Disclaimer: I'm only playing in Pat's beautiful playground.

Chapter 14: How I Fall

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Dusk was just beginning to fall when I heard the footsteps. I heard them because of the sound they made against the burnt earth. A sort of crunching that rang through the silence. I had been sitting in the quiet, still as a ghost. A charred stone wall behind me.

I turned my head, my eyes drawn to a shape. It was a man. The first person I had seen wander into this barren wasteland since my own arrival. From where I sat, he was little more than a shadow. The shape of his hair stretched out to his shoulders. He wore a cloak, the material dark and indiscernible. He stood there for a long while, looking around the broken earth that had once held a whole row of houses. He stepped onto the scorched ground and walked through the wooden bones that remained, jutting upwards like tall grass. I watched him from where I sat in the shadow of the wall. Too weary to move. Too afraid. Even in the falling darkness, the shape of him looked hard.

Dusk was gathering in on itself to darken into night when the man finally turned to leave, abandoning his walk through the decimated graveyard. When it was clear that he wouldn't return, I stumbled to my feet, brushed the tears from my swollen eyes, and made my way out of Tehlu Town for the last time.

I let my feet guide me, my weary mind catching up only when I found myself on King's Court Road. The thought of leaving had been running through me all day like an undercurrent. I should have listened. But it was too late. I knew it before I stepped into the Imperial Plaza. The spot where Wint's caravan had stood was empty. He was gone.

I stood in Court Circle, turning around aimlessly as night settled around me. There were several wagons still standing around the perimeter despite the lateness of the hour, the flickering torchlight glittering off their canvas covers. Most were packing away their things. I hesitated, feeling the bag of coins through my cloak. Maybe one of them…

I approached the nearest cluster of wagons, where a heavyset man with dark hair, a lined face, and a short beard was supervising the packing. I had to call him several times to get his attention, and he squinted in annoyance when he finally turned to look at me.

"Are you leaving tonight?" I asked.

"If this sorry lot ever gets their shit together," he said gruffly, scratching his beard. He stepped away from the wagons, joining me. "Need a ride, do you?"

"I do," I said, glancing over at his caravan; five wagons arranged in a close circle. "Where are you headed?"

"Up north to Kershain." He seemed to contemplate me. "Just you, alone?"

I nodded.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen," I lied.

He frowned at that. "You don't look a day over fourteen, if I don't miss my guess, little lady."

"Well, I am…" I said uneasily.

"All right," he said. "Got your papers in order then?"

"I…" I paused, frowning. Mother had had an official writ of travel once, endorsed by the Lackless family themselves to serve as an invitation to their court, but most travelers didn't bother with such things. "Does it matter? I can pay."

"Is that so?" He chuckled. "And where do you want to go, eh?"

"Anywhere," I said. "I'm not terribly picky. How much to Severen?"

He studied my face. "You don't sing, do you?"

"I… could," I said carefully. "I'd be happy to do it as part of my fare. I'm quite good."

"I see." He ran a hand through his beard again. There was a slight pause. "One noble."

"And if I sing?"

He shrugged. "If you don't, it's two."

My heart sank and I cursed inwardly. It was more than twice what Wint had offered. At this rate by the time I got to Severen, I'd be penniless. "I'll sing then."

He nodded. "Let's see the silver."

I reached into Derren's purse and then my own, digging out one haft, nine bits, and two and a half pennies. I offered him the handful of coins, but he didn't take it. He simply looked at my hand, then my face again. Something seemed to slide behind his eyes, but in the darkness it was nearly impossible to see.

"It's a noble," I said, wondering if he was trying to sort out the calculations. I twisted my hand so he could see the coins better as they caught the light. "Here. You can count it yourself."

He smiled and swept the coins from my hand. "It wouldn't do for a man to not collect his due."

He tipped the coins into his pocket and then put an arm around my shoulders. "Come then, let me show you where you'll be riding."

He pulled me along toward the cluster of wagons. His grip felt heavy around my shoulders as I awkwardly fell into step beside him. It seemed to remind me of every man who had touched me in the last three years. I shuddered.

"I can walk on my own," I insisted.

"Nonsense." His voice was jovial but his grip tightened, his arm pressing me into his side. I tried to twist away and stumbled, but he kept me from falling. "A warm welcome is the least I can offer."

I felt a sudden tightness in my chest that had nothing to do with how hard his fingers were digging into my arm. For a second I was back in the room with Derren, his hands holding me down, pressing me to the bed. Gooseflesh broke out across my arms. "I've changed my mind. I don't want to go to Severen after all."

"That's all right," he said easily, his grip never loosening. "We're making several other stops. Brycesheer. Tinue. Dorsnia."

"No, that's okay," I said firmly, trying to pull away. "I think I'll stay here."

"You don't want to stay here," he said easily, steering me through the plaza. "You want to leave the city. Can't say as I blame you, what with the warning out."

"What?" I hissed. I dug my feet firmly into the ground and struggled to throw off his arm. In that moment, I saw that we had drifted far past his wagons and were now halfway across Court Circle. A cold sweat broke out across my skin. "Let go! Where are you taking me?"

"Just for a little stroll," he said, his voice still deliberately light. "Don't worry, everything's fine."

"I don't want to— Let me go!" I tried to scream and he clamped his other hand firmly over my mouth. I struggled harder, terrified. His grip on me had become iron. He was squeezing so hard I had trouble drawing in air.

"Stop moving," he said conversationally. "You might hurt yourself."

"Why are you doing this?" I hissed against his hand. The question came out as a broken jumble and I tried to bite his fingers. He didn't react.

"Sorry, little lady," he said, a slight tinge of regret seeping into his tone, "but a man's got to collect his due. Times are hard enough. When the opportunity for gold presents itself…" He trailed off, sounding apologetic. I shook my head weakly, trying to draw in air. My lungs were seizing up. Black spots floated before my eyes.

"Look," he said. "This is coming out all wrong. I'm just taking you to the city guards. I don't like to hold a woman this way, so I'll take my hand off your mouth now. You can scream if you want, but then they'll just come quicker and I'll have to tell them you were resisting. They won't like that. Do you understand?"

I nodded, and he withdrew his fingers. I drew in a ragged breath, trying to push my panic aside.

"Why?" I gasped.

"Oh, girl," he said, in a tone of resigned apology, "don't you know? There's a warning out. No young women traveling alone without papers are to leave the city. Any attempting must be turned over to the guards for questioning."

I felt my heart freeze over.

"Some young lass done a terrible thing," he explained. "Killed a lord some ways off, I hear. Dark-haired young thing. Pretty face. Bit of a singer. Now, I'm sure it ain't you, but if I bring you over, the gold they'll give me's all the same. And a man can't just turn down easy gold, you understand?" His tone sounded almost pleading. "They'll question you and let you go, and you'll find your way to Severen then. And I won't be keeping your noble, mind. I'm an honest man. You can use that to get a ride out, once you've sorted out your papers. Then we'll both have done right by the iron law."

My mind reeled with panic. Of course. Of course. Tehlu hold me, I was so stupid. They would never simply let me kill Derren and escape. Derren was from Renere. I should never have come here.

The world whirled, my thoughts spinning wildly. But there was only one solid, unwavering truth. I could not go to the guards. If I did, it was all over. And I would not go back. I would sooner die. And that thought alone filled me with reckless grief.

"You don't have to go all the way to the guards," I choked out. "I'll pay you. I'll give you what they're offering. Just let me go."

"You'll pay me a whole royal?" He paused, drawing to a halt in the dark plaza. He turned to look at me, holding me firmly by the arm. His eyes bore into mine, his face set into a frown. "Just to let you go?"

"That's right." My voice was barely more than a whisper. I nodded.

"I'm an honest man, little lady." His voice was hard. "The guards will let you go if you've done nothing. It won't cost you a thing. And no one will take you without papers. At least no one you'd want to travel with." The unasked question hung between us, thick and gnawing. I matched the description. I sang. I could see the realization in his eyes.

"You don't understand… I need to leave the city," I whispered. My voice sounded strangled, and I fought to bring it back under control. "Please, I don't know anything about it! I'm no murderer. There— there's a man after me. He wanted to marry me, and I said no. He took me anyway. If you take me to the guards, he'll find me!" My voice broke. "I did lie to you before. I'm— I'm only thirteen. I can't get married." His eyes on me were unreadable again. Almost as dark as the night. "Please. Don't you have any daughters? Sisters?" I felt the tears brimming behind my eyes and let them free. They rolled down my cheeks, leaving my face wet. I was sure he could see them. Sure they would reflect in the flickering light cast on my face from the torches scattered around the plaza.

He was looking at me, silent in the near darkness. I couldn't make out his face enough to see if my words had touched him.

"It's all gold, isn't it?" I hated how desperate my voice sounded, but I let him hear every break. Every tremor. "I took it from him, so I don't mind if you have it. You're an honest man, aren't you? Not like him. You wouldn't marry off a thirteen year old girl… would you?"

He was silent. Nothing. I felt a wave of real anguish wash over me.

"Keep the noble, too," I managed. "For your trouble."

"If that's true," he said finally, "where are your parents then?"

"In Severen! I just want to go home. Please!"

He considered me. "It's a lot of money. How do I know you're good for it?"

Not that honest after all, then.

"Here," I said, reaching into my cloak. I pulled out Derren's purse. "I have it right here."

And then I threw the purse at him.

Startled, he made an instinctive grab for it, and his grip on my arm loosened. I twisted sharply and pulled my arm free of his grasp. Before he even had time to make a sound, I was off. I darted away across Court Circle just as he called out a harried curse.

"Stop her!" he yelled, taking off after me. I heard his heavy footsteps pounding the cobblestones at my back, but it was dark and I had a decent head start. Breathing hard, I swung around a wagon and nearly tripped over a stack of crates on the ground beside it. I just managed to leap around them, avoided a Cealdish man who looked up in surprise as I flew by, and took off across the plaza, my cloak streaming behind me.

I had barely taken two dozen steps when there was a terrible clattering sound followed by a string of curses. The voices rang out clear as bells through the silent night. Then screams for the guards. I ran flat out, reaching the far end of the plaza just as shouts of "Stop!" and "Don't move!" broke out behind me.

But they were too late. Pulling the cloak up over my face, I darted into the first side street I saw. Then another. Into a small alley. Through a crack between two houses. Past an empty yard. I burst onto the busy street beyond, bustling with people. I fell into step beside them, hurrying along until I turned off into another narrow lane. The shadows around me were blacker than night. And so was Derren's cloak. Perfect for sneaking around. He had always been a sneaky bastard. That suited me tonight.

It took over an hour to lose them completely. I wandered the smaller streets, sticking to the shadows until I had walked far enough away from city center that the shouts of the guards faded away entirely. I kept walking for another hour after that, the buildings around me turning markedly shabbier as I wandered deeper into the seedier parts of the city. When I finally allowed myself to stop, I felt like the spinning world had stilled… and I was on the edge.

It hurts to think about even now. How I trapped myself in that city. How I had been foolish enough to go. And there I was, barely a handful of coins to my name. No place to call home for miles. No way to leave. And even if I could, where would I go? Severen wasn't a safe choice anymore. And the only family I had left were off in Anilin, half a world away. Even if they were still there and would be willing to take me in, it was an impossible journey. I would never find them.

So I stayed. One city was hardly better than another. And while I couldn't leave, Renere was big enough to lose myself in. Easy enough to disappear. That first night, I slept in the shadows of a rancid alley deep in South Renere, too afraid of people to seek out the comfort of a bed.

Next morning, I found a bath in the basement of a tiny inn called The Loden Sleep. It was a dim, windowless room of cracked tiles and trails of mold sneaking up to the low ceiling. The water was lukewarm at best, the towel little more than a rag. But it wasn't the amenities for which I had paid so dearly. In the privacy the tiny room afforded, I stood before the cracked slip of a mirror and took out Derren's knife. For a moment, it flashed red in the flickering candlelight. As if all the blood had never washed out. I inhaled sharply, trying to still my shaking hand. Then I raised it to my chin and cut away my waist-length hair in one choppy motion.

My eyes teared up as I watched dark strands drift down to pool at my feet. No one had cut my hair since her. Since Denna. I had let it grow, keeping it long as I kept her firmly in my memory. Her bright laughter. He easy smile. Her gentle hands working their way through my tangled locks.

"You've made such a mess of things again, D. This is a horrible knot. I'll have to cut it short."

"Not too short!" I had begged. "I want long hair like you!"

"Then be more careful."

I had cried then. Big, ugly tears rolling down my face as she sheared the strands of hair patiently away, until my locks fell to just below my chin. "Don't worry, silly." Her voice had been gentle. "It's only hair. It'll grow back. You'll see."

"I don't want it to grow back," I had said, with all the naive certainty of a ten-year-old girl. "I want it now!"

"But you look so cute like this." She had hugged me from behind, her chin resting on my shoulder as she looked at our reflections. "Just in time for spring, too."

The spring she had met him.

I trimmed the ends in silence, evening them out as I watched my warped reflection work. In the broken mirror-glass, the eyes that looked back at me were hers.

When it was done, I pulled out the small scruple of dye I had bought at the apothecary earlier that morning and painstakingly dyed my remaining locks an ashy blonde. Then I wiped my face, dressed, and left the mildewy room; the locks of fallen hair packed neatly in my travelsack. The times ahead would be hard enough. This was no time for crying.

I took a tiny, windowless room at a seedy boarding house and counted my remaining coin on the lumpy bed. The sheets smelled musty and were speckled with dark spots that I tried not to study too closely. But I couldn't afford any better. My freedom had cost me dearly. I had only two quarter bits and a small handful of pennies left to my name, and no way in the world to earn more. I could have hired myself out as a singer, but with the warning hanging over the city, I didn't dare risk it; not even in South Renere, the part of the city no one of any standing would dare to frequent. And of the inns and taverns I tried, no one needed a washing girl in their kitchens. No one would take me for a cook.

No one would take me at all.

Except the men who spent their time drinking and loitering in the narrow, crumbling streets. They were rough men. Men who had fallen on hard times. Men who had lost or gambled away everything. They were sharp and frayed around the edges, like cracked glass on the verge of shattering. They called out to me as I hurried past, often making grabbing motions in my direction. I skirted their advances well enough, but their words served to plunge me into painful memory.

But there was little for it. My only options were to wait until things calmed and try to find work. Save enough to leave the city. The warning would have to lift eventually. And in the meantime, I would stay in South Renere — as far from Derren's establishments as I could get.

It was a simple plan in theory. But luck was not on my side. Even with my new look, I was afraid to venture out into the main thoroughfare of the city, and in South Renere work proved impossible to find. At least the sort of work I was willing to take. Without it, it took only five span for my dwindling funds to dry up. And then my tiny room with the lumpy bed that smelled of mildew was gone, and I was back out on the street with not a place in the world to call my own.

I wandered through the seedy underbelly of Renere for a long while that day before I finally found refuge in an alehouse as night began to fall. Exhausted and fading with hunger, I spent my last halfpenny on a bowl of thin potato soup and a chunk of barley bread, eating it slowly as I considered my options. I debated sneaking out past the guards under the cover of darkness. Perhaps there was a way around the gates. But even if I managed it, where would I go on foot? How far would I get with no food, water, or money?

And I was tired. So very, very tired.

I could go back to the tavern on Flint Street and see if they would take me on as a serving girl after all. They had offered to hire me to carry drinks two span ago, but the owner had made a grab at me before I'd so much as put on the uniform. In that moment, it had seemed like the worst thing in the world. I'd fled, images of the Mare flashing through my aching heart. I told myself I wouldn't go back to that sort of life. I was worth more than that. I would sooner die. Now though… With the prospect of sleeping on the street before me, my idealism was salt on the ground. Could I really not manage a handsy employer? What was he, really, in the face of an empty belly and stretching weeks of hunger? After all, I had dealt with far worse.

And who was I, to think I deserved anything more?

"Whaddaya say, girl? Penny forra roll?"

I somehow kept from jumping in surprise. My eyes lifted, trailing to the man who stood beside me. He was thick, with a pronounced paunch and beady grey eyes. His hair was oily and he smelled overwhelmingly of sweat. He had a thick accent that I could decipher only because I had spent five span wandering these streets.

He took out the coin and laid it on the bar beside me. It made a metallic thunk against the rough wood of the counter and my eyes drifted to it inadvertently. The flickering lamplight glinted off its surface.

"C'mon, now," he said hopefully. "Gotta room righ' upstairs." He laid an arm around my shoulders. "Make a fellar happy, eh?"

I wish I could say that I slapped his arm away. That I ran off, found my way out of the city, and made for Anilin. That I found Mother's family there and lived happily under their protection. But that would be a story. A fantasy. That would not be my life. And the truth of my life was that I had spent the last three years doing two things: singing and whoring. The truth was that five span was a long time — long enough to realize that I was good for little else. That I didn't deserve anything else. The truth was that a penny was more than a serving girl made in a night. And the owner would take me anyway, and expect me to thank him for it. And if I couldn't sell my voice, then the only thing I had left to sell… was myself.

So with a heavy heart, I reached out and slid the coin off the bar. Then I stood up, smiled, and followed the man upstairs to his room. The one nice thing that could be said of it was that it had a window.