Dark Secrets

by Shona Husk

  My brother was following in those footsteps. I’d always longed to do something else. Maybe that was why I’d rushed off to join the Arcane Union as soon as I could. Many joined younger, but my talent hadn’t shown up until my voice had broken and I changed from a boy to a man. I straightened my coat and wished I’d listened to my parents. Like most folk they didn’t trust the Arcane Union much. I think they’d have preferred me to keep quiet. I placed my hand over the healed brand burned on my chest. It was too late for some things.

  Right now I’d rather be lying in bed feeling sorry for myself, but I figured I was on a short time line before the Lawman caused me more grief—no doubt he’d already taken out his rage at Cog on Anisa. I pushed the thought away before it made me do something unplanned and reckless…instead of my current planned recklessness. I couldn’t help her by rushing in blindly. Assuming she wanted my help, but that was a job for another day.

  When I took the buggy out, the streets were emptying as decent folk went home for dinner and bed. The rest of us were just getting going. Drinkers, fighters, whores, gamblers and thieves. Not every coin was earned honestly and spent wisely. Tonight I didn’t go down the dark end of Brewer Road. I had no interest in liquor or flesh—not that kind of flesh, anyway. I needed something much more dangerous than a loose-skirt looking to up her status.

  I needed the bare-knuckle fighters who marked out rings where Smith Road petered out into dust. The buggy whirred down the road lit by lightning boxes, their evil yellow light a constant reminder of what the Union did to Rogues like me and women like Korene. Some of the lights were broken, a reminder of the last time Union and FAA had clashed. I passed the fancy houses and business dedicated to the Smith. Kept going past the smaller houses and poorer shops that didn’t have the luxury of the Union’s magic lights out front, the noisy blacksmithy now quiet. It had been awhile since I’d ventured to the outer reaches of Reseda at night. I kept an ear out for trouble. My mind was free of liquor in case I had to use magic, but like most men I also carried a couple of primed revolvers. Mine had never seen much action but the weight was comforting. And these men would respect lead more than magic.

  When I saw the kerosene lamps in the distance I knew I was in the right place. The yelling that drifted on the still night air confirmed it. I parked my buggy and walked the last hundred paces. The skin on my back prickled. I’d dressed down but I was still too well clothed. I hoped the dark would hide the quality of my boots.

  There were two rings but their use alternated. Had to allow time for the unconscious body to be dragged out and the blood to be covered with sawdust. To one side a bookmaker wrote down bets and odds. I scanned the sheet that had been hung under a flickering lamp.

  Steel Knuckles vs Iron Mallet.

  Lock Jaw vs Knockout.

  This was where men with a trade got by without crossing to the wrong side of the law. Or those without a trade got by. Some would die without papers and be damned in the afterlife; others would plead for deathbed compassion and call on the Lord of their father to take them. Sometimes the Union Master would grant provisional papers to be burned at the funeral and leave the rest to the Lord.

  I doubted I’d get clemency. Not now. Not in Reseda. For all my fancy clothes, these men were more favored than I.

  I placed a few small bets, lost more than I won, but I didn’t care. Compared to what I’d already spent today, a few tinnies were nothing. I walked around watching and listening. I placed a few more bets and won the coin back. I paid attention to the whispering of people’s minds. To the desperation, the rowdy bravado and the secrets they thought well hidden. Some were here just for the thrill of violence. I avoided them.

  Usually I’d spend much longer assessing new staff and would’ve had Korene with me, but we needed security and we needed it yesterday. A man at the door might have stopped the militia from roughing up my staff, if not the branding. I’d grown complacent, and it had cost us all. Korene would need another man. Someone she could trust with her back when I was gone.

  I made a few enquires about fighters looking for work without mentioning where, just that it was security. They assumed me to be acting on behalf of my master. Once they knew the truth, how many would be interested in standing guard on a lust house?

  Whispers moved around the rings. A few fights broke out around the ring over spilled liquor and lost bets, but generally the crowd was well behaved and here for business. How many of these men had been outside the Decihall this morning?

  There’d be some tired folk come daylight, me amongst them. While I was used to working the night, I wasn’t used to being up all day and was tired. I could feel the edge of my alertness dulling like an overused knife. My head was crowded with other people’s thoughts. How easy it must be to live with only your own concerns and hopes. I lingered near a lamp strung up on a post with more than a slight lean, arms crossed, trying to look like my own kind of trouble.

  At the end of the night, as everything was getting packed away under a sliver of moonlight, three men approached. Immediately alert, I went from tired to awake in a heartbeat. They were either looking for work or looking to steal my coat and buggy.

  One was as tall as me but broader in the shoulder and older. Then there was short and stocky. Another man might have felt threatened by the casual brawn but I could drop them all with a thought and they’d enjoy it. I gave the men a once-over and spent a moment finding the right thoughts to be on the safe side. When none of them attacked, I spoke.

  “I’m looking for a doorman who can use his fists when required.” Fists before a gun. Shooting troublemakers only bought more trouble. Blue Balls tavern was a prime example of how not to run a business, and yet it had been around for years. Cheap and dangerous and frequented by people who couldn’t afford better or didn’t care.

  “Doorman for what?” asked the tall one.

  “Lust house.” It wasn’t like I could hide what the business did.

  One of the shorter ones snorted and walked away. Good. I didn’t want anyone who’d dismiss a woman’s safety so fast. The other two were still interested, Stocky and Tall. They gave me another open stare, as if trying to work out where I fit.

  “What’s the catch?” Stocky tilted his chin. The light caught his nose and highlighted every uneven bump. Ah, this was the victorious Jawbreaker.

  “You work when we work. You answer to me or my partner, a woman.” I wanted to make that clear now, because if I managed to pull off what I was hoping, Korene would be running the lust house before next month. And I’d be dead or as far from Reseda as I could get. “And you don’t get to play for free.” I looked each man in the eye.

  Tall shook his head, a wave of disappointment rolling off him. Really? Just because a woman was a loose-skirt didn’t mean she wanted to bed anyone in her spare time. I didn’t want to bed most of my clients even when they were paying. It would be nice to not have my head filled with others’ desires. Maybe then I could find my own.

  Anisa hovered at the edge of my thoughts. I wouldn’t bring her down to my level, but I could lift myself up.

  Jawbreaker remained. I’d seen him break another man’s ribs earlier. His hands were a mess and his face wasn’t much better. Lords, he was going to scare the clients away.

  “What’s in it for me?” He wanted the job—it was sweating out of his pores, but not with the fraught sense of desperation some had.

  “Steady pay. You got papers?”

  He nodded. “Farmer.”

  He was a long way from any farm, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t selling produce in the market or from a cart.

  “You trade produce?” I needed to know where his focus was going to be.

  “Yeah. Days there, nights here.”

  And asleep on both jobs. Still, what did I expect? He was probably making more coin here than at the market and even then I’d personally make more coin in one night than he did in a ten-night. However, as I had learned today, my overheads could be high and unpredic
table.

  Jawbreaker knew he was losing me. “My son is taking over the cart. There’s not enough there for both of us. I’ve been letting him keep most of the takings. He’s got mouths to feed. I’ve just got the wife.”

  And he wouldn’t be able to keep fighting and winning for many more years. I drew in a breath, caught the scent of blood and sweat. There were no other takers for the job and Jawbreaker, as far as I could tell, was being open about his reasons. He certainly was hiding nothing dark in his mind.

  “Come to the Red Lust House tomorrow morning and we’ll talk further.” With Korene listening for lies.

  His mouth dropped open like I’d punched him on the nose. “On Brewers, in view of the Decihall.”

  It was more like glimpses of the Decihall, but it was as close as a lust house had ever gotten to the center of town.

  “There is only one.” And even if folk couldn’t afford it, they knew about it. Some hated that whores could live such a life, jealous of the coin without understanding what it meant to sell yourself night after night after night. After a while, there wasn’t much left.

  He shook his head in disbelief. “I’ll be there in my best coat, sir.”

  Yeah, coin talked. It didn’t matter that I was a paperless whore as long as I held the purse string and the purse held gold…or had held gold.

  It must have been the hour of the Arcane when I finally drove the buggy home. The sky was black and still. The Hunter would rise with dawn and the day would start again. As I neared the center of town, lightning boxes illuminated my path. In the dark the damage was more obvious. The lack of golden light told of the clash between the FAA and Union a few months back. Glass had rained down on the cobbles, and lightning had snapped through the sky and along the street. In the morning the street had been stained red, bodies hanging from the posts. FAA or Union, all men still bled and died the same.

  With Master Cog’s challenge laid down before all of Reseda, I feared another night of brawling. It didn’t make sense to me. Why not just lower the price of magic? That would win the support of the common folk and take the wind out of the sails of the FAA. There were a few other changes I’d suggest, like switching off the lightning boxes, but that would create a whole other problem—regular folk didn’t know about the resurrected. Those who’d been on the wheel came off broken, like a part of them had been sucked out to power the lights. Most were never rescued and died on the wheel. I shook my head and gave a prayer to the Hunter, feeling lucky for the first time that day. I was alive. That was enough for the moment.

  Around me, Reseda was almost quiet. The stillness echoed inside me. I hadn’t felt so empty and alone for several years. It was nice. I needed to get out at night more often and enjoy the peace. As I neared the Decihall it gleamed in the false light, a welcome sight even for me. The Lords were always watching. Tonight there were no loose-skirts looking for clients. Working around the Decihall was always risky, but after this morning’s round-up, even more so. I didn’t pause in case militia were watching, but I did roll around from Smith Road to Brewer Road very slowly.

  The white house of the Lawman loomed in front of me. The buggy crept forward, barely moving. It didn’t matter what I did. I was drawn to Anisa the same way I’d always been. Some things never changed.

  I closed my eyes for a moment. I knew she was in there, could feel her, and I was willing to bet she hadn’t been seen by any healer. I pressed my lips together. The lightning box out in front of the house flickered. It had never been right since the riot. I glanced up at the window the Lawman’s first wife had fallen from. Some say she was pushed, others that she jumped. Either way I knew that her death still bothered Brixen—not because he loved her, but because it reflected badly on him.

  Me seeing Anisa reflected badly on him too, and he was afraid I’d tell her exactly how well I knew him. If he knew how well, I’d be hanged as soon as he could find a rope. I was going to have to be very careful about how I saw her next time. I had to see her again, since what she said would dictate what I did next. In my mind I imagined she’d be happy to be in my arms again and run far from Reseda with me. A better man would have wished her happiness with her husband, but I’d proven long ago I wasn’t a good man. I wanted to be the husband who made her happy.

  If she’d have me.

  I skipped over that part of the forming plan. The way I saw it, the hardest part would be in getting away without being followed. Brixen wasn’t just going to let Anisa walk away. If we both vanished, he’d hunt us down.

  I looked at my hand resting on the tiller of the buggy. I could make people’s fantasies come alive in their mind so they thought it was real. Could I do the same with their fears? Was that a line I could cross?

  Shadows moved around me. I let the throttle out and took the buggy the short way down Brewer Road. I couldn’t outrun the answer. I knew I’d do whatever was needed to break free of the Lawman and take him down in the process. And I knew how to do it so he’d never look for me or Anisa again.

  All I had to do was see if Anisa was willing to gamble everything on the untried magic of a Rogue Arcane.

  The Lawman’s Wife

  Virtuous, honest and above reproach, like her husband’s heart.

  There was a letter on the kitchen floor that I almost didn’t see. On the front was an H, nothing else, but I knew the handwriting the same way I had six years ago. For a heartbeat I thought I’d fallen asleep and was dreaming, my past blending with my present.

  I scooped up the letter then crept upstairs so I could read the contents in private. In the attic I lit a candle and sat at the table. Wax trickled down the side, and I stared at the paper, desperate to know what Anisa had written, yet unwilling to have it confirm my fear that she hated everything I was. She must know what had happened.

  It would be a fitting end to one of the worst days of my life. I unfolded the paper and smoothed it out; it was blank. I laughed, knowing immediately what she’d done. After her sister had found a poem she was writing to me she’d written them in juice—was she hoping I’d remember? I held the paper to the candle and let the juice darken in the heat. Her words emerged out of the white.

  I’m sorry.

  The candle flickered, dancing behind the paper. Sorry I got branded? Sorry he found the ribbon? Sorry she told him everything? No, I’d be dead if he knew. Did she know the risk she’d taken in writing this? While it might have kept her prying sister away, it wouldn’t fool her husband for half a breath. Or did she simply not care about the danger?

  I did. I would find a way to see her and I’d warn her and tell her of my half-formed plans for us. I moved the paper, searching for more writing. Letters formed.

  Don’t reply.

  I almost crumpled the paper but a final line appeared.

  Don’t Seek me out.

  My heart stuttered.

  Then I looked at the words more closely. The “Don’t” had been added after—it didn’t line up with the other sentences. Seek had a capital S. The longer I stared the more certain I became. She wanted me to find her, but she was afraid. I had a healthy fear of Brixen and I only saw him once a ten-night.

  I carefully folded up the letter and tucked it beneath my pillow. Tomorrow I’d find her, and I’d ask her in person. If she could look me in the eye and tell me to leave her to her fate, I would. I had to. Breaking vows was a serious thing. Not that I’d ever made any to know how that felt. With a sigh I pinched out the candle, lay on the bed and let the darkness envelop me. My dreams were full of those moments that I held close.

  Anisa was in my arms as we danced. The heat of the day had faded as the sun had sunk and colored the sky in shades of gold and pink. Her arms were wrapped around my neck, her body against mine, but we didn’t care who was watching. Our betrothal had been announced at the All Lords Day celebration. She was mine—once I’d finished my apprenticeship. Until then she lived with her parents and I with mine.

  We couldn’t have been happier. We’d drunk a litt
le wine and were laughing as we spun around and around.

  She leaned closer, her lips brushed mine. “Tomorrow?”

  “While they sleep it off?” Our parents were celebrating hard like everyone else. The day had started with a service in the Decihall and had been followed with feasting. After fasting the day before, everyone was making merry.

  Anisa nodded, her eyes bright. We’d talked, we’d whispered and slid our hands beneath clothes, but until today we’d never been bold enough to do more.

  “Why not tonight?” Desire laced my blood until it burned. My hand strayed to her butt and held her even closer.

  “Because they will know if we sneak off. I want it to be our moment.” Her fingers brushed the back of my neck. She was right, of course. But if she’d wanted to wait until we were wed I’d have waited…although that didn’t stop me from craving her touch.

  I rested my forehead against hers. “Tomorrow.”

  * * *

  I got up late—even for me. It was noon before I managed to saunter downstairs as if nothing were amiss. I knew if I did nothing, the chance would slip past, and I couldn’t let that happen. Second chances didn’t walk down the street every day. I wouldn’t leave Anisa again unless she told me to walk away.

  Voices filtered up to me from the kitchen. The mood in the house was different to when I’d left last night. It bubbled and swelled with…curiosity. I paused in the doorway, not sure I’d woken up in the right lust house. Mine should’ve been full of woe and self-pity.

  My staff stopped talking when they saw me.

  Jawbreaker stood. “Morning, sir.”

  True to his word, Jawbreaker was dressed in what must be his best coat. The Farmer Lord’s green, it was well made, with three nice buttons that still matched. But there was no trim or decorative stitching. I’d have to get him something finer to stand on the door.

  “Don’t call me sir. Haidyn is fine.” I helped myself to bread, stewed apples and milk. A breakfast fit for a Lord. Then I glanced around the table, everyone now silent and watching me. I guessed introductions were a little late, and Korene hadn’t kicked him out yet, so that was promising. “Korene, I’ve asked Jawbreaker to keep the door.”