by J. K. Holt
Tess shrugged, feigning ambivalence, but Emmie read her face. “Because if Dray steals the book and they find out quickly, Tess will be implicated.”
“How?” Ashe said.
“Don’t be thick,” Emmie said. “She’ll have been the last one to show any interest in it. Did you tell her your name, Tess?”
“I didn’t have to,” Tess said. “She knew me already from the Muddy Gull- I even used the connection to get her to help me.”
“Rot,” Ashe said darkly. “Dray?”
Dray was silent for several beats- Tess could imagine him working out all possibly scenarios that might avoid trouble for her, his mind swatting each thought away as soon as it became infeasible. Finally, he met her eyes, his own cool but not without concern. “I’m sorry- I don’t see how it can be helped.”
She saw it then- he’d not even considered the only real option, as it would leave them without the piece of this puzzle he so desperately needed to solve. She both resented him for it and respected the fact that he wasn’t about to lie to her- she knew where he stood.
“Right, we’ll just need to hope it goes unnoticed for at least a month- long enough for us to figure out how to make the most noise with it. By then it won’t matter if they trace it back to Tess, they’ll be outed.” Ashe said, buoying himself back up to normal optimism levels.
“We hope, anyways,” Emmie said, seeming uncertain.
There wasn’t much more to say on the topic, and only one real question left to ask.
“When will you do it?” Tess said. She was testing. This trust had to go both ways.
This time, Dray didn’t hesitate.
∞ ∞ ∞
Tess hated the waiting. The helplessness of it had, at times, threatened to drive her mad over the years. Waiting for the torment of bullies to end, waiting for a father who never came. Though these waits paled in comparison to the last long wait she’d endured- holding out for the bitter end with Maggie.
As a result, she had learned to quiet her mind, to push her own thinking, feeling, core self into a drawer within herself. Go back there, where it’s safe. You can come out again when it’s all over, but it’s no good being here now. The medical doctors who tended to Maggie had whispered among themselves about Tess’s tendency towards dissociation as if she was not in the room, not aware of them as she sat nearby, holding Maggie’s lifeless hand in her own, eyes closed, and far away in her own memories. In them, Maggie was healthy and joyful, bursting with energy as she and Tess had lived their lives, so content in their ignorance of what was to come. She relived the moments like home videos, as if bringing them to her own mind might help transfer them to Maggie’s mind as well, to ease the burden that the last painful months had brought.
But she still heard the doctors. She just didn’t remotely care what they thought about her. They’d tried to talk with Maggie about it, once, but she was too far gone by then to have any ability to hold the conversation. She’d stared past them until they left the room, defeated. And then, once they were gone, she’d turned her head and looked right at Tess, and Tess could’ve sworn she winked. One last joke between them, fooling those doctors. One last laugh.
So Tess could wait. But to do so, she existed in a semi-functioning state, going through the motions of life while, truly, her emotions, reactions, hopes and fears lay dormant within her, until the wait had passed and they could be allowed to return. And it was while in this state of semi-focused consciousness that Tess found herself, as if emerging slightly from a fugue to get a sense of current surrounding, in the middle of a lecture on the medicinal purposes of plants with Gowan.
Gowan was a lover of herbal remedies, and his modest, but not plain, collection of herbs and other dried plants at the front attested to it. They were nestled in tins, lovingly, each carefully displayed with a name card behind the glass- the only thing in this blasted shop that followed an obvious form of categorization. Gowan also had several journals detailing the various uses of each, and it was through the use of these that he was attempting to educate Tess. The front case was the one area that Tess had not yet learned to operate, and Gowan was keen on changing that. At this moment, however, he seemed inclined to forget the whole endeavor.
“Where is your head today?” He grumbled as she failed to correctly identify the purple flower in front of him. “It’s milk thistle- how many times have I told you this?”
“I’m sorry,” Tess said, and she truly was. She wanted to please him and had been attempting to pay attention, but it was proving quite difficult in her current state. “It’s late. Can we do this tomorrow instead?” After Dray’s stolen the blasted thing and I can be fully present.
“I suppose we’ll have to,” Gowan conceded, tucking the flower back into the tin it came from. “You’re useless to me right now.”
“That seems a bit harsh,” Tess said.
Gowan grumbled. “S’pose it might be. But only slightly, in any case.”
Tess hopped down from the stool she’d been perched on. “I am the niece that disappoints. You’ve always said this about me.”
Gowan skewered her with a glance, pushing up his glasses as he took her in. “Did no one ever teach you about respecting your elders?”
“Is that what you are?”
“Oh, go sort something and make yourself useful,” he replied, uninterested in engaging in a volley of words.
“Aye aye, captain.” Tess threw him a mock salute.
“And if you’re so inclined, you can pick up this book in the meantime,” Gowan said, indicating his nearest herbal journal. “So you might be better prepared. We’ll start with calendula next time, of the family Asteraceae. Think you can remember that?”
“Calendula, check.” Tess said, disinterested.
“You might remember it as Mae Boyner’s herb of choice,” Gowan said. Tess stopped mid-step at the mention of the name; something about the way he’d said it hinted that more information was forthcoming.
“I do remember it now, come to think of it.” Tess said, stepping back towards him a few feet. “Any reason you mention her specifically?”
Gowan placed the tins he’d removed lovingly back in the display case before turning to her. He removed his glasses from his nose and squinted as he cleaned them on his shirt. “Come to think of it, she might have made mention of you a couple days past.”
“Where did you see her?” Tess asked before seizing on a possible answer. “Oh, please tell me you’re not dating her. I mean, seeing her… you know, romantically.”
Gowan’s lip curled into a sneer at the idea. “Certainly not. She came into the shop.”
“I never saw her,” Tess said, considering.
“You were out that morning, if I recall,” Gowan said absently, and Tess realized with a start exactly where she had been- at the Spilling Inn, in cahoots with Robin Hood and his merry men while they planned to steal something, maybe not from the rich exactly, but close enough to force the analogy.
“Right. So, she mentioned me?”
“She did, indeed. Came in for her regular medicines but I think it was an excuse to talk about you. You must have made quite the impression,” Gowan said.
Tess winced- that was the last thing she’d wanted to do. She forced herself to keep quiet, allowing Gowan the space to tell the rest.
“She was quite curious, as you might expect the town gossip to be, about why you were so intent on those records you found. She said that something in them in particular seemed to strike you, and that you spent a fair amount of time taking notes and asking for additional records.”
Tess realized that she had stopped breathing. She took a shallow breath, then another deeper one, before asking, “What did you say?”
Ignoring her, Gowan said, “You’ll remember I told you it might do to leave well enough alone.”
Tess was in no mood for a lecture. “What did you say to her, Gowan?”
“The truth, or close enough anyways. That I’d told you to leave it be
but you, being your own person, had other designs. Didn’t see that it mattered much at that point.”
“You didn’t see….you told me to use you as my excuse, don’t you remember? Doing research for the shop?” Tess said, her voice carrying across the empty shop as her anxiety rose.
“I don’t think those were my exact words,” Gowan said. “Anyways, you’d already got what you went for, so I didn’t see the harm.”
Tess was incredulous. She took deep breaths, futilely attempting to slow her heart. It had taken on a mind of its own, beating laboriously within her and threatening to drown out any other sound.
Gowan set his glasses back onto his nose and gave her a stern look. “Child, what have you gotten yourself into? Why are you so concerned about this?”
“I haven’t gotten myself into anything,” Tess said, momentarily forgetting her vow not to lie to him.
“You’re wading into dangerous waters, here,” he said, caution in his tone. Something about his warning, this second time, prompted a realization for Tess that was almost as upsetting as the last had been.
She glared at him. “Why? Why is it dangerous to ask questions like I’ve been asking? unless there’s something to discover. Unless someone is hiding something. Unless things aren’t what they seem.”
Gowan’s nostrils flared, and he took a moment to glance about, as if ensuring they were indeed alone, before replying, his voice low and guttural. “There’s forces at work here that are bigger than you or I. If you try to jump in front of the machinery, you’ll be broken. That’s all that can happen here, child. If I thought that encouraging your friendship with the Reed brothers and their lot would lead to this, I would have forbidden it instead.”
“Forbidden it? Forbidden it?” Tess could not believe the turn this conversation had taken. “You can’t be serious. I’m not a child, and I’m certainly not your child. You can’t forbid me from doing anything.”
Gowan looked as though he immediately regretted the last words that had been spoken, but had no way to take them back. His entire demeanor changed- he stepped back, nearly defeated, and slumped onto the same stool that Tess had been inhabiting moments before. “Listen, girl. Please, listen. I’m not your enemy. I’m anything but. I’m trying to protect you. I don’t know all that’s going on, or even if there is anything going on. I only know this- I don’t trust the monarchy, or the court of commons. I know many are mad about this plague, and many have questions that aren’t being answered, and whenever an anger like that is all directed towards the same place, or the same group of people…well. Sometimes people kick over a hornets’ nest in anger only to find that those hornets really can sting, regardless of whether the nest was deserving of the kick or not. Do you understand?”
Gowan dissipated Tess’s anger as she saw him once again for who he was- a genial man who had given her everything since she’d arrived, and cared for her in his own fierce way. She was immediately sorry for her own outburst. But whether he meant to or not, what he’d done might have immediate consequences that she now had to see to.
She stepped forward, surprising Gowan with a perfunctory hug. “I’m sorry. I know what you’ve done for me. And someday, I hope I can explain this all to you. But I have to go now, it’s important. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She left him in her wake, and found herself a moment later flying once again into the Reed bakery. Ashe and Emmie were busy at the front as several customers vied for the last fresh goods of the day. Tess desperately caught Emmie’s eye, mouthing Dray’s name. Emmie’s glance towards the door gave Tess her answer.
He was already gone.
Chapter Nine
Dusk was falling quickly through the town, tendrils of shadows creeping slowly up the buildings while brushed pink and purple clouds swept across the sky, boastful in their hues as the rest of the land lost its own. Tess hastened down the cloistered streets, dodging carts and villagers in her path, unable to appreciate the smaller wonders around her.
Emmie had been reluctant to part with Dray’s whereabouts but upon realizing the urgency had finally divulged a name that Tess was surprised she recognized. Giles Sundries and Supplies, sought by a desperate Tess so many weeks ago in the hopes of a job, had not been spared another thought by Tess since that day. Now, she struggled to recall its exact location along the boardwalk, so anxious was she of the coming night. She wondered why Emmie would have wanted to protect the information, and a thought came to mind. Perhaps Dray was meeting someone here; a girlfriend? Someone he kept secret, private from the rest. He seemed the type to guard his privacy, so the idea fit, but she wasn’t sure why the idea slowed her step as it did. Nor did she have time to consider it.
A mist was rolling into the town as she reached the docks, rising eerily from the sea and smudging out the further ships from view as though attempting to erase them from the memory of the coast. Tess emerged from the tight alley directly in front of the shack she was seeking- finally, some luck. She scanned the area, settling quickly upon the shape of Dray returning from the outer edge of the pier, his aura illuminating the vapor around him, and he seemed so surreal a figure that the world beautiful crept into her mind; she stared, grateful for the fleeting opportunity to do so unobserved. His head was bowed, his gait steady as he made his way towards her, though he’d not yet spotted her. Strange that something about him made Tess think of a small boy in this instant- she could not pinpoint why. He held a large mass of net in one arm, a fishing spear in the other, and he glanced to his right several times as he walked, though no one was with him, which eased the slight knot in Tess’s stomach. She’d found him in time- now that she knew that, there was no longer any rush.
She started to walk toward him but stopped, realization jolting her body. He was with someone else. A tall man loomed on his right, emerging as the mist gave way, walking slowly, his gait less certain than Dray’s. Tess had not noticed him at first because he was aura-less, his features nearly inscrutable in the dying light, though in studying his silhouette it was clear that he had been blurred; his feet dragged a bit on the wood, his shoulders slumped.
Uncertainty filled Tess, and she now understood Emmie’s reluctance. She thought she could guess who this man was, and it was suddenly painfully clear that she was indeed trespassing on an intimate moment, one that Dray might not quickly forgive her for. All that kept her rooted to this spot was the knowledge that she still needed to speak to Dray, but nor could she push her feet any further.
They covered the distance to her quickly, stopping at the end of the pier while Dray dropped the net onto the dune and hung the fishing spear from a nearby hook. He walked the man to the shanty and opened the door, then stepped forward to embrace him. The man, for his part, returned the hug as one might follow muscle memory- without true intention, his arms lifted slightly and enclosed around Dray, dropping again quickly. Dray stepped back and allowed the man room to move inside, and he then pulled the door closed behind him.
A sudden clarity forced Tess to recall that first trip here, where she’d knocked on the door, desperate for someone to answer, and had the strangest feeling someone had been in the house. She now knew who. She looked at the shutters once again, painted as yellow as daffodils, and wondered which of the Reed brothers was responsible.
Dray spotted her now, and he also froze for a moment, shock and embarrassment fighting for domination across his face. But there was no anger, and Tess was grateful for it as much as she was also sorry to have come upon him this way. He broke the stalemate first, striding towards her.
“Hullo,” he said in greeting, now standing close enough to touch her, though his hands stayed firmly at his sides, his demeanor almost shy.
Tess looked down. “Hi,” she said softly.
He waited for her to speak more, but didn’t press when she seemed unable to form the words. Rather, he ambled a few feet back towards the boardwalk and then sat down onto the scraggly grass, plucking a long stalk and tucking it into his mouth. H
e looked back over his shoulder at her, cocking his head sideways until she acquiesced, plunking down beside him a few seconds later.
Tess rubbed the sand from her hands and its grainy texture centered her. Without thinking, she tugged off one shoe and then another, then dug her toes into the sand, and for a moment she was lost in the sensation of the cool gritty surface upon her tired feet.
“So, should I assume you were looking for me?” Dray said, interrupting her reverie.
Tess blushed, grateful for lack of light. “Yes. I was worried I wouldn’t find you in time.”
“But you have,” Dray said, something unfamiliar in his voice that made Tess feel slightly off-kilter. She struggled to right herself, to change the subject to something firm.
“Who painted the shutters?” she asked.
If Dray noticed the abrupt shift, he didn’t comment. He glanced briefly at the decrepit building. “Ashe.”
“Does he come out here much?”
Dray looked away, his eyes setting on some distant point on the dark horizon. “No. Never.”
Cheerful Ashe, eternal optimist and hopeless flirt- was it any wonder he couldn’t bring himself to come back here? Could he be judged for it? She wondered if he judged himself, when moments of solitude hit and he couldn’t avoid the pain through distraction. That’s when it always hit her the hardest.
“It’s out there, you know,” Dray said, nodding towards the darkness. “Their ship.”
“Who? The Lampreys’?”
“Aye- the Blackbirder, a colossal frigate. They sail it out to the sea dimple in the day, but bring it back in the evening, anchor in the harbor for shelter. But I think it’s really just to emphasize how massive their reach is. With those cannons aimed towards us, it’s another reminder to stay in line, not cause waves.” Dray spit out the last words, poison in his voice. “I’ll burn the whole thing down someday, mark my words.”
Tess could see he was sincere, though she wondered if the act would give him any peace.
