“Madame Cora,” Micah said respectfully, “this is Amos Farr, the Farrow fighter. And his employer Kay, the fetch.” He slid the stacks of coin to his side, making them visible to the woman.
She studied Kay with sharp eyes, then Amos. Then the Straps gathering in the door. Kay turned to follow her eyes. There were more Bosun collecting. One of them was looking out the window, making some sort of sign back over his shoulder, probably a count of the gathering Straps. She looked at Amos and Kay again. All were waiting on the Madame. Finally, she gave a small nod to Micah then said to Kay, “You do us an honor. Will you join me in my office?”
Kay was relieved, but exchanged a look with Amos. She gave a small bow to Madame Cora and said, “I look forward to our talk, the honor is ours, but if there is some clean-up necessary before we speak, we will do our part in it.” She couldn’t start negotiations with the Bosun without carrying her weight in the fight that would be required before the Straps gave up their prey.
Madame Cora gave a slightly deeper nod, then turned back and allowed the curtain to fall in place behind her. Micah rose from the table. “I hope you fight better than you drink,” he muttered as he passed Amos, a small smile on his lips.
“We have much to discuss, friends,” Micah said to the Straps, clustered a few steps inside the front door of the restaurant. “The alley has more space.” He made a gesture to the door. After a hard look from the lead Strap, they turned and walked outside.
Kay and Amos followed Micah. The alley was torchlit, flames bouncing off the tall walls which closed it in. The night had grown dark quickly, heavy clouds above obscuring stars and Fire Eye both. The Straps were clustered at one end, all calmly watching as the Bosun gathered. Kay counted about twenty Straps, uniformly tall and bearing the same haircut. Each had a thick club on his belt, black and fat. It seemed like all their eyes were trained on her as she stood in the middle of the alley, Amos in front and to the side.
The Bosun were still quietly converging. There was soft talking and laughter as the group greeted one another. More than a few rubbed at their eyes, having just been woken up from their sleeping shift. Only Micah stared at the Straps, who all stared back. The Bosun had the numbers, maybe thirty, but the Straps were all massive.
Finally, Micah spoke. As he did, the Bosun turned to face the Straps. Several began stretching, shaking their shoulders, limbering up. “You want these two. But we have offered our protection to them. This puts us at an impasse.”
The lead Strap responded, voice cold. “Just the woman.”
Micah looked back at Kay, dropped a wink the Straps couldn’t see. He turned back. “You are young men, boys really. I’ll give you the chance to walk away from here with your dignity intact. Just one chance mind you. I understand how the young get hard easily. Get confused, wind up chasing their dicks all around the city, thrusting them where they don’t belong. I was young once too.”
The lead Strap removed the club from his belt and pointed it at Micah. “Here’s your chance. Hand us the wetblood, and we’ll let you go back to your game. Keep her gold. Keep the Farrow scum. Don’t learn what it means to square up with the Straps. Don’t be a traitor to your race. Don’t have to watch your place burn down when we take the girl anyway.” The rest of the Straps had their clubs out.
“What looks like more than twenty men, to chase one woman and be turned away like the cunts you are.” Micah wore a thin chain as a belt, which he now slid off and gripped in one hand, letting it dangle alongside his leg. He started twirling it as he talked. Kay saw several other Bosun begin to do the same. The air filled with a whirring sound. Others produced different weapons, blunt and ugly. “Only cunts would hunt a finder of children. Only cunts would wear those stupid fucking straps. You are new, young cunts, and you need to learn. Only cunts roll up on the Bosun. I’ve given you a chance to leave, but I’m glad you cunts didn’t take it. It’s been a long time since we squared off with cunts as soft as you.” Rain started falling. “Look,” Micah said, holding his hands out to catch the thick drops. “The Dynasty weeps for your cunt fate.”
The only response of the lead Strap was to walk towards Micah. The two gangs closed in on one another as the skies truly opened and the rain which had been threatening all day began pouring down.
Chapter 21. The Dynasty Weeping
Micah and the leader of the Straps had the first exchange. The Strap raised his club, but Micah smoothly wrapped the chain around it and somehow spun out into a kick. It took the leader in the face and brought him down. Before Micah could press his advantage, the crowd had reached them and clubs and chains were flying all around.
Kay let some of the eager Bosun stream past her. She advanced slowly, tightening the grip on her baton. She could see Amos pacing her, staying close. The baton was made from smoothed wood, a firm notched grip bolted to a striking piece a little longer than her forearm. She locked it in tight to her arm, the shorter extension jutting out two inches past her closed fist. When the crowds parted and two of the Straps leapt towards her, she put it into action.
Counting on Amos to intercept the Strap to her left, Kay closed quickly with the other large youth. Her experience was that men, especially men with a size advantage, always seemed to expect women to cringe away from them. They were unprepared for her to strike first. She slid forward, putting all her weight behind a thrust that put the baton deep into the point where her enemy’s ribs met. Then she fell back to avoid a counterstrike. Once his body told him what had happened, which always took a moment, he crumpled to the wet ground. Amos had already dealt with his partner in the dance. They exchanged a look and pressed forward.
Kay was able to fell another couple of the Straps, but she lost effectiveness when being jostled from all sides. She was easily the shortest and smallest in the fight and footing was becoming uncertain, rain and blood on the stones. She saw two Straps beating on an outnumbered Bosun. She saw dead eyes looking up from below her, a Strap with his neck twisted to look up at the Fire Eye. Micah fought in front of her, a whir of spinning kicks and chains that completely overwhelmed the Straps. Amos was beside her with a fierce expression and a brutal fighting style to match. Kay could see some of the Straps angling towards him. He stood out in the crowd, his foreign blood they’d been trained to hate. Kay was a wetblood but a woman, no prize in a fight, but to take Amos would be a source of pride among the Straps. They weren’t prepared for him to fight like a broken jar of demonlord, however, using just his fists to fell Strap after Strap. Everyone he put down stayed down. Kay felt an odd swelling of her own pride in who she’d brought to the party.
Kay glanced up to see Micah take down the Straps leader with a high roundhouse kick to the head. Micah’s hair was plastered to his head from the rain, droplets falling off his mustache. He looked around the alley. The fight had devolved to clusters of Bosun kicking at shapes on the ground. “Enough!” he yelled. The Bosun slowed, casual grins on their faces. “Give those who can rise one minute to clear the alley with their injured. Any dead they leave go to the garbage bins. He,” Micah pointed to the leader, out on the ground before him, “joins us inside.” Micah turned back to The Bear and Flower. “One minute!” he called over his shoulder.
As he walked towards the door, he motioned for Kay and Amos to follow him. He gave her a small smile as Kay whirled her baton once and then tucked it away under her cloak. He turned to Amos and said quietly, “I’m guessing you threw that fight the other night.” Amos, breathing heavy, knuckles bloody, nodded.
…
Micah led them behind the curtain at the back of the restaurant. There was a long and narrow hallway, neatly maintained and free of clutter, which led to a small door. Madame Cora’s voice answered Micah’s knock and they entered her office. Madame Cora sat behind a desk, a small vase of flowers at one side. Small lamps were hung from the ceiling. Two chairs faced the desk and Kay and Amos sat. Micah took a chair by the door, leaving it open and half-facing the hallway. It was quiet this far back in the building, the
only sound the rain falling off the gutters.
Madame Cora gave a smile. “The tea is brewing.” She looked at Amos. “Did you favor the house liquor the other night?” When Amos nodded, she produced three glasses and filled them with the clear liquid. Handed one to Amos, then Kay. She raised her glass to them, then took an aggressive swig. “You’ve joined us in a fight,” she said, looking at both of them. “Not much of one, I understand, but now we’ve fought together. I must ask, however, about what brings you to us this night as the Dynasty weeps.”
“I had hoped to learn more about why you are dealing with the Farrow,” Kay said, enjoying the liquor’s burn in the back of her throat.
“And you can’t ask the one sitting next to you?” Madame Cora replied.
“I’m not concerned about what the deal is. I want to know why you have faith that the refugee situation will resolve favorably for the Farrow. I want to know if it is more than just a calculated gamble. Things you wouldn’t have told your friends outside the walls.”
Madame Cora shook her head. “You clutch at straws if you come to us for information about what the Dynasty will decide on the refugee issue. No, you came here for our muscle.”
Kay shrugged. “Tonight, yes. But that isn’t the beginning or end of my interest. Amos was here at my direction two nights ago.”
“We knew Amos before you brought him here. And we know his boss. You get no credit for making that introduction. That you have shown such interest in us is curious, finder of children. You have not walked the Lagoons in some time. I want to learn more about what you seek.” She turned and produced a teapot. She began pouring. “We can discuss what we know, and what we don’t, but first we have business to take care of. You’ve shown decent manners thus far. But you brought trouble to our doorstep. We must speak of enemies. Who is this new one you have introduced us to? They call themselves the Straps?”
Kay nodded slowly. “The short answer is they’re the militant arm of an anti-refugee group called the Red Canopy. The Straps are mostly recruits from wealthy families who would prefer the Gol kept foreigners and mixed-blood at arm’s length. They are young and untested. Their leadership is more problematic. Red Canopy is on the refugee council and they are doing everything they can to influence the Dynasty’s decision. Ordinarily, I’d say the biggest threat is the money they can produce to buy voices in the deliberations. But they’re a little more creative now. There’s a Doctor Banden Milo in the mix, and he’s already taken some drastic actions.”
“Tell me about this doctor.”
“I first heard of him a few years ago. It just started with rumors. There were some high-profile murders of Gol who had married foreigners or mixed-bloods. Not too many people connected the lines, but I started seeing a pattern. Finding young, eloping couples has always been a large part of what I do. I was learning that if the couple included foreign or mixed-blood, there was a chance they’d turn up dead before I could get to them.
“It got so, when I heard about a mixed-blood couple running, I started moving faster. Not that I usually drag my feet, but I’m talking relentless, around the clock, desperate pursuit as soon as I heard they were missing and why. But I wasn’t the only one. I started to see signs that someone else was tracking the same prey, but to a different purpose. He had a better network of informants. Mine thrived in the cracks, the low neighborhoods, drug houses, brothels, lodging houses that catered to people on the run. His were in the high-end inns, getaways for the rich. The places rich kids ran to. He was beating me to them. His informants couldn’t be bought. All I could learn was he called himself a doctor and favored tinted glasses. Once I recognized the pattern, I realized he’d killed at least eight couples. And those were just the kids, the ones I had an eye towards. I don’t know how many older couples he got to. He was selling a story, this idea that horrible things happened to people who strayed from their race. And it was working. Times got a little harder for mixed-bloods. A lot of foreigners were chased out, businesses burned and looted. The doctor was winning at his little game. And then he gave it up.”
“What do you mean gave it up?”
“He left. He went to the Winden. I caught up with a couple he’d kidnapped, left in a burning house to die, just minutes before the place collapsed. Was able to drag the only survivor of an attack by the doctor out of there. He said he heard the doctor tell another man he was going to the Winden. The war with the Farrow was just heating up. I don’t know how and why the doctor cared or had the connections to safely go to the Winden. But people in Celest stopped dying. My job got easier. And over time some of the hatred for wetbloods dried up. When word of the war atrocities made its way east, at least some of the Gol showed an interest in helping. Things got a little better. I stopped thinking about the doctor, until I saw him a few nights ago. And then he sent his men to my office tonight.”
Micah rose to greet a Bosun coming down the hall. The room quieted as he spoke with him in the hall in hushed tones. Kay finished her tea and switched back to the liquor. Amos was looking at the walls, distracted, his knuckles still bloody. Madame Cora openly studied Kay, looking her up and down.
“It fits,” Micah said when he returned. “The one running the gang didn’t take much encouragement to talk. His story matches. They’re the Straps, part of the Red Canopy, and the doctor holds their leash. They were sent to bring in Kay because she foiled a plot to pin the massacre at the Coulet House on the Farrow.” He looked at Kay. “I assume you were just getting to that part.”
Kay inwardly sighed and told the room about the Coulet House. Amos, who hadn’t heard the story yet, thankfully kept his reaction muted, but Kay could see anger in his eyes. He didn’t appreciate being kept in the dark. By the time she finished, they were all holding empty glasses.
“Have I talked enough?” Kay asked, giving Madame Cora a hint of a smile. “I feel like I’ve more than emptied my pockets.”
Madame Cora slowly nodded, looking at Micah. “Fine. It looks like we stand on the same side. We want to see the Farrow inside the walls. We are no charity, but we see where there can be mutual benefit. You’ve asked why we make a risky backing. There’s a simple answer. We are in decline. I should not say this in front of Amos, but our power outside the Lagoons has waned badly, and it takes all our energy to hold on to our power within it. We need allies, badly. The Nymro and Four Aces have joined against us and they are being funded by the Canyon Gee. The Lagoons gangs are too shortsighted to recognize the Canyon Gee seek to destabilize the Lagoons so they can seize them. We have banked on the Dynasty allowing the Farrow in. We will work with Gillis and what other allies we can find to help them establish a presence for Farrow in the Shallows. If that happens to create problems for the Canyon Gee, so be it. You saw Amos fight tonight. His men do not lack for spine. They do not lack for gold. They are hungry for guidance, and we can offer that. We can’t help them everywhere and don’t pretend to. The struggle for a place in Celest will be fierce. But they will need homes, safe harbor, and there is little doubt they will be shuttled to the low neighborhoods. We can help them here. Blood will be spilled. But peace will come, at least some version of it, eventually, if the Dynasty wills.
“Tonight was a demonstration, and we could say thank you for giving us the opportunity, fetch. We saw Amos fight. More importantly, he saw us. He knows that if the Pathfinders square off with the Canyon Gee, or other enemies inside the walls, it is Micah who will stand beside him in the fight. And the other Bosun who soldiered tonight.”
Kay saw Amos and Micah exchange a look. Not quite friendly, but it held respect. She’d hate to see them standing on opposite sides.
Madame Cora asked, “So what do we do to stop the Red Canopy?”
“I think taking a good portion of the Straps out of commission was a promising start. Red Canopy seems to be mostly old men. They’ve got gold, but they’ll struggle for muscle on the short term if they lose the Straps. Probably a good idea to hang on to their leader for a while. He cou
ld be a bargaining chip, or at least a distraction. The next couple days are critical.”
“And you have no insight into which way the Dynasty is leaning?” Madame Cora asked.
“No insight. Only hopes.”
Chapter 22. A Place at the Table
Madame Cora insisted on giving Kay and Amos a small room on the ground floor to sleep. It had two cots in it and a washbowl with two towels. Kay washed her face and lay down on a cot. She feigned sleep, listening to Amos stalk around the room for a few minutes. She could feel all the unanswered questions burning on his lips. She didn’t want to talk to him now though. She was feeling an odd pull within her, a need to get back to her office. To take care of some unfinished business, something that felt too delicate to include Amos in.
She listened as he washed the blood off his knuckles and sat on his cot. Feeling his eyes on her back. Eventually he lay down and his breathing deepened. Once she was sure he was asleep, Kay quietly rolled off her cot.
She threw her cloak over her shoulder and stepped out into the hallway. She opened the door to the alley and stepped outside. Micah was sitting at a table placed in the alley near the door. She could see more Bosun stationed at either end of the alley. The rain was finished but the wet stones glistened in the torchlight.
Micah looked up, took in her cloak. “Do you need an escort, wherever you are headed?”
“No.” She looked at the building behind her, towards Amos. “I’d appreciate it if you let him sleep.”
Micah nodded. “You have our hospitality.” He gestured towards the door she’d just come through. “He fought well for you tonight.”
“As did you.”
He gave a shrug, as if to say it wasn’t quite the same. “Take care, finder. Best not to make those who would protect you work so hard and those who hunt you work so little.”
Kay walked down the alley and turned towards her office. She was partly going on instinct, feeling a small pull in that direction. A summoning. She needed to get back to her office, and now was the time to do so. The Straps would be somewhere licking their wounds, but soon enough they would regroup. And if they couldn’t burn the office, they’d at least keep a watch over it.
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