money. Why she hadn’t told him already, she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t illegal. Maybe tonight. He’d ask her again about the dartzinger anyway.
Outside, the streets were freshly washed. Rainwater ran down the cobblestones of the sloping street toward the bay, pushing along leaves and the detritus of garbage thrown out windows. She skipped over one such slow-moving pile. Down one side street, a crowd gathered round a man in the distinctive half-white, half-black attire of a ghost trapper. He held high a silvery bottle. No doubt they were ogling his latest catch.
As she drew near Greeble Street, she saw that Sonja and Bull were already there. They were her back-up this time. Second visit Uncle wanted her to take more, a whole battalion just about. She wrinkled her forehead. He didn’t yet trust her to do the job by herself. Hells. Until she did it, she wasn’t sure either. She squared her shoulders and made sure to keep her tone of voice low and confident.
“Sonja. Bull.” They nodded to her. Both of them had on the Bruno uniform – black leggings, black leather cuirass and a black shirt with the company badge – a purple and very spiky echidna. Bull, the size of two men, relied on his fists and knives if he had to fight. Sonja had her two curved Sung swords at her waist. Full gear.
Heloise fought the urge to lick her lips or swallow. “Let’s go.”
“You’ve got the affidavit?” Sonja asked.
“Yes.” She tapped the scroll tube hanging at her waist.
Thom Drager’s clinic was a good three miles further round the bay, so they flagged down a carriage and hopped aboard. Heloise sat facing the driver. Past him were the long ears of his horses. It was difficult pretending to be calm and professional while sitting opposite Sonja and Bull.
Sonja patted her hair, checking the pins securing her intricately constructed bun of dark dreadlocks. She grinned. “Don’t worry, Heloise. We’ll take good care of you.”
“Sonja,” Bull rumbled. “Don’t tease her. She’ll be okay.”
“Yes, I will. This is the same job I’ve done before, just for a little more money.”
“A little!” Sonja hooted. “When I have this ‘leetle’ money I will be rich girl!” She leaned forward. “Look, I know you can be a devil cat, so does Bull, but I also know you’re only two years older than my nephew and he’s got the brains of a headless chicken. So. You listen to what we tell you. Yes?”
“Sonja. We’re friends, right?” She took care to keep her voice level, unhurried, smooth as honey.
“Sure are. That’s why I’m helping you.” Sonja’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Heloise looked at her straight on. “Well, I’m glad of that, but Uncle said I’m the boss on this job. And I am. I’ll take your advice in, I’ll think about it a lot, but I have the final say.”
Bull grinned widely. “Now, I see Uncle in you!”
“Thanks, Bull. Sonja?”
She glared back at Heloise, her mouth a hard line then the corners twitched and spread to a smile. She guffawed and half rose from her seat to give Heloise a quick embrace, with her swords clattering against the timber. “Girl! It’s nice to see some guts around here, Bull being partial to petunias and all!”
He snorted.
“Shake?” Heloise held out her hand, knowing from sparring exercises that Sonja could probably break her hand off at the wrist if she wanted.
“Sure.” And they shook. It only hurt a bit afterward.
Now Uncle would know she meant business. This would be her responsibility and her success. If only the butterflies in her stomach would quit flying around so much.
The smoothest way to get to the Needle Master’s clinic was via Trader’s Road, even though it followed the curve of the bay. Soon they’d left behind Defatt’s Bakery, with its delicious aromas of warm, crunch-brown pastry and cooking meat, along with all the other small shops near her home. Heloise lay back against the hard seat. The sea was visible through gaps between
Outside, the streets were freshly washed. Rainwater ran down the cobblestones of the sloping street toward the bay, pushing along leaves and the detritus of garbage thrown out windows. She skipped over one such slow-moving pile. Down one side street, a crowd gathered round a man in the distinctive half-white, half-black attire of a ghost trapper. He held high a silvery bottle. No doubt they were ogling his latest catch.
As she drew near Greeble Street, she saw that Sonja and Bull were already there. They were her back-up this time. Second visit Uncle wanted her to take more, a whole battalion just about. She wrinkled her forehead. He didn’t yet trust her to do the job by herself. Hells. Until she did it, she wasn’t sure either. She squared her shoulders and made sure to keep her tone of voice low and confident.
“Sonja. Bull.” They nodded to her. Both of them had on the Bruno uniform – black leggings, black leather cuirass and a black shirt with the company badge – a purple and very spiky echidna. Bull, the size of two men, relied on his fists and knives if he had to fight. Sonja had her two curved Sung swords at her waist. Full gear.
Heloise fought the urge to lick her lips or swallow. “Let’s go.”
“You’ve got the affidavit?” Sonja asked.
“Yes.” She tapped the scroll tube hanging at her waist.
Thom Drager’s clinic was a good three miles further round the bay, so they flagged down a carriage and hopped aboard. Heloise sat facing the driver. Past him were the long ears of his horses. It was difficult pretending to be calm and professional while sitting opposite Sonja and Bull.
Sonja patted her hair, checking the pins securing her intricately constructed bun of dark dreadlocks. She grinned. “Don’t worry, Heloise. We’ll take good care of you.”
“Sonja,” Bull rumbled. “Don’t tease her. She’ll be okay.”
“Yes, I will. This is the same job I’ve done before, just for a little more money.”
“A little!” Sonja hooted. “When I have this ‘leetle’ money I will be rich girl!” She leaned forward. “Look, I know you can be a devil cat, so does Bull, but I also know you’re only two years older than my nephew and he’s got the brains of a headless chicken. So. You listen to what we tell you. Yes?”
“Sonja. We’re friends, right?” She took care to keep her voice level, unhurried, smooth as honey.
“Sure are. That’s why I’m helping you.” Sonja’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Heloise looked at her straight on. “Well, I’m glad of that, but Uncle said I’m the boss on this job. And I am. I’ll take your advice in, I’ll think about it a lot, but I have the final say.”
Bull grinned widely. “Now, I see Uncle in you!”
“Thanks, Bull. Sonja?”
She glared back at Heloise, her mouth a hard line then the corners twitched and spread to a smile. She guffawed and half rose from her seat to give Heloise a quick embrace, with her swords clattering against the timber. “Girl! It’s nice to see some guts around here, Bull being partial to petunias and all!”
He snorted.
“Shake?” Heloise held out her hand, knowing from sparring exercises that Sonja could probably break her hand off at the wrist if she wanted.
“Sure.” And they shook. It only hurt a bit afterward.
Now Uncle would know she meant business. This would be her responsibility and her success. If only the butterflies in her stomach would quit flying around so much.
The smoothest way to get to the Needle Master’s clinic was via Trader’s Road, even though it followed the curve of the bay. Soon they’d left behind Defatt’s Bakery, with its delicious aromas of warm, crunch-brown pastry and cooking meat, along with all the other small shops near her home. Heloise lay back against the hard seat. The sea was visible through gaps between
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