”

  Korene sighed, as if knowing what came next.

  “I gave her the ribbon. It was a dumb thing to do.”

  “It’s her blood on the ribbon.”

  I nodded. There was no point in denying it.

  “I don’t want to know.” She ran her fingers through her hair, flinching as her damaged skin pulled. “What are you going to do, Haidyn?”

  “We both know if I stay I’ll swing.” I pressed my hands to my temples like I could stop the swelling of my thoughts in my head. There were too many people in there. “I won’t shut up the house and leave you stranded.”

  Korene laughed, a deep chuckle. She’d saved my ass once down Brewer’s Lane, then realized having a man nearby kept the troublemakers at bay. I’d never asked how she ended up down Brewer’s. Most times it was easier not to know.

  “We were all tossed aside long before you opened the doors.” Her eyes unfocused for a moment. “Here we were safe. You were always fair when you could’ve been a bastard.”

  “Thanks.” Her kindness chaffed.

  “I mean it. You know what it was like on the street.”

  “I’ll work something out.” I couldn’t let them go back to the street. I looked at her, the way fine lines had formed at the corners of her eyes. We’d both gotten older. She’d gotten smarter. “We share another problem.”

  “I know. I might retire and just keep your books. That way no one will see. Maybe in a few years…” She shrugged. None of us had made plans that went beyond the next few months.

  I wasn’t sure I could think past the next few days.

  “Sir, an Arcane healer is here. I hope you got gold to rub together.” The boy looked at me from the doorway. I’d left the kitchen entrance open. No Union Arcane member would walk through the front door in his black.

  I hadn’t put on a shirt and I’m sure I looked as bad as I felt. I got up and pulled out a silver from the cook’s stash. Every step echoed in the raw skin. I hadn’t even cleaned it—the idea of touching the wound with anything still made my stomach turn. The nausea was as bad as the throbbing pain. I could only deal with one at the time, so pain won. The boy’s eyes widened and I knew I’d be moving the coins. A silver was too much for a simple errand, but if I was going to bleed coin today it wasn’t all going to the accursed Arcane Union.

  The boy snatched the coin then nodded. He might prove a useful messenger, and loyalty always cost. I knew he’d be back later to see if there were more jobs.

  I readied myself to greet the healer by having another drink. I needed to dull my pain and my magic before I faced him. Once I would’ve envied him his papers. But he was no different to me—sold to the highest bidder.

  The Arcane healer stood in the doorway, looking at me with something close to pity. “You didn’t start your day well.” He was dressed in black from hat to boot and carried no equipment, like an herbalist or cutter might. But then, he didn’t need any tools. He used magic to heal, and only the rich could afford his services.

  I shrugged and tried to act nonchalant, even though I’d rather be nursing the bottle and forgetting everything. “It could’ve been worse.”

  The healer nodded, his gaze flicking over the fresh burn. For a moment I wondered how much he knew about me. That the Arcane Master had known of me, and had remembered me, had filled me with more than a little dread.

  I needed to get out of Reseda, sooner rather than later, before the Union decided they wanted me after all. With trouble simmering, both sides were recruiting, by which I meant snatching up anyone they could. The only point in my favor was that the FAA didn’t know about me trying out for the Union. At least I hoped they didn’t.

  “So, how do you do this?”

  “You pay first in case you pass out.” The healer didn’t smile.

  I wished he had. Then I might have believed he’d spoken in jest. At least my clients passed out from pleasure, not pain. My day was going downhill like a buggy without brakes.

  “It’s all of us.” If the cost was too great I’d go without.

  “Master Cog thought as much. He named the price. One gold coin for each, plus one for my trouble and one for the Union.”

  Eight gold coins. A good price. Almost cheap. But considering most folk hardly saw a gold coin in a month, much less saved it, it was too much for the average person to afford. Many relied on the FAA or herbalists if they got sick. As it was, paying the Union healer was going to swallow up my savings without stopping to chew.

  I took a breath. Cog had given me a good price. What in the name of the Arcane Lord did Cog want with me?

  I’d rather him strip my coffers than be in his debt, yet I couldn’t argue with the most powerful Union in the whole of Prasine. I’d have to pay a visit to Cog, eventually. Of all the people in Reseda, it was Cog I’d have to put my faith in to make sure my house didn’t crumble.

  “Fine. I’ll get the coin. Korene can you take him to the front room?”

  She nodded and eased up, the usual bounce in her step missing.

  The healer turned to me. “Bring a belt. You’ll need something to bite on.” He was so matter of fact it chilled my blood. In that moment I was glad the Union had turned me away.

  * * *

  In the front room the healer stood like a carrion-bird, black against the multi-colored sofas and walls. There was no emotion on his face that would give away if he liked his job or hated it. Maybe he was like me and tried to turn off when he was working. Separate the people from the job and just get it done. I was really glad I’d knocked down the wine before the healer arrived, because I didn’t want to know what was going on in his mind.

  Noromon and my girls perched on the edges of the sofas, looking pale and tense. Then they saw the belt in my hand and no one would even look at me. I didn’t blame them. I doubted I could face me in the mirror right now.

  I swallowed twice before I found my tongue. “I’ve brought in the healer. Burns…brands—” just call it what it is, “—take a long time to heal, and the risk of infection is high. I am paying. You wil
l get healed.”

  “Don’t want pus on your fancy sheets.” Noromon forced a grin. His shirt hung open, as if he couldn’t bear it touching his skin.

  “Damn straight.”

  No one laughed.

  “Look, it’s going to hurt.” I glanced at the healer. “Tell them, so they know what to expect.”

  “I can’t remove the scar. Well I could, but that would be against the law, but I will heal the wound. While the brand took only seconds to mark you, healing the damage will take longer and hurt just as bad. I’m sorry.” He almost looked contrite for half a heartbeat.

  “So you can either spend the next ten months in the kitchen helping cook for three silvers a ten-night, or bite the belt, get it over with and get on with it.”

  “It’ll stop hurting as soon as you’re done?” Mallo asked the healer.

  “Yes.”

  “Fine.” With her agreement, the others nodded.

  I let out the sigh I’d been holding. I didn’t want to force them into healing, but I didn’t want to lose any of them either.

  “Korene, can you bring the rest of the wine?”

  She slipped out of the room.

  I handed the healer his coin, which he counted and put away.

  Then he looked around. “Who’s first?”

  It had to be me to prove it wasn’t so bad. I kept the belt in my hand. I wish I’d swallowed my damn pride and bitten the leather, though. If it hadn’t been for Noromon and Korene at my side, I wouldn’t have stayed upright. Once the healer laid his hand on my chest, my blood boiled and my skin seemed to stretch and blister. After what felt like all ten hours of night and day, the healer removed his hand from my chest. The pain ended, and my body stopped shaking. I took a breath, eased my grip on the belt.

  What had been a burned, weeping mess of flesh was now a smooth, pale pink scar in the shape of a hand. No matter what I did, as soon as someone saw that mark they’d know I traded in flesh.

  Anisa would know.

  * * *

  As dusk bruised the sky I pulled on an old brown coat. Pale cream stitching encircled the cuffs and trailed up the sleeves like vines reaching for the sun. Brown was the color of my father’s Lord, the Carpenter.

 

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