My heart raced as I stumbled away from Aralia’s office door. So much had just happened, and there was no time to think about all of it, but there was also no way to stop thinking about it—

  The way that, as she’d watched me overheat, her gold-ringed gaze lost its piercing edge, and became pensive, fascinated. The corner of her mouth quirking up. The way she’d leaned forward. A shiver of delicious heat went through me, remembering. She’d been toying with me—for fun. She’d said it herself. She had even seemed a little…stirred.

  And I had been obviously, deliriously turned on by it. I blushed. When she’d taunted me about soaking the furniture—

  I almost stumbled. I expect you to wipe that seat before you leave. Oh fates. Oh grief.With all the instructions she’d been giving me, I’d completely forgotten to check the seat.

  I took a shaky breath. She’d been teasing me, right? She hadn’t expected me to actually—No, there was no way. I was shamefully wet, but not that wet. Not on the outside of my clothing. Right? I surreptitiously checked between my thighs—damp.

  I sighed. Aralia knew so much about me and held so much over me already, did one more embarrassing exposure even matter?

  ...No need for bckmail when you’re such a pliable little slut…

  I squirmed as my body responded with another hot pulse of arousal. Would Aralia hesitate to take advantage of me the way that Alexi had? Did I even want her to hesitate? The answer to that question made me blush harder.

  But if Aralia was counting on keeping me pliable and obedient that way, she wouldn’t have offered me an alchemical hepatic, right?

  Unless she didn’t think it mattered whether I took the hepatic, either way?

  Now I understand better how easy you must have been for your roommate to fuck.

  Another lightning twinge of arousal shocked me, from core to limbs.

  I groaned. Clearly I needed to stop thinking about Aralia yanking my head back, and the way she’d taunted me, and the way she’d ughed at my mingled humiliation and lust. I’d made her not only smile, but ugh…

  I pushed open a door and found myself in a courtyard I didn’t recognize. I crossed it anyway, impulsively. I was almost sure I knew where I was.

  No, Aralia already had me on a short leash. She didn’t need another one. And that leash would hold—meaning that her incentive to protect my cover and retain my service would also hold—for as long as I was still useful to her.

  And yet, she’d cimed that she would continue that protection even after I was compromised?

  I promise that I will not let them have you.

  What was I supposed to make of that? Even as fresh hope surged inside me, I fought it down. I wasn’t by any means an expert on bckmail, but I was pretty sure that making promises to someone whose life was in your hands wasn’t that common. Especially that kind of promise. There had to be something else going on.

  I wanted so badly to believe her, but what possible use would I be to her, if my cover was blown? All she really needed from me, if I was caught, was silence.

  I shivered. Was she just feeding me deliberate nonsense about keeping my mouth shut and pying a role to save her own skin? It was the only expnation that made sense, and yet Aralia had asked my name.

  My throat flooded with a raw ache. She’d called me Ellie. Nobody had ever done that for me. Also, she didn’t even seem bothered by the idea of me being a girl? In fact, she had decided to actively help me be a girl.

  Which meant, I was betedly realizing, that she was going out of her way to take on a substantial risk herself. Nothing like mine, but still…

  I couldn’t help but feel ridiculously grateful towards her.

  But did any of this mean that, if I had exhausted my usefulness, she would actually intervene on my behalf?

  If she did…

  The thought made me feel fragile, riddled with cracks, like a piece of gssware that was barely clinging together. If I was caught, and if she did come through on her promise (her promise!) to shield me from inquisitioning, I knew all my defenses and wariness towards her would crumble to pieces. I would melt into a puddle at her feet. Was there anything more meaningful than that? Anything that would make me more limp with relief?

  And if she didn’t?

  The thought of undergoing Ministry interrogation chilled me with terror. I’d heard stories of inquisitionings, same as everyone. I knew everyone broke eventually.It was only a matter of how long it took. What the Ministry of Inquisition returned afterwards were the shells of people—jumpy, hollow-eyed beings that had spilled all their most secret thoughts and most desperate lies onto the tiled floor of the interrogation chamber. If they came back at all, they came back remolded—by a combination of drugs and sensory response conditioning—to crave or despise whatever the Ministry fancied them to.

  And Apomasaics, in Ministry hands, promised an even more invasive technology of human control and revision.

  I shuddered. I had been cornered before, by boys, in schoolyards and alleys. I knew how to deaden myself, how to send myself away from my body, how to go silent and unresponsive and immobile, until it was over. But how long could I stand up to actual torture by actual Inquisition officers, if it came to that?

  I took another deep breath. This wasn’t the time to spin out in a panic. I needed to get to the bursar’s office, then meet Aralia in town, all before eighth bell began to ring.

  ~ ~ ~

  When Aralia visited town, she never took the main road.

  This time of night it was sure to be flocking with groups of students on their way to the pubs, not to mention the all-hours traffic of oxen and horses pulling carriages, bearing riders, and heaving den wagons.

  Instead she took the narrow, winding shortcut that led directly to the staff housing district—the low, quiet, dark part of town that sheltered the many worn hands and heads that kept Harmine’s students fed and its buildings clean and warm. She had the cobbled path to herself—it was already a bell into the night shift—and the full moon shone vivid orange through the bare tree branches crowding overhead.

  Aralia walked slowly, savoring the sharp, still night air. She liked the dark, missed it like a childhood friend. She appreciated its unknowability, its inscrutability. The Imperiati were spoiled with alchemical light, addicted to it. They used light to manage, to regute, to govern. They feared the dark, because it held possibilities they could not afford to allow.

  Occasionally, there was the blurred voice of an owl. It was good weather for clear thinking, as her aunt Jacynth used to say, back when they had crossed titudes like these together.

  She had much on her mind that was more pressing to attend to, but the thought of the girl she’d just seen in her office kept rising to the top.

  Aralia shook her head, again.

  It seemed to be the only gesture that could do justice to the situation.

  For one thing, she couldn’t believe Ellie’s naivete. Transitioning without the barest smudge of a pn. Doing it here, of all pces. The girl’s courage was colossal, of course—poking the social hygienists in the eye like that, under their very noses. Aralia couldn’t help but feel a fsh of admiration, even as she found herself continually astonished by the girl’s clumsiness. Her horniness, for example.

  Aralia rolled her eyes, again.

  How had Ellie managed to follow Aralia’s careful trail of breadcrumbs and completely reverse-engineer Apomasaics, while still completely missing the need to control for the propagation feedback loop of unbound principles? She wanted to grab the girl and shake her.

  And that brought up the needy, broken moan Ellie had made when Aralia had yanked her head back…

  And the squirming, red-faced state Aralia had reduced her to, with a few choice words…

  Aralia shook her head, this time at herself. As taken aback as she was by Ellie’s utter ck of control, her own ck of discipline mortified her even more. Yes, it had been tempting to toy with the girl, and deliciously fun, but Ellie was an asset, she reminded herself. It was unwise to become too attached.

  Even worse, Aralia had been letting her mask of control slip too much in front of the girl.

  Aralia cursed grumpily. When had she ever let herself giggle in front of an asset before? It made her sound like a teenager, and it was dangerous, besides. She had spent years deliberately cultivating her rigid, ruthless reputation—her best protection, given that it operated preemptively.

  Her reputation made those who would have otherwise crossed her or moved against her think twice about it, which meant that she was less often forced to ruin their lives. Which saved her valuable time and energy. It was an armor that had cost her too dearly to let an ill-considered slip ruin its effect.

  Aralia couldn’t afford to show such vulnerability to her. The girl was Imperiati after all, even if she was kuffa. In this pce, trust was completely off the table, with all but a chosen few. Control was safer.

  She had learned at Hellebore that the only way to protect people who might’ve been used against her, was by pretending they didn’t matter to her. They had all been forced to learn.

  And yet, she reasoned, her control over the girl was so total—was there truly any harm in rexing her guard a little when they were alone? Aralia often went for days or longer without letting anyone see the tiniest shred of her emotional reactions and it had been enormously tempting to take a small break, especially with someone who was so utterly in her power. Maintaining a rigid bnkness was so tiresome, especially when Ellie was so fun to tease, and responded so…vividly.

  And she couldn’t help liking the girl. A lot, actually. Ellie was so endearingly cute, it was almost impossible not to soften towards her, a little.

  Truth be told, the girl’s floundering inconsistency and inability to lie convincingly bespoke some potential…reliability problems as an asset. Not that Ellie didn’t have potential, but Aralia had initially decided to recruit her less for her likely usefulness as an asset and more to protect her. For now, Aralia just wanted the girl well-hidden in pin sight.

  Ellie had no idea just how horrible of a fate could be in store for her, if she was caught poaching the Imperiat’s vaunted prize of Apomasaics, but Aralia did, and while she’d done many things she wished she could forget, she still did not want that on her conscience.

  But it was on her conscience.

  You gave them Apomasaics, her doubt whispered to her. You gave them, not just any weapon, but that. The secret so many of your elders took to their graves rather than give up, you delivered gift-wrapped to their worst enemy. And with all the favor you generated, you have still not found what you sought—what you thought you were bargaining for. Was it worth it, knowing all they will do with what you gave them?

  Aralia’s heart sank. Was hiding Ellie, and promising to protect her, just a salve for her wracking guilt, another way to numb herself to the compromises she was making? Was she trying to save one girl, because she couldn’t deal with the mounting ruin she was contributing to? Because she couldn’t bear feeling so implicated, couldn’t bear the price of her rger betrayal?

  She groaned, and shoved that line of thinking away, for now.

  Ahead was the growing whisper of the river. A little while on, the trees gave way to meadow, and she saw the colossally wide brightness of the moon climbing above her. Ahead, the dark bulk of a stone bridge. Mounting it, Aralia looked out over the spread of dark, low-slung rooftops. The streets immediately around her were narrow, dark and empty. In the distance, she heard a simmering revel, and saw the alchemically-generated glow of many lights.

  The door she knocked at was non-descript, the same as every other door on the block. There were heavy footsteps, then the lock slid, it opened and she was blinking in the warm light that spilled out.

  A stout, older woman stood there, beaming and reaching for her. “Come in, come in!”

  They hugged and kissed each others cheeks. “Mea canar, I haven’t seen you in days! You have the tired eyes. Have you been sleeping in your office again? It’s not good for you to lock yourself away like that. Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, thank you, auntie,” Aralia said automatically. It was considered very rude to refuse food in Jyllish homes. Besides, the peanut stew smelled delicious. Her mouth was watering. “Did you get my message?”

  “Yes, yes,” said the woman, whose name was Esca. She bustled over with stew. They had both switched to speaking in Jyllish. “The new maid? She can sleep here. Pasha will take her over in the morning.”

  Aralia accepted the bowl gratefully. “Thank you, auntie.”

  They both sat down and Esca gestured impatiently. “Eat!”

  Aralia obeyed. “She needs clothes, too,” she mumbled around a mouthful of food.

  “Yes, yes, no need to fret. Pasha had the undress ready some spares. They’re in that bundle by the hearth. Now, tell me, how is my stew?”

  “It’s wonderful, auntie,” Aralia said honestly. “Just like I remember. How on earth did you get the raj peppers, all the way up here?”

  Esca preened. “Leave an old woman her secrets, dear.”

  Aralia smiled.

  Esca leaned in, and her voice sobered. “Any luck?” she asked quietly.

  Aralia shook her head, her gaze dropping. The gesture seemed to age her five years.

  Esca reached for her other hand, and squeezed it. They were both silent.

  “Well,” Esca sighed, “There’s new mail for you upstairs. Maybe there’s some news in there.”

  A knock sounded, firm and clear.

  Aralia stood and went to the door. The slender, smooth-faced boy she let in had a fine cloud of curly hair like golden wire and a brusque set to his jaw that melted away when he saw Aralia. They embraced each other tightly.

  “Mea canat,” Aralia whispered.

  “Mea canar.”

  “Did you find her?”

  He nodded reluctantly. “Where you said she’d be. And no one following her. She’s outside, waiting.”

  “Thank you, Pasha.”

  He grimaced slightly. “Are you sure this one is worth the risk, though? She’s clumsy and oblivious as a new-born foal. She’ll draw trouble like a lodestone.” He hesitated. “We cannot rescue everyone, mien.”

  Aralia knew her eyes wouldn’t disguise the doubt in them, not from Pasha. She looked down instead, silent.

  “Remember how your elders taught you,” said Esca sharply, from the table. “To hold a line in your hands, when someone is drowning, and not to throw it…” She shook her head. “The whiff of such numbness draws ravenous ghosts from far and wide, and gives them the scent of your soul.” Esca shivered. “There are visible risks, but there are also unseen prices. Don’t run up the tter just to avoid the former.”

  “We were taught all that was needed to prepare us for a different life than the one we got,” Pasha said levelly, not taking his eyes of Aralia. “And the ghosts are already all here.”

  Esca looked back and forth between them, her eyes full of tended pain, and was silent.

  Aralia was still staring at the floor.

  Pasha sighed, and his mouth twisted. “We agreed to look out for one another other first, and survive long enough to find the others, above all.” A pause. He seemed to be reluctantly forcing out the words. “You know you might have to give her up, if it comes to that?”

  Aralia met his gaze and nodded, looking more haggard and exhausted than ever.

  The silence that stretched between them all ached with the emptiness of a long-dry well.

  Esca spped the table. “Well, don’t just leave her outside! Bring her in and feed her!” She turned to Aralia. “How well are we supposed to know you, anyway?”

  Aralia grimaced.

  “Oh come now,” Esca protested. “You just got here!”

  “Sorry, auntie.” Aralia forced her voice to stay light. “It’s not safe to be close to me.”

  Esca grumbled.

  “I’ll visit with you upstairs,” Aralia relented. “It’ll go better if you wait for me there.”

  “Well and good, thank you dear—oh, and don’t forget your stew,” she called over her shoulder as she mounted the stairs.

  Aralia nodded at Pasha, who opened the door, and beckoned Ellie in. The girl came in hesitantly, wide eyes darting. She had the frozen, wind-burnt look of someone who was far out of their depth. Aralia shoved down a reflexive twinge of sympathy. When she spoke, her voice was carefully neutral.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Got what you need from the bursar?”

  I nodded quickly, looking back and forth between Aralia and the gorgeous, grim-faced boy. He’d sidled up to me on the street, where I’d been waiting for Aralia, said my secret name, and beckoned me to follow. He hadn’t said another word to me since. His eyes held armor.

  “Well done, Ellie.” The two of them stared back at me, their tawny faces shut and locked.

  I blinked. I’d never seen hair like his before. The mplight made a gleaming halo of it.

  “This is Pasha. Give him the commission you got. Tomorrow morning he’ll see you to where I’ve decided to pce you.”

  I fumbled out the sheet of heavy paper, signed and sealed, and handed it over. The force of Pasha’s gaze made mine skitter shyly away. There was a heavenly smell coming from the kitchen. It was warm in here.

  “There’s stew, if you’re hungry.” There was a faint teasing note in Aralia’s voice this time. “I trust you can serve yourself?”

  I blushed and stammered my thanks. As I filled a bowl, the two of them began talking quietly. I sat down, trying to make myself as unobtrusive as possible. It was the most delicious food I’d ever tasted. I was so hungry, I almost choked on the first mouthful.

  The room I was in was spare and neat—a round table, chairs, an iron stove, a few alchemical mps. Richly-dyed curtains, wall-hangings and a small rug lent the space a reddish-orange hue. The wooden floors gleamed. I yawned hugely.

  Aralia left the room without gncing at me, and I heard stairs creaking. Pasha was unrolling a hempen net of some kind on the floor. As he attached the ends to metal hooks set into the ceiling beams, I realized it was a hammock.

  He turned to face me and gestured at it. “You can sleep here. Rouse before dawn.”

  I nodded, and he dimmed the mps, then followed Aralia upstairs. I stumbled over to the hammock. After tangling myself only once, I managed to find a comfortable position, and I remembered nothing more.

  ChaoticArmcandy