New Plans

I

The life of Billie Lurk had been filled with many a strange turn. First she'd been an urchin, then an assassin, a ship's captain, and now she was saddled with a four-thousand-year-old former god in a teenager's body. It wasn't the strangest thing she'd ever done, but it came close.

She hadn't exactly planned on taking in The Boy, but she wasn't about to leave him to the mercy of the streets, either. Not after everything they had been through. Besides, it was nice to have someone else around now that Daud was gone. Not that she'd ever admit it.

At first The Boy could only go out after sundown, his eyes sensitive after centuries in the dark. He'd stood on Karnacan rooftops, taking in the lights of the city and the stars above it like a drowning man taking in air. He stayed out until the sun rose over the horizon, retreating back to their hideout when he could stand the light no more. He rested when sleep overcame him, and ate when Billie reminded him to. She'd never forget the expression on his face at his first taste of a Bastillian peach. Now he wandered the streets, drinking in the sights, sounds and smells of life as he went. Taking care to avoid the Abbey, he wove his way through the city, taking routes he'd seen through the eyes of countless generations.

For her part, Billie got straight back to work, taking contracts wherever she could. Karnaca was starting to feel like a jail cell, especially now the Month of Rain was fast approaching. She needed to get away again, to feel the roll of the waves beneath her feet.

Today had been a prosperous day. With coin jangling in her pockets, she'd bought food at the market, canned fruit and jellied eels, and a big round loaf of dark bread. Now she made her way back to her apartment near the docks, shielding the bread beneath her jacket from the rain that had rolled in from the south. As she drew nearer, a couple of dock workers hurried past, hands in their pockets, collars turned up against the cold.

"What kind of moron stands out in the middle of the street in this weather? And without a coat?" said one of them, a woman. Billie didn't break her stride, but a sliver of worry wormed its way into her belly. Were they talking about-?

"Poor lad, prob'ly touched by the Outsider," the other dock worker tapped the side of his forehead. Billie picked up her pace and rounded the corner - and stopped dead in her tracks.

The Boy stood in the middle of the street outside their apartment building, his face turned to the sky. He wore an expression of pure rapture. He was soaked from head to toe, rain running in rivulets down his face and into his shirt, but he didn't seem to care. When Billie strode over and cleared her throat loudly, he blinked and stirred as if coming out of a trance.

"Isn't it wonderful?" he said, his voice choked up. "I haven't felt the rain in... so long."

'Wonderful' wasn't quite the word Billie would have used. She bit back a growl of "Outsider's teeth" - she'd had to do that a lot, lately - before thrusting the bread into The Boy's hands and maneuvering him out of the road.

"Come on, people are staring," she said, directing a one-eyed glare at a shop worker hovering in a doorway nearby. If people started asking too many questions, the Abbey might start sniffing around. That would go badly for both of them.

They let themselves into the apartment building and climbed the stairs up to the third floor. Billie had been lucky enough to find a room to rent from a landlord who knew how to mind his own business. It was cheap for a reason, converted out of an old warehouse, with a leaky roof and paper thin walls. They had a cot each, a small table and a wooden trunk with the few belongings they had. It wasn't much to look at, but Billie had lived in worse. So had The Boy.

Billie shut the door behind them and set her basket down on the low table in the middle of the room. The Boy was dripping everywhere, and starting to shiver, but his eyes were still lit up with happiness.

"Go light the fire and dry off those wet clothes," Billie told him. "I didn't risk my neck to save your life only for you to catch your death."

As The Boy tossed some scrap wood into the fireplace, Billie thought she saw a hint of a smile on his face. She turned away to lay out the food she'd bought. Why did the incorrigible little shit listen to her now? And why did she sound more like Daud every day?

I'm not his mother, she reminded herself. I didn't ask to be saddled with him.

When she heard the fire crackling in the grate and The Boy slipping into some dry clothes, she finally straightened up. He was still buttoning his shirt, and she looked away quickly at the sight of his ribs. He'd been thin - too thin - when he'd been thrown into the Void. She knew how it felt to be that hungry.

Not his mother, she reminded herself again, more forcefully.

"Come and eat," she said, pulling her cot closer to the fire and sitting down. "I've got some news."

Her culinary skills might have been sorely lacking, but Billie had never much cared for fancy food anyway. At least she could keep their bellies full, and since The Boy would probably eat nothing but peaches if she let him, he had no reason to complain.

"I've enough coin for a vessel," she said as they ate. "Today was a good haul." The Boy knew she wasn't talking about fishing, but anyone eavesdropping through the walls would be none the wiser. His gaze dropped to the dusty floorboards.

"You're leaving." It wasn't a question, but the silence that hung between them was full of meaning. Billie could have laughed at the absurdity of it all - the Outsider, afraid of being left alone? She'd heard him having nightmares though, heard him cry out in his sleep. So she bit her tongue.

"You can come with me if you want. The world's a big place. A boat's as good a way as any to see it all." He looked up at her then, eyes shining with gratitude, and Billie had to look away. She savagely speared a hunk of eel on her fork. "You're not getting a free ride though. You still owe me for the arm." she caught his gaze with her good eye. "And more besides."

There was a long pause, and The Boy got up and went over to the narrow window, looking out onto the rain-soaked street below.

"If I could change things…" he began, but Billie just shrugged.

"What's done is done." In truth, her feelings on the matter were far more complicated, but what was the point in dwelling on it? At least The Boy could help her run the ship. That was a start.

"Where will we go?" he wondered aloud, his mind already fixed on the journey ahead. And why not? He wasn't anchored to any place like Billie was. As much as she fought the ties pulling her back to Dunwall, she knew she would end up there again eventually. She always did. She shrugged, trying not to seem resentful.

"Where do you want to go?" she asked. She could put off the inevitable for a while, at least. The Boy only hesitated a moment before he turned back to her, the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile. It was an expression he'd seemed unfamiliar with at first, but was slowly coming more naturally to him.

" Everywhere, " he said.

•:•:•:•:•:•

Billie's new vessel wasn't a patch on the Dreadful Wale. That had taken her far longer to save up for, back when she'd still harboured idle dreams of becoming an honest trader. The Knife of Dunwall was sleeker but cramped inside. At least its engine was newer and in better repair than the Wale 's had been. The vessel's initials were painted in the particular shade of crimson Daud had been so fond of. Billie wasn't stupid enough to paint the full name (and moniker of Dunwall's most infamous assassin) on its hull, but it pleased her to honour him in some way. If anyone asked her what the initials stood for, she could always tell them "The Knickers of Delilah". Or punch them in the jaw, whichever she felt like at the time.

She had more pressing concerns right now, though. The Knife was moored at the disused jetty where she'd given Daud his send-off, and where she'd arranged to meet The Boy before they set off. There was no sign of him.

Billie ran her good hand through her close-cropped hair and grit her teeth. In annoyance, she told herself, though there was a trickle of worry there too. What if someone from the Abbey had somehow recognized him and hauled him in? What if one of those rat-fucker cultists had somehow trailed them back to Karnaca? Billie was about to abandon the ship and hurry back into town to search for him when she saw The Boy's slim figure emerge from the crumbling tide walls. He began to pick his way across the ruined jetty towards her.

"Where the Void were you?" She demanded as soon as he reached the boat ramp. The words came out more harshly than she meant them to, but The Boy gave no sign that he'd noticed. Instead he looked up at the ship as he climbed the ramp, taking it all in.

"Fitting for a two-man crew," he remarked. "Your friend Sokolov would approve."

"Hey, don't change the subject. What happened?"

"I was… detained in the marketplace." Billie's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

"What were you thinking?" she snapped. "You could have brought the entire Abbey down on our heads. You better not have been recognized." The Boy's eyebrow quirked.

"I'm surprised, Billie Lurk," he said, in a way that made Billie's gut fizz with anger. "Have you forgotten how you used to worry Dau-" he cut off abruptly as she slapped him hard across the face, a month's worth of pent-up grief and resentment finally cracking the dam she'd built for herself. Gripping him by the neck, she slammed him against the hull of the ship.

"Don't you dare talk about Daud," she snarled at him, "Not here. Not on this ship. Don't you dare ." The Boy's eyes went wide with shock at her sudden outburst, his fingers struggling to prise her hands away. It was the first time Billie had seen anything resembling fear on that face, and it bridled her anger. When she let him go, he doubled over, gasping for air.

"Billie," he gasped, "I'm… sorry-"

"I don't want to hear it." Billie turned and stormed up the stairs to the ship's bridge. "Stay out of my way," she added, a threat implicit in her voice. The door to the bridge slammed shut behind her.