Indigo Rain (6 page)

“Hi,” Tylee said, eyes widening at Roulette as the raccoon took her own seat. “Oh.”

“Forgive Tylee for staring. He is stupid,” Gregir said conversationally.

“Hey.” The fox punched Tylee in the shoulder, ears coming forward for just a moment.

Roulette laughed. “He wasn’t staring,” she lied. “And this is a traditional sauce for chicken in Orinthe. You northerner canids are just oversensitive. L’rovri where I’m from would say this is too mild.”

He grinned. “L’rovri where you are from would be dying from heat stroke.”

Tylee’s ears came forward again. “So what brings you to the Society? You don’t look—well—you don’t look like one of the usual clients here.”

She started to smile at the implied compliment, then checked herself. The Vraini’s clothes were clean but well-worn, and the same could be said about his fur. She’d guessed him to be in his late thirties when she sat down, but now wondered if he might be closer to her age. “I’m just having to leave the room I’ve been renting for a little while.”

He nodded sympathetically, and she realized he’d taken it to mean she could no longer afford to pay. She cleared her throat, feeling even more self-conscious. “Are you an Achoren native?”

Tylee nodded again. “I grew up nearby, in South Esington. Are you from Orinthe?”

“Yes.”

“I hope I can visit it, someday. I’ve heard it’s beautiful. Why—uh, why come here? There’s not much in Achoren for immigrants.”

“There is not much in Achoren for natives,” Gregir rumbled.

Tylee laughed. “Not these days, it seems.”

The wolf responded with something typically sarcastic about humans and they settled into more small talk. Like most L’rovri that Roulette had met, Gregir ate quickly. Tylee had already finished eating; he’d been halfway through his meal when they sat down, and he had the air of a wild creature afraid something would steal his food if he didn’t hurry.

As she finished a short description of the town she’d grown up, Roulette caught a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye, and glanced over to see Lisha approaching. The vixen nodded to her as she walked past, then took a seat alone at a table against the wall.

The wolf turned to follow Roulette’s gaze. “I do not usually see her eat here.”

“I’m surprised she’s eating alone.”

He grunted, and downed the rest of his drink. “Because she is so bubbly and social, yes.” He tapped her plate. “Raccoons eat too slow.”

“Canines eat too fast.”

Gregir grinned, and stood up. “I must get to the general store before it closes. I shall see you later?”

“I’ll be here, somewhere.”

She watched him walk off, then smiled demurely at Tylee. “It was nice meeting you. Will you excuse me?”

He nodded, smiling back uncertainly. “Sure.”

Before he said anything else, she stood up, picking up her own half-empty plate and silverware, and walked over to Lisha’s table.

The vixen looked up sharply, her expression almost as wary as Tylee’s.

“You don’t mind company, do you?” Roulette said.

Lisha’s ears came forward, although her expression remained guarded. “No.” She waved at the seat across from her.

“So are you from Achoren?” As she spoke, Roulette tried to guess Lisha’s age. About thirty, if that? Not quite. Older than the raccoon, but not by as much as she tried to project.

“No. I’ve lived here five years. I grew up in Raneadhros.”

Roulette’s ears perked. “Really? That’s where I want to live. I grew up in Orinthe.”

“Raneadhros is closer to Orinthe than Achoren is. How’d you end up here?”

She didn’t feel like telling the story again. “Not so good luck. You?”

“I was with the Ranean Guard. They usually keep officers in the areas they know. But they wanted to move non-human officers into Achoren, and asked for volunteers. So I went.”

“A kind of…of outreach program, then?”

“That was the idea. It just wasn’t a good one.” The vixen’s expression softened into something more contemplative as she looked past Roulette, eyes unfocused. “The first thing you learn as a Guard member is that it isn’t a royal guard, that you’re not a soldier. The drill was ‘not in service to the law, but in service to the community within the law.’ In Raneadhros that worked.” She refocused on Roulette. “But when I came here, I was always
the other
. You can’t win the trust of people who treat you like that.”

“That’s just a few people, though. And older people, ones who don’t want to change. I mean, I haven’t been treated badly,” Roulette said, then looked down. “Other than last night, I mean.”

“Bullshit.” Lisha’s tone was—for her—gentle, but the raccoon’s ears still went back. “You’re stuck in a boarding house in Furville. You know that’s what they call that part of town, don’t you?”

“Yes, but it’s a nice enough place for now. There weren’t any vacancies at the places closer to the city center I asked at.”

“That’s what the landlords told you,” Lisha said softly. “And you don’t have a bank account because they asked for an extra security deposit, since you were from out of town? You didn’t have enough credit?” She abruptly leaned forward, pinching Roulette’s arm fur between two fingers. “Or because you have this?”

The raccoon jerked her arm away. She was starting to see why people didn’t like to eat with Lisha. “Is that why you left the Guard?”

“I was released a year ago.”

Roulette hesitated, unsure whether to ask the obvious next question.

“Sometimes people get—a little bold verbally with the Guard when they realize we’re supposed to be polite and formal all the time. Someone pushed me too far and I decked him.”

“Oh. But being let go just for one fight seems harsh.”

“It wasn’t the first,” the vixen said curtly.

“Oh,” Roulette repeated. She couldn’t think of anything else to say, so ate more of her chicken in silence.

At length Lisha spoke again. “So do you want to move to Raneadhros to dance there? On the stage?”

“Oh, no. I love dancing, but it’s not a career. I want to find a husband there.”

Lisha looked disappointed for a moment, then shook her head. “You’re—you dance beautifully.”

“Thank you.” Roulette smiled. “But I just don’t think I can count on it, and I’ll probably never make much more money at it than I do now. I could have stayed home, but Orinthe doesn’t really
have
landed gentry. Achoren does, but as you pointed out, I have fur.”

“So your life plan is to marry someone rich.”

Roulette felt her cheeks growing warm. “No. No. I want to marry someone I’m in love with.”

“You just
hope
he’ll be rich.”

“Yes. I mean…” She set down her fork and crossed her arms. “I guess you didn’t grow up with that dream.”

“The dream of being a kept woman? No, I guess I didn’t.”

Roulette’s ears folded back.

Lisha softened her expression. “It’s not that I don’t want to live comfortably, or that I don’t want a partner. But in my childhood dreams I never wanted to be the princess waiting to be rescued. I wanted to be the one doing the rescuing.”

Roulette laughed after a moment. “You terrorized the boys in your school, didn’t you?”

“It was great,” Lisha said solemnly, then—for the first time Roulette had seen—smiled broadly. In an instant she transformed from
handsome in a severe way
to
why didn’t I notice you were beautiful.

“So.” The raccoon blinked rapidly, hoping her unexpected blush hadn’t visibly reached her ears. “You’re not married, either?”

If the vixen noticed Roulette’s flush, she gave no sign. “There
was
someone back in Raneadhros, once, but when I applied for the transfer to Achoren, we broke things off. And here…” She shook her head once. “I don’t know. Maybe some people are meant to be single.”

Roulette shifted in her seat, whiskers flicking. “I’m sure you’ll find someone. You’re smart, tough and very pretty.”

“Not like you,” Lisha said, smiling again and shaking her head. “I should go see if I can dig up anything more on what Grayson had planned. His being in town to bring bottles of herani to Massey just a couple days before an opposition rally is
not
a coincidence. Have you written down anything about last night?”

“No.”

“Do it tonight, then, before the memory fades. I know that you don’t think it will, but it will. Try to picture the room—describe it like you’re standing in the center and turning slowly. And think about all the smells. All the sounds, too.”

Roulette nodded. “I will.”

Lisha stood up, picking up her empty plate, then hesitated. After several seconds, she said, “Thank you for coming over to talk with me.”

The raccoon smiled up. “You’re welcome. I enjoyed it.”

Lisha hesitated again a moment, then strode off.

Roulette leaned back and ran a hand through her hair, then grinned a small grin to herself. If the vixen would just let herself smile more often, she’d be married within a month.

The next morning Roulette didn’t feel
like she’d ever quite made it to sleep. When she closed her eyes she saw Mr. Blue’s face—sometimes the way it looked just before he attacked her, sometimes the way it looked just after she’d attacked him. More than once she’d settled into the start of sleep, only to snap her eyes open at nightmares whose images quickly faded to a murky sense of omnipresent danger.

Judging by the light—and the calls of the birds in the rafters—she’d woken up just after sunrise. She made her way to the cafeteria to see what their breakfast would be like.

Only three other people were there. The two she didn’t recognize looked like they must be clients, not staff; the other one, surprisingly, was Lisha, sitting alone in the corner with no food but a cup of coffee. “Good morning,” Roulette called.

Lisha’s ears perked up and she gave Roulette a smile—smaller than the bright one last night, still pretty but almost timid. “Good morning.”

The raccoon came over, but didn’t sit down. “I didn’t think I’d see you here now. You don’t sleep
here,
do you?”

She shook her head. “No, but I wanted to get an early start on planning work for the rally tomorrow. I’m in charge of security.”

Roulette grinned. “That doesn’t surprise me. I’ll go get some food and—”

“Do not get food here,” Gregir called from across the room. Both women turned. “Get food
here.
” Gregir held up a large brown bag with a few small grease flecks on the bottom. It smelled like—

“Doughnuts?” Roulette asked, laughing. “Your breakfast is doughnuts?”

“And
your
breakfast is doughnuts. Plenty to share.”

She laughed again, and pulled out one of the chairs at Lisha’s table. “Come join us.”

Both Lisha and Gregir flicked their ears, glancing at one another. The wolf sat down, though, as did the raccoon.

“These aren’t a very nutritious breakfast,” Roulette said.

“Nonsense.” He tilted the bag on its side and ripped it open to expose all the pastries. “This one is plain, this one has nuts, this one has cream filling, this one has berries. Very nutritious.”

“Thank you,” Roulette said with a grin. She took one of the cream-filled ones, biting into it carefully. Lisha leaned forward and took one of the fruit doughnuts.

“You are welcome, Roulette,” he replied, tail wagging once.

Lisha’s ears flicked, and she ate her doughnut in silence.

Roulette cleared her throat. “Are you doing something for the rally tomorrow?” she asked the wolf.

“I have put up signs, handed out flyers,” he said. “I have spoken with other groups. We are supposed to ‘excite’ people about the referendum.”

“Which is working,” Lisha cut in. “The most recent polling has it being defeated.”

“Narrowly,” Gregir grunted, and ate nearly all of a chocolate doughnut in one bite. “And the other side is excited, too.”

Roulette nodded as she listened, and finished off her doughnut, licking her fingers clean of bits of whipped cream. Then she paused, tongue tip against finger pad, as she realized both vixen and wolf were watching. Just as quickly, both Gregir and Lisha looked away.

She cleared her throat, standing up. “I should go—do that recording. Of my impressions from yesterday.”

Lisha nodded, standing up, too. “You should, yes. Just bring me the notebook when you’re finished. I’ll be in the meeting room closest to the reception area.”

Gregir said to Roulette, “I’ll be ready for our—work—in about an hour, if that is a good time, yes?”

“Yes,” she said with another nod. “That’d be fine.” She grabbed another donut as she headed out.

“
This is not as bad a place
as I was expecting it to be,” Gregir said as he and Lisha walked up the steps of the boarding house.

“I told you it was a nice place.”

“You say everything is nice, so I did not take that seriously.”

She laughed, shaking her head, and led him up the stairs. “It’s just down the hall.” She reached into her pocket for the key, then froze as she approached the door. It had been pulled to, but wasn’t completely shut.

Gregir stepped in front of her, motioning for her to stay behind him, and gently pushed the door open. Roulette couldn’t see past him, but she saw his ears fold back.

“What?” she hissed, squeezing between him and the door frame.

The sheets had been pulled off the bed and left in a pile on the floor, the mattress overturned. And her beloved trunk had been hammered open—

“Oh, no.” Roulette leapt to the trunk, throwing aside the clothes in a frenzy. But she’d known it wouldn’t be there even before she looked. To a thief she would have nothing else of value. “Oh, no…”

“What is missing?”

“Everything,” she whispered, rocking backward and wrapping her arms about herself tightly. Her eyes ached as if tears were about to come, but they didn’t, beyond her vision blurring for a moment. She’d cried too much over the last day. Now there was just a ragged hole.

Gregir patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Let us ask the owner if he saw anyone come up, yes? We can—”

“She,” she mumbled. “Mrs. Vliades.” She didn’t move, but she didn’t resist as Gregir lifted her up to her feet and walked with her back to the stairs.