Of Bone and Ruin

by T. A. White

  “We’re meeting with the concerned parties tomorrow for dinner. You’ll want to report to this address.” Jost nodded at Danny who slid a piece of folded paper over to Tate. She took it and read the address, handing it to Dewdrop for his take on it.

  “Fancy part of town,” Dewdrop said, sounding impressed.

  “Quite,” Jost said. He didn’t sound like he was happy about that.

  Tate took the piece of paper back but still didn’t recognize the address. She couldn’t even pinpoint the part of town it was in.

  “You’ll need to upgrade your wardrobe. Tate, you’ll need to wear a dress. A nice dress. One that you get from one of the seamstresses in the Upper,” Jost said, running over her objections. He tilted his head at Dewdrop. “He can be your manservant. That means he’ll need a uniform of some sort. Also, do something about that mop on his head.”

  “Think again, old man,” Dewdrop snapped. “I’m no one’s servant. We’re partners and no one is going to tell us different.”

  “Not for this. Not tomorrow. These people are on edge and looking for the slightest reason to walk away and start a mini war. We’re not going to give them any reason to refuse to work with us.”

  “Don’t care. They can just deal. I’m not acting like some servant,” Dewdrop said, his lip curling in disdain.

  Jost looked at Tate in an appeal for her to reason with her friend. She shrugged at him. She agreed with Dewdrop. She wouldn’t want to pretend to be subservient when she wasn’t. She wouldn’t tell him to act like one. It would damage the relationship they’d built.

  “When you worked for Lucius, did he have you act in different roles to accomplish your task?” Seeing the answer on Dewdrop’s face, Jost continued, “You took advantage of your mark’s preconceptions to turn the situation to your benefit. This is no different. We are giving them a picture to buy. While Tate is busy drawing their attention, you will be using the built-in invisibility of that position to gather information and keep abreast of the situation in a way neither Tate nor I will be capable of.”

  Dewdrop looked intrigued by Jost’s explanation. Tate was even a little enthralled. It sounded a lot more interesting than what he planned to have her doing.

  “Like a spy?” Dewdrop asked.

  Night lifted his head, his ears swiveling forward. Dewdrop wasn’t the only one interested in the answer.

  Jost paused, his eyes assessing. This was the captain Tate was used to. The one who could read a person and manipulate them to the outcome he desired. She still wasn’t sure if she admired him for that ability or hated him for it.

  “Exactly like a spy. You’ll gather information and then report back to Tate or myself on what you found.”

  Tate shifted, not sure how she felt about Jost turning her teenage friend into a spy. Not that she had any choice in the matter. Dewdrop had made it clear from the beginning that he made his own decisions. Trying to tell him to sit this out would be impossible and only give her a mammoth headache.

  She sighed. It couldn’t be much more dangerous than the work he’d been doing for Ryu.

  “Alright,” Dewdrop said. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  Jost’s lips twitched, amused at Dewdrop’s cockiness.

  Dewdrop held his hand out, palm up and curled his fingers in a ‘give me’ gesture. “Come on. Let’s see the money.”

  Danny and Jost stared at him as if he’d just grown another head. Dewdrop rolled his eyes.

  “You don’t think we’re going to pay for the clothes out of our money, do you? The kind of clothes you’re going to want her to wear don’t come cheap. She doesn’t have that kind of money.”

  “What about the purse I gave you?” Jost asked.

  Dewdrop snorted before Tate could answer. “Are you kidding? In Aurelia? That one’s got cubs.” Dewdrop nodded at where Night lounged on the floor. Night yawned, showing his sharp white fangs. “They eat twice their weight in meat. She’s on her last taros. You want us wearing fancy clothes and good uniforms, you pay for them. Otherwise you can be happy with what we show up in.”

  Jost shot Tate a put out look as if he was expecting her to jump in and control her friend. She grinned at him and leaned back in her chair, enjoying the show. She was glad someone else was in the hot seat for once. Dewdrop was like a shark when it came to money, obsessing over every taro, rostry and stari. She was more than willing to let him negotiate the best deal for both of them.

  “You’ve fallen in with a cutthroat money gouger, Tate,” Jost said in a sour voice.

  “I have an eye for talent. I learned from the best.”

  Danny grinned again. Not many dared beard Jost. He had a bit of a reputation for making life difficult for people who crossed him.

  “Here.” Jost plopped a small purse in Dewdrop’s outstretched hand. “Get several outfits for you both. I don’t know how long this debacle is going to last. Best to be prepared.”

  Tate and Dewdrop stood. Night rose as well, performing several stretches that Tate had seen cats around the city do.

  “Tate,” Jost said as she turned to leave. She paused and glanced back at him. He looked at her with a somber expression. “I’m glad to be working with you.”

  Tate hesitated. “It’s good to be part of the team again.”

  And it was. She had missed several members of the crew. This gave her a piece of what she’d lost back. She wasn’t ready to forget everything that had gone before, but it was a step in the right direction.

  Chapter Four

  Night prowled by their sides as they headed for the hill that led back up to the Upper city. This time of the afternoon it would allow them to bypass the rush at the elevators. It wasn’t worth getting caught up in the crush, and walking would be just as fast if more tiring.

  The heat had abated from stifling hot to just uncomfortably warm. Even the breeze off the water didn’t do much more than dry some of the sweat from her body.

  Night walked them to the edge of the hill and then sat, his open mouth giving him the appearance of smiling. His expression of squinted eyes and open mouth was amusing on a creature that normally prided itself on its appearance.

  You go ahead. I’ll head home to check on Pax and Willa. They’re probably running their keeper ragged by now.

  “You just don’t want to make the climb,” Tate said.

  He shut his mouth and gained his feet with a grunt. I’m too old to be gallivanting all over the city with you two during the day. My kind are nocturnal. This is prime sleeping time.

  “I’m pretty sure any time is prime sleeping time for you.” Tate had caught him curled up on her desk last week around three in the morning, dead to the world. She might have never noticed except that his cubs had woken her by trying to climb into her bed because they couldn’t jump high enough to curl up with their dad on the desk.

  It’s a good habit to get into. Night moved away from them in that long-limbed prowling walk that said he was too graceful for his body. You both should try it sometime.

  “We should head to the Cliffside Market,” Dewdrop said as they turned to look up the hill. “It’s a bit of a hike from here, but they have a better selection of ready-made clothes that are nice enough to accomplish what Jost wants. It’s our best bet to have something done in time for tomorrow night.”

  They started walking. Tate eyed the top of the long hill, the road up curving slightly so that it wasn’t just one long steep incline. In this section of the city, the buildings were built to accommodate the hill. As a result, several had staircases behind gates that led to colorful front doors.

  The Hill, as it was called by most, was the line that divided the Upper and the Lower. The buildings were nice but didn’t have the jaw dropping beauty and cold grandeur of the Upper. The middle class chose to reside here, those with not enough rank or money to afford the sky-high costs above the cliffs.

  Tate had gotten used to climbing the long hill during her morning walks to class, but even so, her legs protested as she
made her way up. Dewdrop was quiet at her side as they moved along streets that were growing busier and busier as the evening hours neared.

  They turned west as they crested the hill, walking along the cliffs until they reached the Cliffside Market. Tate had never visited this market, preferring the easy feel of the Little Harbor Market in the Lower. She also preferred their prices. Anything bought in the Upper was sure to come with an outrageous price tag.

  Perched on the edge of the cliffs, the market offered unobstructed, breathtaking views of the harbor and ocean. She could see why the elite up here preferred a place like this to do their shopping.

  The market was set up in two parts, one on exposed rock that spilled down toward the cliff in three tiers. The other was inside the stone hall towering high above the proceedings, giving the impression of air and open space.

  “How do they keep people from falling over the side of the cliff?” Tate asked. She didn’t see any type of wall. It looked dangerous with booths perched right on the brink.

  “They don’t,” Dewdrop said, already turning away from the cliff side of the market. “If you’re stupid enough to fall, then you deserve what you get.”

  Tate raised her eyebrows. “Does anybody ever fall?”

  “All the time. At least one every few months.”

  “And they still have booths that close to the edge?”

  He shrugged, not seeming concerned. “It’s a good spot to be seen by gawkers and the price isn’t as steep as it is inside.”

  Seemed a little extreme to take your life into your hands to make a few sales.

  “We’ll need to find one of the indoor seamstresses. Their stalls are permanent. They’ll have nicer clothes. If we’re lucky, someone didn’t pick up an order, and we’ll be able to get something already made.” Dewdrop nodded to the great arches marking the entrance of the indoor marketplace.

  “Since when are you an expert on women’s fashion?” Tate asked.

  He shot her a smile over his shoulder as he threaded his way through the crowd. “You pick things up when you’ve lived here as long as I have.”

  It also probably helped to know the different sorts of people that visited places like this so you could plan the best spot to pick pocket them.

  The Cliffside Market was very different than the Little Harbor Market. Where the Little Harbor was a patchwork quilt, Cliffside was an elegantly drawn painting. Tate didn’t know if it was because half of it was inside, but it wasn’t nearly as hectic as Little Harbor. Tate didn’t think it was just the time of day either. It just had that kind of feel.

  The shopkeepers up here seemed the type to take their time, giving their undivided attention to their customers as they perused. There were also fewer shops. It was missing the disorganized chaos of the Lower city markets.

  This was a place the powerful and wealthy came to do business and it showed. Even the tables were nicer than anything in the Lower city, each one a careful masterpiece of workmanship.

  Dewdrop led her through the marketplace to a small boutique that was sandwiched between a jewelry shop and a shoe shop.

  Walking in, Tate was amazed how the sound from the outer market immediately disappeared. She looked back to make sure doors hadn’t suddenly closed behind her. The bustle of the market was still visible, nothing separated the inside from the outside.

  Sound dampeners. Had to be.

  Pretty expensive for a place like this, but Tate guessed it made sense. It added to the illusion of privacy and luxury.

  She turned and studied the room, impressed with what she saw. The floor was tiled slate with white fur rugs placed strategically around the room. There were displays of gloves and purses and several seamstress mannequins modeling the colorful clothing.

  “Can I help you?” a woman asked, straightening from where she’d crouched behind a table as she sorted reams of cloth. Her face was set in a questioning expression. Her eyes darted between the two of them, no hint of the dismay about having two people, one with the look of a street urchin, who clearly didn’t belong in such a nice place as this.

  Tate still wore the pants and shirt she’d had on for class. They weren’t bad, not having any holes and being freshly washed, but they weren’t the sort of attire that one wore to a place like this.

  One garment in this place probably cost the same amount as her room in Colton’s Place for three months.

  Dewdrop stepped forward when it was clear Tate had nothing to say for once. She couldn’t. This just wasn’t the sort of place she felt comfortable in. If she opened her mouth she was liable to say something that would insult the nice shopkeeper. She wouldn’t be able to help it. When she got nervous or stressed, weird things popped out of her mouth—most of which were insults or snide remarks. It was a defense mechanism to cover her uncomfortableness.

  “Yes, my friend is looking for a dress to wear for a very important dinner tomorrow.”

  The woman examined Tate, her eyes running up and down her figure. Tate had to fight the urge to fidget.

  “A ready-made dress is less expensive than one that was made custom since it’s usually one that another customer has changed their mind about,” the woman said.

  Dewdrop smiled. “We will probably want a few custom pieces if you can promise delivery in three days as well.”

  “What?” Tate asked. She thought they were just here for the one dress. “No, we don’t.”

  “Yes, we do. It’s unlikely this will be resolved in one night. You’ll probably have to work with them for a week or more. That means several changes of clothing.”

  Tate grimaced. She’d known that, but somehow it hadn’t dawned on her that she would need more than one dress.

  The woman gave Dewdrop an assessing look, having determined that he was the one in charge of this excursion. Tate was relieved. If she’d had to bargain, she probably would have made a mess of things and walked out with the most expensive and hideous outfit in the place. Dewdrop was better with people than she was, at least once he got past that chip on his shoulder. He’d be able to handle this.

  “What’s your budget?” the shopkeeper asked.

  Dewdrop gave her a sharp smile, one that looked odd on his young face. “More than enough to cover this.”

  She gave him a sidelong glance. Coming to a decision she turned to Tate, “I have a changing room in the back where you can disrobe, and I can get your measurements. I’ll bring in a few dresses I think will work for you once I know what size I’ll be working with.”

  She walked to a curtain and held it back, gesturing Tate inside. Dewdrop shoved Tate forward when she hesitated.

  “I’ll be out here,” he told her. “I’ll need to see any dress that fits well enough.”

  “Why do you need to see the dress?”

  He gave her a flat look. “Because I don’t trust you to choose an appropriate one.”

  That was exactly the sort of thing Ryu would have said had he been here.

  “You get more and more like Ryu every day.”

  Dewdrop flashed her a smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You shouldn’t,” Tate grumbled as she followed the shopkeeper.

  The changing room was done in shades of pale blue and yellow. It was a soothing place, designed to set people at ease as the shopkeeper fussed over them.

  The shopkeeper directed her to disrobe and step onto a small elevated circle in the middle of the room. Tate took off her pants and shirt but left her under clothes.

  It felt odd to be on display in nothing but her underwear in front of mirrors designed to show her from every angle.

  The shopkeeper grabbed a measuring tape and directed her to hold her arms straight out from her sides. Tate complied.

  The woman measured one arm and then paused on the arm that had Ilith crawling up it. She jerked when Ilith flicked her tongue out at her, like a lizard tasting the air. The woman’s eyes rose to Tate’s before she looked back at the dragon, currently rolling around on her bac
k, displaying her belly for a rub as if she was a cat.

  Tate waited for the inevitable questions. The ones that Ilith always seemed to garner. She wondered if the lady would refuse to work with her anymore. It was rare, but once in a while, Ilith inspired fear rather than awe. People evidently didn’t like dealing with someone who could turn into a dragon and eat them. Especially when that person was technically above the law and would not be punished for it.

  The woman swallowed and then finished measuring her arm before taking measurements at her bust, waist and hips.

  “You’re lucky that one of my customers is your size and decided she wanted the dress in a different color,” the woman said, stepping away from her and rolling up the tape.

  Tate felt a small spark of respect. The shopkeeper was a professional.

  “I’m sure whatever you have will be fine,” Tate said.

  The woman made a thoughtful sound.

  “What is the dress for? Your friend said it was for a dinner. Do you know who it is with?”

  “No idea. I’m sure the other guests are pretty important. I’m working with a mediator and this is more his thing than mine.”

  Her head jerked back. “You’re a witness?”

  Tate thought about it. “Yes, I think that’s what it’s called.”

  “Then you’re representing the emperor.” Her gaze turned distant.

  “I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Tate started.

  “The dress should be nice enough. You should have come earlier. I would have had enough time to make you something that was more suitable.”

  “I’m sure whatever you have will be fine.”

  The woman’s face said she very much disagreed with that statement. “These other clothes, they’ll be used while executing your duties in the emperor’s name?”

  Tate paused and gave her a frown. “I guess.”

  She didn’t really know. She had a feeling Dewdrop was trying to take advantage of the situation and getting as much as he could.

  To herself, the woman said, “The Laurens girl is about your size. I can take her order and just tweak it a little to suit. That might work.”