Thirteen Mercies, Three Kills Read online

  “Alive,” she murmured. “Angela Richards looks alive. As if some strange magic is at play and her very soul has been etched into your skin.”

  Tears welled up from somewhere deep inside, their trails down my cheeks giving me great relief. Mama was still with me; it was so obvious at times. But it did nothing to diminish the torment of missing her.

  Tora shifted slightly, scrunching her black eyebrows together. “Your perfume is always so fresh. Sakura, isn’t it?”

  A nod was all the answer there’d be. I wasn’t using any perfume. The scent seemed to loom underneath my skin, itching to spill out as Tora imprinted the design. It was stronger when the tattooing happened closer to the occasions of mercies. The pink smoke was thick today, impatient to reach the ailing, and it scratched my heart raw.

  With quick motions Tora cleaned my back of any ink smudges, applied a soothing balm, and covered up the newest art.

  “I understand you must hurry.”

  It was true, sadly. “Tora, I… I want to thank you for working on my father’s runes. I’m sure they helped him greatly in his passing.”

  She smiled and reached out, but I pulled back with a bitter smile. My throat tightened. No other words could come out. If Mother had been alive, Father would have fought. He would have done anything to stay by our side longer, by his wife’s side. I just wasn’t enough of a reason to fight. Standing there and looking at Tora, my memories of him were stronger than ever. He’d been here, sat in the same chair to have his rune tattoo worked on.

  “Cristina Mera… terminations like your father’s are a personal choice. You can’t blame him for making his decision, no matter how much it pains you. Love means letting go.”

  “Or letting die, in my father’s case. Funny way of proving his love, wouldn’t you say?”

  She fixed me with black, bottomless eyes. “But then isn’t that what your mercies are as well? Because they love their sick, family members ask for your help to let them go easier, when the time comes. To relieve some of the torment. If it helps you, then think of Max’s termination as a mercy for his soul.”

  Her beautiful colorful robe slid in the light as Tora moved about in the room. I wished I could have her calmness and composure about the whole thing.

  She looked up and smiled. “Well, then, I’ll see you whenever you have time to stop by. We’ll finish up everything in the next session.”

  After the proper courtesies were exchanged, Nana and I were on our way out. A sad little figure greeted us in the salon’s foyer. She seemed young. Black hair fell long and straight around her shoulders to the middle of her body. She wore a simple smoky dress, chest neatly pressed and skirts not that rich. Something tugged at my heart’s string, and I knew. The way the girl kept her gaze glued to the floor, her body perfectly still as her chest heaved—yes, it was her. I walked over in slow, measured steps.

  “Have you asked for me? I’m Cristina Mera Richards.”

  Saucer-wide black eyes shot up, wisps of beautiful hair waving from the motion. She looked older than a moment sooner. Her gaze made me think she might even be a young teenager.

  “I’m sorry to intrude on you, Miss, I….”

  Her voice seemed to fail here, but her eyes spoke enough for me to know for sure. I took the few steps that still separated us and patted the girl’s shoulder.

  “What can I do for you, dear?” I asked as kindly as I could.

  The black silk of her hair glided with motion again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Shana Ahni. I was referred to you by our neighbor, Herr Rotte. I… we need your help, Miss. Will you help us?”

  Her voice broke again and I tried to resign myself to it, though I never truly seemed to manage it. Someone in that girl’s family was dying of the withering.

  “You live close by, then?” Nana prompted.

  The girl nodded, gazing at the floor again with wide eyes. They remained fixed downward as she led us to one of the houses next door to the salon, a smaller one, more at the back. The home was eerily silent. The creaks of steps as we went up them were the only sounds. Death had a way of snubbing out all noise. Though it didn’t yet reign supreme over the thin body resting on the bed and contorting with pain, Death had already taken control of the entire house.

  “Mami…,” the girl whispered, “she’s here, Miss Richards is here.”

  The body contorted again. The woman turned her face, ravaged by pain, and aimed bleary eyes at me. She parted her lips in a semblance of a scream, but no sound spilled forward, as if her throat had been overused and refused to cooperate any longer. The girl kneeled by the bed, trying to grip her mother’s hand, probably in an attempt to comfort.

  Nana moved fast, picked the girl up by her shoulders, and took her to a chair.

  “Her skin hurts, sweetheart. You just sit down and my miss will make it all better. Won’t you, Miss?”

  I nodded and sat on the bed. The prickly sensation started again in my chest, shooting through my bones and finally reaching my skin. When the waves of tingling sensation touched the barrier of skin, the cherry-blossom perfume filled the room in a tsunami that rendered me light-headed. The thin woman beside me whimpered once, then slowly relaxed into a regular supine position. Her small lips twisted into a smile, and from the other side of the room, I felt the daughter’s relief for that brief second. Mother’s face again overtook that of the assisted, and for a moment, I thought she looked at me directly, the ghostly apparition of my mother’s face staring right at me. Her emerald eyes were open and full of love, and my mother looked just as she had in life. I winced. My lungs stung and the ghost dissolved back into the poor woman’s face.

  She was serene, and Death’s greedy claws snatched her away with that smile on her face. The cold chill of her soul evaporating into nothingness shook me to the core. As if sensing the exact moment her mother was no more, the girl screamed, wailed hysterically, long, throaty howls that sounded almost inhuman. I shot my hands up to my ears and pressed hard against them, hard enough to crush my skull almost, but the girl’s voice kept increasing in volume and the guttural rasp that broke loose in its midst made the hairs on my body stand on end. I couldn’t breathe.

  For a moment I couldn’t hear either, or feel, but then I came to and found myself in Nana’s arms, standing in the street in front of the house we were just inside. She wrapped her warm arms around me and caressed my back softly, and the horror drained away like a river bursting free. When the storm passed enough to leave me leveled, I dislodged myself from Nana’s arms. Only then did I notice the huddled form of a man sitting on the front steps. He was looking up, wide eyes and trembling lips outshining the rest of his features.

  “She’s gone, my wife, ain’t she? She’s gone.”

  I barely managed to nod once. He didn’t blink as we turned to walk away. I kept looking back until the shadows of the street swallowed him. Misery radiated from where he sat, thick enough to coat the whole street.

  And there standing under the alkemic street light, I saw her again. This time the unnatural alkemic light on the street shone from behind her, throwing her features into darkness. I could barely make her out, but I knew it was her. The dark stranger. I made to step in her direction, but she vanished as if she’d never been there. One blink and she was gone. Was she a figment of my imagination? Was I going insane? Some changelings were rumored to go insane during the transformation period.

  I blindly followed Nana’s lead as she guided us back to the carriage. The sound of the steps of the guards around us brought small comfort. I froze there in the street, lost in space and time. Long minutes of simply standing there passed as the wails of that girl echoed in my head. Between the sorrow of yet another loss and the odd comfort of having seen my mother’s face, I felt drained.

  An eternity later Nana cleared her throat. “Miss, I’ve told our carriage driver to take us to the market. I hear there’s a new apothecary’s shop.”

  “New apothecary? Nana, you hear the
strangest of things.”

  I inspected the tips of my boots where they peeked out from under my skirts. Glancing up, I noticed the guards were regarding me oddly. Proper ladies didn’t sulk. My face fell back in synth line, no outward sign of feelings.

  “Let’s go, then. I do need some tonics.”

  We settled into the carriage and traveled there in silence. By the time we arrived, the market was almost empty. All the trading had been done earlier. Most of the people there were out for a walk, so our strolling about with three guards didn’t look odd at all. Though our steps were light and casual to anyone’s eye, Nana had a clear direction in which she was discreetly leading us. We walked past a series of shops in the alleys. A particular window drew my attention because it held no business sign. On a street full of eye-catching ones, the empty window looked odd. People didn’t seem to notice it, though, or they didn’t care. Nobody paid the shop a glance, not even a cursory one.

  Nana tilted her head. “This is it. The woman had no time to put up a sign, the apothecary is that new.”

  Hmm. “Are you sure we’re going to be safe?” I whispered.

  Nana scoffed. “Of course we’re safe. With our three jailers in tow, we’re like a prison party walking.”

  I pulled on my lip piercing hard enough to feel the sting. Taking in a deep breath, I braced myself for the unknown. It stood no chance against me, I decided. “Well, let’s go in, then.”

  The guards posted themselves at the entrance of the shop, grim as always. Whomever else might have intended to visit the place would change their minds. The guards had a way of scaring people away as well as scaring me. Entirely their purpose, most assuredly.

  Chapter 7

  THE DOOR screeched ominously in our wake. There was no warning bell to announce arrivals. The storefront looked barely kept, rather shabby, in fact. Long shadows danced over the hardwood floors from a chandelier with a few lit candles throned above. Dusty shelves were the main décor. Sparse crates of this or that were strewn along a couple of them. The place looked odd, if not scary. It also seemed empty except for us.

  Nana looked around. “She must be here, or the door would’ve been locked.”

  I frowned. “Why are we whispering?”

  “You’re right. We should make our presence known.” Nana walked to a wooden tray and casually flipped it over the counter. “Whoops, how careless of me!”

  Muffled steps echoed from somewhere in the back. They tapped a steady rhythm, the cadence reverberating through my rib cage. As they sounded closer my heart beat faster.

  “Hello, ladies.”

  Time screeched to a halt. I would’ve recognized her figure from a thousand steps away. She wore no hat but had the same suit. Her voice slid over my skin, delightful like honey. I looked up into eyes of the oddest shade of green, and her gaze was fixed on me with rapt attention. A flush burned my cheeks.

  Nana had more presence of mind. “Good day,” she said in a clear voice.

  The woman’s gaze, however, refused to focus on anything or anyone else. “What can I do for you?”

  I couldn’t find my voice, not while looking at her. Not while she looked at me. A shudder crept up my spine and our shared gaze refused to break. With some effort I managed to wrestle my focus to the floor. Why was I here again?

  Nana spoke evenly. “We need some… advice.”

  Nikola Skazat’s black boots looked brand-new, the leather squeaking as she stepped closer to us. I longed to look above the boots again, to take in her entire form, but by the buzzing in my ears, I was sure she was still watching. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, then shifted it back again. I clasped my gloved hands together. My skin felt suddenly clammy.

  She walked closer with the same annoying calm. “Afraid I’m not in the business of giving council. You’ve been misinformed.”

  Nana rustled with her handbag and produced a bag of credits. I stared wide-eyed as she held the bag up.

  “I have it on very good authority we’re well informed. It’s a difficult situation. You have to help us. You have to help my miss. My friend, Jean, recommended we visit your shop.”

  For a couple of long moments, I could only hear my heart pounding. I wished I had a gut feeling about Nikola. Unfortunately my gut was crawling up into my chest and bubbling and my insides had been spinning around since she stepped into the room. It was hard to make sense of things right about now.

  “If your miss needed help, she could try asking for it. Or is she mute?”

  I snapped my gaze up to the intriguing green orbs. As soon as we made eye contact, the skin on my back burned, not quite distressingly, but uncomfortable nonetheless. I opened my fan and fluttered it a bit too enthusiastically, relishing the cooler air. Was the room getting hotter?

  Candlelight fell softly over her tall frame, shifting shadows licking over her sculptured cheeks. Sweet ink and needles, I’d never seen a woman like her in my entire life, though admittedly mine hadn’t been all that long.

  I took a deep breath. “I’m Cristina Mera Richards. Pleased to meet you. Miss…?”

  She looked over my face and hair with an air of curiosity.

  “I’m sure your name, Miss, isn’t emblazoned on my forehead,” I muttered.

  She quirked her lips in the oddest smile. “Are you, now?”

  The buzzing in my ears eased away, steadily replaced by annoyance. “Quite sure. I’m told you’re a woman of great skills. That’s why I came to see you. But skills or not, one must always behave properly.”

  That smile of hers was infuriating. “Must one? I see. In that case, Miss Richards, I’m Nikola Skazat. Entirely delighted to meet you.”

  Air burst out of my lungs as she casually bent forward and grabbed my hand to kiss it. Gentlemen did that, not women. The very notion she was about to do it blanked my mind. Just before her lips made contact with my glove, she looked right up and through me with her blazing eyes. My cheeks burned hotter.

  “Richards… you wouldn’t happen to be related to Max Richards, would you?”

  Nana tsked. “She happens to be his daughter, in fact.”

  A slow smile spread across Miss Skazat’s lips. “I see. So, then, Miss Richards, what’s troubling your lovely head?”

  “My lovely head? Are you mocking me, Miss Skazat? Because I assure you I’ll stand for no such thing regardless of how much I may need your assistance.”

  “Sorry, mocking wasn’t what I had in mind. You’ll have to excuse my manners, ladies. I spend little time in your town. I’m not very… proper, I suspect.”

  Nana scoffed but said nothing. It wasn’t surprising she traveled a lot. I suspected no one town could put up with her ravishing presence for too long. She was still drilling holes through my skull with the focus of her gaze. I had the acute feeling these were what people called “bedroom eyes.” A drip of sweat trickled down my nape.

  “Let’s try this again,” she finally said. “What sort of help do you need?”

  Well, the humiliating part was yet to come. Now I had to tell this woman, this odd and troubling woman, about my delicate situation. Somehow I’d envisioned the whole thing going over much more smoothly.

  Angling my chin up, I faced the challenge head-on. “I need to become your apprentice, Miss Skazat. And I need to do so immediately.”

  She quirked her eyebrows up, funny little curved shapes that made her look considerably younger. “Do you, now? Just like that?”

  The smile on her lips softened and she focused her eyes on Nana. I studied her raven-black hair now that I could, the shiny texture of it, the way it fell softly to her nape, neatly combed back. Her black three-piece suit looked truly new as well, just like the shiny boots. It was glaringly obvious her chest wasn’t pressed by any corset. The swell of her bosom was generous and her shirt stretched to accommodate it before dipping below the vest. I realized then men’s clothes outlined the body in a way dresses didn’t, giving clear view to the contour of one’s hips and thighs and their
apex. Nikola in a man’s suit was the single most provocative image I’d ever seen. The only spots of color in her ensemble were the twin crimson cuffs on her black shirtsleeves. Even her cravat was a smooth black silk. My fingertips tickled with the impulse to touch. She didn’t look like someone who lived in New Bayou at all; that much was clear. The alien air about her made me suspect she wasn’t much at home anywhere, in fact. The meaning of the word “wanderer” took on a whole new dimension now, thinking about it.

  Nana stepped closer. “Mr. Richards is gone, and that Edgar Verner creature is wagging his tail at my miss. He wants her as his apprentice, Skazat. You know as well as I do that that’s no acceptable outcome. Jean explained the situation, I’m sure,” Nana rushed to add.

  Miss Skazat looked back at me and studied my hair, or something behind me, perhaps. “I’m sorry for your loss, Cristina Mera.”

  A knot formed in my throat. “We’re not allowed to offer condolences in New Bayou.”

  Still not looking at me, she tilted her head to the side. “And who do you suppose would stop me?”

  She had me there. Alkemists were above human law. They only heeded something called universal law, and it seemed suspiciously lax. I shrugged and clasped my hands harder. Silence stretched and pushed against my chest.

  When she spoke again, she was still gazing somewhere above my head. Her gaze seemed to be focused more on the inside than on the world around.

  “So you’re all alone in the world now?”

  Nana cleared her throat, but before she said anything, I took the chance.

  “How would you know that my mother isn’t among us anymore?”

  She smiled, a mysterious tilt of her lips that seemed to hide more than reveal. There was a softness to her features now, something akin to pity that made my heart squeeze tight like a fist. “I knew Max and Angela. I know she was lost to the withering. And yet….”

  She again inspected that thing above my head. A soft breeze stirred the shop. It came out of nowhere. There were no open windows I could see. Perhaps they were in the back? As the breeze slid around us, for a moment I caught the scent of cherry blossoms. I breathed in deeply, let it calm my nerves, my fears, and my oppressive loneliness. For one second my heart twisted, but I willed the darkness away. The image of that petite brunette girl whose mother had just died flashed through my mind, her wails still shaking my bones.