Chapter 1 #2
The floor was sticky. On second glance, even the walls looked sticky.
And the people too. The entire establishment seemed draped in shadow, smoke, and grime.
A rough, tattered-looking patron who had been lingering by the entrance took a deep puff from his pipe and blew the smoke directly in Edith’s face.
The cloying taste of it sat heavily on her tongue, and she shuddered to think how many baths she would need to wash the smell out of her hair.
Lifting the hem of her dress, she delicately waded through the mass of bodies and toward the bar.
It took her far longer than she would have expected to signal the barman.
She was shocked that so many people were drinking already, and by the behavior of some of the men in there, they were already quite deep in their cups.
The barman gave her a scathing look as he approached her.
“Good afternoon, sir.” Edith smiled at his stone-hewed expression.
“What’ll it be?” His grumble was barely audible over the noise of the crowd.
Edith leaned close, discreetly checking the bar for spills before resting her elbows against the wood. “I’m here to speak with him.” At the barman’s blank look, she added, “You know, your boss.” She threw in a wink for good measure.
“Girlie, I think you’re confused …” He trailed off, looking at her like she was a strange bug.
Edith huffed and drew even closer. “I was told this was where I could meet with the Sunless Syndicate.” She had overheard her father discussing the legendary gang with his business associates.
They had spoken of them disparagingly but also, somehow, with great importance.
Phrases like “the moral decay of the country” and “death of civility” had been thrown around with no small frequency.
The barman barked a laugh that sounded more like a cough. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He started to turn away, but Edith reached out and grabbed his arm. “Yes, I do!”
The barman’s expression turned murderous as his eyes drifted down to where she held him in place by the arm. Edith felt the urge to retreat, but she gripped him harder. “I demand to be taken to him.”
Before she knew what was happening, the barman had twisted his wrist so that he was the one gripping her arm. He yanked her forward, and she fell against the bar. When she tried to stand, his large hand came down on her head, holding her in place.
She kicked her legs uselessly. “Let me go this instant!”
Nothing happened. As far as she could tell, every patron in the inn was entirely ignoring her predicament. Perhaps this was where civility came to die. She truly hadn’t expected this to be the most dangerous part of her quest.
The pressure against her head let up. “It’s time for you to go,” he growled, releasing her arm and shoving her back. The aggressive barman lumbered around the counter, then came to loom over her. He took her arm once again, this time in an even more punishing grip.
“I am not leaving until I speak to the Sunless Syndicate!” She tried to tug her arm from his grasp. He ignored her attempts, fully focused on all but dragging her out the door.
Edith did the first thing that popped into her mind. She went limp, letting her body drop to the sticky floor like a stone. It was disgusting and painful, but it also surprised the barman so much that he lost his grip on her completely.
She straightened her body into a log and rolled right against his shins. Just as desired, he toppled over her and only barely caught himself before landing face-first on the floor.
Before he could make it back to his feet, Edith took off for the door behind the bar. Just as she was reaching for the handle, a strong hand clapped down on her shoulder and whirled her back around.
“How dare you,” the barman growled at her. His cheeks were blotched with red, and spittle flew from his lips.
“How dare I?” Edith straightened to her full height, which was markedly average and nowhere near the height of the man before her. “How dare you treat a lady like this.”
“There aren’t no ladies here.” He smiled brutally at her and raised his hand.
Edith closed her eyes, but the blow never came. She opened one eye to see a slender man with close-cropped chestnut hair and an impressive scowl whispering in the barman’s ear.
With a curse, the barman spit on the floor and thrust Edith toward the newcomer, who caught her by the shoulders and looked down at her with a barely restrained snarl. “The boss wants to see you.”
Edith brushed the wrinkles from her skirt and threw a pointed glare at the barman. “That’s what I thought.”
She was led not through the door behind the bar but instead up a shadowy staircase near the back of the room. She counted the flights as they went, and on the seventh and final floor, they stopped in front of a door that was painted pitch-black.
The slender man knocked three times, turned the handle, then pushed Edith through the doorway before slamming it closed again between them.
She stumbled alone into the dimly lit room. It was a long, rectangular chamber, with slanted walls that came to a point above her. The attic. What an odd place for a crime boss, Edith thought, her eyes widening at the almost cozy feel of the little chamber.
A tapping noise drew her attention to the far side of the room.
There, shrouded in shadow, was a figure in an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair.
Not that one could tell from the way the person was lounging in it.
Their back rested against one arm, and their long legs were carelessly thrown over the other.
Edith cleared her throat and stepped forward. “Are you in charge of the Sunless Syndicate?”
“That’s what they tell me,” came a low voice with just a hint of raspiness. The figure’s head tilted up, and although Edith could make out a mass of long curly hair, the features were still lost in shadow. “What can I do for you, sweetheart?”
Edith felt her cheeks flush at the endearment. The cadence of the person’s speech was vaguely familiar, but she brushed the thought away due to its impossibility. “Actually, it’s what I can do for you,” she said.
“Oh, really?” The figure swung their legs from the armrest.
After a steadying breath, her fingers tingling in anticipation, the words that she had practiced fell from her lips. “My name is Edith Darling, and I have an opportunity for you. An opportunity to change the world.”
“Tell me more.”
Edith opened her mouth to continue her speech, but all thought fled from her mind when the person in the chair leaned forward and into the light.
Because the most dangerous criminal, the boss of the most feared syndicate in England, was a woman. And not just any woman, but the highwaywoman herself.
“It’s you,” Edith breathed, absolutely stunned by her good fortune, but also struck by the oddness of it. She couldn’t fathom why a crime boss would be out committing petty thievery alone. Whatever the reason, though, she was glad for it.
“It’s me,” the highwaywoman said with mock surprise.
“Thomasin Shaw, leader of the Sunless Syndicate, at your service.” If the woman had appeared ruthless before, she seemed deadly now.
Her hair, released from the knot, was an unruly mane of curls, darkest brown, almost black.
Something like charcoal or ash was smeared across her brow and painted around her eyes, giving the impression that they were staring out at Edith from a night sky.
Laced all the way up to her neck was a leather contraption somewhere between jacket and bodice.
The trousers, too, were black leather that clung tightly to her form.
Edith could barely move past the fact that the woman was wearing trousers at all, let alone contemplate the sheer number of knives strapped along her legs. More than seemed reasonable.
The woman cleared her throat, and Edith dragged her attention back up her body, only to be newly impressed by the pistols hanging at her hips, and the even more knives buckled along her torso that Edith hadn’t noticed at first.
Catching Edith’s rapt attention, the syndicate boss laid a hand on the pistol that she had pointed at Edith only hours earlier. She smiled at Edith’s perusal of her.
For a split second, Edith wondered what in the hell she was doing.
Fear mounted in her throat, and she wished that she were safe at home, among her familiar things and favorite books, with people who maybe only tolerated her but who would never actually harm her.
With her grandmother right down the hall if she got too lonely.
But the fear was gone as quickly as it had come. This criminal didn’t scare Edith. She looked like a villain plucked straight from the pages of her favorite stories, and that was what Edith had always wanted—to live in a story. So it wasn’t fear that sped up her heartbeat now; it was excitement.