Wind flowers, p.13
Wind Flowers, page 13
“Pretty impressive for some lowlife thieves, ey?” Ren hopped up and straddled the middle bench, tucking both hands to his hips as a triumphant smile stretched across his face.
I nodded, admiring the craftsmanship, running a finger across the cold structure. “Pretty impressive for a bunch of kids with no formal schooling. Where do you learn to use your Easinir like this?”
Ren beamed, like I’d just told him he’d won a million gold pieces. A reminder that he was still young, maybe eighteen at the oldest, desperate for praise. For a place. “Shin taught us a lot, and sometimes the prostitutes at Madame Tsojo’s brothel helped.”
My head snapped up faster than I wanted it to.
“Oh.” My face heated scarlet, the mention of such an establishment sending a flurry of worries through my head as I again noted their ages.
I supposed that also meant that I wasn’t the only girl Shin toyed with. Figures. He’d learned his tricks from the best liars and flirts in all of Babylon.
“Ignore him, he’s bluffing. The girls at Tsojo’s don’t give him the time of day.” Riku crossed his arms, a long eyeroll the first sign of any emotion from him. Strange, how different two people wearing the same face could be. If Ren was all smiles and bids for affection, Riku was his antithesis, cold and sharp and reserved.
“He likes attention,” Aya giggled as she slowly climbed onto the front bench.
“Only because my sweet Aya never gives me any.” Ren tickled her side, sparking a fresh wave of breathless laughter from the slight girl.
Despite myself, I bit back a chuckle, too.
Naveen jumped in next and patted the seat next to him and Aya. “Princess, you can sit here. We’ll wait for the others’ signal.”
Reality slammed back into me, the sweet excursion in my mind coming to an abrupt end.
This was not the first day of school, not a place to make new friends, even if they were just a bunch of charming, lost children who needed a home.
No, I was on the run, in a city that ate naive girls like me for breakfast, the weight of two powerful kingdoms’ forces at our backs.
And I was choosing to go with these young miscreants, to dive deeper into the unknown. To refute the safety of people I trusted for a chance at something else. Something more.
What would Nikolaj do?
“The princesses will be okay?” I gnawed my lip as I stared at Naveen, desperate for confirmation. For some kind of sign that I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my life.
Instead, a different signal boomed, and any words that he might have placated me with drowned in the blast.
The ground shook, toppling me into the sleigh. I caught myself on the ice, palms stinging as they cut open. But I hissed and ignored it, turning toward the thunderous crackling—
The balloon floated high in the sky, silhouetted in a strange gold glow…
Fire.
Even from blocks away, I watched as it consumed everything, the whole domed structure trapped in the riotous flames’ hungry jaws…
For the second time in my life, I watched as Hiku City Opera burned.
“Naria! Hana!” I cried, stumbling back toward the crumbling building, the fire casting the world in jealous, consuming orange and red.
My breath snagged in my lungs.
The princesses were over there. Hana was over there, possibly hurt—
Pale skin, blistered and charred to black.
Light; blinding, searing.
Eyes wide with terror, mouths set in disgusted frowns.
I screamed again, dizzy as I imagined them trapped in the smoke, in the debris…
“Shh, it’s okay.” Strong arms wrapped around my middle, tugging me back toward the sleigh, away from the radiating heat. A voice like night murmured against my hair, “They’re fine, Irina, they’re fine.”
I twisted, pushing away, but green-tea-and-honey eyes settled me as his stare locked on mine.
“He’s okay!” Gasps of relief.
A voice like a bright violin. “Thank you. Are you a fairy?”
“Irina, breathe.” Shin’s grip loosened, but he did not let go, his fingers at my waist anchoring me to my body. “Naria’s a Pyromental, yes? A full Controller. She can’t get hurt there. And Hana will likely chase that balloon. I promise, they are okay.”
My breath returned to my chest, heavy and fast and all at once. “You should have warned me,” I panted between shaking heaves.
But the air blew away my panic with every inhale I devoured, my heart slowing again to a steady rhythm. Shin’s gaze didn’t leave mine.
“Add it to the list of things I need to apologize for.” His cheek dimpled and he let go of me. “We needed distractions to keep them busy.”
“That was fun.” Kas bounded up next to us, soot and ash darkening his features, but his smile was all sunshine.
Shin ruffled his hair, “You did good, kid.”
“You could’ve been killed in that fire!” I stammered, imagining Kas’s tiny face devoured by the incessant flames…
Someone help!
He’s just a boy!
“But we weren’t.” Shin shrugged, that same annoying grin unshakable from his face.
I opened my mouth to rebuttal, but he climbed onto the back of the sleigh, Kas scurrying to the front. Shin turned to add over his shoulder, “Come on, Princess, before our chariot melts.”
My body and mind warred, danger still licking waves of fear over my spine.
These were not ordinary people. Not even ordinary thieves. No, these daredevils were kidnappers and arsonists, no sensibility or rationale among them.
But perhaps I had no sense, either. Because only one thought still remained, the others dusting to ash like the Opera House at my back.
What would Nikolaj do?
I plopped next to Shin without another word, tucking my arms tight around my center.
Aya smiled from the front row, a knowing twinkling in her stare, and Ren exhaled a quiet yes!
“Let’s go, before they catch on.” Malina’s voice sobered everyone as she catapulted from a nearby rooftop, gingerly landing on two feet. She slipped gracefully onto the front of the sleigh, her curls a tangle of whatever madness she’d gotten into.
Perhaps Naveen had been right before.
I was so screwed.
Shin’s grin widened as he lifted his arms. “Everyone, hang on!”
And then, for the second time since I’d met Shin, we flew into the night.
Twelve
SHIN
A far tamer fire crackled in the hearth at Madame Tsojo’s brothel as my crew gathered at the front desk, the painted face of the matron herself narrowed at us in an accusatory glare.
I brushed on my sincerest smile—one Tsojo loved, even if she refused to admit it out loud. “Thanks for taking us in for the night, Madame Tsojo.”
She leaned over the counter, her corseted breasts nearly spilling from the deep ‘v’ of her crimson dress, but the way the fire glowed in her pitch-colored eyes stayed any naughty thoughts with searing fear. “I swear by the Breath, if this gets me or my girls in trouble, I’ll hang you myself.”
She meant it.
But I was out of options. Madame Aheni’s den was a no-go, since the Nehirite princeling had spotted me there before and knew of my connection with the old tornado of a woman.
Which meant I had to endure the oppressive heat of the brothel’s shadowy walls, the symphony of moans hardly decent for my crew of teenagers, never mind the Princess of Dunyas. But the girls here were kind, always looking after me, and Tsojo had clothed Aya and I back when we were truly living on the streets; often with things patrons had left behind, or scraps the girls had grown out of or…stained…beyond use. Either way, it was a kindness I’d never forget.
And that I always repaid with interest.
Shin Koishi did not like unpaid debts.
“Good thing everyone here is known for discretion, yeah?” I flipped a gold mark from my pocket and tossed it onto the table. It was the last of Ecei’s upfront payment—something I’d hoped to save for an inn or better transportation to our next stop. But if the wind had taught me anything, it was that silence was priceless.
Tsojo tucked the shimmering coin into her ample cleavage, but her rouged lips still pursed. “Don’t push your luck just because I like you, boy.”
If this was what liking me looked like, I dared not tempt her fury.
“You know you’re my favorite, too, right?” I propped an elbow on the counter and leaned my face into my hand, waggling my brows at her. “Just don’t tell Madame Aheni, she gets jealous.”
“Sweet talker.” She cracked a small grin, and I took it as a sign of victory. “You’ve learned too much from the girls here.”
She was right, again.
This city had taught me everything I knew, the girls that worked for her not excluded. They’d mastered the art of flattery and deception, the fine dance between truth and temptation, and I’d reaped as much as I could from watching them work.
Wicked or willful, I knew I could do this, too.
I sucked in a breath, letting it soothe the tangle of nerves that still wrenched in my gut. My crew needed this to go right, but so did Tsojo and her girls. Everyone that touched this ticking bomb risked it blowing up in their faces, and I had a duty to ensure that it was Ecei that received the brunt of the blast.
I slipped the letter from my pocket—the scrap small, but a key to my victory—and pushed it toward Tsojo. “By the way, if some high-paying customers come looking around these parts tomorrow, give them this.”
Tsojo’s eyes flicked to the unassuming parchment—adorned with my chicken scrawl handwriting simply detailing a location with little context—then back up to me. Her voice hedged on a razor’s edge. “No trouble?”
I couldn’t lie to the woman who’d written the rulebook on it, so instead, I offered a separate truth. “None I haven’t risked for your girls.” I fiddled with my soot-covered clothes, but kept my expression cool as I pressed my leverage. “Is Via feeling better?”
I hated to use my friend to my benefit, but I didn’t have a choice. I hadn’t helped Via last year so I could get something out of it. When she’d shown up at Madame Aheni’s one night, her body bruised and broken in ways that’d shattered things in me, too, trembling in pure fear and a primal rage, I swore I’d help her no matter what. No one deserved to be taken advantage of like she had; and though I’d never caught the Nehirite prick that’d defiled her, when she’d needed a place to lay low for a bit—a place to wait for the baby to come—all of us Lost Ones had happily opened the Treehouse to her.
Tsojo had been able to keep her business’s reputation intact because of that, too. None of the other girls had to be afraid with Naveen acting as a bouncer three nights a week, and Via had a safe place to heal—body and soul—with Tsojo’s clientele none-the-wiser.
Tsojo’s expression softened, flames fading to embers. “She’s doing real well.” Her throat bobbed—Tsojo’s love for her girls was her one humbling trait. She sighed, grabbing a key off the wall and tossing it to me. “Upstairs, room all the way in the back. But only one, and you’ll have to share.”
Ren sauntered closer, smoothing out his shoulder-length hair, overhearing our exchange, “I could always stay in Kalla’s room…”
Tsojo erupted, a finger pointed at his most valuable bits. “I’ll have your itsy-bitsy pecker sliced off and hung from the rafters like mistletoe by morning if I see you creeping near her again.”
“Fine,” Ren grumbled, but I smacked him over the head anyway for good measure.
I stuffed the key in my pocket before Tsojo could rescind her generous offer, flashing my brightest smile again. “We’ll be no trouble.”
I pushed Ren up the stairs, the rest of the Lost Ones following on my heels. It was a Breath-blessing that Riku preferred male company, because it would’ve been impossible to keep an eye on both of the slippery idiots in a place like this. I tried to keep my expression neutral as the chorus of fleshy slapping sounds and wet grunts echoed through the long hall. Mal covered Kas’s ears, and a bright red blush chased the gray from Aya’s skin-color.
It was the longest hallway I’d ever been down in my life, especially with the Princess’s gaze burning holes through the back of my already-ashen shirt.
“Here we go,” I said as I quickly fit the key through the slot in the door, turning it open. The scent of must and regret smacked me as the hinges creaked open, and a room just larger than a closet greeted me. In the center, a single bed wore threadbare white sheets, dark curtains blotting out the light from the single window. Holding my breath, I walked in and flung them open—to reveal the dazzling horizon of a brick wall facing us.
Silence was priceless, but this was a punishment, not a favor.
I painted on a smile. “Nice and cozy.”
The others filed in, the air even more claustrophobic as our body heat radiated through the small space. Irina folded her arms around her middle, swallowing hard. “We’re all staying in this room? Together?”
“Not the luxury accommodations you’re used to?” Malina scoffed, but even she wore a frown as she took in the space.
Something prickled along my spine as Irina winced, her eyes downcast.
“Malina, you can always sleep outside.” I cleared my throat—knowing that I’d likely do just that, the bitter air of the chilled night a welcomed friend after even just moments in this coffin. I ran my hand through my hair, shame sloshing in my gut. This was not how this was supposed to go. “Sorry, Princess, but we did just burn down our own home, so we’re a bit put out, too.”
The Lost Ones all shifted on their feet, the uncomfortable truth finally catching up with us. Even after we finished this mission, we’d have to use Ecei’s money to find a new Treehouse. A new place to belong.
Aya’s gaze found mine, watery and bright.
It’d been a while since we were truly lost.
But we’d start again, somehow. We always did.
“It’s like a slumber party?” Kas offered sheepishly, one leg twitching with renewed anxiety. But he smiled at the Princess, and her shoulders loosened.
“You can stay next to me, Irina.” Aya linked arms with her.
“And far away from Ren, if you know what’s good for you,” Naveen snickered, tossing Ren’s hair, auburn strands sticking up at distressing angles.
The boy just shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a cuddler.”
“I’ve been trying to escape since the womb.” His twin rolled his eyes, plopping onto the dusty bed with a heavy sigh.
“Did Riku just crack a joke?” Kas chuckled, wide-eyed as he joined our normally icy friend on the edge of the bed.
The very corner of Riku’s mouth tilted up. “It’s been a long night. I’m in a mood.”
Something in my chest shattered, then reforged, warmed and welded together by my family’s love.
We would start again. We always did, always would.
Together.
And that made me the richest, luckiest man in the four kingdoms.
I did not have to fake my smile this time as I leaned back against the windowsill. “Anyone else hungry?”
Naveen stretched, long limbs brushing against the low ceiling. “I could eat.”
“You just want to ogle the ladies downstairs.” Malina whacked his arm, and my giant friend cringed away. But she didn’t manage to knock his grin from his face.
He raised a brow, a challenge to the fire-pixie. “They ogle me right back. It’s mutual ogle-ry.”
Aya blushed again, and I couldn’t help the chuckle that wound up from my chest, light and sweet as a summer wind. We were in shit deeper than the Black River was long. We had not one, not two, but three separate kingdoms on our tail, and only one tenuous alliance in our pocket. We were homeless. Penniless. Plan-less.
But we’d endure. We’d start again.
I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, then hopped up, ready to lead us into whatever chapter came next. “Let’s go get some food, but we stay in the kitchens. No mingling with patrons.”
The others were already shuffling out the door, Ren and Naveen leading the charge despite my warning, when a small voice stole the air from my inflated chest.
“I think I’ll stay.” Irina withdrew, facing the cobwebbed corner. Her back was to me, hiding her expression, but the hitch to her voice was all the information I needed to know that if I could see more, I’d find tears. “I’m not hungry.”
The others went quiet, exchanging looks and passing the baton, a silent war of ‘not my problem’ raging between them.
Aya glared at me, and I lost the game before I’d even started playing.
“Why don’t you stay with her then, Shin?” There was a bite of poison behind her flower-sweet voice. “I’ll bring you both something back.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she bounced out the door and shut it firmly behind her, leaving Irina and I alone in the room.
Her message was clear, no code needed to decipher.
Fix your mess.
I sighed, but the air was stale and tight in my chest, an anxiety I thought I’d eradicated from my life in boyhood. Even with fewer bodies in the space, I’d never felt more cramped.
Slim slivers of moonlight managed to work their way through the dingy window, casting Irina’s dark skin in a sheen of silver. The plain gray cloak we’d given her wrapped tightly around her shoulders—like if she removed it, she’d unravel too. But the hem of her pink dress—torn and dirty as it was—peeked from beneath, dusting against the wood floor.
A faint reminder.
She didn’t belong here. I’d taken her from the finery she’d known and shoved her into this hovel for my own gain.
I stared to the floorboards, my guilt a blindfold I couldn’t look past, as a long, awkward silence stretched between us. But I had no idea what to say—what to do to make it right.
Fix your mess.
“Ecei has a treatment for the Blight, doesn’t she?” Irina spoke first, voice hollow.
