8. Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Her stomach rumbled and Lux pressed a hand to it, the heavy purse still dangling from her wrist. She felt like a fool for her overconfidence in Shaw’s wish for money. Maybe she’d become jaded after all, following her experiences with the elite sprawled out like fat cats within Ghadra’s walls.
Crossing over into the wealthier side of town, Lux decided to brave an eatery and its crowd. She needed more time. More time to deliberate over her aunt’s mysterious whereabouts in addition to the mayor’s guzzling of drained lifeblood, and she didn’t feel she could do that in Riselda’s presence.
She scanned the streets. It was midweek. The Markets slowed, and it appeared if she must eat a meal surrounded by people, today was a good day for it. A carriage ambled past, and Lux moved further against the cold buildings, her eyes locked on the least threatening café that came to mind: The Blooming Begonia.
The painted sign swung in the breeze, an aged bell tinkling with enthusiastic peals. Though the sound grated, she still moved to claim one of the few outside tables. The sunlight peeking through clouds every few minutes was worth the risk of worsening her headache. Sliding onto the iron chair, she eased back, allowing the rays to bathe her cheeks.
“Afternoon! Need a menu?”
Lux opened her eyes as the sun ducked behind another grey cloud. “Yes, thank you.” Outstretched fingers met, and Lux held the handwritten menu to eye level as the flower-splashed pattern of the woman’s skirt hovered for a minute more.
Lux glanced up from the list of soups.
“I’m sorry. I only just realized who you were.” A palm rested over her heart. “My daughter drowned in the marshes. We didn’t find her body until much too late, but your compassion, I’ve never forgotten it. And you, being only a child yourself.” The proprietor leaned in and would have grasped Lux’s hand if she hadn’t pulled it into her lap. The woman’s brow furrowed for a breath before it smoothed. “Your meal is on me. Whatever you like.” With a sad smile and a swipe of wet cheeks, she hurried into the Begonia’s inside.
A man’s shout distracted Lux before she could attempt to place the memory of the woman’s dead child. Down the street from the café sat a shop, though she fought to remember what it sold. The commotion coming from it, however, told her whatever it had been, was surely destroyed. Glass continued to shatter, mingling with shouted curses and grunted oaths.
Struggling to peer above the heads that continued to materialize, Lux finally stood on her uneven chair. A risky move, that. She tightened her core against its attempts at removing her from her perch and hissed.
The Shield. Their white uniforms were completed with sleek, brown batons, though she knew the simple garb concealed much more. They currently wielded their weapons without mercy against an aging man whom they’d dragged onto the street.
How strange . They didn’t often cause this sort of public display on the Light side of town. They were growing bolder—and more vicious. The man fell to his knees when the blow to his back found its mark, his spectacles skittering across the cobblestones. Another kick to the gut and he rolled to his side with a pitiful groan. An arm raised with brutal intent.
They would kill him .
Lux sprinted down the street before she realized she’d given her legs permission to move. She hated how her heart bounded as curious eyes followed her. She hated how cold sweat trickled down her neck as the looming guards turned to take her measure. She hated blood.
What am I doing? But the thought came too late.
The elderly man laid gasping and bent at her feet, a red stream trickling from his mouth and ear, puddling beneath him. Lux wrinkled her nose but surprised herself in that she didn’t step away. The stupefied Shield was enough to steal her attention from it.
“Can we help you, sweetheart?” The one nearest her swung his baton in lazy circles.
Lux curled her lip before pitching her words loud and lofty, like a true member of the Light. “ Can you? Perhaps if you’ve a time-turning tonic in those uniforms of yours. My afternoon is ruined because of this barbaric assault on my ears! A pleasant lunch—ruined! How do you suppose you can remedy that, hmm? I say, this is the Light! ”
The three guards glanced between each other, at a loss. Apparently, it was easier to destroy a glassware shop and murder the proprietor in the street than attempt to explain themselves to a hysterical girl.
Resisting, they said . They were always resisting. And Lux was never offered the option to revive them.
“What did the criminal do?” Lux appeared to calm enough to toe at the old man, whose attempt to sit only led to another ungracious collapse.
The middle Shield spoke this time. “He’s delinquent on his taxes.” He spat a brown stream onto the stones. “And the mayor has been very generous in his patience.”
“I see. How horribly distraught the mayor must be over his loss of funds.” As if he needed it. She nearly snorted. “Go ahead, continue to beat him. I apologize over my outburst, for he certainly deserves it.”
By now Lux had wasted enough time that the streets filled with interested onlookers, with more than a few darkening in anger. Even if it were only for selfish reasons that they were bothered at all by the scene before them, the guards gauged the crowd, glanced to the bleeding man before them, and finally back to Lux.
“You’ve a dark mind for a woman.” The Shield nearest Lux, the one who had spoken first, licked his chapped lips with approval. Lux almost vomited.
“We’ll be back for you. Once the mayor hears how you’ve failed—yet again—to meet fair demands, you’ll be thrown into prison.” Lashing out one last time, the middle Shield kicked the proprietor brutally.
Lux buried a wince, and the old man retched onto the cobblestones.
Laughing between them now, they turned back the way they’d come. Back toward the shelter of their master. Though Lux couldn’t help but catch the eye once more of the lumbering Shield who had regarded her like a dark prize.
She waited until they rounded the corner before falling to her knees. Lux assessed the man quickly. Blackening eyes, bruised limbs. Maybe a few broken ribs. With some help, he’d live. She sighed in relief.
“Did I make things worse for you?”
The shopkeeper’s eyes were startlingly young in so worn a face. “Not likely, my dear. I think you may have saved my life.” The man coughed a mess of blood to the side, and she twitched away. He struggled to draw breath. “It isn’t my fault no one wants trinkets anymore.”
She had planned to part with it anyway. That’s what she told herself as she handed the heavy purse upon her wrist to the broken man at her feet. “For your shop. Or if you should die.” Lux stood before he could protest—or worse—thank her profusely and pushed her way through the dispersing crowd to enter another alleyway.
Her stomach rumbled. They really had disrupted her lunch.
Tucking her hands into the pockets of her skirt, Lux trudged through the streets, dejected. She couldn’t help but feel the day had been a thorough waste of time. And aside from pulling very little information from the one person who appeared capable of providing it, she had now caught the attention of the Shield. There wasn’t a soul in Ghadra that wished to reap their scrutiny.
Buried in drawing up plans for her next attempt at winning Shaw over, and consequently getting her hands on his ancestor’s journal, Lux didn’t hear the rumble of wood on stone. She didn’t hear the crack of a whip through the air. But she did hear the manic shouts.
“Out of the street! Oy, crazy girl! Out! MOVE!”
Lux dove to the safety of a random building’s front as a death-cart passed over the exact space she’d been a moment before. Barreling away, the driver, a reaper, waved his crop in the air at her in irritation before shifting in his seat, hunching forward. The old horse picked up its pace.
And she watched as a foot bounced along in its new rhythm. Blue, stiff, and covered with monstrous black boils, it fell further from beneath its covering. One by one, the pustules burst. Dark fluid spread like ink upon parchment. Lux had never seen anything like it. Just as she had never seen a death-cart move so fast, or a driver so panicked.
She returned to the street, glancing back the way it’d come, and then toward its destination.
She broke into a sprint.
Slumped over the bridge’s joined stones, Lux heaved gulping breaths. The wagon had slowed at last, navigating the narrow path with care before reaching the grassy stretch on its opposite side. With another crack through the air, the reaper pushed the horse faster than it had likely gone in years, disappearing into the hovering tree line.
Lux swore she heard them groan in anticipation.
She had never crossed the bridge. Not even when it was her own parents entering the looming darkness. The trees tracked her movements, she was sure of it, and she didn’t know what they would do to her should she enter their domain.
And so, she waited.
She waited until the reaper’s eyes widened above his simple black mask, taking her in upon his return. He slowed the horse to a stop, and the poor beast was too tired to even blow out a breath of greeting as it lowered its head in appreciation of the reprieve.
“Well, well. The little girl that almost hitched a ride to the trees.” His eyes creased at their corners as he jabbed a thumb at the wagon behind him. Clearly having been relieved of his cargo had elevated his spirits.
“I never knew death-carts could move so fast.” Lux sniffed at his flippant disregard in nearly trampling her. “And I’ve never seen a body covered in black, festering boils before. Do you know what caused the death?”
The man shrugged. “I don’t get paid enough to care. All I know is the building he came from stunk of jasmine and rotten flesh. Bad mix.” He shuddered, his mask slipping from his hooked nose. “I wanted that body out of my wagon as fast as could be.”
“Which side of town?”
The man studied her like she’d gone addled before his mouth twisted beneath the fabric stretched across it. “Which do you think?”