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I chewed my lip, debating. In the plaza,
hungry citizens lined up to buy fish and stewed pigeon. The steady
fall of hammers echoed across the cobblestones. Somewhere, people
were rebuilding. Somewhere, people were engaged in honest labor. I
thought of the fire-damaged rooms on the third floor of Ceil’s inn.
In a sudden bout of boredom several days prior, I’d paid an
exorbitant price for a hammer, a saw, and a sack of rusty nails,
foolishly thinking I could help repair the missing walls and roof
myself. It’d only taken me a minute of staring at the ruined space
to admit to myself that I didn’t know the first thing about
carpentry.

I didn’t know the first thing about anything,
save picking pockets and turning tricks.

The sad truth was, escaping the trenches was a
childish dream. I had to make a living, and the only skill I had
was the one Anzhéla had taught me. How else would I support Ayo, if
not by taking the job she offered?

As if sensing my weakness, Frey spoke again.
“You don’t have to commit to anything right now. Just come by after
dinner and hear her out.”

I bit back a sigh. It was the least I could do
after a lifetime of her shelter and protection. “I’ll be
there.”

***

I spent the next day waffling between nerves
at seeing Anzhéla and being annoyed at myself for my nerves. Ceil
and Ayo were back at their makeshift booth, selling turnovers on
the sidewalk. I was of no use to them whatsoever, so I left them to
it.

I thought at first I’d go to the whorehouse
and visit Lalo, but as I stepped into the plaza, I saw Uri at his
door, half a block down. He waved at me, looking
hopeful.

“I still have a bit of that whiskey,” he
called to me.

I didn’t want whiskey so early in the morning,
but a bit of companionship was more than welcome, and I soon found
myself perched on a stool at his bar. I was only halfway through my
first drink when somebody behind me spoke.

“Hey mister. I need a word.” It was the whore
I’d noticed hanging about the southern edge of the plaza on our
first day back in Davlova. She had rouge on her cheeks and kohl
around her eyes, but up close, I could see she was even younger
than I’d thought, probably not more than twelve years old. She
stood with her feet planted wide and her fists on her hips, as if
anticipating a fight, which told me she wasn’t hoping for a
customer. This was something else.

“What can I do for you?”

“You’re the one lives up at Spotted Goose,
ain’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Some friends of mine got a proposition you
might be interested in.”

I couldn’t imagine how I’d fit into any of her
friends schemes. “What kind of proposition?”

She cocked her head at me. “Ain’t you gonna
ask to see me shoulder first?”

The truth was, I already could. Her dress hung
off her bony frame, leaving the skin beneath her collarbone
exposed, but I understood her intent. “I’m not interested in your
slave status.”

“And you ain’t opposed to tweakin’ Tino’s nose
either, are you?”

I frowned. I had no love for Tino, but I had
no desire to antagonize him, either. “It’s safe to say Tino and I
aren’t friends.”

She almost smiled. “Good enough.” She angled
her head toward the south end of the plaza. “Come along,
then.”

“Where are we going?”

“Don’t you listen? To see me
friends.”

I hesitated. It was entirely possible she was
leading me into a trap, but I didn’t sense any deception on her
part. I glanced toward Uri, who shrugged. “What’s she going to do?
She must weigh all of ten pounds, dripping wet. My money’s on you
in a fight.”

I laughed and turned back to the girl. “What’s
your name?”

“Lark.”

“Lark. I’m Misha.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, ignoring my proffered
hand. “You comin’ or not?”

“I’m coming.” I finished my whiskey and stood,
feeling for the comfort of the knife in my belt. “Lead the
way.”

We left Uri’s tavern, turning south toward the
end of the plaza where I’d first spotted her. She had her hair
pinned up in an artful mess, but it only served to accentuate how
young and malnourished she was, the knobs of her spine making
evenly spaced bumps under her flesh.

“You’re too young to be working as a
whore.”

She thought about that for the measure of two
steps. “Aye, maybe,” she said at last. “But livin’ in the trenches,
plenty of men been takin’ what they wanted anyway. Figured I may as
well make a coin or two in exchange.”

That was probably true enough. The trenches
had never been kind. “Are you part of a clan?”

“Not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, I tried that, sure enough. Me boss had me
workin’ in his own bed more oft than not, and didn’t even flip me a
nickel for it when he was done. He died in the fire, and good
riddance to the worthless pig. I’m better off on me own.” She
stopped at the burned-out door I’d seen her lurking in the first
day. “You promise you ain’t gonna go squeakin’ to Tino?”

“I’d just as soon piss on Tino as look at
him.”

She smiled and led me inside. Burned beams and
furniture lay everywhere, but nobody was in sight. For half a
second, I feared I’d been led into an ambush.

“Back here,” she said, leading me through the
wreckage, and I realized her friends were intentionally
hidden.

We climbed over a blackened bench, under a
fallen beam, navigating a nightmarish obstacle course until we came
to a door that was still mostly intact. She led me through it.
Inside, four people waited, huddled around a meager fire in a metal
can.

I breathed a sigh of relief. This definitely
wasn’t an ambush of any kind. These people looked more beaten than
anything. There were two men, one I guessed to be close to fifty,
the other in his twenties. Their clothes were unadorned and
practical, but other than having obviously been worn for too long,
were in good condition. The woman was in her thirties, wearing a
simple grey dress and an apron that had once been white. The girl
was about eight years old, and she was the one who stood out.
Beneath a layer of grime, I could see that her dress was made of
sky-blue silk. Ivory combs held her long black hair off her face.
Pearl drops dangled from her earlobes. And whereas the other three
all bowed their heads at me in a gesture of subservience, the girl
kept her head up, a challenge blazing in her young eyes. I wondered
if they’d tried to sell her jewelry and failed, or if she insisted
on clinging to it even now, with the city in shambles around
her.

The older of the two men pulled his cloth hat
from his head and twisted it in his hands as he came toward me,
bobbing as if he thought I was royalty and he wasn’t sure whether
or not to bow. “Thank you for coming, good sir. I’m sure you’re a
busy man.”

I almost laughed. “Not really. Lark said you
wanted to see me.”

The man bobbed his head again and picked up a
small pail. “We know the old lady and the boy have been selling
turnovers, but fruit is awfully hard to come by.” He moved a step
nearer, holding the pail out to me. “We wondered if you’d be
interested in buying these?”

It was full of ripe raspberries. Their
brilliant flesh was the only color in the room, and their sweetness
tickled my nostrils. Just the sight of them made my mouth water.
“Where did you get these?”

“Well, it’s a bit of a secret. I’m sure you
can understand us wanting to keep it that way,” the man said,
bobbing again and glancing toward the other three. “We’ve been
picking them off the bush, but we’re a bit tired of eating them
ourselves, you see. Not enough to sell in the market, and we’d be
afraid to try with Tino lurking about. But we thought about you and
your turnovers, and Miss Lark thought maybe you’d be willing to buy
them off us for a few cents.”

I eyed the group again, taking it all in —
their attires, and their attitudes, and Lark’s questions about my
loyalties to Tino.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Hugo.” He pointed behind him to the
others, who all stood watching us with an air of fearful
anticipation. “That’s Benny and Agnes. And the little lass is
Karina.”

“You’re freed slaves, I take it.” I looked at
Karina. “Except for you.”

Karina’s eyes blazed with something like
triumph, having been recognized for what she was — the daughter of
a noble. “My papa was a mayor before—”

“We all worked for him, before the fire,”
Agnes interrupted.

“And you took his daughter with you when you
ran?”

Agnes put her hands protectively on Karina’s
shoulder. “The rebels broke in that night. I heard the mayor yell
and the mistress screaming as they came in. Karina and I were in
the library and we ran for it. I had to take her, you see? She was
my responsibility. The city was burning, and I knew what was
happening to any female caught on the hill. I couldn’t leave
her.”

“Aye, she’s a right little princess,” Lark
said. “Ain’t yet learned her world’s turned to shit. Still thinks
she can keep her wee hands clean while we all scrape about to serve
her, but it ain’t all a loss. Her rich pap had plenty of these
berries growin’ on his land, and ain’t nobody else found them yet
but us. But like Hugo said, we can’t live off berries alone and we
can’t sell them in the plaza. Not with that prat Tino marchin’
about. And what I make working on me back ain’t enough to support
us all neither.”

“Miss Lark’s been nice enough to help us,”
Hugo said. “But we can’t live off her charity forever.”

And how pathetic was it that the most
charitable person they’d met in Davlova was a twelve-year-old
prostitute?

“I’d be happy to buy the berries,” I told
him.

It was as if I’d granted them their greatest
wish. Some weight seemed to fall from all their shoulders at once.
Hugo and Benny smiled. Agnes put her face in her hands and began to
weep. Even Karina seemed pleased. Hugo’s smile grew into
astonishment when he saw the bills I held out to him. It was more
than the berries were worth, but not an extravagant
amount.

“Thank you, sir!”

“Are there more where these came
from?”

“The rest ain’t ripe yet, but they will be in
a week or two.”

“Good. You can bring them by the inn, when you
get them. I’ll buy those too.”

His smile fell a bit. “We’d hate to cause you
trouble with Tino, sir. If he saw you buying anything from
us—”

“I’m not worried about him, but you can come
by the back door, if it makes you feel better.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“My name’s Misha. Nobody’s ever called me
‘sir’ before today, and I see no reason anybody should start
now.”

“Of course not, sir.”

I smiled, shaking my head at the absurdity of
the situation, that a thief could somehow become a benefactor to a
group of slaves from the hill. But it gave me an idea. Ceil had
told me on our first day at the inn that she'd hoped to sell it
someday and return to Layola, but she wouldn't be able to do it
with half the top floor burned away.

“What kind of work did you do before the
fire?” I asked Hugo.

“Agnes was a nanny. Benny and I worked the
gardens and the stables, mostly.”

“Do you know anything about
carpentry?”

His eyes widened hopefully. “A bit, sir. I’m
no master, but I can lay boards well enough.”

“Ceil had some damage done to the top floor of
her inn. Part of the ceiling and the back wall are gone. Is that
something you could fix? I could pay you for your work.”

I thought his eyes might bug out of his head
at the mention of pay. “Certainly, sir, if you have the tools. We’d
be grateful for the work, but I don’t have even a hammer to my name
right now.”

“I’ll take care of the tools, although we’ll
have to scrounge and barter for lumber like everybody else. Why
don’t you come by the inn tomorrow and get started?”

“We will, sir.” More bobbing and bowing.
“We’ll come to the back door like you said, so’s not to cause
trouble, sir. Many thanks to you for helping us out
too.”

“My pleasure.” And oddly enough, it was the
truth. I felt almost giddy, carrying my tiny pail of berries as I
followed Lark through the burned building to the street.

“You’ll pay him an honest wage?” she asked.
“Not take advantage?”

“I promise to be more than fair.”

She eyed me, weighing my sincerity. “You’ll
have hell to pay if Tino finds out.”

“With any luck, he’ll be none the wiser.” We
stopped on the sidewalk, facing each other, her squinting into the
sun. Her dress hung off one shoulder, almost exposing one small,
barely formed breast. I longed to grab that bit of fabric and pull
it back into place — to restore her to a state of decency — but
these were the trenches. There was nothing decent here, and I
didn’t think she’d appreciate the intrusion into her space,
regardless of the nobility of my intentions.