by Tara Sim
Pride.
A while later, the nurse came back and told him that visitation hours were over. He squeezed Soria’s hand and stood.
“I’ll be back tomorrow after work,” he said. “Let me know how the treatment goes.”
“I will.”
The nurse murmured to the woman across the room, who seemed stubborn to stay.
“Mrs. Caver, you may return tomorrow,” the nurse was saying. “But he will need to rest now.”
The woman swore and threatened to speak to the administrator about how she was being treated, and the poor nurse grimaced in discomfort. Cayo frowned, too, but not for the same reason; he frowned because the name sounded familiar.
As the woman finally stormed out, Cayo following a smart distance behind, it clicked: Caver was the name that Amaya and Remy had found in connection with the Benefactor.
Cayo’s heart sped up as he glanced over his shoulder at the sick boy, his face splotched with gray.
Could they be connected?
He told the others when he returned to the apartment. Their expressions ranged from surprised to uncertain to excited.
“Congratulations,” said Liesl with a smile as sharp as her knife. “You may not be able to throw a decent punch, but you just got us a new lead.”
We find war in ourselves, as we find war in churning red mud, gunpowder clouds, the cries of sated crows. We walk from a battleground every day.
—XIN SHE, REHANESE PHILOSOPHER
You’re strangling the bread,” Liesl told her.
Amaya relaxed her hold on the crusty loaf in her hands, hearing it crackle as the scent of yeast wafted from the fabric Liesl had wrapped it in. “Sorry.”
She blamed the fact that they were surrounded by too many people for her comfort, all chattering and haggling across the marketplace in a language she didn’t know. Not even the threat of a mysterious fever could stop them from congregating. Amaya and Liesl stood under a red awning as Liesl tested tomatoes, gently squeezing them to determine their ripeness.
Amaya was fascinated by the food here. She was used to the colorful fruits and produce of Moray: taro, coconut, mango, guava. Moray’s cuisine was a curious blend of Rehanese and Ledese, with Rain Empire delicacies. But here the focus was on bread, potatoes, and cheese—and fish, of course—and Amaya wondered how the people here could sustain diets so rich in heavy foods.
It reminded her of being in Viariche during her training with Boon and the others. The way Boon had sometimes bought an entire loaf of bread and ripped hunks from it while walking down the streets at night, teaching her how to steal, how to misdirect others.
The memory turned her stomach cold, and she suddenly wanted to hurl the bread she was holding as far away from her as possible.
I will find you, she thought. I’ll put everything you taught me to use and make you suffer.
“Stop scowling,” Liesl said. “You’ll attract attention.”
Amaya forced herself to take a deep breath. They weren’t here to merely shop for their dinner. Amaya glanced down the street, where Avi casually leaned against a building. He affected boredom, but he was keeping a careful eye on their mark, a young woman with a basket dangling from her arm. She currently stood before a stall displaying glass bottles of milk.
“Something’s been bothering you,” Liesl said as she moved on to the next stall, this one carrying different types of salts. Liesl tested a thick granule of pink salt and hummed in approval.
Amaya began to squeeze the bread again, strangely comforted by its texture. “It’s nothing.”
“Yara…”
She sighed, partially from resignation and partially from the sound of her fake name. “It’s really nothing. Just… thinking about Boon. How to track him down.”
Liesl peered over her glasses at her. “And? How far have you gotten?”
Amaya blinked. She had expected a reprimand, maybe even laughter. “Not far?”
“Do you think he left Moray?”
“If he’s smart, he would have.”
“Do you think he has ties to the Benefactor?”
“I…” Amaya stared at the girl, wondering how much time Liesl had devoted to this particular train of thought. “He might. He probably does, doesn’t he?”
Liesl nodded. “Then that means Boon is either in hiding, or somewhere within the Rain Empire. Or both.”
“When were you going to discuss this with me?”
“We’re discussing it now, aren’t we?”
Amaya gritted her teeth against a retort. Still, she felt better knowing she wasn’t the only person who planned to find him again. The others were just as hurt, just as ready to spring into action. Even Cayo was doing his part by asking them for training.
“By the way, you’re going too easy on Cayo,” Amaya said. “He’s already been pampered all his life. He needs to learn faster.”
Liesl thought it over as she filled a small pouch with the pink salt and paid the vendor. “Maybe I am being too lenient. But people like him tend to break if they’re pushed too hard.”
“He won’t break.” She didn’t know where the acidity in her voice came from. “He’s not as strong as he’d like, but he’s not weak.”
Liesl’s lips quirked up in a smile, though Amaya wasn’t sure why. “Noted. I’ll go harder on him. Poor lad.”
“See? You’re doing it again.” Amaya rolled her shoulders back, trying to get rid of some of the tension. “You were never that soft with me.”
Liesl paused before a cabbage merchant, a curious expression crossing her face. She took in a breath as if to speak, then let it out as a sigh. After a moment she said, “You’re right. I suppose… I suppose I was harder on you because you remind me of someone.”
Amaya’s frown dissolved. “Your sister.”
Liesl nodded. She picked up a cabbage head, pretending to study it as her eyes grew distant.
“The first wave of the Rain Empire’s military swept through Chalier about ten years ago. It was… bloody. The country had resisted for as long as it could, but in the end, it fell because of dirty politicians and the cowardice of the wealthy class. They were allowed to keep their manors and their titles so long as they signed off the land to the empire.”
Liesl took a short, controlled breath and set the cabbage head down. “Naturally, the common folk took the brunt of the invasion. They fought back in whatever ways they could. They refused to simply hand over all they had to an empire they wanted no part of.” Her jaw clenched, the muscle jutting out. “My parents were part of the rebellion. There was a horrible riot, what people refer to now as the Courser Day Massacre. They both died that day.”
Amaya hugged the loaf of bread to her chest. She had guessed that Liesl was also an orphan, but knew it couldn’t have been an easy thing to say aloud. The gods knew she had trouble even thinking it. “I’m so sorry.”
“I was left alone to care for my little sister, and as a result she had to grow up much faster than she should have.” Liesl shook her head. “She’d been such a sunny child, and after that… well. Neither of us were the same.
“As we grew older, my sister and I did the only thing we could to avenge our parents—we joined the rebellion ourselves, to one day claim our independence again.” Liesl lowered her voice even more. “Although now, as you can see, it’s more of an underground coalition. Too many of us have been caught or killed to risk being exposed.”
Amaya nodded. “Jasper’s in it, too.”
“Yes. It’s why he has so many contacts, knows his way through the city better than anyone. He and Adrienne became inseparable. He taught her how to get information, and she taught him how to decode messages. It was kind of terrifying, seeing them work so efficiently together.”
“Are you gonna buy some cabbages or no?” snapped the merchant.
Liesl cursed at him in Soléne before they moved on to a cloth vendor. “She was there when he lost his hand. They were caught on a ship during a mission to steal some naval plan
s. The captain retaliated by taking Jasper’s hand. Probably would have taken more had I not come and dragged them out of there.”
“So that’s what he meant by owing you,” Amaya murmured. “And why he didn’t like the sight of Remy’s jacket.”
“It’s always been dangerous, what we do. But the chance to get back at those who betrayed us… it was worth it, to me.” Liesl touched a bolt of satin, rubbing it between her fingers. “Until we were caught.”
“By André Basque?”
Liesl nodded, that cold, hard look returning to her eyes. “We were on a mission to get correspondence from his home office, but Adrienne was captured, and I ran back to try and save her. I’m sure you can guess how that went. I thought I was going to hang, but apparently because I’m a woman, they were too squeamish to sentence me to death.” She scoffed. “So they made me Landless instead.”
“And your sister?”
“I don’t know.” Liesl’s cold expression collapsed into one of such despair that Amaya felt it like a crack in her chest. “They kept us separated, and they refused to tell me what they’d done with her. Not even Jasper knows, and he practically tore the city apart to find out. I’ve searched for her, but it’s like trying to find one fish in an ocean.” She dropped the fabric and turned to Amaya. “But I haven’t given up. I swore that if I ever came back here, if I ever encountered Basque again, I would make him tell me where she was. I would finally get my vengeance—for myself, for Adrienne, and for our parents. Now that our path has led us here, I have to make the most of it. I have to find her.”
Amaya studied the ground as Liesl led her to the next stall. Some bell inside her had been struck by Liesl’s words, as if Liesl were a distorted mirror reflecting back the very thing that had driven Amaya to this moment. She brushed her thumb over the knife tattoo at her wrist, the ink no longer as stark and vibrant as it had once been.
Survive. Revenge. These were the pillars upon which she’d built herself, the promises that had given her a reason to fight, a reason to deceive and harm and kill. But even though she had taken strides to fulfill these promises, they had left her colder and emptier than before. She had ruined lives, including Cayo’s. Including her own.
What form of ruin would Liesl’s revenge take?
“That’s why you were happy to stay in Baleine,” Amaya said. Liesl nodded. “I’ll help you find your sister, so long as you don’t lose sight of our mission.”
She would be there for Liesl just as Liesl had been there for her. And, hopefully, there would be less of a mess to clean up afterward.
Liesl was solemn as she reached out and squeezed Amaya’s wrist.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
A soft whistle caught their attention. Avi stood nearby, feigning interest in a glassblower’s wares. He nodded discreetly in the direction where the young woman with the basket had gone.
“First things first,” Liesl muttered as she and Amaya began their slow, careful chase.
They followed the young woman through narrow alleys and streets, being mindful not to get too close or make much noise. Finally, she arrived at a handsome homestead, the front made of white stone and the windows sporting planters of red geraniums. It was by no means the nicest house Amaya had ever seen, but it was far from the worst.
Amaya ducked around the corner as Liesl hurried on ahead and pretended to trip over her skirts. “Oh, drat! Excuse me? Um, miss?”
The young woman turned, the front door open behind her. Her dark eyes were wide with surprise. “Yes? May I help you?”
It was easier for Amaya to hear Soléne than it was for her to speak it. Liesl had given her lessons when they had trained in Viariche, and even Boon had given her tips, although his accent had always made Liesl wince. But, just in case, Liesl had given her the gist of what she would say.
“I—I’m so sorry to intrude on your day,” Liesl stammered, clutching at her skirts, “but I’m afraid I’m lost. I’m waiting for my brother to pick me up. He said he would be somewhere on Malene Street, but I haven’t seen him yet. You haven’t seen him, have you?”
“I… don’t believe so,” the young woman replied, confusion threaded through her words.
“He works for an affluent family somewhere nearby. A family by the name of LeRaine. This wouldn’t be the LeRaine residence, would it?”
“No, it’s the Caver residence. LeRaine is that way.” The young woman pointed down the street.
Liesl brightened. “Oh! Thank you! Truly, I would lose my own head if it weren’t attached to my neck.…”
The young woman gave her a nervous smile and disappeared into the house, closing and locking the door behind her.
Liesl returned to Amaya as Avi joined up with them. “Let’s wait for nightfall before we continue. You know what to do, Avi?”
He looked offended by the question. “What do you think?”
“Then let’s get this food back to the apartment. Deadshot will start whittling the chairs into spears if there’s nothing for dinner.”
At midnight, Amaya, Liesl, and Deadshot met Avi down in the basement of the tenement building. Tied to a chair was a barrel-chested man with a gag in his mouth and a cloth over his eyes. He was sweating profusely, filling the damp, mildewy basement with the tang of salt and fear.
Liesl set her lantern on a dusty crate and clasped her hands together, all business. “Julien Caver?”
Avi removed the gag but not the blindfold. The man’s rasping breaths filled the dim basement, the shadows created by the lantern flickering across his square face.
“What do you want with me?” he growled. “Is it money? I’ll give you money, just let me go!”
“Money of a sort,” Liesl said. Her voice was cool and proper, and even Amaya found it intimidating. “We know you’ve been dealing with counterfeit currency, Mr. Caver. Or would you like us to call you the Benefactor?”
The man leaned back—or tried to, in his restrains. He bared his teeth, lips red from the gag.
“What are you talking about? Who’s a benefactor?”
Liesl exchanged a look with Avi, who stepped forward and smacked Caver across the face. The man cried out, and Amaya’s lips thinned.
“We don’t like playing games,” Liesl said. “Is it true that you frequently visited the currency exchange offices on Heliope Avenue to deposit large sums of gold?”
Caver gaped, speechless. Sweat rolled down his temples, dampening his blindfold.
“I… I used to. But that was months ago.”
“You changed offices, you mean. To stagger the trail.”
“What are you talking about? No, I…” Caver gulped, trembling now. “For a while I was hired by someone to go to the foreign currency exchange and put my name down on the transaction papers. Once a month, I’d go to pick up the stash and deliver it to the offices. Then I was paid a percentage from the exchange.”
Amaya frowned, as did Liesl. Deadshot made a questioning motion as to whether or not she should hit him this time, but Liesl shook her head.
“And how exactly did this work?” Liesl asked.
“I would get an address delivered a day before the exchange. I’d go to the address, and the money would be waiting. Then I took it to the offices, had it exchanged to Rain or Rehanese currency depending on what was in the bag, and took eight percent for myself. I’d go back to the address where I found the money and leave the exchanged money in its place. Then one day, the money just… stopped coming. I wasn’t given a reason why, just told that my services weren’t needed anymore.”
“But who hired you in the first place?” Liesl said.
“That’s just it—I have no idea. I felt like I was being followed for a week before I got a letter in the mail with the job offer. I needed the money bad, so I wrote back and accepted.”
Liesl removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. Deadshot had begun to pace.
“So you’re not the Benefactor,” she said flatly.
“I told yo
u, I have no idea what that means!”
“And you have no idea who hired you.” Liesl returned her glasses and fixed him with a glare he couldn’t see. “I’m sure this all seemed perfectly legal to you?”
“You don’t understand.” Caver’s voice began to tremble. “At first it was to pay off some debt, but then my son, he… he got the fever. Paying to keep him alive is taking everything from us. If my brother wasn’t military, I don’t even know how we’d be able to get him into a hospital. Every hospital in the city is overrun by the rich who can afford treatment.”
Amaya looked at Liesl. The girl looked back, frustration in her gaze. They had to let Julien Caver go.
Their lead had led to nothing.
“Very well,” Liesl said, signaling Avi again.
“Wait!” Caver shifted, and Amaya wondered if he thought they were going to kill him. “I know a fellow like me who was hired in the same fashion. Except he doesn’t go to the offices, he goes to the casinos.”
“The casinos?” Liesl repeated.
“He gets a cache of solstas and distributes them by gambling throughout the city. My guess is the money’s dirty. Spread out like that, it’ll be harder to track down, right?”
Amaya curled her hands into fists. If only he knew just how dirty that money was.
“And what’s this man’s name?” Liesl asked.
Caver hesitated, but eventually cowardice won out over loyalty. “Trevan Nicodeme.”
“What does he look like?”
“I… Just a regular man, you know? He’s got thick muttonchops. Bit of a belly. Likes to wear a pocket watch. I—I don’t know what else…”
Liesl nodded to Avi. “Thank you, Mr. Caver.” Avi quickly choked Caver into unconsciousness before reapplying the gag. “Get him back into his house before anyone realizes he’s missing.”
“The records at the offices said that Mercado was the one receiving the gold, not sending it,” Amaya pointed out. “Maybe they used a different office for Mercado’s payments?”
