Read Return Online

Authors: A.M. Sexton

Tags: #gay, #fantasy, #steampunk, #alternate universe

Return (17 page)

BOOK: Return
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“Hey, mister,” the one in front said. “We got
somebody who wants a word.”

I had my knives. I could fight them, but I
hesitated. If their sole purpose was to scare me off, they would
have hauled me into an alley, bloodied my nose, and issued a
warning: come back, and it’ll be worse. Instead, they were telling
me their boss wanted to see me. Sure, there was a small chance it
was simply to kill me in a more private setting, but that seemed
extreme. After all, I was only lifting a few wallets. It was a far
cry from being a threat to any clan of substance. And this group
wasn’t run by a fool. I could tell that by watching them
work.

And, frankly, it seemed like a nice way to
alleviate my boredom.

“Lead the way,” I said.

They glanced at each other, surprised at my
easy compliance. “You armed?” the one in front of me
asked.

“Yes.”

He’d clearly expected me to deny it. He almost
smiled. “You planning on causing trouble?”

“Only if you are.”

“Keep your hands where we can see them and
we’ll call it good.”

They took me down a narrow alley, away from
the plaza. Sweat rolled down my back as we walked. After a block,
my guides stopped, and one pulled a strip of dark cloth from his
pocket. I’d been expecting this. I didn’t say a word as they
blindfolded me. Then one took my elbow, and they led
me….

Somewhere.

Despite my surety a few minutes earlier, I
began to fear I’d made a terrible mistake. I didn’t know my way
around Deliphine. They could be leading me anywhere. They could be
planning to kill me, and I’d never even see it coming.

Still, it seemed like a lot of trouble for
them to go to. They could have finished the job already and been on
to more interesting things if their orders were only to dispose of
me.

Eventually, they stopped. I heard a knock,
then a brief exchange of words in a language I didn’t know. I was
led inside. Down some stairs. Around a confusing number of corners.
Down more stairs. Wherever we were, it was comfortably cool. It was
worth having come with them just for the reprieve from the
heat.

We finally stopped, and the blindfold was
removed.

I was in a room unlike any I’d ever seen. It
was bigger than any bedroom or office, roughly twice the size of
the parlor at Talia’s whorehouse, but without the comforts. It
reminded me of the inside of the temples back home, except without
the pews. The floor was marble. The ceiling was high, covered in a
complex painting of twisted vines and flowers. Pillars stood along
the walls. Sitting square in the center at the far end, where I
half expected to see some kind of religious altar, was a simple
wooden desk. And behind that desk sat a woman.

I guessed her to be in her early fifties. In
many ways, she looked like a grandmother, with short, steel-grey
hair in tight curls around her head, and glasses perched on the end
of her short nose. She wore men’s clothes — trousers, sturdy work
boots, and a jade green vest underneath a burgundy jacket. But
unlike Frey, who wore men’s clothes to hide any hint of femininity,
this woman still struck me as female in every way. The clothes
seemed more a matter of practicality than anything.

“He’s carrying,” one of my escorts told her.
“Want us to fix that?”

She eyed me appraisingly. “Not yet.” Then, to
me, “Do you know who I am?”

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

“I’m Madame Babineau,” she said, her voice
strong and deep. “And you. You’re the young man who’s been working
my plaza.”

I glanced around the room. We weren’t alone. A
teenage girl stood a few feet behind Madame Babineau’s left
shoulder, unobtrusive, but observant. Four older boys surrounded us
— one to each side, and two flanking the door behind me. Younger
than me, but not small. My best bet was to be polite and agree to
whatever terms she was about to offer.

Assuming those terms didn’t involve me
disappearing into the river or leaving town without Ayo.

“I apologize,” I said to her. “I thought the
market was free game. There appeared to be at least two clans
working it.”

“Franklin’s boys,” she said, with obvious
scorn. “I have an arrangement with them.” She pointed a finger at
me. “But not with you.”

I ducked my head. “My mistake. Perhaps you can
tell me where there’s open ground.”

“You’re from Davlova.”

Not a question, but a statement. It brought me
up short. “How can you tell?” Because in this melting pot of a
city, my dark hair and skin wouldn’t have been enough to tip her
off.

“You said ‘clan.’ Here in Deliphine, we refer
to them as flocks, or companies. Or, in the case of those idiots up
past Clementine Bridge, ‘cabals.’” She leaned forward on her desk.
“Come a bit closer.”

I crossed to the midpoint of the room. Now
that I was nearer, I could see the slightest bit of amusement in
her eyes. That, and a great deal of intelligence and cunning. I
suspected this was not a woman I wanted to cross.

“Are you a free agent?” she asked. “Or do you
have a boss?”

I debated again, but only for a moment. I
couldn’t think of any reason to lie. Not here, halfway around the
world. “I answer to Anzhéla.”

Madame Babineau’s eyes went wide, then quickly
narrowed in suspicion. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her
arms over her chest. “Anzhéla’s name is well-known in certain
circles. Even here. How do I know you’re telling the
truth?”

“Because in circles where Anzhéla’s name might
be known, it’s unwise to lie about who your boss is.”

She barked out a laugh of approval. “Usually
that’s true. But now?” She held her hands open wide, smiling. “It
depends on how much you know about the state of things in
Davlova.”

“Nothing,” I admitted. “I haven’t heard
anything.”

“Were you there?”

I didn’t have to ask what she meant. “We left
that night.”

“On Anzhéla’s orders?”

“No. She’d been arrested. I went to…to find a
friend. Then the walls came down. The city caught fire. We had
access to a boat, so we took it.”

“Who is ‘we’?”

“Me, and two others.” I was intentionally
vague, but she let it go.

“Why come to Deliphine?”

“One of them has family here.”

“So you know nothing of what happened after
your Council was deposed?”

“No. I’ve been keeping my ears open, listening
on the street, but—”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Word is
slow, when it comes to what the public knows. Refugees have been
pouring in, but most of them haven’t a clue as to what happened
after the fire, and the official channels are well guarded.” She
smiled broadly. “But we’re not official. And we have far better
connections.” She leaned forward again, her gaze leveled on mine.
“Anzhéla’s alive, and doing fine.”

The relief of hearing those first two words
was almost overwhelming. I closed my eyes. Some enormous darkness
seemed to sink from my chest, down my legs, to evaporate into the
marble floor. It left me at once both exhausted and comforted.
“Thank the Goddess,” I whispered. I still didn’t know how to deal
with Ayo and his program, but at least one major worry had been
removed from my mind.

When I opened my eyes, I found Madame Babineau
still watching me, obviously weighing my reaction to her
announcement. I was immediately self-conscious of my behavior, but
it seemed I’d passed some kind of test.

She flicked her hand toward the door. “Go,”
she said. Not to me, I realized, but to the boys standing guard.
Then, as they turned to leave, she said to the girl behind her,
“Bring brandy. And some bread and cheese.” The girl hustled to do
her bidding, and Madame Babineau turned back to me. “You never told
me your name.”

“You never asked.”

She ducked her head in acquiescence. “Fair
enough. I’m asking now.”

“It’s Misha.”

“Misha. Most people around here call me Mama
B.” She gestured to the chair on my side of her desk. “Have a seat.
Let’s talk.”

The chair was hard and straight-backed, with
no cushion to soften it. I did my best to appear at ease, even if I
wasn’t quite ready to let down my guard. The immediate danger had
passed, but there was still plenty of room for error.

“A crazy thing, this revolution of yours,”
Mama B said while we waited for the girl to bring the food and
drinks. “Crazy, but overdue.”

I nodded, unsure what kind of response she
wanted.

“The mayors dead, the nobles who aren’t dead
in hiding, half the city flattened in the fire. Nobody seems to
know for sure what happened to Miguel Donato.”

“He’s dead too.”

“You know this for a fact?”

“I do.”

“Huh.” She nodded, accepting my word without
asking for details. I liked that. “I hear rumor of that guard
captain of yours too.”

“Benedict?”

“That’s the one. Word on the street is that
he’s in Deliphine, looking to set himself up as some kind of
aristocrat.”

“Benedict had few friends on either side of
the wall. It makes sense he’d leave.”

“And now your lower city rebels are attempting
to set up a new government. Calling themselves the Board of
Governors.”

“Only attempting?”

“Well, if I know anything about these types of
matters — and I like to think I do — I’d say your boss has a fight
on her hands. It was all well and good to let the women play when
the revolution was nothing more than rumors and grumbling, but now
that the dust’s settling and there’s real power to be had, it’ll be
time for those of us with cunts between our legs to scamper back to
the kitchens. Time we remembered our place.”

She watched me, waiting to see if I’d
challenge her. I didn’t know if what she said was accurate or not,
but I knew a thing or two about the woman who’d been my boss and my
protector for the last thirteen years. “Anzhéla won’t go
quietly.”

Mama B laughed appreciatively. “I’d be
disappointed if she did.”

The girl came back, a drink in each hand, and
a platter balanced on one arm. We waited in silence as she laid the
food on the table, then left the room. I took a sip of the liquor,
but only a small one. I’d never had brandy before, and I wasn’t
sure what to expect. It was smoother than the grain alcohol we
drank back home, but still burned all the way down.

“There’s more,” she said, as I took a second,
more generous drink. “They say the High Priestess has
returned.”

I nearly choked. I had to put the glass down
while I coughed, trying to clear the burn from my throat.
“What?”

She nodded, grinning, pleased at having shaken
me. “Some say she’s
the
High Priestess, returned from the
dead. Still others say she’s just one of the priestesses, appointed
to fill the role. Of course, no matter who I listen to, there’s
always a chance I’m being fed utter bullshit. You know how it
is.”

I nodded, wiping my eyes. I took a bigger
drink of brandy this time, trying to wash down the bitterness of
the last failed attempt at swallowing. “There were rumors for
months, and given the history, I suppose it makes sense for the
priestesses to be involved in the new government.”

“Yes. Especially one who’s risen from the
dead. What an inventive way to lead the sheep.”

She watched me, waiting for an answer. I
offered none.

She swirled her brandy in her glass, without
moving to take a drink. “So, Misha. Tell me why you’re here in
Deliphine, lifting wallets in my plaza.”

“I’m just trying to get by.”

“But why here?”

“Like I said, one of the men I was with has
family.”

“Yes, that’s why you came to Deliphine
initially. But why haven’t you gone back home? Unless you’ve fallen
out of grace with your boss?”

“Not as far as I know.”

“Have a price on your head?”

“No more than any other petty
thief.”

“Are you here on her orders?”

“No. My business is my own.”

She sighed, showing mild frustration for the
first time. “Do you intend to set up shop here? Start your own
company?”

“No. I assure you, I’ll leave as soon as I’m
able.”

“So what’s stopping you?”

I took a piece of cheese and chewed it slowly
while I debated my response. The trick was to be honest, but
without revealing too much. I considered mentioning the Dollhouse,
but rejected it. Either she wouldn’t believe me and I’d have
discredited myself, or she would, in which case, she might decide
to make a play for Ayo herself. After all, a Dollhouse slave was a
valuable commodity, and the last thing I wanted to do right now was
antagonize the steely-hearted Dollhouse bitch who’d drugged me and
forced me to divulge every secret I had. “One of the people I left
Davlova with was a slave,” I said finally. “Now that his owner is
dead, there’s some contention as to whether or not he’s free. There
are parties here in Deliphine who are reluctant to let him
go.”

BOOK: Return
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