Four Dead Queens(8)
Growing up by the sea, I loved to swim, but I had always hated sailing. Being short made it difficult to reach the mast and my small fingers were inept at tying knots. While my parents could walk the deck as though they were on dry land, I’d always been off balance. I couldn’t understand why they loved the seafaring life: the early rises, the bitter cold, and the tiring, relentless work for little return.
After a voyage, my parents would huddle by a fire—on the days we could afford it—and reminisce about the journey, while I would pray to the queens above for a storm to strike down the boat moored in the harbor. As I got older, I’d beg them to travel without me and would throw a tantrum if they insisted I come along.
For years, I didn’t know there was another way of life, a life I would enjoy, a life I’d thrive in. Then I met Mackiel.
I don’t remember much of my first visit to the auction house except the feeling. A tangible thrill ignited my body and senses. I didn’t steal anything, merely swept my hands across ladies’ bags and dipped into men’s pockets. But I could have taken something, and that was illuminating.
Mackiel found me later that night, sitting on the dock with my legs dangling below, my cheeks flushed with excitement despite the cold night. He introduced himself, offering his hand and a job.
I pushed back thoughts of my parents, my mother’s letter and the aching absence they’d left in my life. An absence I’d created the day I decided to follow Mackiel down a darker road. There was no turning back now.
Searching the auction house crowd, I wondered who would be the owner of my comm case and the chips inside, and what my cut would be. I imagined the flurry of bids it would ignite from those desperate for a glimpse into Eonist life and their technology. Like the other quadrants, Torians weren’t allowed to use most technologies from Eonia, for fear that it would alter our society. But that didn’t stop us from wanting a taste.
And that was exactly what the chips would allow. All you had to do was place the comm chip on your tongue and your senses would be transported to another time and place. A memory, which would feel like your own. A message from another life.
Mackiel was standing in the stalls crudely erected into one side of the building. Since his father’s death, Mackiel had added a heavy red curtain to conceal the wares from the crowd, the auction house now looking more like a Ludist theater than a warehouse. Just the way Mackiel liked it, preferring the spectacle of life.
Mackiel saved the seats in the stalls for “valued patrons,” those too proper to sully their clothing by mingling down with the commoners. He ushered a girl with a large royal blue bonnet to her seat, one hand on her velvet-clad arm, the other to tilt his hat toward her. She looked up at him. Even from here, I could see her sickening, adoring expression. I looked away as Mackiel glanced in my direction, not wanting him to see the jealousy heat my face.
“Move,” Kyrin said, elbowing me. “My wares are up first.”
I happily stepped aside; his breath preceded him by at least ten feet. His sandy blond hair was stuck up in odd directions, as though he’d been trying to imitate the current trend in Ludia. It looked ridiculous on him. We dippers traditionally wore conservative clothes and attire, allowing us to blend into our surroundings.
“Still stealing watches?” I asked. Unfortunately for Kyrin, his tall stature made him stand out, no matter what he tried. Although, I hated to admit, his deft long fingers could unclasp watch fasteners in seconds, the owner none the wiser. “How long does that make it now? Five years?”
“Shut it, Keralie,” he bit back.
I shrugged, tucking a stray lock behind my ear. “It’s all right. Give it a few more years, and you’ll get there. You see this?” I held out my wrist and jingled my new locket at him, a sign of moving up the ranks in Mackiel’s crew. “Want a closer look? It might give you some inspiration.” Kyrin’s leather cuff had only two charms to keep each other company, while I had struggled to find room for my latest success. My parents used to argue that sailing was in my blood, but they’d never seen how I could take a woman’s bag from her shoulder or the glasses right off a man’s nose. Thieving was in my blood.
“I don’t need your kind of inspiration.” Kyrin pushed my arm out of the way. “Not all of us are willing to wet Mackiel’s whistle as you do.”
“I do nothing but my job!” I’d raised my clenched fist before I’d thought about my next move.
Kyrin didn’t flinch. “Right. You think we’re blind?” He gestured to the dippers watching with interest behind him. “You get all the best jobs.”
“Because I am the best.”
“The best at sucking his—”
I lurched forward, my fist about to slam into his face, but I was jerked back at the last second by a hand covered in rings from nail to knuckle.
“What’s going on here?” Mackiel asked, his eyes flashing between us, his full mouth pulled up at one side.
“Nothing,” I replied, swallowing down my anger. I didn’t want to discuss the rumors spreading about Mackiel and me until I knew where we stood. “I was just hearing about the gorgeous Ludist watch Kyrin acquired today.” I gave Kyrin a sweet smile.
Mackiel grinned at me. “Is that so?” He tapped my dimpled cheek. “Sweet.” Tap. “Little.” Tap. “Kera.” Tap.