"Silence, everyone, silence! I do not pay good money to get a university education for you all to talk during my illustrious speech," Clem shouted to the group from atop the counter of the Bank bar. The room laughed in unison. Packed with people paying their respects to Nula or because they heard there would be free food.
It was not true, Clem was not in university, nor was she receiving a top-notch education. The name 'Clementine Finn' was enrolled in one of the nearby universities. However, she had never truly attended a single class. Years ago, she concocted a splendid disguise to avoid arousing suspicion among her associates in the merchant council and conceal her membership in the Widows by paying a girl to go on her behalf.
"The mouse longs to squeak!" Someone shouted in the crowd. Clem's mouth tightened and became sour as she held back laughter, looking for who made the joke. She was shocked when she saw Win, one of the Kerch girls, who had recently joined. She had been struggling to fit in, so Clem allowed the joke to slide as people patted her on the back. Clem could see Granny's body tense up like a springing cat. Clem took charge to maintain the positive mood she was trying to cultivate.
"Dame Dame Cora spoke words earlier for Nula. Capturing the essence of her spirit through words that will serve as a lasting tribute to her memory. Wisdom, bravery and stability. Are these not the perfect words to balance out the words forever written outside the exchange? Industry, integrity and prosperity. Words that drive us as a group, as a business and as a family." Clem hesitated as if she were becoming emotional.
"All things must be balance, and Nula brought us that balance. May she bring balance within us when we think of her for all time, To Nula."
The crowd echoed 'to Nula' in unison and raised their glasses. Clem saw two customers who had come to pay their respects dab their eyes. They weren't a Widow and wouldn't be ashamed to cry at Clem's heartfelt words. Clem jumped off the bar counter where she stood and landed next to Granny, who patted her cheek.
"Manage the bar, and can you send Vera to Luckies to take over for Dame Cora? I'm going out with her and Zelda for a proper drink to give a proper send-off to Nula." Clem smiled and nodded. Granny patted her cheek again. As she walked away, she signalled Zelda to join. Zelda, the ugliest woman Clem had ever seen and the spriest 70-year-old alive. Zelda proceeded to jumped over the bar as she threw her towel and keys to Clem. Clem began looking to the staff to organize a group cheer once Zelda shut the door behind her. Rudy, the bouncer, opened it and gave the thumbs up for the all-clear. Zelda, Dame Cora, and Granny were all out, and Clem and her mice were in charge.
Clem turned and threw her arms in cheer, and everyone joined her. She grabbed a bottle of champagne from behind the bar. She shook it aggressively, popping the cork and letting it spray everywhere. Filling hopeful glasses where she could.
Win, wanting to keep her excellent impression going, shouted out to the group.
"To Nula!" Everyone repeated it in unison. Clem jumped back on the counter as the crowd began chanting.
"Squeak! Squeak" in unison together, yelling and gesturing towards Clem. Clem doubled over in laughter before yelling above their voices.
"First of all, my toast goes to Win, who will surely be killed in her sleep for making that joke in front of Granny."
Everyone yelled 'To Win!' and drank heartily. Win buried her head in her hands in mock dread, her other bartenders patting her on the back in fake condolences.
"Secondly, and truly, to Nula. Not because of integrity or whatever the hell else I said." The crowd laughed, and some booed as if finally getting to respond to her disingenuous speech from earlier. "But because you were one of the toughest bitches in the Barrel, who outlived almost all of them. We will all be working endless days to try and live up to the legacy of one of the original Widows, to Nula!"
Clem raised her glass and drank heartily. She was beginning to overdo it, and she knew it. Someone would report back to Zelda or even Granny. But, of course, not everyone knew Clem was related by blood to Granny since everyone had called her Granny.
Some had thought Granny had taken a maternal liking to Clem but was not serious in her affection. Clem knew. Clem knew Granny loved her more than Granny loved anyone in this world; she knew Granny meant for the Widows to be led under her and for her to inherit all her businesses, allies, and enemies. Clem knew and didn't want any of it. At least not the way Granny wanted her to. But she knew this wasn't the matter at hand today.
Clem stepped outside to get some air. She was properly drunk and needed Jays to wake up and head to the dance hall to see how things were going. She wasn't the manager but knew Granny would want a report. An older Widow named Ertha managed the Study Hall. Having surpassed her prime, she struggled to grasp the appeal that would entice university students to partake in the act of dancing. Clem thought Ertha should replace Zelda at the Bank and someone younger should manage the Study Hall, but it wasn't for her to say or decide. Yet.
Clem purposefully bumped into Rudy on her way out, who jumped to grab her by the arm until he recognized her. Clem laughed at her ability to alarm Rudy, who was four times her size and could bend her into a pretzel shape. Despite being a year older than Clem, treated her like a little sister. Meg would tell Clem that she wanted the whole world to treat her like a little sister, no matter how old they were.
"Good Ghezen Mouse, what you doin' sneakin' up on me?"
Mouse. Clem thought with a smirk. The nickname she had gotten years ago. Granny initially hated it. Clem should have a handle that struck fear in her enemies. Clem had begged, convincing Granny that at age 11, she wasn't invoking fear in anyone. Instead, she should have a weak reputation so no one would see her coming. Granny had considered this idea. Granny took pride in being the first and only woman Barrel boss, mainly because people feared her. When it came to enacting her judgement, Granny was known for being cruel and unyielding. She had hoped one of her children would be the same, but finally set her sights on Clem, who at age 11 declared to her ruthless grandmother that she liked the nickname 'Mouse.'
"You know rats are supposed to come out of the Barrel, right? And that rats eat mice." Granny had said, trying to explain how weak she would sound.
"Granny, if you think a name is all someone needs to win in the Barrel, then I'm set 'cause you're smarter than all the Barrel Bosses, and I want them not to see me coming."
Granny glared shrewdly, then shrugged and looked away. As if she forgot who she was even talking to, but Clem knew she was trying to think of a counterargument. Clem stood there, secretly trying to compel Granny to give up the fight until finally, Granny said.
"Well, it isn't the name I'll ever call you." Clem knew that was the most Granny would concede.
"Just trying to keep you on your toes, Rudy," Clem said, pulling out a match and lighting her jays. She had coined the name and had fallen in love. She and Meg agreed Jays would change things financially for the Widows. They hadn't gained new financial ground in three years, too long for anyone's tastes, especially Granny's. Clem planned to pass some out to all the patrons from the University who came to the Study Hall tonight. The promise to stay up longer without showing their parents they had been abusing jurda worked for the students.
Clem felt her adrenaline rise as she inhaled and blew out some smoke, nodding to patrons who passed her to enter The Bank. The sun had been gone for hours, and she knew The Study Hall was open but not to capacity. Young people only liked to dance at night, in the dark. They weren't like the older crowds, who danced to remember times past when they were young and would flirt dangerously. Clem wobbled a bit on the spot as she felt her heart rate rise and the drink ran through her veins. She squinted and saw in the distance that Sol was approaching; she must have been on shift for the Study Hall.
"Sol!" Clem had yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth, and leaning back to add to the effect. She grinned and took another drag off her Jays.
Sol's face did not change expression, which made Clem grin more. Sol had joined the Widows only a year earlier. She had been a highly trained soldier in the Shu Han army but left when her father was discovered to be a traitor. He had been of superior rank, and Sol knew she would be punished for his transgressions. Sol spoke three languages, could do reconnaissance, and trained to fight like a warrior.
Clem considered herself the luckiest bastard in the Barrel in convincing Sol to join them. Sol's only demand was not to be marked with the Widow tattoo. She was confident it was all a misunderstanding with her father and that she would be allowed to rejoin her home country any day. She had only chosen to go to Kerch due to the neutrality of their politics and her confidence that she would be a wanted commodity. Sol had been wrong, no one was interested in a Shu warrior who refused allegiance and thought they were better than everyone. Clem had to convince Granny to let her work at the Study Hall, and she avoided sharing the other of the jobs Sol had been doing.
"Good night, Mouse," Sol said stoically.
"It's good evening. Good night means goodbye, have a good rest of the night" Sol's face crumpled in confusion and shame for being incorrect. Sol was proud, and Clem knew it annoyed her to be teased. Sol was younger than Clem by a year but acted like she was one of the elders; she was serious. Sol often nodded when someone called Clem' Mouse,' saying it was the perfect name for her.
"It's very true; you are like a rodent. Who never attacks, only runs, and steals." Sol had often said. Clem didn't much appreciate this particular interpretation. Still, she could never refute it because she fought hard to keep the name. At least not while Granny was alive.
"Sol, you missed the funeral; it was noticed." Ertha had joined them outside; Clem scowled at her, not appreciating her bringing down the mood that Clem had worked all night to bring up.
"Why would I join in saying goodbye to someone I barely said hello to? The disrespect would be in the pretence." Sol threw back her hair, clearly, in an act of defiance.
"Don't matter, rules is rules and respect is seen differently here. You better have a just cause if you get asked by one of the other elder Widows," Ertha pointed her finger at Sol. Clem thought Ertha could hardly wait to be a true elder and start doing the questioning herself. Clem knew that would not be a day she would look forward to.
Sol stared back at Ertha, unimpressed and uninterested. Clem knew Ertha wanted a reaction, maybe even an apology, but also knew Sol wouldn't give it. Clem sighed, finished the last inhale of her jays and put her arm around Sol. Her free hand turned and flicked behind her own back as she compelled Ertha's mood to shift towards more leniency and patience.
"Ertha, of course, we are so sorry. I didn't think. I asked Sol to run errands for me that others usually do so they could attend Nula's funeral. You're right. It should have waited." Ertha paused and then nodded. Her face relaxed, and Clem felt her become more at ease.
"Thank you, Mouse. It's good of you to say." Clem nodded solemnly, pulling Sol away toward the Bank; Sol began muttering.
"It's very true, look, see, I told you. Rodent, who only runs." Clem kept her grip on Sol tight.
"Let's grab the newly created box of jays to be able to hand out tonight, ok Sol?" Sol nodded, pulling away from being lead, preferring to walk at her own slow pace. They headed towards The Warehouse.
Clem wasn't proud. Everyone knew she preferred the Widows, mainly herself, to cultivate and maintain power through discussion, charm, and humour. Most others didn't realize that Clem had been born with the abilities of those of a Corporalki. In Novyi Zem, they would call her Zowa. In Fjerda, she would be known as a witch and in Ravka, a Grisha.
Clem discovered her ability young; she didn't like to think about that discovery incident, but Granny knew that it needed to be harnessed and hidden. She would also ensure that different Grisha were sought out and paid to train Clem. Granny wanted Clem to become a Heartrender but, unfortunately, always naturally leaned toward healing. Clem could barely stop a man's heart, and she greatly struggled with physical healing. However, she excelled at compelling and found influencing a person's mood and emotion to come more naturally to her. Another Grisha hadn't trained her in two years, but she practiced compelling as often as possible. Meg was a Materialki, specifically an Alkemi. Clem knew it was why Granny took on Meg's family's debt. She demanded that Meg pay it back in full, including all the training paid for her. It was never mentioned that the trainers were often not Fabrikators and focused on training Clem. Clem always understood that this is how things worked in Ketterdam. She felt terrible for Meg, but recognized that it wasn't Granny's fault that Meg's family ran up debts.
Clem wondered if Meg was still working away in her office with Sal. Why did she always get to do the creative work? Clem thought.
Meg consistently toiled away, seeking a new formula or substance to be able to sell. It wasn't easy, but the Jays were a unique opportunity. If the University students took to them, they had a whole new market of selling that no other gang had. It also meant Meg better understood how to break down jurda.
Three years prior, everyone had begun trying to work with jurda to create an imitation of something called parem. A form of jurda that made a Grisha next to invincible and sick with addiction. The formula allegedly died with its creator and their son. Kuwei Yul-Bo publicly had been shot during the auction of their indenture.
Granny's greatest regret was not going retrieving Kuwei herself. She had been approached by a merchant but had scoffed at the suggestion. She also later refused any offer of deputizing. At the same time, the whole world looked for Kaz Brekker and different members of the Dregs. Clem had watched much of the chaos from the top floor of one of the buildings Granny had owned. An antidote to param had been discovered in Ravka, but it was not easy to replicate. Meg was banned from trying again by Granny after she became tired of wasting stolen jurda plants. However, Meg had figured out how to make jays, thus had an opportunity to lessen her family's debt by a little if Clem helped it sell.
Meg usually would work in her office until she would fall asleep at her desk, usually an hour or two after Sal. Clem had gotten snippy with Meg earlier, and hoped her mood had calmed as it usually did when she worked with Sal. Clem didn't like compelling Meg, but she knew it would sometimes be more straightforward than dealing with her sullen moods. Sol reached the door to Meg's office first and knocked. Clem jogged to catch up. Sal opened the door and stood in the doorway.
"Yes?" Sal asked nervously. Sal was a nervous ten-year-old who took to Meg immediately and loved helping her with her work. She had a twin, Dal, who stuck to Clem. Clem managed most of the young members of the Widows.
"The Study Hall will be opening soon; the Pigeon owes us three crates of the jurda sticks," Sol replied. She motioned with her hands to Meg while also speaking to Sal. Since joining the Widows, Sol found Hand fascinating and committed herself to learning it. Meg didn't look up from her desk, where she was writing. Instead, she used her free hand to communicate
'over there.'
She motioned to a corner that had a blanket on it; Sol pushed past Sal and lifted the veil to reveal three wooden box crates. Lifting them out of the office, She moved past Clem without looking back to see if she would follow. Clem knew she should leave with Sol and allow Meg her time. However, whenever she told herself to keep quiet, she found herself talking.
"Hey Meg, what are you working on tonight?" Clem asked loudly. Even when Meg wouldn't directly look at someone, or a group she would still watch to see if they were communicating in Hand. Clem had gesticulated her fingers while she asked the question, too, ensuring Meg would know her question in either method. Sal's eyes darted between the two of them, distressed. She knew Clem held a higher rank, but her loyalty always fell to Meg. Clem hid her hand and compelled Sal to calm herself. Meg looked up.
"Since being banned from working on jurda and Parem, I'm being forced to look into different plants and see if we can get similar effects."
"Any luck?" Clem didn't notice Meg's speech had slowed, which meant she had continued drinking after Clem had left her.
"No, but something is interesting coming from the Shu Han. A plant, the Kerch, called za vee. When it's boiled and ingested, it soothes someone, calms them, and even helps them with a fever. I became interested in it because it's cheap to import. The only people looking to calm others are usually husbands to their wives or mothers to their children. Not high in demand. I'm testing it and mixing it with different substances to see if it can have any other effects." Clem smiled; Meg's mood had calmed. The signs were evident when Meg became overly passionate about her work and began to talk without interruption.
"What have you tried?"
"I only just got the first shipment two days ago. I started with the basics. I've tried heating it at different temperatures and mixing it with different solubles. It's not acidic, so mixing it with different acids is extremely interesting. They mix it with tea in the Shu Han. Oh, actually, can you call Sol back?"
Clem hesitated. She had been watching Sol and had sensed her heartbeat throughout the conversation. She realized she had slowed her step when Meg began talking and stopped altogether when she mentioned Za Vee. Her heart started beating slightly faster; Clem knew Sol detested discussing her past or sharing anything about Shu Han culture. When Meg was determined, she couldn't think of interpersonal differences. That was Clem's skillset. Clem decided not to continue to speak aloud and spoke in Hand.
"She's already in trouble with Ertha for not coming to the funeral; if she's late with the jays, even I won't be able to get her out of trouble" Meg nodded in understanding. Clem, satisfied that their spat was behind them, proceeded to the Study Hall to ensure all three crate of jays sold tonight. Anything to help Meg. Clem thought.