by K. M. Fahy
She pictured the nearby candelabra as Catarva stared her down. It was a desperate move, but the door was just behind them. If she could get to it in one bound, she could—
“Yes, Officer. The Manons are members of my Church.”
Kitieri’s thoughts ground to a halt, and her body froze. She dared not even look at the officer when Gall snapped his head around to glare at her.
“Are you absolutely certain, Baliant?”
“Are you questioning whether or not I know my own people?”
“I—this is—she—”
“Officer, I’m quite sure you have more important business requiring your attention than harassing members of a Church not your own. I will have their documents sent to you first thing tomorrow.”
Gall broke into a sputtering fit, and Kitieri turned her head just enough to see his face turn as red as his uniform jacket. Catarva cracked a cold smile.
“Good night, Officers.”
Gall turned on his heel and stormed out of the Church with his men in tow, muttering a string of curses under his breath. When the doors slammed shut, the plump woman let out a loud huff.
“I just can’t stand those Histan officers,” she declared. “It’s always violence first with them!”
Kitieri stared at the door in disbelief. Taut nerves vibrated her body as she waited for it to fly open again, and she jumped as Jera flung her arms around her waist, crying against her jacket. Kitieri looked back to Catarva, and found herself fixed in an unreadable stare.
“Thank you,” she managed, holding Jera’s head. With a thoughtful nod, Catarva turned to the short woman.
“Minna, our guests look hungry and tired. Would you be so kind as to prepare a room and ask the staff to set my table for four this evening?”
“Yes, Baliant!” Minna bowed before bouncing off to carry out her tasks.
“Uh, that’s not necessary.” Kitieri shook her head. “We don’t want to put you out any further.”
“Nonsense.” Catarva cut her off, stepping on her last word. “You are members of our Church now, are you not? I would see you fed and cared for. Inra, would you be so kind?”
Kitieri blinked. The words coming from the woman’s lips were pleasant, but a discomfort swelled in her chest. The red-haired officer behind Catarva stepped up close to her, reaching out for her neck, and Kitieri flinched, instinctively knocking the officer’s hand away with a swing of her fist.
“Easy!” Inra said, leaning back with her hands up. “I’m just going to take that collar off. Can I do that?”
Kitieri touched the metal band around her neck, surprised. She’d forgotten it was there.
“Sorry,” she muttered. Inra stepped in again, slower this time.
“It’s all right,” she said quietly. “It looks like you’ve been through the hells, but you’re safe here.”
Kitieri watched the officer’s kind, freckled face as she slid one finger up under the collar, momentarily tightening the band around her throat. Her hazel eyes closed, and the pressure around Kitieri’s neck dissipated. When Inra stepped back, she held a blob of melted silver and brownish-red crystals in her palm, and Kitieri grinned. Metal elements were rare in Shirasette; she’d never seen one work before.
“Better get these, too,” Inra said, gesturing to the chains tucked up into her jacket. In less than a minute, Kitieri’s wrists and ankles were free from their shackles.
“Haldin.” Catarva addressed another of her officers with an almost calculating drawl, and a tall man with light brown hair and a strong jaw stepped up beside her. “Please escort the Manons to the bath chambers so they may refresh themselves before dinner. I will have Minna bring fresh clothes.”
Haldin bowed before turning away, and Kitieri followed with Jera clinging to her leg, Taff close behind. The Baliant’s eyes bored into her back until Haldin led them out of view through a side door, and Kitieri breathed a silent sigh of relief.
“What happened, Kitieri?” Jera asked, tugging on her jacket. “Why didn’t you come home?”
Kitieri glanced at Haldin’s back as they walked, trying to swallow the fear that swelled in her throat. Were they really going to the… baths? Why would the Baliant do this? What kind of trap were they walking into?
“Kitieri?” Jera tugged harder.
“I’ll tell you everything later, okay?”
“We thought something happened to you.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Why did those men come to our house? Why did they want to hurt us?”
“Jera, not now.”
“What is going on?”
“Hey.” Kitieri squeezed her sister’s shoulder. “Let’s play a game. What do you think is going to be for dinner?”
Jera’s eyes brightened, and her wide smile showed her first missing tooth. “Cheese?”
“I’m sure there will be cheese.” Kitieri smiled. “And maybe even roasted meat.”
“Roasted meat?” Taff piped up behind them.
“I’d bet on it,” Kitieri said over her shoulder.
“What if it’s a ham?” Jera said, wide eyes sparkling.
“Chicken is more likely,” Taff countered.
“How do you know?”
“Pfft. No one is wasting a ham on us.”
Kitieri listened to her siblings squabble as Haldin led them through the maze of hallways. With the oran collar gone, she tested her element. It buzzed beneath her skin in response, skittering to her fingertips to await her command, and she looked back up at the man in front of her.
I swear, you try one thing, and I will kill you, she thought.
“Here we are.” Haldin came to an abrupt stop, gesturing to two doors standing opposite one another. “Women’s here, men’s there.”
Kitieri inspected the doors suspiciously, pulling Jera in closer to her, and the man ducked his head a little.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
Kitieri sucked in a quick breath, meeting his pale blue eyes. Where she’d expected disdain, malice, bemusement… anything… she saw only earnest concern.
“Yeah,” she replied quickly. “Uh, thank you.”
Haldin nodded once, taking his leave, and Kitieri watched him go. He was just going to walk away? No guards…?
“Hey.” Taff’s voice pulled her back. “I’ll be waiting out here when you two are done.”
Kitieri nodded, steering Jera to the other door, and hot steam hit her face as they entered. A long line of pools set into the stone floor ran the length of the dim chamber, curtain rods separating each one. Kitieri jumped back as a young woman appeared through the haze.
“Sorry to frighten you.” The woman smiled. “May I help you?”
“Uh,” Kitieri said, “no. No, thanks. We can help ourselves.”
“It’s all right,” she assured them. “It’s my job. Can I take your clothes?”
Kitieri looked down at the state of her garments. Ripped pants revealed a scabbed knee, and she was covered in dirt and ash. Her mother’s jacket had been torn, and the lining showed through beneath the leather.
“No, thanks,” she said, more apologetically this time. “If it’s all the same, we’ll just take care of ourselves.”
“Of course,” the woman said. “You may prefer the end bath down there. Soap is provided.”
Kitieri nodded her thanks, and walked hand in hand with Jera to the last pool in the room, where the lamplight hardly reached. She yanked the curtains closed around them, further deepening the shadows.
“Can you tell me what’s happening now?” Jera whispered. She looked up at the ceiling, surprised to hear her voice echoing back at her so loudly. Kitieri grinned.
“Arms up.”
Jera rolled her big gray eyes, but followed Kitieri’s directions before sliding into the pool as Kitieri grabbed the soap bar on the ledge.
“It’s so warm!” Jera exclaimed. Kitieri laughed as the echoes carried her sister’s voice all the way to the other end of the bath chamber. �
�And it smells like flowers!”
Kitieri poured water over Jera’s head, working the soap into her hair, and felt a pang of guilt as her hands came away brown with built-up grime. Baths had been a rare luxury her entire life, requiring a trip to the public bathhouse. The last time she’d taken Taff and Jera, a Strike had sent them sprinting for the tall building, and the risk had hardly seemed worth it since. That, coupled with her long work days in the mines…
Shit, the mines, Kitieri thought with a fresh wave of anxiety. Her overseer would be furious that she hadn’t shown up today. She’d been late only once in the past three years, because Taff had gotten sick, and she’d almost lost her job over it. If she was able to get back tomorrow, Kitieri hoped they might let her return to work with some hard begging and a beating. Her aching body groaned at the thought.
“Kitieri?” Jera’s soft voice interrupted her panicked spiral. “Are you okay?”
Kitieri forced a smile, dipping the soap back into the water. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
Jera lifted her hand with a little splash to rest it on Kitieri’s. “Everything is going to be fine now.”
Kitieri pushed back a piece of wet hair clinging to Jera’s forehead. “What makes you say that?”
“Good things are happening. Baths and food! These are nice people.”
Kitieri sighed, turning her hand over to hold Jera’s tight.
“I hope you’re right,” she said. Because I will raze this place to the ground before I let them hurt you.
“I’m right.” Jera grinned. “You always say that the Manons will survive.”
Kitieri gave a soft laugh. “That’s what Dad always said. And don’t forget it.”
Jera pulled her hand back into the pool, dunking her head to get the soap out of her hair.
“Aren’t you getting in?” she asked.
Kitieri sat back on her heels. “Yeah.”
Scooting back from the pool, she pulled off her dusty, scuffed-up boots and set them aside. As she tried to remove her jacket, her shoulder erupted into agonizing pain, and Kitieri ground her teeth.
“Jera, turn around.”
Her sister giggled. “Why?”
“Because I asked you.”
Jera turned with a shrug, moving to play with the soap bubbles on the other side of the pool. Kitieri shrugged her good shoulder, trying to shimmy out of the jacket without too much pain, but the lining clung to the sweat and dirt on her skin.
“Come on,” she muttered, closing her eyes to rest for a moment. The gentle sound of dripping water on stone reached her ears, and Kitieri opened her eyes to an empty pool. With a start, she turned to find Jera standing behind her, wrapping herself in one of the gray towels.
“I’ll help you,” she said, taking the jacket collar in both hands. She slid it off Kitieri’s shoulders, folded it neatly, and set it on top of her own clothes. “What happened to your arm?”
Kitieri shook her head, biting down on her lip as Jera pulled off her sleeveless black shirt.
“I fell on some stairs,” she said evasively. Jera dropped the garment on top of the pile and crouched down beside her, huge eyes full of concern.
“Is that how you got the rest of these, too?” she asked, tracing a long bruise, and Kitieri looked down at the angry welts and purple splotches that covered her body.
“Kind of,” she replied, pulling off the rest of her clothes. “They’re just bruises, Jera. I’ll be all right.”
As she sank into the warm water, her stiff muscles heaved a sigh of relief and her aches started to melt away. Goosebumps ran across her arms and shoulders, and Kitieri welcomed the sensation with a long exhale.
“Who did that to you?” Jera came to sit on the edge of the pool, dipping her feet into the water. Kitieri opened her eyes.
“The same kind of men who came to our house.”
“In the red jackets?”
“Yes.” Kitieri turned, resting a hand on Jera’s knee. “Now, listen to me, Jera. This is very important. When you see a red jacket like that, always go the other way. Don’t draw attention to yourself, just quietly get away from them as fast as you can.”
“Why?”
“Just to be safe.”
“Aren’t we safe here?”
Kitieri glanced at the closed curtain around their pool, wondering who might be listening on the other side.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “Just stay close to me while we’re here, and do everything I say, all right?”
Jera nodded, picking up the chunk of soap on the ledge. As she worked the suds into Kitieri’s tangled hair, pleasurable goosebumps ran down Kitieri’s arms again.
“Thank you, Jera,” she mumbled.
“You take care of us,” Jera said. “And now you’re hurt, so I can take care of you.”
Kitieri smiled. “When did you grow up so much?”
“Mmm…” Jera hummed a high pitch, as if contemplating the answer to a difficult question. “I think yesterday, maybe.”
Kitieri laughed, grabbing Jera’s ankle under the water. Jera shrieked, kicking and laughing, and Kitieri didn’t care that her voice carried across the chamber.
“Excuse me, ladies?”
Kitieri jumped off the pool wall at the voice, heart leaping into her throat. She exhaled in a rush as the short, plump woman from the Sanctuary stepped in, holding a basket of clothes.
“Apologies!” Minna said, stepping through the curtain. “I brought a fresh change for you. I’ll just take these old things—”
Kitieri flung her arm out of the pool as she reached for the old pile, spraying water everywhere. “No!”
Minna jumped back.
“I’m sorry.” Kitieri drew her hand back. “Just—leave the jacket.”
“This old thing?” Minna picked up the torn leather garment, looking it up and down as if it might give her some kind of disease.
“Yeah.”
“As you wish, Ms. Manon.” Minna set the basket of new clothes on the floor, leaving the existing pile untouched. “I will be waiting outside when you’re done.”
Minna bowed, and the curtain fluttered back into place.
“Thank you,” Kitieri called after her. Jera nudged her with her foot under the water once the door to the bath chamber closed.
“I think you scared her,” she whispered with a giggle.
Kitieri grinned, turning back to the pool. “She scared me first.”
Jera’s giggles doubled in volume as Kitieri dipped under the water, rinsing the soap from her hair and scrubbing her entire body. Jera handed her one of the gray towels as she stepped out, and they dressed in the loose-fitting clothing. Kitieri combed through Jera’s hair with her fingers, braiding it down her back before they gathered their old clothes and left.
Taff was leaning against the wall beside Minna when they emerged from the steamy chamber, dressed in the same light gray pants and loose-fitting top.
“Oh, don’t you three look so much better!” Minna piped, beaming. “And you smell better, too.”
She bounced away, and they followed her back through the twisting hallways.
As they ascended into the upper levels of the Church, the stair landings became increasingly dominated by tall, arched windows looking out over the Square. Stars twinkled in the velvet sky around the last hints of orange on the horizon, and Kitieri paused. Just one day ago, she and Noia had set out for the Church of Histan in hopes of a better life. One day—and an entire lifetime, it seemed.
Kitieri stopped at one of the windows, touching the glass with tentative fingertips, and felt the clean, light draft seeping in.
I’m sorry you never got that life, Noia.
A gentle hand on her arm turned Kitieri from the window, and she looked down at Taff.
“Are you all right?” he asked. Behind him, Minna was halfway up the next set of stairs, carrying on a cheerful conversation with Jera. Kitieri pressed her lips together with a soft sigh through her nose, and nodded.
They
climbed floor after floor, each window looking out higher above the city. Their pace slowed, and Minna’s huffing and puffing became audible up ahead until she finally paused on a landing.
“Honestly,” she panted, “you’d think I’d be better at this by now! It just never gets any easier.”
Kitieri smiled. She was in no rush.
“I was wondering…” she started, taking advantage of the break. Minna’s brows rose in interest, eager for the extended rest.
“Yes, my dear?”
Kitieri gave her an innocent look. “You seem to work closely with the Baliant. Do you know her well?”
“Oh yes, I practically raised her!” Minna laughed. “Well, not ‘practically.’ I did raise her.”
“Oh.” Kitieri hadn’t expected that answer.
Minna lifted her skirts to continue up the next flight of stairs. “She’s a fine Baliant, wise beyond her years. I’m sure you’ll love her—everybody does. Well, almost everybody.”
“Almost?” Kitieri raised an eyebrow.
Minna giggled nervously. “The Board doesn’t count, as I see it. They don’t like anybody.”
“What’s the Board?” Kitieri asked.
“The Board of Advisors? You’ve never…?” Mina took in a quick breath. “Ah, well, each Church has a Board of Advisors that serve the Baliant. They aid in decisions of government, law, spending… you know, all the boring stuff.” Minna smiled warmly. “They’re set up to be checks and balances so no one person has too much control, but this particular Board is just…”
Minna shook her head with a gargled sound of frustration before turning her focus back to saving breath for the ascent. Kitieri pictured Stil’s black robes and gold sash and suppressed a shudder. If she hadn’t used up all her luck accidentally repelling that Strike at the pillar, she’d be able to get Taff and Jera out of here before she ever saw another black robe.
“How long has she been Baliant?” she asked, changing the subject. “She seems so…”
“Yes, she is quite young for such a prestigious role,” Minna said. “But that is probably a story better left for her to tell. Here we are!”
They reached what had to be the top floor of the Church, and Minna knocked on a double set of ornate mahogany doors. One opened, and Kitieri was surprised to see Catarva herself.
