Twig

by wildbow

  Lillian had two pills with her. Not intended for her, but for Sylvester, in the hopes that she could slip him one, that he could be leashed and that he would choose self preservation over freedom.

  She suspected she knew what his answer would be, and it prompted an ugly feeling in her stomach.

  The bathroom had framed pictures that might have belonged in children’s books on the wall, and more laid into the tiles at the top of the tub, which was a sprawling thing that sank into the wall and floor. Within the tub were multiple seats. Not wholly different from what had been available at the girl’s dorms at Radham. School was all tension and climbing the ladder. The idea was to encourage community and relaxation in the same space.

  This would be the children’s bathroom, then. For the headmaster’s family.

  As she undressed, Lillian’s eye was on the window, opened to let the breeze into the bathroom. It was dark outside, and there wasn’t a single vantage point where someone could perch on a building or stand at a window and see within. Even with that in mind, she couldn’t shake the idea that he was there. Watching.

  Which he probably was, in an abstract sense.

  But they had arranged things by phone, changed from carriage to car and then the first car to another car, all while in tunnels or within garages. They hadn’t stepped outdoors once while within the city. The only people they had been in contact with at this stage were the Mayor, the academy headmasters, and trusted officers of the Academies that were directly subordinate to the headmasters.

  “You want him to be there, looking,” Mary said, as if she was reading Lillian’s mind.

  Lillian flushed.

  “Not like that,” Mary said.

  A bit like that, Lillian admitted to herself.

  “I’m eager for a resolution too,” Mary said. “But I don’t think he’s going to be slippery in the same way Fray was. He’s not going to run. We need to be patient. Keep an eye out. There has to be an angle that works.”

  Lillian nodded. “I know.”

  “I get it,” Mary said. “Trust me.”

  “I know,” Lillian said. She drew in a deep breath, and then let out a shuddering sigh.

  Mary laid a hand over Lillian’s heart. It was still pounding. Mary gave her a pointed look.

  Stepping back and away from Mary’s hand, Lillian pulled off her camisole and remaining clothes, then stepped into one end of the extensive bath.

  Off to the side, Helen was helping Nora disrobe. Under the hood, Nora’s hair was white. Her eyes were dark and red rimmed. Prone to infections and irritation. It was much in the same way that her hair and filaments came out in clumps and her fingernails and claws could come off in a bloody mess if exposed to direct sunlight. She was a sensitive creature, in many ways.

  A sensitive creature who festooned with natural weapons, Lillian noted. She had only had a few opportunities to examine Nora and Lara in person, and that had been on a table, with doctors pointing things out. Too up close a view. Standing aside, observing, she could see the way that the shoulders, ribs, elbows, the spine, and the girl’s fingers were all segmented.

  The ribs, like everything, had pronounced joints at set intervals, joints that strained against skin like a fist clenched to the point that the knuckles had gone white. Where joints would normally already be, they were exaggerated. At the end of most fingers were scythe-like claws, roughly six inches long, normally hidden by the loose fabric of sleeves. Other fingers were actual fingers, and some were a melted-together blend of both blade and digit. Pure chance, what she had ended up with. Lillian knew from the short tutorial with Nora’s creators that there were more blades at the spine and joints of the shoulder and elbow, but they were buried within the joints.

  They were meager natural weapons now, but Nora was expected to grow.

  Helen showed no concern for the blades, both the retracted ones and the existing ones, as she helped Nora into the other end of the bath. Seeing Lillian looking, Helen smiled. “It’s like having a doll.”

  “Just don’t bother her,” Lillian said. “She’s not used to being around anyone but her doctors and her sister, and you can be a little intimidating. If you provoke her fear reflex, I’m the one that has to stitch you back together.”

  “She’s not bothered,” Helen said, confidently.

  “I’m not bothered,” Nora said, quiet.

  Lillian closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall, letting the tension seep out of her muscles. “That’s fine then.”

  Mary took another minute to divest herself of her weapons and lay them out on the counter by the sink. She carried some tidbits over to the window and checked for eavesdroppers and spies before arranging a small trap at the window. That done, she made her way into the bath. She sat perpendicular to Lillian, knees bent so they formed an arch over Lillian’s legs.

  “Where are the headmaster’s children?” Mary asked.

  “That’s bothering you, is it?” Lillian asked. “Why didn’t he say where they went?”

  “He’s hiding something. Multiple somethings,” Mary said.

  “I don’t disagree,” Lillian said. “But that’s standard for Academy higher-ups. We stay focused. I don’t mind being wary, but let’s not get distracted.”

  “You sound like me,” Mary said.

  Lillian splashed her friend. Mary lifted her chin, playing the young lady, unbothered by such things.

  “Um,” Nora said.

  “Message?” Lillian asked, closing her eyes again, leaning back. Mary splashed her, and she wrinkled up her nose in annoyance, before snorting out a bit of the water that had gone up her nose.

  “Message. Duncan’s group is done eating. Do you want to talk?”

  “We can talk,” Lillian said.

  Nora’s lips moved. She used Duncan’s inflection and the same pacing of words that Duncan might use, but it was in a young girl’s voice. “Duncan: he gave us more pets.”

  “Aww!” Helen cooed.

  “Duncan: Not aww. Four lambs and a chicken. I’m trying to figure out if he’s insulting me or if there’s a coded message in this.”

  “Four lambs and a chicken?” Lillian asked. “Could be a message. But I’d say he’s probably just happy you’re bothered and wondering. He likes to tease.”

  “Duncan: I see.”

  “I’d say it’s fifty-fifty odds that he’s either insulting you or he saw a weakness and capitalized on it.”

  “Duncan: He saw a weakness?”

  “You took one pet. Maybe he wanted to see if you’d take more. The chicken thrown in to see if he could burden you further by sticking you with a variety of animals?”

  “Duncan: I’m somehow more insulted than if he’d included the chicken as some kind of indirect put-down.”

  “You didn’t keep the chicken?” Mary asked.

  “Duncan: No. We didn’t keep any of them. But it took some doing to get Abby to let it be. Are you all settled?”

  “Settled,” Lillian said.

  “We’re wet and naked, Duncan,” Helen announced, grinning.

  Mary reached over, as if to hit Helen, then instead put her hands over Nora’s ears. “I’d hit you if I thought it would matter.”

  “It would make me feel better,” Lillian said.

  Mary lightly punched Helen’s shoulder.

  “Thank you,” Lillian said. As Mary lifted her hands off of Nora’s ears, Lillian said, “Are you still there, Duncan?”

  “Duncan?” Mary tried.

  “Speak, Duncan,” Helen said, smiling.

  “Duncan: I’m here. I’m not sure how to respond to that.”

  “The diplomatic thing to do is to pretend it didn’t happen,” Lillian said. “We’re staying with the headmaster of Corinth Crown Academy. It’s near the north end of the fort.”

  “Duncan: I know of him. He’s a bigwig.”

  “Bigwig. Speaking of, I wanted to ask. Double trouble? You mentioned it.”

  “Duncan: I did.”

&
nbsp; “Do I owe anything for shelter? Food? Luxury?”

  “Duncan: Almost never. Gifts received while under someone’s roof, yes, you’d owe a favor for a favor, and you could find yourself under someone’s thumb. But food and shelter are sacrosanct. Dates back to the olden days, when denying a traveler food and shelter could be the same thing as murdering them.”

  “I see. Thank you, Duncan,” Lillian said. Secretly, she mused on the fact that Sylvester had betrayed that sacrosanct thing by burning down the headquarters of local gangs. Or so he’d said, in his note.

  “Duncan: We’re going to be going out soon. Changing clothes, gathering some things, and we’ll see if we can track down any preliminary details. We’ll be in the general radius of Corinth Crown. If we run into trouble or spy them, Lara will let you know.”

  “Perfect. I think we’ll be getting settled,” Lillian said.

  “I’ll be sleeping with my knives on,” Mary said.

  “Duncan: Right.”

  Helen disengaged herself from Nora, who had been sitting at her feet, only the upper half of her head visible over the water, compound eyes wide, hair and hair-like filaments floating around her.

  “The headmaster said something about the major gangs being the Apostle’s men and a drug group led by the Witch,” Mary said. She continued her explanation, but Lillian wasn’t quite listening to the recap. Her focus was on Helen.

  Helen was getting dressed without toweling off.

  Trouble. Question.

  Helen gestured to her ear. Listen. Man.

  Then, barefoot, damp, wearing a dress, Helen scaled the side of the window, climbing out and up toward the roof.

  That was reason enough for Lillian to get out of the bath. Something had concerned Helen.

  “Come on, honey,” she spoke to Nora.

  “Duncan:” Nora said, as Lillian lifted her by the armpits. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Not you, Duncan,” Lillian said. “Helen’s acting curious. One minute.”

  Mary was out of the bath at the same time Nora was. She began putting her things together. Razor wire, knives, gun, syringes, bola, and darts. The summer clothes went on next, and all of the stowed weapons swiftly disappeared beneath the light and airy clothes.

  Lillian did towel off, before donning her hairband and pulling on her clothes from earlier. She’d hoped to go straight to sleepwear, but her things were with her clothes, including those two little pills. Once she was dressed, she attended to Nora. Nora was nervous, Lillian was aware. Jarred from peace and comfort to tension, the little girl was trembling, hugging her arms to her body.

  Lillian dearly wished she could do something more for the little girl.

  She had managed to dress both herself and Nora before Mary was finished. Helen reappeared at the window, swinging down and into the bathroom, very nearly slipping on the wet tile.

  Helen gestured at the same time she spoke, her voice soft.

  “Trouble.”

  “Of what sort?” Mary asked.

  “Sylvester?” Lillian asked.

  “I don’t think so. There’s a man at the front of the house. He has some people with him, and they all have weapons,” Helen said. “They’re here for us.”

  “I see,” Lillian said. “Do we have time to get Lacey?”

  Helen nodded.

  “Window,” Mary said.

  While Helen helped Nora through the window, an exercise that amounted to using three limbs to climb, while one hand kept a tight hold on the girl. Lillian exited the bathroom, careful not to make any noise as she did it. She let herself into Lacey’s room.

  Lacey was reading by candlelight.

  Lillian approached, walking like she’d been taught to do, and clasped her hand over Lacey’s mouth. The woman went utterly still, but for one hand, which went toward the side of the bed.

  “Don’t,” Lillian said. “Be quiet. Come with me. We have to run.”

  “Run?”

  “Hired killers. Or kidnappers,” Lillian whispered.

  Lacey’s eyes widened. She nodded.

  “Bring essentials. The pills.”

  Another nod.

  As she left the bedroom, she could hear some louder voices. She crossed to the other room, accessed her luggage, and found the container with her partial project within. She met Lacey in the hallway, then led the way to the open bathroom window.

  “Hey!” a voice called out, behind her.

  She closed the door and locked it, just in time. Somebody threw themselves violently into the door, making it jump in its frame.

  They would break it down. Probably within a few seconds.

  Men were shouting. Giving orders, telling others to get outside, get around to the side of the building.

  Lacey wasn’t as fast climbing down as Lillian needed her to be. The bathroom window was a solid fifteen feet up off the ground. Lillian double checked, then tossed her project down to Mary, shouting as it was already airborne, “Catch!”

  Then, before Mary had fully recovered from catching the hurled case, Lillian backed away from the window, ran forward, and planted a foot on the sill. She didn’t jump up so much as she jumped over.

  “Catch me!” she shouted.

  A leap of faith. She wasn’t even sure Mary or Helen had the leverage or strength to catch her. Base physics. They tended to be brutal when things moved very fast or got very big, and she was moving fast.

  But, as she flew five or six feet out and fifteen feet down, her face rushing for the ground, she felt arms seize her. She scraped one knee on the ground as momentum carried it forward, but they had caught her upper body.

  She reached out, to put a reassuring hand on Nora’s shoulder and guide the girl as they started to run, but in the gloom, she only barely saw the spikes and bone blades, jutting out. The girl was terrified.

  “Come on, honey,” she said. “Let’s get somewhere safe.”

  Nora nodded.

  Looking back to see Lacey trailing behind, carrying luggage, Lillian saw the men rounding the building.

  They didn’t look like Academy students, so they weren’t the Neddies. They didn’t look young enough to be delinquents, and they weren’t sailors, so they weren’t the skippers. Half of them had the telltale signs of men hopped up on combat drugs.

  The Apostle’s men? The Devil’s? The Witch’s group, looking to make an impact?

  Whoever they were, they were in cahoots with the headmaster, or they had leverage on the man.

  She thought of those missing children of his.

  She couldn’t know. For now, all that was important was getting away.

  Sylvester. The little bastard. She missed him a little less, in this particular moment.

  But this was him. Everything in this city, touched by him. Everything that moved, was moved by him. Her heart still pounded like it did when he was close to her, because he was. He might as well have been next to her.

  Sylvester had gotten what he wanted, and she had a sinking feeling in her gut that this was exactly the outcome he had hoped for. To uproot them, put them on the back foot, and distract them with questions and mysteries. He’d outright told Duncan that he’d trusted them to hold their own if trouble came calling. Now they had been flushed out and exposed. Nowhere certain to go where they could rest and be safe.

  So much for the sanctity of shelter, she thought.

  Previous Next

  Black Sheep—13.3 (Lamb)

  “—making a run for it,” Lara recited.

  Duncan’s arms were folded, and his leg jiggled with the anxiety he was clearly feeling. “Do you want us to help? We’re not really fighters, but if you need a distraction so you can deal with them, I could provide that. Send my dogs in, maybe. I’d rather have you guys than my—”

  Lara interrupted, “Mary: no.”

  Duncan tapped his finger against his arm, thinking.

  Lara spoke into the silence. “Mary: Sylvester’s going to be watching you. He wouldn’t pledge to protect you and t
hen take his eyes off you to see where these hired hands were going. Lillian adds: he might have help.”

  Duncan nodded. “The rabbit. Sylvester’s partner.”

  “Mary: Exactly.”

  Emmett remained silent, listening to the ongoing dialogue. The other Lambs had been attacked. Now the others were running, while a small army of thugs was chasing them down.

  Duncan looked concerned. Abby was hugging Quinton, but she seemed to be okay so long as she was able to do that. Ashton seemed entirely unconcerned, which was reassuring to Emmett.

  Lara, though, was shaking. The distraction of passing on the messages wasn’t enough.

  He knew what that was like. He’d once been in a place where he was one small push from breaking down completely. He had once been fragile.

  He wished he knew what to do for Lara. He didn’t feel fragile anymore, and he didn’t want anyone else to feel that way either.

  “I think we’re on the same page. Do you want us to stay close, just in case?”

  “Mary: not too close. Stay in range so we can talk. But I don’t want you getting caught in this.”

  “Got it. We’re going to do what we can. Get our attention if you need anything.”

  “Lillian: thank you, Duncan.”

  “That’s enough. Thank you, Lara,” Duncan said.

  “Oh. I transcribed the first part of that,” Lara said.

  “That’s fine,” Duncan said. They had stepped into a sectioned off area beside a store, where outdoor fixtures and gardening things had been stowed outdoors for customers to look at, much of it chained to fixtures so it couldn’t be readily stolen. Three stone walls and a gate surrounded the display area, which kept them out of view of any spying eyes.

  Duncan leaned against the wall, between a fountain and a wheelbarrow loaded with Academy-designed plants, his arms still folded. He seemed lost in thought.

  Duncan, Emmett was coming to understand, was very good at what he did. But he wasn’t very good at this. Emmett had spent more time around doctors than he had spent around his parents, and he found himself sorting them into groups. Duncan wasn’t in any of the good groups. Neither was Lillian, as far as he was concerned.