Chapter 1 #3
I looked up to find Kora standing in the doorway, backlit by the dim glow of the hallway crystals. Her dark red hair fell loose around her shoulders, and her arms were crossed tight across her chest.
“From the Dredge?” My voice came out flat. “With what army?”
“I don’t know. I just—“ She moved into the room and dropped down beside me, her shoulder pressing against mine. “There has to be something we can do.”
“The Assembly doesn’t make mistakes. They don’t arrest people without evidence.”
“So someone really did rat him out.”
“Looks like it.”
The guilt twisted in my gut. This was on me. I was the one who’d risked it all for illegal scavenging. I was the one gathering clients in secret, slipping them scraps off the records. I was the reason he was trapped in that place, the reason he’d be left to rot there.
“I can practically read your thoughts.” Kora peered at me from over her bent knees.
“It’s not our fault. Without the extra work, your mom would have died long ago.
It’s not our fault the Assembly doesn’t look out for their own.
It’s only illegal because they decided not to share the wealth. Remember that.”
I just nodded without bothering to argue, knowing she was right, but my heart didn’t want to accept it.
We sat in silence for a moment. Through the workshop’s small window, I could see the night sky, stars scattered across the darkness like the crystals in my anchor pendant.
Somewhere out there, beyond the reach of our realm my father was suspended in darkness, locked in a prison designed to break minds and bodies.
“We need money,” I said finally. “A lot of it.”
Kora frowned. “For what? You can’t bribe the Assembly, Juno. They’d just arrest you too.”
“Not a bribe.” I scratched behind Click’s earhole, he closed his eyes and vibrated. “There are lawyers who specialize in Assembly law. People who know how to navigate the tribunal system, who can argue for reduced sentences or transfers to a regular prison.”
“That kind of lawyer costs—”
“Thousands of sovereigns. I know.”
We’d never had that kind of money, never even come close. Our scavenging runs brought in enough to buy my mom’s tonics and keep food on the table, with maybe a little left over for equipment repairs. But thousands?
Impossible.
“We could do more runs,” Kora said, but she didn’t sound convinced. “Hit some of the deeper dead realms, the ones with better salvage.”
“We’d need months to accumulate that much. Mom doesn’t have months.” I pulled my knees to my chest. “And honestly? Neither does he. You’ve heard the stories about the Dredge. What it does to people.”
The rumors were enough to inspire nightmares.
The Dredge was said to have thin walls, so that the echoes living in the deep void could scratch at them or whisper to the prisoners, eventually driving them mad.
I’d seen those echoes up close, the remnants of those who were lost to the void, and I wanted to crawl out of my skin.
“So what, then? We just give up?”
“No.” I turned to look at her, really look at her.
Kora had been my sister in everything but blood since we were children.
Since her parents, my father’s best friends in the world, had been killed and left her to us.
We’d learned to navigate the Gallery together, and had saved each other’s lives more times than I could count.
If anyone would understand what I was about to suggest, it would be her. “We take a job. A big one.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How big?”
“Enough to pay for the best lawyer in the city and still have enough left over for her tonics for the next year.”
Kora was quiet for a long moment. “You’re talking about Gideon Pike. You want to take him up on that offer.”
I nodded.
Gideon Pike ran most of the black market trade in our city, and probably half a dozen others besides.
He dealt in information, artifacts, and opportunities for people desperate or stupid enough to take them.
I’d never worked for him directly. We’d always been small-time, keeping our heads down, but I’d heard the stories.
Gideon paid well because his jobs had a tendency to get people killed.
“That’s insane,” Kora said, but not disagreeing. “Whatever he wants us to do—”
“Will be dangerous. I know. That woman said the job was in Nytheris.”
“More than dangerous then. Suicidal.”
“Maybe.” I stood, dislodging Click, who chittered his annoyance before scrambling up to my shoulder. “But what’s the alternative? Let my father rot in the Dredge? Watch my mom suffocate because we can’t afford her medicine?”
Kora rose to face me. “And if we die trying?”
“Then at least we died trying.”
She stared at me for a long moment, and I saw the war playing out behind her eyes.
The practical part of her brain, the part that had kept us alive through a hundred scavenging runs, was screaming that this was a terrible idea.
But the part that loved my family as much as I did, the part that had called my parents Uncle Marv and Aunt Tessa for the last two decades, was already nodding.
“When do we talk to him?”
“Tomorrow. I’ll send a courier tonight with a place and time.”
“Tomorrow.” She laughed dryly. “Why wait, right? Not like we need time to come to our senses.”
“Kor—”
“No, I’m in. You know I’m in.” She reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing hard. “But for the record, I think this is the worst idea you’ve ever had. And that’s saying something, considering the fire incident.”
I felt my mouth twitch toward a smile. “We agreed never to speak of the fire incident.”
“I’m making an exception.”
I squeezed her hand back. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Thank me when we’re not dead.”
The next morning, I checked on my mom before we left. She was awake, propped up against pillows, her breathing slightly easier after the half-dose of tonic I’d given her. The late morning light through the window made her skin pale and soft.
She’d always been beautiful, my mom. Her hair was the same pearly shade as my own, and just as long.
She wore hers long and flowing, while mine was usually braided away from my face.
Even now, with illness carving hollows beneath her cheekbones and exhaustion bruising the skin under her eyes, she reminded me of warm sunny days of happiness I hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“Where are you going?” she asked as I adjusted her blankets.
“Out. We need to talk to someone about Father’s case.”
Her fingers caught mine, surprisingly strong. “Juno. The Assembly doesn’t—“
“I know what they do and don’t do. I’m going anyway.”
“It’s not safe.”
“Nothing is safe. Not anymore.” I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Rest. Kora and I will handle this.”
“You’re so much like him,” she whispered. “Stubborn and reckless.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Her grip tightened for a moment, then released. “Be careful.”
“Always.”
It was a lie, and we both knew it.
Kora waited for me in the front room, already dressed for the street in dark trousers, a fitted jacket and cloak, and boots that looked casual but hid at least three concealed weapons. She’d braided her red hair back from her face.
“Ready?” she asked.
I touched the pendant beneath my shirt, feeling the anchor crystal’s familiar weight. “Not even a little bit.”
Gideon Pike’s establishment occupied a building in the Merchant Quarter that looked respectable from the outside, a three-story structure of gray stone with brass fixtures that gleamed in the morning light.
But I knew better. The real business happened below street level, in a network of rooms that connected to the Hollow Market tunnels.
We arrived just after dawn, when the streets were still quiet and most merchants were just opening their shops. Click rode in my satchel, his head poking out to watch the world with bright eyes. He’d learned long ago to stay hidden when we went somewhere dangerous.
“Last chance to back out,” Kora said as we approached the door.
“You backing out?”
“Not a chance.”
“Then neither am I.”
The door was answered by a woman who looked like she could snap both of us in half without breaking a sweat. Terra elemental, probably. She had the build for it, with broad shoulders, muscular arms visible beneath her rolled sleeves, a face that suggested she’d seen more than her share of fights.
“We’re here to see Gideon,” I said.
She looked us over with flat eyes. “He expecting you?”
I nodded. “Tell him Juno Farren wants to discuss that business opportunity.”
“Wait in the front room. Touch anything, and I break your fingers.”
“Charming,” Kora muttered as we passed.
The front room was exactly what I’d expected, expensive furniture that didn’t quite hide the fact that this was a place where deals were made and broken.
A large desk dominated one wall, its surface covered with papers and odd trinkets.
Crystal lamps provided soft light, and the walls were decorated with maps of various realms, some marked with notes in a cramped hand.
We didn’t have to wait long.
Gideon Pike entered through a side door, and I was struck by how ordinary he looked. Average height, average build, with brown hair going gray at the temples and a face that would disappear in any crowd. But his eyes were calculating, and when he smiled it didn’t reach them.
“Juno Farren.” He settled into the chair behind his desk, steepling his fingers. “I wondered when you’d come to me.”
I arched a brow. “You came to me.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Details.”
“I hear you have a job for us.”
“Ah. Directly to business. I appreciate that.” He leaned back in his chair, studying us. “I was made aware of your…predicament. But what makes you so sure you’ll be able to complete a run to Nytheris and back? You know what the penalty is for failure, I imagine. Why risk it?”
“Because you deal in impossible jobs, and I need impossible money.”