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Authors: Brian McClellan

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BOOK: The Girl of Hrusch Avenue
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Vlora couldn't believe it. Someone was standing up to the Bulldog Twins. Not an adult, either, but someone her own age! She shimmied down her drainpipe and took to the street, only stopping long enough to snatch up a splintered musket stock from where it had been discarded in the mud.

Trigger watched while his brother wrestled the smaller boy, egging them both on. He turned toward Vlora just in time to take the old musket stock in the middle of the eyes. He crumpled in a heap on the porch.

Vlora planted one foot into Bullet's ribs. It took two more kicks to get the other twin off the boy. Vlora grabbed the boy by the hand and helped him to his feet.

"My books!" The boy pulled away from her and ran into the street, dodging traffic, to get his books from the mud. He returned just as Bullet was picking himself up off the ground.

"Come on," Vlora said.

They left Hrusch Avenue and lost themselves in a myriad of side streets in High Talien before Vlora felt safe.

"Why'd they attack me?" the boy asked as they stood gasping in front of a baker's shop.

Vlora wiped some dirt off the hem of her skirt. "Because you're smaller. Don't you know about the Bulldog Twins?"

The boy shook his head.

"What's your name?" Vlora asked.

"Taniel."

"I'm Vlora."

He was a little taller than Vlora, with a thin face and hair cut short in the fashion of a soldier. She saw that his knuckles were scuffed, and he had a black eye that had been there long before the Bulldog Twins got to him.

This wasn't his first scrap.

The boy wiped his bloody nose, and Vlora immediately noticed that the moment of excitement had seemed to pass for him. His eyes were calm, and his breathing, while heavy, was measured. He glanced back the way they'd come as if he contemplated going back for another fight.

"The Bulldog twins are in charge of Hrusch Avenue," Vlora explained. "They pick on anyone smaller than them. Except for the gunsmith apprentices. They know better than to do that."

Taniel snorted. "No one's in charge of Hrusch Avenue," he said. "Not even the army. That's what my dad says."

"Well your dad is probably much bigger than the Bulldog twins."

"He'd whip them even if they were adults." Taniel lifted his chin. "My dad wins all his fights."

Vlora smirked. She'd heard that claim before.

Taniel kept his chin lifted, his eyes daring her to question his word. He held her gaze a moment, then looked down at his books. They were covered in mud, and the cover of one was torn. He leafed through them sadly, and Vlora caught sight of practiced arithmetic and charcoal drawings of trees and animals.

"Sorry they got your books," Vlora said.

"It's not the first time someone's thrown them in the mud," Taniel sounded glum. "I'll have to clean them up before lessons tomorrow." He suddenly perked up. "My dad gave me money for dinner. He's—" Taniel paused briefly to roll his eyes, "having a conference with my latest governess. Do you want to share a sweet roll with me?"

"Sure," Vlora said.

#

Taniel came around again three days later, accompanied by another boy. The other boy had long, reddish-brown hair and was a little taller and broader of shoulder than Taniel. Vlora saw them coming from her hiding spot above Hrusch Avenue and went down to meet them.

"This is my brother, Borbador," Taniel introduced the other boy. "You can call him Bo. He's a good fighter. He'll help us if the Bulldog Twins come around."

Bo extended a hand, and Vlora shook it. It seemed like a very grown-up thing to do.

"I haven't seen them for a couple days," Vlora said. "I think they're scared after the licks they got."

Taniel's somber face suddenly lit with a grin. "My dad taught my how to fight. He says never to start a fight if you know you can't win."

"But you do anyways," Bo said.

Taniel sniffed and shot Bo a look. "Bo's not really my brother. He's my best friend, but he does live with us. Bo was from the orphanage. He's a street kid, like you, even though he doesn't live on the street any more."

"Oh," Vlora said, feeling her cheeks turn red. "I'm not a street girl."

"You're not?"

"My parents were..." she stopped, remembering how the other children always called her "Little Highness" when she told them her parents had been nobles. "My parents are dead. I live at a school for girls, but I ran away."

Taniel nodded seriously. "Governesses and teachers are all the same," he said. "I don't like governesses. We have a new one every couple of weeks." He shared an unreadable glance with Bo. "Why did you run away?"

Vlora was about to explain when she spotted someone over Taniel's shoulder. "Quick," she said, "over here."

They ducked into the nearest alley and Taniel peered out into the street curiously. "Is it the Bulldog Twins?"

"No," Vlora said, "It's a noble." She held out her arm for Taniel to see the long gash running the length of it. It still throbbed whenever she moved her arm and it was only now starting to heal. "He did this to me when I scared his horse." The very thought of it made her angry.

"Which one?" Bo asked.

Vlora pointed to a man on horseback in the middle of the thoroughfare. She wouldn't forget his pockmarked face.

He was riding a different horse from last time and he wore a white uniform jacket with gold epaulettes. A sword hung at his side. His shoulders were wide, and his blonde hair was tucked back beneath a white and gold bicorn.

"That's Baron Fendamere," Taniel said.

"You know him?"

"I've seen him before. My dad knows him."

"Is your dad a noble?" Vlora looked Taniel up and down. He didn't seem like a nobles' son. Nobles' sons didn't wander around the city by themselves.

"No, he's a powder mage. He doesn't like nobles."

Vlora didn't know what a powder mage was. Before she could ask, Taniel went on.

"Dad says there's nobody crueler in the Adran nobility than Baron Fendamere. See that sword at his hip? Dad says he's a hab... hab..."

"Habitual," Bo prompted.

"Habitual duelist. He'll fight anyone he can. Dad says that on campaign in Gurla, the baron would kill women and children for sport."

Vlora spotted a steaming pile of horse dung on the cobbles nearby.

"Want to throw shit at him?"

The boys agreed, and they each gathered up a handful of manure and slowly stalked Fendamere down the street as he rode along at a slow canter.

Vlora ducked behind a pair of barrels and turned to her accomplices. "Ready?" she asked.

The two boys nodded, and they stepped out from behind their cover and each of them aimed and threw. Bo's shot missed, while Taniel's slapped into the baron's white uniform jacket and Vlora's smacked wetly against the back of the baron's neck.

The baron whirled, a roar on his lips, but Taniel was already sprinting down the street. Vlora followed hard on his heals, Bo taking up the rear.

"Can you climb?" Vlora asked between breaths. Not waiting for an answer, she swerved down an alley. "This way!"

She shimmied up her drain pipe to the roof above Hrusch Avenue. Taniel and Bo followed her up.

They lay low for some time, watching the baron rage in the street below, kicking over powder barrels and display stands, cursing those damned gutter rats. He looked everywhere for them, enlisting the help of several shop apprentices, before finally giving up and heading off.

Bo slipped away not long after, saying something about an older girl he meant to see.

When Bo had gone, Vlora led Taniel to her spot above the alley where the gunsmiths test-fired their muskets. The alley was empty, but the residual smell of gunpowder made Vlora feel happy.

They threw pieces of broken clay shingles off the rooftop, listening to them clatter in the alley below.

Vlora remembered what Taniel had said earlier about his father. "What's a powder mage?" she asked.

"You don't know?" Taniel pulled his arm back and threw a piece of shingle across the alley, where it hit the slanting roof of the opposite building and rolled back down, catching in a gutter.

"Of course I do," she said. "I was only joking."

"Oh."

She waited a few moments, then felt guilty for the lie. "I don't, really. I just didn't want you to think I was stupid."

"Well," Taniel said, "Everyone
should
know what a powder mage is."

Vlora looked down at her hands. He did think she was stupid, didn't he?

"I mean, so I'll tell you," Taniel went on. "A powder mage is a man who can manipulate gunpowder with the force of his mind," Taniel said. "He can breathe it and taste it and it makes him stronger and faster than regular men. A powder mage can shoot bullets over great distances, miles even!" Taniel leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. "Powder mages can even kill Privileged sorcerers."

Vlora had been enjoying his story until then. She turned away and folded her arms.

"What?" Taniel asked.

"You
do
think I'm stupid."

"I don't."

"You do. Nobody can kill Privileged sorcerers."

"Powder mages can. They have."

"It's not true."

"They can! I swear it."

"How do you know?"

"Because my father is one, and he has killed Privileged before. And someday, I'm going to be a powder mage."

Vlora still didn't believe it. Privileged sorcerers were the most powerful people in the Nine. They could level cities with the flick of their fingers. Who could possibly kill one of them? She tried to imagine what it would be like to kill someone as powerful as a Privileged when a sudden thought sparked in her mind like flint striking steel.

She leaned close to Taniel. "Can a woman be a powder mage?" she asked in a whisper.

"Sure. My mom was a powder mage, too. When she was... alive."

Vlora tried to contain her excitement. She shifted closer to the edge of the roof so that her feet dangled over. "I'm going to be a powder mage."

"You can't," Taniel said.

"Why not? I thought you said women could be powder mages."

"
Some
women can. Only people with the talent can be a powder mage. Dad says it's very rare."

Vlora sniffed. "I want to be a powder mage."

"Sorry."

They sat in silence for some time before Taniel got to his feet. "I should get home. I've got school in the morning."

"Thanks for throwing shit at the baron with me," Vlora said.

Taniel smiled at her. "Let's do it again soon."

#

Amory caught up to Vlora the next week.

Vlora was in Bakerstown. She'd found a twenty krana coin in the street and planned on buying a hot pie to share with Taniel and Bo. The coin clutched in one hand, she had her face pressed up against a baker's front window, peering in at all the delicacies.

Someone grabbed her by the ear and jerked her backwards. Vlora felt a thrill of fear run through her. Had the Bulldog Twins caught up to her? Or maybe the cruel baron?

She was whirled around only to find herself eye to eye with the headmistress.

Her light brown hair, normally straightened and tied back with a ribbon, was loose and blowing in the breeze. Her eyes were narrowed at Vlora, and the corners of her mouth turned down sharply, her cheeks red.

"You stupid girl," Amory snapped at her.

Vlora had never seen her so angry.

Amory still had her by the ear. She shook her, hard.

"That hurts," Vlora said.

"Too bad," Amory said. "It's not the worst of it. You're going to get the stick every night this week. You remember the last time you ran away? I told you I'd lock you in the cellar for a month, and I meant it."

Vlora tried to pull away, but Amory had a strong grip on her ear. "You're not going to lock me up. You're going to sell me."

"Sell you?" Amory said. "Wait, what's this?" She grabbed Vlora's hand and pried it open to reveal the twenty krana coin within.

"That's mine!"

"Not anymore," Amory said, tucking it in her pocket. "You probably stole it, you little brat. It's mine, now, for all the trouble you caused me. Now come along without a fuss."

"No."

"No? Don't make me beat you in the street! And don't even try to run," she said when Vlora tried to jerk away. "I know you've been sleeping at the Talien Square Abbey. You've got nowhere left to hide."

"You're going to sell me to an old man!"

"I'm not going to sell you." Amory looked toward the sky, as if beseeching Kresimir, then fixed her gaze over Vlora's shoulder.

She did that whenever she was lying.

Amory began to pull Vlora down the street. Vlora let herself sag, falling to the ground as a dead weight.

"I'll drag you the whole way home," Amory warned, and began to do just that.

Vlora jumped up suddenly and kicked Amory in the shin as hard as she could.

Amory squealed and let go of Vlora, clutching at her leg. "Brat! That's two months in the cellar!"

Vlora was already running. She had outrun the Bulldog Twins many times. She knew she could outrun Amory.

It wasn't until she was half way to the Talien Square Abbey that she remembered what Amory had said. The headmistress knew where Vlora had been sleeping. It would be the first place she'd look, and though the abbess didn't like Amory she would have no choice but to hand Vlora over to her.

Vlora had no place to go, and Amory had taken her money.

#

For the next four days, Vlora slept on the roof tops above Hrusch Avenue.

The days were pleasant but the nights were cold and Vlora knew that winter would come in just a few months. She would freeze to death without a place to go.

She loathed the idea of returning to Amory. She would rather die in the snow and ice.

She was hungry every day without the bread that she used to get from the abbey. She knew what it was like to go a day without food—Amory made her do it all the time—but her stomach tied in knots the second day, and the third day she was shaking and weak.

At the end of the third day an apple cart overturned on Hrusch Avenue, and Vlora was able to get there before the Bulldog Twins, snatch up several big, red apples and carry them in her skirts back to her hiding spot.

BOOK: The Girl of Hrusch Avenue
6.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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