Fox’s Tongue and Kirin’s Bone

Chapter 17: Be Polite

The lieutenant had waited for them to finish. He came to attention as the door opened, darting one look at Aaron before giving the Lady his full attention.

Hes human enough, she announced.

Somehow, that failed to reassure the good lieutenant. Enough?

Hes been raised by doppels, the woman said. Hes hardly the sort of human the militia can swear in, but hes human enough to not need killing. He might even be strictly human, if we can keep him out of the Downs long enough to stop thinking of every rat-eyed abomination as a person. Now, I believe you arrested him as he was trying to better himself? Take him to Mrs. Summers, please. See if shes still looking for an errand runner.

The lieutenant flushed crimson. Yes, Lady.

Oh, and Lieutenant Varghese? she asked, pausing in her doorway. Do be sure our housekeeper doesnt know that I recommended him.

She shut the door, leaving Aaron alone with the redcoat.

So. Im not a prisoner anymore? Aaron asked.

Thats correct, Lochlann confirmed.

Before, hed known exactly what was expected of him. They wanted him in a cell, he wanted to not be in a cell. Simple. Now he wasnt sure what he was supposed to feel. The hallway was empty except for the two of them, and the day was bright, and as long as he didnt try to filch their silverware he could probably just walk straight out the gates.

Aaron shoved his hands in his pockets. Weird.

Agreed.

If the lieutenant could have hesitated even a moment, Aaron would have appreciated it.

Markus Death was gone. For now, at least. Aaron didnt think the Deaths could kill directly: if they could, he was fairly certain the man would have strangled him rather than simply disappearing. Hed certainly looked like he had murder on his mind just before hed vanished. Hopefully his own Death would talk the man out of anything hasty, particularly things involving ripping his soul out and putting the real Markus back where he belonged.

Aaron shivered a little, hunched his shoulders a bit, and tried not to think anymore about souls. Or ripping. Or the two words together, really.

Do you still want a job? Lochlann asked, seeing his shiver and thinking he understood a thing he didnt. I know we havent been particularly welcoming.

Aaron forced out a grin. Why, Lieutenant. Is that an apology?

Lochlann scowled and led the way.

The housekeeper was in the eastern courtyard, on the opposite side of the castle from the main gates. She was a white-haired woman with a permanent frown etched into the lines of her face, where wrinkles and freckles dueled for territory. She sat at a table, a pile of clothes on one side of her and a cane leaning against the bench on her other. She was alternating between sewing and scowling at the servants hanging laundry out to dry.

No, she said, without even seeming to look at him. It was impressive, really. Aaron had never been so thoroughly rejected in such a short span of time. It put his castle interviews to shame.

Lochlann tried to be reasonable. You wanted someone who wasnt afraid to go into the lower town. Here he is.

The Lady sent him down to me, didnt she? Then no. Nothing personal, boy.

Aaron, Aaron felt the need to correct.

The guard ran a hand through his dark hair. Can you see if another department has a use for him, before we toss him out the gates? He didnt exactly get a chance at interviewing.

Oh, hed had a chance. It had gone a lot like this.

I could be your dungeon sweeper, he offered.

The old woman flicked her green gaze to him. Dont get smart, boy.

Aaron.

Im on duty. Lochlann looked very much like he had a headache building. I cant very well drag him to every end of the castle, and I certainly cant keep him with me. Cant he just wait here? I can deal with him later, if you wont.

The old woman drew a stitch through the shirt she was mending with rather more force than necessary. Ill ask around. It will be a few hours. Think you can sit still that long, boy?

Aaron smiled. In company fair, a man can pass a lifetime in but a moment.

Quite a way with words you have, for a rat, the old woman said.

Squeak, Aaron replied, rising to her expectations.

Lochlann shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Seemed like he was going to speak, then thought better of it. He turned on his heel and left them to enjoy each others company. Aaron sat on the end of the bench furthest from her. After several moments of silence, and the excitement of watching people hang sheets, he reached for her sewing basket.

A slapping hand cut him off. And what do you think youre doing?

Its this thing you do, with a needle and thread and a pile of torn clothes. Maybe youve heard of it.

The old woman snorted. You? Know how to sew? That, Id like to see.

Aaron held out his palm like a challenge. She set a needle in it, like a threat. They worked in silence, broken by occasional sharp barks at the poor souls under her command.

With a last stitch, she balled up the shirt shed been mending and tossed it into a basket at her feet. She tugged a nightgown off the pile behind her. Who taught you?

Aaron was working on a pillow case. He kept his stitches even and tight, and if she wanted to complain that he worked at half her speed, then she could very well do it herself. No one youd care to meet, maam.

You dont seem thrilled by the idea of employment. She put the end of a thread in her mouth, tightening up the fibers before threading it through her needle. Youd keep a honeyed tongue, if you did.

You dont seem thrilled by the idea of my existence, so lets call that trade fair, shall we? Aaron tied off a stitch and broke the excess thread off with his teeth. He balled the pillow case up and took more satisfaction than necessary from throwing it in the basket. This is exactly how I knew it would be, up here. This is why I never even tried before.

Give me that. She snatched the sheet hed just grabbed out of his hands and tossed a shirt at him, instead. The tear is on the seam with that one. Youll have an easier time hiding your stitches.

I could have hidden them just fine, thank you.

You sew like a surgeon. Ill not have you putting scars all over my sheets, boy.

Aaron. He felt his face flushing, but he took the shirt.

What changed your mind? You did try this year, well as that turned out.

He laughed. It was about the only thing he could do. I dont even know how to answer that. Things got complicated, then they got more complicated, then I was in a dungeon, now Im on a bench. Like you said: well as that turned out.

This have to do with whatevers stirring up the caves? My people wont go lower than Second Down.

He finished lining up the edges of the tear and pulled his first stitch through. The best markets are on Third.

Dont I know it. But theyre convinced theyll get stabbed in the back for their pocket change.

Aaron thought a moment. Not an unreasonable fear.

Almost a decade now Ive been sending people as low as Fourth, and they were fine so long as they kept sharp. Then summer comes, and this. What happened?

Your kings dying, isnt he? A midnight conversation, and a figure trying to stand on his own outside the castle doors. Aaron knew his sums well enough to put together two and two. The Wasting King was a title that grew ever more appropriate.

The woman looked up from her work with a scowl. Hes your king too, boy.

Aaron. He pulled another stitch through. And no, hes not. Mines dead.

Ah. Just that. The woman didnt need any further explanation. She returned to her sewing. So whats your plan, boy?

He opened his mouth to correct her, and just gave up. It was a good question. Lochlanns had been a good one, as well. Did he want a job at the castle? A better question was if hed everwanted one. This had been his Deaths idea from the beginning, and now that he was fairly sure the Deaths themselves couldntor wouldntkill him instantly, it was time to rethink things. Even now, he was only sitting here because the Lady had thought it perfect: an errand boy could run back and forth between the castle and the caves, with no one questioning it. It would be perfect, if he were Markus playing at being a dead boy named Aaron.

Frankly, it would be perfect for Aaron playing at Markus, as well. He could let his friends know he was still alive, then go back up the stairs and sleep somewhere safe every night. Holed up in the castle, hopefully the Raffertys would realize he was no threat.

Youre gathering fey, boy, she prompted.

Aaron. He finished with the shirt and threw it in the basket with the rest. My name is Aaron, Mrs. Summers. And once every office in your fine castle has had the chance to reject the boy, Ill see if one of the caravans will take me. And when that doesnt work, I dont know. Steal enough to buy my passage, even if they wont let me work for it. Probably steal some better clothes, while Im at it. He plucked at his shirt. Got a bit of blood on mine, defending your fine walls last night. Between the handcuffs and the forced imprisonment, I didnt have time to wash it out before it set.

There are guards right over there, Aaron. You want to keep talking about stealing?

Shed actually used his name. It took his brain a long, baffled moment to process that. No, maam. Sorry.

The old woman stuck her needle through the sheet to hold it in place, then reached down and rummaged in the basket. She pulled a sweater out and tossed it at his chest. Aaron held it up for inspection. There had been a run under the back collar, but it was barely noticeable now.

He lowered it to look at her. Its been mended already.

I know it has, she said. You need new clothes? There. Dont steal, Aaron. If you need something, you try asking first. I dont care how they raised you in the Downs. Real humans take care of each other. Its how we survive.

He rubbed the fabric between his fingers. It was thick and warm and soft. Almost like new, and perfect for winter. What would you do, if you were me?

The old woman shot a pointed stare his way. Be nice to the woman who makes the hiring decisions, for one thing. Ask her for a job. Politely.

Aaron hesitated a long moment. It felt like a trap, somehow. Please, Mrs. Summers, may I have a job?

Yes.

What?

Yes. She pulled a long stitch through. You work without being told. You sew better than half my staff. Youre honest enough; maybe too honest. If you get lazy on me, or put things in your pockets that dont belong to you, then Ill have you out on the streets. But Ill give you a try, first.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Death. His own Death. He was gone before Aaron could look at him plain, but Aaron thought he caught a smile on the figures lips.

He wasnt sure how he felt about that mans smiles.