Cannibal Kings - A Dark Coming of Age Fantasy

ASAIO

An odd warmth fills my chest.

We could die. It’s happened before. Multiple times. I remember each one clear as the sea, can still feel their faces beneath my fingers, the shadows of ghost hands and the warmth of their skin beneath my lips. Some Moons, I wake up in the cot I share with Seht and Ellie-Darlin, and I ain’t sure if I’m holdin a ghost.

But, still. That single nod of confirmation. As we’re bout to move as a unit. It’s exhiliaratin. It’s beautiful. It’s what makes gangs like the Rubies or Lime Men so attractive.

Vernon makes the first move, extendin his limbs and wrappin them round the licker’s head. It’s a crazy sight and somethin that most ain’t seen before. Problem is, when his limbs are extended like that, he says he feels a pain so blisterin it's hard to focus, makin it a hell of a lot easier for someone to get a shot at him. Still, he grabs that man and he chokes him.

The licker’s better, though. He kicks at Vernon’s knees and swings him onto the ground.

Another licker grabs at Mustletop and Genavieve, who work together to keep the assailants away, but Mustletop, with his large stature, does most of the work. Genavieve was only blessed with an extra finger, along with chronic back pain.

Shimmy turns to run in the other direction. He flips out his cloak, where vials hang on a belt. He’s able to conjure up poisonous spit, but at such little quantities that it’s useless on its own. However, smart as he is, he came up with the idea of creatin his own poisonous vials, as his poision can disintegrate skin. He launches them at the lickers that attack Genevieve and Mustle.

“We should help,” Ellie-Darlin says.

“Yeah,” I say.

I don’t want to tire myself too much, though, cause I’m dead useless if I faint before we can exit, and I definitely don’t want the lickers to get me again. But I’d much rather than any of my family be taken away. Our time is limited as it is.

“I’ll stay up here,” I say. “Go.”

I watch as Kim slips between the legs of two lickers and a Ruby, grabs the balls of the larger one, and drags him down. Even though he’s the youngest, he’s ferocious. The Moon we found him half-dead in that sewer, we knew he was a fighter, whether it’d been a self-inflicted attack or not.

It’s hard to keep track of everyone. I don’t know where ELlie Darlin’s leapt off to cause Yaselle’s bUgs are still tryin to track down the remainin Five Pitters, who are tryin to get into their coaches and high-tail it. The Rubies, who seem to be on the side of the Pitters, try to stop em. Punches and bullets and blood. Lots and lots of blood. No one’s close enough to my hidin spot, so I start walkin round the roof, tryin to find a better position to extend my branches.

Suddenly, an arrow hits the back of one of the men clawin at Genavieve and Mustletop.

I look over and try to spot him. Nothin. Just as well.

On the Damaskragan red ship, the crew frantically screams at one another. The ship burnin next to is nearly half-drowned in the sea. I try to look out for Crass and the others, but I can’t make out anythin through the travelin smoke.I cough into my sleeve and raise my hands, callin upon the whispers of the branches and leaves beside me.

Some of them are more plague-ridden than others. Those are harder to speak to , the closer they sway towards death. They fight me, spasmin against my mind, sendin waves of pain and frustration that can be enough to cause a blackout into my bones, as though to say, This is what it feels like to be plague-ridden. This is what it’s like to lose control.

I want to block off the litters, to keep them away from the other docks and from the edge of Harbor Street, but how?

Yaselle yells for the Pitters to disappear, from atop one of the check-in buildins. I have no clue when she got up there. Any men that venture towards her are brusquely met with her parasol, jabbed into eyes and mouths and then slit by a knife. She laughs when she does it, and so do her Bugs. The Pitters stand no chance against a woman like that. Once her gang and the Rubies ain’t distracted anymore, they’ll focus way too much on us. That warm feelin in my chest grows to be a sea of calm. Fights are all too familiar, and so I’ve learned to keep from panickin. Instead, I shut down the part of my brain that sees people as people and take out my enemies one root at a time, drownin them beneath pounds of timber.

“Aye, get out of here kids! I’m not gonna stop the lickers from takin you!” Yaselle yells. She turns to shout at the rest of her Bugs that are in pursuit of the fleein Pitters. “Let them go! Let them go!”

She turns to one of the Rubies. He has decorated his face to highlight the moldin black skin and growths on his cheek. She uses her parasol to puncture one of his warts, causin him to scream out, and says, “You and I. “We’re going to have a chat, sweetie.”

“Just let us—” Vernon tries. One of the lickers grabs him at the back and yanks his elongated arm. I hear a sickenin crack. I ain’t sure if it’s his bones or the shackles the licker thrusts from his pockets.

Shimmy runs to cover Vernon’s back while I finally catch sight of Ellie-Darlin again. She runs towards the water’s edge, through the smoke. She drops in a skid at the front of the docks and hauls Crimson, who carries three boxes on his back, out of the ocean.

That group was supposed to come through the black, but they can’t with the port burnin up. Even from here, I can see the tears on Ellie-Darlin’s face as she fights the bickerin flames. She throws her cloak at a nearby sprout and screams incoherently. Black blood drips from her nose and, when she takes a moment’s pause for rest, her entire body slumps face-first into the wooden port. Crimson screams, “Get up! Get up! Are you stupid!”

I wave half the branches into a bridge that will open up once Crimson makes it over to the wall. I send another branch to yank back the licker that’s got Vernon. Vernon’s been shot with a musket, and this licker has the body to my friend’s head. The branch don’t reach him, but the slitherin timber trips a Ruby. I wrap the branch round the Ruby’s angle and throw him into Vernon adn the licker.

“What the fuck was that?” the Ruby cries. The plague on his back is decorated with jewels and exposed by a lack of coverin.

“Go, go, go!” Ellie-Darlin yells to Crimson, pointin in my direction. He has to dodge the nippin edges of flame to get to me. Crass is almost at the dock. A guy on the red ship points a gun at them.

“Gun!” I yell, and I click the warnin signs, cause that’s louder than my voice.

An arrow whizzes over Ellie-Darlin’s head. She drops to the ground and Crass leaps back into the ocean for cover.

As Crimson makes his way, I command the branches to wrap round his waist and haul him onto the rooftop. At the same time, I send another at a remainin licker that runs towards Ellie-Darlin, catchin his musket and then his foot. I swing him against the side of a check-in buildin, effectively smashin the wooden stall.

A couple of Rubies and Bugs glance round, tryin to find out why a tree moves on its own violation. I tighten up the brush that keeps Crimson and I out of sight as he falls to my side, the huge boxes strapped to his back. He shakes and buckles beneath the weight, but adrenaline keeps him from collapsin.

“Should I go?” he asks.

“What? Yes, you should go!”

“Fuck,” he curses, and skids cross the rooftop.

Two lickers pound at Genavieve. I’m not close enough to help em and Ellie Darlin’s already sendin Ana my way, who has four similar boxes tied to her back.

“They’re stealing something!” one Ruby yells.

“Leave them. They’re just kids,” Yaselle snarls.

More builts rain down from the red ship.

“You bitch,” a different Ruby snaps. “Just kids? That ship’s the Tinkerer’s!”

“Your score isn’t settled,” the first Ruby says. “You said you’d get Heish from the Pitters, no matter the outcome.”

“I don’t know where he is. He’s probably off with the civilians, Mister Boy.”

The Ruby grabs her by the neck. “You listen here, woman—”

I send our branches to haul up Ana. Unlike Crimson, she runs past me and the path I’ve cleared without a word.

Vip and Ellie-Darlin drag a passed-out Crass from the depths of the blue seas. Both Crass and Vip have boxes tied to their backs, and it slows them down a lot. Two bullets hit Vip square in the shoulders.

I extend my branches as far as they are able. I step out from my hidin spot and try to lift Crass and Vip off the ground, but it ain’t any use. The more I whisper to the trees, the more their energy saps my own, and I fall to my knees. It’s too much for me to stand. My ears ring and I feel several of my external limbs slip away.

Yaselle looks over at me from her own rooftop. Legs away, we stand at the highest points of the battle; my cloak of black and her veil of white.

Mustletop hauls Genavieve and Kim away, kickin a licker in the stomach. All three leave a trail of blood, and a desperate civilian who was unfortunately caught in the crossfire crawls out to drink it, sobbin. Mustletop uses his thick skin and the extra layer of protective scales moldin beneath his cloak as a shield for the other two.

Vernon makes a break for it. The lickers run at all four of em. Black spots dot my vision, so it’s like time happens in fragments flashes of moments; not a continuous momentum.

A licker catches Kim by the foot. An electrifier to the thigh. Kim screamin, foully, and Mustletop throwin himself onto the licker. Kim rolls out from beneath the heap, unconscious. Mustletop pickin him up. That group runnin towards Harbor Street, where the civilians were shoved off to.

Once they are close enough, I send branches to pick up Crass, Ellie-Darlin, and Vip. They make a break for it behind me while I seal off our exit.

The bullets from the red ship trail them. They travel farther than any of the licker’s muskets do. The muskets are probably less than a fifth of the distance that ship is, and yet the bullets from the Damaskragan red ship nip Genaveive’s heel. Coaches zoom past them, the coaches of the Pitters. They barrel into Vernon on purpose. They run into civilian lines and snatch up young women and children, who scream defenselessly. With the Rubies preoccupied, there is no one to guard the harbor as usual.

I look round for Shimmy and Asher, but all I see are remainin Rubies and Bugs, and at least twelve desecrated bodies. One is headless.

“Shimmy! Asher!” I yell. When I get no response, I curse. Suddenly, the barricade I’ve made round the harbor collapses. I can’t find the energy to sustain it, and it all happens in an extremely dramatic manner, as though I’ve summoned a rumble. Some of the trees fall into the ocean, slumped over, like they’ve been drained of life too.

“Are the Pure Ones here?” someone yells. “What’s going on?”

“What the hell!” I hear. “That kid! He’s doin it!”

“I have her!” Back towards the alley that Shimmy and Mustle had blocked off with the crates, Asher stands with a limp Shimmy in his arms; his face black and blue but no worse for wear. He sounds much farther than he is. “Asaio!”

I nod and try to close up the blockade that covers this entrance. Dozens of more men run at me. I don’t know where they came from. The whispers grow so loud they destroy the rest of my hearin. Black spots come in drones.

No, no, no. I look back to where the others had scattered off the rooftop and into the heart of the City. They’re dozens upon dozens of legs away now, too far to help me. Stay awake, stay awake, stay awake.

I give up on tryin to cover my track and run, slippin a few times as my balance fails me. Coughs sputter through my chest as my body finally registers the smoke I’ve inhaled. I only make it a few legs when I slip down a near vertical rain gutter. I gasp. I try to claw at the wooden shingles of the roof, splinterin pain coursin through my fingers.

“Aah!” I gasp as my hold weakens.

Suddenly, a cold hand grips my arm and hauls me up.

I know immediately this hand is too cold and wrinkly to be one of the Garnets. This figure hauls me onto the rooftop and holds me against her chest.

Yaselle, one of the Yaselles, breathes against me. She wears a dark brown dress and a silver laurel beneath her black skin coat. It beckson in the wind. It reeks of blood.

I try to release myself from her grip and bolt in the direction of my family. I send a few branches over the rooftop to shackle her legs. It takes me nearly screamin, orally, at the branches for them to comply. I’m so damn tired that they don’t hold her for more than a second. More dots flash my vision, to the point where I am nearly half-blind.

I try to run again, but somethin hooks onto my shoulder. It’s the end of her parasol. She yanks me backwards, so that I land on my backside.

“Asaio,” she says. “That’s your name. You’re going to come with me.”

I have a branch whack her in the head. To my surprise, she laughs at me. She starts to talk, but I can’t hear a word.

Then I black out completely.

***

I wake up tied to a chair. My wrists are bound together with metal chains, real old ones. It ain’t uncommon for families to have these lyin round, cause that’s how you keep back a plague-ridden man from killin you in your sleep, but I ain’t plague-ridden. I ain’t even got the plague. My legs are bound to the legs of the chair and my arms are bount to he sides. Another is wrapped round my chest, which is now bare and cold. There’re even shackles that keep the chain to the ground.

Ain’t the first time somethin like this has happened to me. We got into a real bad fight with some other gang of street kids while there was a shortage of wheat crop over a loaf of bread and they’d taken Vernon and I for ransom. Not very well—they weren’t much brighter than ourselves—but still. Even further than that, workin with Seran: I’d been an actor and some loafer, ironically, liked my performance so much he’d try to buy for me. Seran wouldn’t let him so he tried to chuck me into his carriage, dark like this room.

Still, I hate it. I hate bein separated—if I am separated at all. Who knows if she caught any of my friends in the next room? But there’s no good in panickin.

I struggle against the chains. They’re so rusted they look like they can snap, but they’re sturdier than they seem. The chains are locked together, but I’d never been a good pick. Most of the doors in our nieghborhoods ain’t got doors to lock, so there’s no use.

In front of me, a door.

As if knowin I’ve woken up by some sixth sense, it swings open, revealin Yaselle. She has not changed but the blood strains are dry on that skin dress so I must have been out for a while.

“I had to get my hands on you before the Rubies could.”

I can’t tell where I am. The walls ain't made of wood or anythin. It’s all gray. Stone, I think, and utterly dark except for a single shroomlamp.

“My Bugs said they’ve seen you and your friends before, Asaio,” she says. Somethin bout the way this Yaselle feels different than the one at the docks. And, I might be imaginin it, but I think she’s shorter too. “Street rats that steal from our coffers sometimes, or sometimes you pull pranks on tourists. Not anything recently. You’ve been hiding, keeping to yourselves. I often do not mind because you are just kids. But you’re not just a kid, are you, Asaio? You’ve flown under the radar all this time.”

Did Asher and Shimmy make it out? What bout Mustletop and Kim and Genavieve? What if she’s got all the Garnets?

“Is it just me?” I say.

“What?”

“Did you only take me?”

She cocks her head. She wears a thin white veil over her face. “Yes. It’s only you, Asaio.”

I don’t know if I believe her or not. I should have really been payin more attention to Venron’s talks and presentations with his less-than-adequate ‘files’ on other gang leaders in the City. The Rubies, they’re violent. They’re ruthless. But control don’t come from just violence. Control can be tellin the truth ninety percent of the time, so no one notices that ten percent.

Yaselle saved all those innocent lives. It’s clear she ain’t like them Rubies.

“I promise,” she says, as if she can read my mind.

“What do you want from me?”

“I want to have a conversation, Asaio. I’m sorry about the shackles, by the way. I would have loved to have a more… civil discussion, but I can’t be too careful with someone like you.”

Someone like me? I’d understand if I were big like Mustletop, maybe, or skilled with a weapon, like Asher. But I ain’t. So this is about my tree-whisperin.

We all knew that, some Moon, someone would realize I ain’t quite natural, that the plague don’t touch me. I should have worn my mask at the harbor and kept my face hidden. But that wouldn’t have mattered. She would have caught me anyway.

Still, I deflect. “I think you’re overestimatin me.”

“Your eyes,” she murmurs, leanin forward. “I’ve never seen eyes like yours.”

“The two colors really ain’t the miracle everyone treats them like, lady.”

“Such a deformed face.”

“Well, damn.”

“Do you know what you are, Asaio?”

“That’s real ominous.”

“So, no,” she says. “That’s surprising. At least one of your friends should have realized by now. Or maybe they have and—”

“Realize what, lady? I don’t like it when people ain’t just direct.”

“I believe,” she says slowly, “that you are an anomaly, Asaio. You were controlling the trees, yes? And”--she pokes my chest—”you show no sign of the plague. Do you know fo the Rivera Prophecies?”

“I mean, yeah, I’ve heard of em. I don’t know em by heart.”

The Rivera Prophecies are the ones that say there can only be three Enlighteneds at one time, who’ve died and be rebirthed as near gods. One representin Kirill. One representin Gerasim. And one representin the eight moons. Right now, all three are supposed to be livin in that fancy stone capital next door.

Instantly, I understand her meanin. “No way,” I say. “Nuh-uh.”

“Each has a power gifted to them from the Sun or Moons,” she says. “Different than any of our gifts. For us, our gifts are always an extension of our Souls. Strong legs, strong arms, good hearing, elongated limbs—that is one I have yet to see, Asaio. I was surprised by your friend. Yet, you. You are an anomaly. The Enlighteneds harness the Sun. Harness the ocean waves. Harness the winds with just a thought. Control our environments without even touching them.”

“I—”

“I think you’re an anomaly.” She smiles, but it’s an unnatural smile, like her face wasn’t built for it and she’s learned to move those muscles by observin others. “If you are here, has an Enlightened in the Fortress died? But you have been like this all your life, haven’t you, Asaio?”

“Yeah,” is all I say.

I remember the Moon that Sans and Isaela found out I could do this. Sans had grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me into her apothecary. “Did your orphanage know?” she demanded. “Have you shown people? Who have you shown?” Then she leaned down, ensurin we were eye-to-eye, and whispered, “This is no gift, Asaio. You’re so young… don’t let the lickers find out about this. They will hurt you. Isaela, you tell no one, you hear me? You tell no one.”

Of course, I’ve had to tell the other Garnets. But if they’ve ever had their suspicions bout this, then they ain’t said anythin to me.

“Whether it be that an Enlightened has died or the prophecies are wrong, you are likely the only Soul in all of Mecraentos that is destined to live a long, long life, Asaio. Your mind will stay Pure. You have power the rest of us cannot fathom, Asaio—or that is what I am to believe. I’ve not actually seen an Enlightened. None of us have, Asaio. To some, you will be a miracle, Asaio.”

“I—”

“To others, a demon. And, to people like the Rubies, you are about to be a very, very powerful tool. You should have stayed out of sight, Asaio.”

I was tryin to, lady.

But, despite Sans’ strong reaction to my powers, I ain’t ever had any real sense of danger regardin them. So there was never any real pressin need to.

“It’s just a title, ain’t it?” I say. “It’s not like it changes anythin bout me.”

“But it does. It really does. It means you could be a god, Asaio.”

“That—okay.” My thoughts are churnin fast.

A god?

Somehow, that feels like it means a lot less than Kamon’s potential offer of power through climbin up the ranks of the City. Because what can a god do? Kirill and Gersim didn’t intervene to save Seran. They never cured Mono-Man or the Gem Lady. They ain’t gonna save Sans, or Isaela from her mother’s wrath when she loses her mind.

It don't give Vernon the money and certification he needs to start his own orphanage. It don’t give Uyala or Kim a better chance at growin up with more than they got now. It don’t change the fact that Michie’s countin the days till his death on one hand. It don’t change the fact that I’m shackled up in an unfamiliar place right now, captured.

“Asaio?”

“A tool,” I repeat. “You sayin the Rubies are gonna come after me?”

“Oh, definitely,” she says. “You do not realize, Asaio, how revered the Enlightened are. Nearly every single Soul in Mecraentos prays hour after hour, prays after debt to the Soul Purifiers, get their Souls checked and cleanses every three Moons, just so that, one Moon, their fractures may—”

“I know, lady. You don’t got to explain it all like I’m dumb or somethin,” I interrupt.

Some of the Garnets still Pray and get their Souls checked. But, with the exception of Shis, none of em are really devout devout.

It hits me that, if what Yaselle’s sayin is true, that I am the ideal person.

“When word gets out, everyone will want a taste of you. Literally and metaphorically. Some people believe that the fastest way to become Enlightened and to be cured of the plague is to drink the blood of an Enlightened. Only few think that, but they exist. And I’m sure there are many less devout desperate enough to at least try.”

“So you got to me first,” I say. “What? As a bargainin chip? So when the Rubies come knockin on your door, or the lickers, or whoever, you can say, ‘Give me blah blah blah, and I’ll give you Asaio?’”

“A wonderful idea, Asaio.” I realize that, this entire time, she has not moved. It scares me, the way she stares like a statue. Her clear skin and wide eyes make it feel like she’s less a person and more a doll. She keeps that grin on her face, and it twitches a bit. The green light of the shroom lamp makes her feel even less real, slightly blurred by the veil. Like she is a doll. With only a light and a smile, she’s completely changed her own image. Enlightened. The word echoes in the back of my mind.

She continues, “But no. Asaio, you’ve made yourself much too valuable to be in the hands of those brutes. I want you to work for me.”

“Lady—”

“It’s better than the authorities finding out about you and, after your stunt at the docks, they will. You’ll be sent to the Slaughter Houses, easy. And you know that.”

“It ain’t a very fun place,” I concede.

“I will not hurt you like the authorities or any other group likely will, Asaio. I can promise you that.”

“What would you have me do then? I’m just as much a tool to you as the Rubies,” I say, noddin at my chains.

“You’re right, Asaio. But at least I am upfront about it,” she says. “People are vessels. Pieces. You are a powerful one, but I know very little about Enlighteneds for I’ve never had any cause to, so I don’t know. You were a surprise today. I am an honest woman, Asaio. I have no plans for you, not yet. I am investing in opportunity. We will be taking steps together, side by side.”

I remain silent.

Finally, that grin comes off her face. “How old are you?”

“Don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Nope.”

“I know many young boys that would have jumped at the opportunity for power like this.” She says this like it’s supposed to be enticin. “You could have entire blocks wrapped around a zealous finger, if you play your cards right. Cities could fall in your name, or they could be restored.”

“I don’t know what zealous means, but it sounds like jealous and that ain’t great.”

She makes a sound between a laugh and a scoff.

“And,” I say, pullin once again at my restraints, “I wouldn’t really have the power, would I? You would.”

“An interesting question,” she says, “that may only be answered with time.”

“How can I trust you, when I don’t even know your name?”

“Yaselle.”

“There’s three of you.”

“That’s just our nature.”

“Just our nature,” I repeat. “Well, nah. No thanks.”

“Oh?”

“If I don’t agree to work for you, be your Enlightened toy, what? You’re just gonna leave me here to starve till I do?”

“That was an option. But, no. Name your terms. You see, this is a very atypical question. The recruiting process for potential Bugs is vastly different than this. Other than safety, what would it take for you to join us? Money? I have plenty. A place for your friends to stay? I can build you that. Now that we have the seventh harbor, our elevated income will greatly increase.”

I blink. “Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not true. You adults—you two-time. That’s your nature.”

“The only thing that separates me from you is time,” she says lightly.

“I have to talk to my family,” I say. “Let me go. No matter what you offer me, it don’t matter unless I talk to them first.”

“You do realize, Asaio, that the second you step out of here—”

“Where is here, by the way?”

To my surprise, she tells me, with no hesitation. “An old underground passage used during the War for escapees. Most of them have been filled in by the Industry or the nobles so none of us can get out of the City without getting by the Watch. They missed this one.”

“Why—”

“Why bring you here? Look around. No wood. Just dirt and stone, Asaio.”

“Right.”

“You do realize,” she continues, “the second you step out of this tunnel, you are putting your friends in danger of the Rubies, or the lickers, or the Lime Men, or anyone else?”

“They’re in danger cause those people know that they were in contact with me. Ain’t it worse if teh lickers come for them and they say they don’t know where I am? They’ll all be arrested.”

“Yes. Perhaps.”

“So you should let me go. So I can check on em. Cause if I agree to work with you and then I find out they're all dead, I’m killin myself next.”

“Extreme. Except I have already sent my own to check on them.”

“You—what?”

“Yes. I know. I’m telling you, Asaio. I am different than the other gangs. I believe in organized change. My Bugs are trained. Despite not being as well know as the Rubies or Lime Men, I ensure my men and women can defend themselves.” I remember her terrifyin moves with the parasol. I don’t doubt that one bit. “We can prevent them from doing anything to your orphan family while the lickers scrape around the City, on the hunt for you.”

“That seems too good to be true.”

“It does, doesn’t it, Asaio?”

The Gem Lady was too good to be true. At least Mono-Man was upfront bout himself. The Gem Lady made us believe we were special—all of us. We hadn’t realized we were signin ourselves up to be indentured servants until the day she died.

Even if she don’t have a plan now, whatever that plan is, it’ll undermine whatever friendly facade she puts on now.

But I know damn well there’s no way she’s gonna let me leave. And I know she’s right bout the fact that I shouldn’t or else I’ll have the whole City poundin on my back.

“Your powers are too special to be wasted on a life of petty thievery,” she says. “And I won’t take advantage of your powers. I want to elevate you. You will be a hero to this City, Asaio. Trust me. Do you know when I started the Bugs?”

“No.” I know it was recent, that her gang sort of popped out of nowhere, but it was always the other Garnets that keep up to date with that stuff. Besides, most of our run-ins have been with the Lime Men.

“Six Peakings ago.”

I widen my eyes.

“Yes,” she says. “Recently .I am good at obtaining what I want, and I am not an asshole about it, Asaio. You can trust me.”

“I need to talk to my family,” I repeat.

“I could bring them here,” she says. “If that would make you feel better.”

“I don’t think any of them would like that idea.” Compared to the Gem Lady, some of others have had far worse encounters with two-timin adults. “You said you could build my family a home. We already got one.”

“It was easy enough for my Bugs to locate your warehouse. It will be even easier for the lickers when they come for you.”

Dread rolls through me. I love that place. It’s the longest ‘home’ I’ve stayed in. The idea of losin it is more painful than I would like to admit, cause it’s just a place, and I was never one to believe that home was a place.

“I can build you and your friends a haven, where no one else will hurt you. I already have ideas as to how I am to do that.”

I narrow my eyes. “You ain’t gonna start two-timin, are you? You build us a home, what are you gonna have em do? They gonna be part of whatever you want to use me for? Jobs for you, like the kids at The Shaver?”

She finally changes her expression. Her brows get all scrunches and her nose flairs. I realize I’ve offended her.

“I keep those kids as safe as they can be,” she says evenly. “And no. Judging from the way you said that, Asaio, you want them to keep all their freedom, though I would not be opposed to new members in my ranks, if they so choose.”

Too good to be true.

“Regardless of whether or not you were exposed as an Enlightened, you would have needed such protection anyways, considering what you did at the docks. Perhaps it would be good to have your name merge beneath the shadow of mine.”

“We ain’t strangers to theft, lady.”

She cocks her head. “Do you realize you stole from the Tinkerer?”

I shake mine. “No.”

“Well. Needless to say, he is a powerful man, Asaio. One you should not have crossed paths with. But I can sort that out for your friends, too. I have deals with powerful people.”

I can think of nothin else to say except, “Thank you.”

I could demand money. She would give it to me, but us Garnets care so little bout that. But the fact that she would give it to me is dangerous. I try to keep my thoughts in order, but she stands so temptingly. I want to trust her. I want to believe that she can turn me into a hero for this City, that my powers may be more than just a weird manifestation of the plague. I keep thinkin of Sans, of her panicked hushes to me. I knew a Moon like this would come, and I want to believe myself lucky that she was the first to find me.

But there are no heroes in this City. If there are any fundamental laws on these streets, that is the first. And I am still chained to a chair.

I am more than wary of her. We spend a few moments, just starin, checkin each other. I cannot tell where the plague manifests in her.

There comes a knockin at the front door.

Yaselle whips around, her black hair flowin across her shoulders gracefully. “If this isn’t an emergency—”

“There’s a kid here. And he says he has Heish.”

“What?”

“Not with him. But he says that he’s hiding him and will give the order to kill him if he does not speak with you.”

“A Pitter?”

“No. One of the kids from the docks.”

My heart races. I ain’t sure if this is great news or horrible news. If they’re here for me, what’s happened at the warehouse? Will this put them in more danger? What are the other Garnets doin, the ones that were with Michie, waiting for us to return from the docks? What have they done with Kamon’s packages? How much time has passed? Who is Heish? How did they even find me?

“Tell him to come in,” Yaselle says.

The door unlatches. My eyes widen when I see Asher approach, his arms held back by a red-faced Bug. The Bugs don’t got tattoos or decorative features like other gangs, but they all have a flower tucked somewhere on their person. The Bug wears his behind his ear.

“Hello,” Asher says.

“How did you find me?”

“I was raised to track worse people than you.”

His voice is different. It’s lower, deeper. It makes him sound older. The way he’s hunchin a little too, and the limp. Those might be real, though. Other than that, he seems to have come out of the docks alright. But, even without the limp, his gait’s changed. It’s a subtle difference that makes him feel like an entirely different person than the one I met only a few Moons ago.

“Worse people than me?” I repeat.

“No,” he says.

“I wasn’t going to hurt Asaio,” Asaio says.

Asher’s eyes flicker over the chains. “I can see that.” I don’t know if he’s bein sarcastic or not. He shrugs his shoulders and the Bug tightens his grip. “Can you tell him to let go of me? I’m not going to hurt you either.”

“Let go of the boy.” Yaselle eyes him as the door to the rest of the tunnel shugs with a thud. “Are there any more of you?”

“No. Just me.”

“And what is your name?”

“I don’t have one,” Asher answers.

“No ages, no names. I would offer you a seat, but this tunnel lacks those. Let me guess. You want Asaio in exchange for Heish.”

Who is Heish?

“Yes,” Asher says. He glances at me. “You need your hostage to secure your deal with the Rubies on the docks.”

“You are an impressive young man, just for locating us,” Yaselle muses. “How is it that you managed that? That you’ve managed to take Heish from me? Or are you bluffing? You have a very blank face, young sir.”

Asher says nothin.

“Well,” she hums. “I’m happy to tell you that I don’t think you need Heish as a bargaining chip. Your friend and I have come to a deal, haven't we, Asaio?”

“Well, wait—” I start while Asher goes, “What?”

“He works for me, as a Bug, and I provide your friends protection, a home. But your lot won’t owe me anything, like he will.” She winks. “I am sending out Bugs already. I am sure you’ve realized the other gangs will soon be hot on your trial.”

“I ain’t agreed to anythin,” I say.

“Yet, what other choice do you have?” she says. She turns to Asher. “Are you not curious as to why I’ve taken your friend?”

“No. It’s obvious. His soul is illuminated.”

Yaselle’s eyes widen, and that disturbin smile comes over her. To my surprise, she lifts her veil. “Illuminated. I have not heard that phrasing in cycles.”

This entire conversation, I feel like I’m missin somethin. Heish, illuminations, whatever. That don't matter to me.

“Are the Garnets safe?” I ask him. He simply nods.

“What was your deal?” he asks me. It is Yaselle that recaps it, he has no reaction.

“Okay. Let me go tell the Garnets. We can meet on Punnet Street,” he says. “Let them name their terms, tell you if they are willing to let Asaio go through with that.”

“I highly discourage we meet in a public place.”

“I do not think the Garnets want to venture here,” he says. From his tone, I figure the Garnets and he have already had this conversation. Were they anticipatin a deal like this? It would make sense.

“What of Heish? Say you are not bluffing—what is it that you want in order to return him to me?”

Asher shrugs. “Heish will stay with us till you prove you do not mean to abuse Asaio.”

“I assure you, I will not.”

“Well. Think of him as an incentive, in case you think you can hide Asaio from the Garnets, too. Until the Garnets can safely speak to Asaio, we keep Heish.” Yaselle agrees to this.

I don’t understand what’s goin on, but it feels like both Yaselle and Asher have somethin up their sleeve they ain’t tellin the other about. They eye each other again, and I realize Asher’s got that same ‘doll’ look to him.