Baylen became distant following that evening. He didn’t apologize for his actions, and I wondered if he even remembered them or if he was too ashamed to broach the subject.
I had known Baylen Sallow since birth. After Father Cullard, his was the first face I saw as a babe that actually meant something to me. Now, I felt resentful at what he had become. WhatIhad become, sticking around with these vagrants.
I started to believe Father Cullard was right after all—leaving the House was the quickest route to our downfall, to losing our souls.
I had no friends in the Diplomats with Baylen withdrawing from me. It was a dangerous position without someone to defend me if problems arose with other members.
We lived in squalor. For months I went on the jobs Dimmon directed his flock to carry out. They were mostly petty robberies and snatchings like Bay and I used to pull as Housemates. Sometimes they would be more advanced—conning a man out of his life’s earnings, for instance, which played out over a course of days.
Dimmon promised great wealth and a connection to Olhav with a reasonable down payment that became larger as the days progressed. It was always “one more thing” the man needed to do to strike it rich. When he became privy to our scheme, the Diplomats simply ambushed him in an alley and stole everything he had—including his purse full of the final payment.
I watched as it happened, doing nothing. Seeing little Baylen getting attacked by Jeffrith and his minions in that poor man’s face. Still not having the grit to put a stop to it.
I became detached and indifferent. Unsympathetic to the plight of the hard-working commoners of Nuhav, because eventheyhad more than I did. It was a class war we had no hope of winning. I knew nothing of politics at my young age, yet even the wrongness of the situations began to feel less burdensome and worrisome.
I realized I didn’t care about my soul being lost because clearly no one else did.
After a few weeks, I got closer to Jinneth, the gangly girl who spoke like an alleyway crusty. She was odd but I neededsomeoneto talk to since Baylen was still not communicating with me. Almost like he expected me to apologize tohim, when I had done nothing wrong.
“Jeffrith and me, we come from backwoods in the east,” Jinneth told me one day as we strolled together toward a street corner to start a day of crime.
She was from Nuhav. I knew the “backwoods” she spoke of was actually a city sprawl of poverty. Much like my situation in the Temple district.
Jinneth was diminutive and quick with her hands. Perfect for stealing coin-purses, like Baylen had been when we were younger. She only came up to my shoulders yet there was a fierceness to her I envied.
“Whole lot of us, yeah?” she said. “All us guttergirls and sewerboys, passed around from home to home ‘til we came too unruly for the almshouses. Didn’t want nothing to do with us whelps, yeah? Too big’a family.”
I frowned. “You mean it’s not just Jeffrith? How big is your family, Jinneth?”
Her face sank, and I felt sorry for asking a question that made her squeamish. “Used to be bigger, yeah? Had two other sisters and brothers, I did.” She stared off down the street where folks dragged wheelbarrows and carts to set up their shops for the day. Her eyes had a distant look, her lips a sad smile. “Jeffrith and me’s the last of ‘em.”
I winced. “Your siblings . . . they’re dead?”
My situation didn’t compare, I realized.It could always be worse, eh?
Then she snorted loudly, adjusting her tunic so it stayed on her bony shoulder. “Nah, yeah, they ain’t dead. Sisters went down the skirt pipe. Brothers joined the Bronzes.”
Plight is not a competition, I guess. We all fight our own wars.“I’m sorry to hear it. What’s the skirt pipe?”
She glanced over at me like I was silly. “My, you’re green, yeah? And pretty. No wonder. Y’know.” She rolled her wrist, losing her words. “The, erm, the night-maids. The wench girls without clothes we see some nights on the corners. Showin’ their tits and cunts to anyone who’ll look, yeah?”
Ah.“The prostitutes.”
She snapped her fingers and pointed at me. “There you have it.”
Her story depressed me. I’d started to feel a sense of camaraderie and talkativeness I hadn’t in weeks, and now I saw why it was better to just keep my mouth shut and stay despondent.
I was curious, though. “And your brothers? They became lawmen?”
Jinneth cackled, throwing her head back. “Yeah,lawmen.” She rolled her eyes. “You never wonder why them Bronzes never come to bust heads at the dumping ground we call home, yeah?”
She was right. It wasn’t that the Bronzesrarelyshowed up . . . they never did.
“Master Dimmon gots some scheme going with ‘em. An agreement, yeah? Keeps them away outta our pockets.”
Interesting.Seemed Dimmon Plank had some pull and influence around the Nuhav underground.
“It’s a good thing, yeah?” Jinneth said. “If they looked at us too hard, they’d find a whole lots they don’t wanna see, yeah?” She nodded her chin down the street. “Speaking o’ cunts, look at this one waddling toward us. See the purse bulging on them wide hips? Let’s pull one on her, Sephy.”
