Clem was going straight to bed. She had been up too long and grumbled that she had not advertised strongly enough how much she valued it and needed to re-establish this as her priority. Tired people make terrible mistakes, are reckless and become angry more easily... Clem was walking towards the Res with a speed most people would call a jog. She didn't want to run because she feared she would trip and collapse. Her head still ached from earlier; she had no energy to try to heal herself and was doubtful of her ability even when she was in optimal condition. Injuries had been tricky for her, and she rarely got to practice. Granny rarely focused on healing people. Clem was grateful she didn't make her try. Clem knew Dal was trailing behind her, likely keeping a distance to ensure the streets were safe. Not necessary at this time of day. Everyone was asleep in the early afternoons in the Barrel. When Clem had discovered Dal in Granny's house, pointing a rifle that was too big for them at the two of them, Clem's hands had shot up.
"Dal! What is going on."
"Granny had a last-minute meeting. She wanted no interruptions and told me to stand guard. So, I'm standing guard."
"What kind of meeting?"
"If you don't know, then I won't," Clem smirked but also doubted Dal didn't sneak a glance.
"What room are they in?"
"Her office, usual."
"I need access to the safe."
"You think that's a good idea with people in the house?" Clem lifted the broken bag with one hand, revealing the Kruge almost pouring out.
"Tell me, Dal, where do I keep this until the banks open?" Dal eyed it.
"What happened to it?"
"I had a moment of weakness and tried to rob myself but then came to my senses." Dal glared at her, and Clem laughed, shaking her head.
"Aren't you supposed to be meeting Win?"
"I'm not going against Granny; she'll be happy I didn't show. She'll get to see her boyfriend."
"She still sees the merch's son?"
"Yeah, she thinks she's got him wrapped around her finger. She has no idea." Clem wanted Dal to focus on Win's abilities, not her personal life. She was also concerned that Dal was maybe seeing too much.
"That's what you're thinking about when you sit here for hours and wait for a possible intruder you get to shoot?"
"Yes."
"Well, focus on something more productive."
"Like what? Win is my student; I need to know how she's failing."
"Ok, this maybe has gone to your head too much; maybe we need to pull back on your authority." A sound of Granny's fakest laugh was heard from her back office. "Shit, that laugh means her meeting ends soon; I'm gonna go upstairs with the bag until they leave." As Dal nodded, she returned to the rigid position she had let go of slack during their conversation. Clem ran up the stairs, two steps at a time. She was being too loud, but she didn't care. She cursed as she tried the knob; it was locked. Granny never allowed Widows to keep anything of value in the house for more than a day but insisted all the doors remained locked. Clem dug in her pockets for lock picks but only found one part of the set. She must have dropped the other earlier.
Clem swore under her breath; this was the fourth set she had lost in a month. Leaning into the door, she heard three men's voices; she knew they must be of a higher class than the Barrel if she was having them meeting here. When dealing with highborn, she liked to imitate their intonations, so they thought she was one of their own. Clem wondered if Granny was meeting with different shops about selling jurda sticks in their stores. Clem was supposed to do it, but she had pushed it back a day or two. She wasn't sure she was the right person for the job anyways. Most shopkeepers were middle-aged men; they wouldn't take someone like her seriously.
Why would she have Dal out with a rifle if she's meeting with shopkeepers? She questioned herself. Seeing that Barrel tactic used in their formal meeting would scare them off.
Something wasn't adding up. Clem heard the door shut and could then hear Granny's voice.
"Is she upstairs?" Dal must have nodded because Granny immediately called up. "Clem, come to my office; bring the bag." Clem grimaced as she glanced down at her physical appearance. She knew Granny would never show her full wrath, but it wasn't a great look and could be misconstrued as weak. Trying to muster her courage, she hoped her face had bruised, making her look wrecked and pitiable. Clem went down the stairs and scowled at Dal.
"Traitor," Clem playfully teased. Dal looked completely affronted and lifted their arms in the air, yelling.
"What was I supposed to say?!"
"Leave him alone." Clem heard Granny say as she entered her office. Granny had met Dal, thought they were a 'he,' and always called them such. Dal didn't mind it and was flattered that Granny had known their true self before anyone else. "Close the door," Granny added, without needing to, as every meeting with Granny was closed door.
"What happened to the bag?"
"How'd you know?"
"What do you mean how do I know? I'm looking right at it!" Clem shook her head; she was too tired and assumed Granny had already known what had happened and was trying to catch her in a lie. Granny had a way of somehow knowing everything.
"Sara and I got jumped, but we fought 'em off. One is dead, but we ran off too fast to see if the other lived."
"Who were they with?"
"Don't know yet; I was too focused on the money." Clem never struggled to lie to Granny; it was one of her few natural skills.
"Clementine, what is a few thousand Kruge to the insult we got? Being publicly attacked is not an option."
"I don't think I should have handled the deposits; it was obvious what I was carrying; it could have just been some random men."
"But now we won't know." Granny stared, piercing Clem with a glare. Clem had noticed Granny had become less patient lately. Clem could feel Granny's resistance to letting any issues go.
"Who was your meeting with?" It was rare that Granny wouldn't let her in on her meetings. Instead, Granny had usually let her in on all the behind-the-scenes so Clem could understand how to manage.
"If you thought about it, you could figure it out."
This took Clem aback. She thought about it and could come up with no likely ideas except for storekeepers selling jays. Her face softened, and she made her voice gentle.
"Granny, is there something else going on?" Clem asked tentatively. She tried soothing Granny, but Granny knew her too well and recognized it. However, she also encouraged her to keep trying. Granny absently waved her hands, almost warding off Clem's compelling attempts.
"Clementine. What time in the morning do you get up and think, I wanna fuck over my grandmother?" Clem gulped; she waited. She had heard Granny asking these cruel rhetorical questions to other members; she would almost burst out laughing if it hadn't made her so intimidated. Does she want a specific time? Because she's not allowing me to refute that I am fucking her over.
"Kaz Brekker is back in town." She added, not waiting for an answer.
"Is he? I hadn't heard." Granny rolled her eyes; Clem's years of joking had allowed her to sometimes pass off her total ignorance as sarcasm.
"He is. And they're saying he's back and taking more ground. Do you wonder why aren't people talking this way about you? I have been impressed with you. You have come up with our best and most lucrative investment idea ever. And it has paid off, and so I kept encouraging you. But you haven't had anything new in years. In several, several years."
"Well, jays are beginning to sell-"
"That was Meg's, not yours."
"It was a combined prospect," Clem added defensively.
Granny slammed her hand on the table. Clem jumped. People spoke about how scary Granny could be, and Clem knew better than anyone as she had witnessed most of it firsthand, but it had never been directed toward her. However, today she wasn't so confident it wouldn't be.
"I'm beginning to wonder if my betting on you was a bad investment. I treated you better than my own daughter. And I was wrong." Clem's brain began to scramble at Granny's words; she had consistently retained Granny's faith in the past. She had worked hard and had the loyalty of all the Widows. Didn't she? She began doing a tally in her head of who would stand by her.
"Granny, I've just been giving you the space to run. I didn't want to compete with you, so I moved aside." Wrong move. Arrogance was the wrong play to make. She wants an honest conversation. What does she think the real reason is? Granny gave a harsh laugh in reply.
"Hah! You don't even know what you're saying. Is anything you say true?" Clem closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath.
"Granny, I want to run things differently than you. I don't think the Widows need to be as ruthless as you demand. I don't think we need to wield power in the same-." Granny interrupted her by pulling her smallest, oldest pistol on her. Clem's hands had shamefully gone up. As soon as they did, she could feel her mistake. She had just proven Granny right.
"How do you stop this then, Clem? Huh? Wield your version of power." All charm and schemes went out the window. Clem did what she always did when someone tried to bully her.
"Granny, please. I'm still learning. It's hard to follow your name. I felt I could never emulate you, so I thought I had to devise a new way. But you're right; it couldn't work." Clem blinked as the tears were forming in her eyes. Appeasing was never a strategy; it was natural. Who needs pride? When Granny saw the tears, she lowered her gun. Clem let out a breath of relief and dropped her hands. Granny had just confirmed what Clem already knew; all Barrel bosses will succumb to flattery.
"I'm going to begin letting word spread that Cora would take over the Widows if something happens to me. Since Nula…I'm lucky to be as old as I am, and Cora is a bit younger. I won't officially confirm anything, but the doubt that has already grown about you will continue to spread with my help. I doubt Cora would be so kind if she were in charge. She would maybe let you run The Study Hall or continue to run The Mice, but that's it. Don't forget to bring that money to the bank when it's open." Granny sat back and looked aside. If she didn't leave the room first, it was her way of dismissing you. Clem understood Granny needed no response or promises of what Clem would do differently. Clem left the room, unsure if she would try to make any changes.
Clem turned down the street and saw Sal, in the distance running towards them. Clem could feel it would bring another problem to solve and wanted nothing to do with it. She pretended not to notice and went for the door of the Res. Dal saw her, though, and ran straight toward her. Clem hesitated but opened the door and closed it behind her. Maybe Dal could deal with it, or it was nothing at all. Clem started down the hallway to the stairs when she heard the door open behind her.
"Mouse, it's Meg. Let's go." Dal yelled. Clem's head hung low. She suspected this would happen. When Clem gives Meg a deadline, she either meets it or completely ruins it by getting drunk. She didn't want to deal with a drunken, avoidant Meg.
Clem turned to address Sal.
"How bad is it? Can it wait?" Sal came in behind her, looking terrified. Clem took a few steps closer, sensing her level of panic.
"Mouse, please. I think she's dead." Clem was certain Sal was being dramatic, but she began to jog in their direction anyway. Sal and Dal broke out into a full sprint when they were further down the street, and Clem finally gave in and began running hard.
"What happened, Sal?" She asked between breaths.
"I don't know, I left for only a minute, and she won't wake. So I waited twenty minutes and then finally left to go get someone. I didn't know who I could tell, so I went to find you." Sal stopped. It was evident that she had been running for a long time. Her face winced as she began grabbing the stitch on her side.
"Go on, and I'll catch up; she's in her office." Dal hesitated, and Clem saw Dal become nervous for Sal's exhaustion. A reaction that was rare for Dal and only ever happened for Sal. Clem nodded to Dal for them to stay with their sister, and Clem ran on. It didn't take her long to reach the Warehouse. She burst through and saw everyone working as usual. No one looked up from their tables at Clem. Clem didn't want to create a stir and slowed her pace, opening the office's closed door and seeing Meg working at her desk. She looked mad.
"Clem! I did it; I did it. I think I got parem. And I think I know how to make it less deadly. I think I got it." Meg was holding up a bowl of reddish powder. Clem's eyes widened.
"Meg, what the hell happened? Sal just raced to me saying you were dead!"
'I wasn't dead; I passed out or fell asleep. I don't know, but when I woke up, I had an idea, and it worked. It worked, Clem. At least, I think it did; it has similar properties; I just need to try it. You see several weeks ago; we created a paste with za vee.The smallest amount of parem inhaled through your nose may be just as powerful but won't enter your bloodstream enough to make you addicted.' Meg was motioning to different substances that were strewn all over her desk. Clem's eyes landed on a thick yellowish paste in a small silver tin. Her eyebrows raised.
"Meg, have you been trying out your experiments on yourself?"
"Yes, but this is different; I can't ask anyone else to try this. If I do, and I'm right, we're set. I'm set. I will see if I can replicate it before I try it and write everything down so that it won't die with me-"
"No."
"You can try after me, but first, we tell Granny what I've done." Meg's face was filled with elation.
Clem grabbed Meg's hands; she was too tired for this conversation. It wasn't the time.
"Meg, NO!" She yelled. Dal and Sal entered the office. Sal, still panting, was relieved that Meg was standing.
"Sal, have you been letting Meg test things on herself?" Clem demanded.
"Don't believe her; it's only been on me!" Sal yelled desperately. Clem's eyes widened.
"BOTH of you have been testing things? Without supervision? Without telling anyone?" The machines could be heard whirring in the main room of the Warehouse. Meg was struggling to keep up as Clem's rapid speech became faster. Dal's understanding dawned upon them and their sister's danger. Meg removed her hands from Clem's grasp.
"You can't understand; this will work. I've gotten better. We've both gotten better. This isn't like anything before."
Meg sensed Clem's doubt. Clem had been watching Meg's experiment for years, had seen many disastrous results, and tested on unfortunate indentures. Incidents they both agreed they would never discuss.
"I'm not saying never; we need to slow down. I think you're right; let's make copies of the notes, see if we can replicate the process and look for a willing volunteer or two pay them. No forced indentures. Then we can see the investment prospect from Granny's perspective."
"Slow down?"
"I know you hate that, but yes. You know what happens. You get reckless."
"Did Granny tell you to slow me down? Did she tell you to try to stop me so that you can keep pushing back my revenge clause?"
"What?" Clem asked, filled with disgust at the accusation.
Clem was so focused on communicating her point to Meg using Hand that she failed to notice Dal coming over and slapping their sister. Sal hit the ground from the force of the slap and immediately reached for her face. Meg's eyes widened. She went to Sal, but Dal was already on her. Dal didn't take out a weapon, but they kicked, punched, and bit Meg with everything they had. Sal and Dal were both short, but Dal had the respect of the Widows for a reason. Meg, who had never learned to fight well, was pushing Dal off them repeatedly. Despite Clem's distaste for it, she knew how to dominate physically and quickly held Dal's arm's back so they couldn't move. Sal could be heard crying on the floor.
"Meg, you're banned from making, working or testing anything new until I've told the first bit to Granny; then, she'll come to you and ask for your explanation. I don't want any of this to get out!"
"You're not in charge, and you can't decide that!" Due to their rage and the fact that Clem couldn't use Hand while holding Dal back, they were both screaming.
"This can and will not be found out until it's ready and until we get permission."
"Or else, what?"
Clem had no threat ready; she tried to dig for one she had heard her Granny use.
"Or else you'll be praying for death."
Meg snorted a laugh in response. Clem could only snarl back and left, dragging Dal with her. She paused and turned back around.
"Meg, please, I'm begging you. It scares me, and if people find out, they'll target you or even Sal."
She turned to Sal. "Sal, that goes for you too. If I see you getting any ingredients for Meg or working on something with her, you'll be with the Mice. Both of you should be on rolling duty."
Clem walked out of the office, satisfied that Meg understood the root of her request. Dal had stopped resisting, but she didn't let go. She had seen Dal act compliant dozens of times, only to have them return to attack their victim.
Clem looked out at the Warehouse. One or two rollers had stopped working and had only begun again when they saw Clem exiting the office. She wondered what they had been able to see and was thankful the office was up a few steps but regretted the altercation taking in place in this location due to the glass windows.
"Let's go, Dal. We both need sleep." Clem held onto Dal, but with just one arm, Dal struggled to get out of the grip, but Clem didn't let go.
They walked up the streets back towards the Res for what felt like the sixth time. Clem knew she was tired enough to collapse upon hitting the floor and was glad, or else she was at risk of bursting into tears. Clem had never felt ashamed of crying, but she wasn't sure she was ready to manage all the feelings brewing. She let go of Dal, confident they wouldn't run by the time they hit East Stave. As they opened the door to the building of the Res, Win appeared in the doorway. She looked relieved to see Clem, which filled her with dread.
"What, Win?" Clem asked, releasing a sigh.
"Mouse. I am so glad; I need your help. I've thought about it and need your help. The Stadwatch, they tried to attack me last night. I don't know what to do-."
Clem interrupted her.
"Win, I don't want to hear it. You told me you were sure of your choice, and you are. You knew what they meant."
"But you said you would help, Mouse."
"Help, how? Do you want me to take down the entire Stadwatch? Do you even know which two it was? Did you get a name?"
"No…" Win said, her face filled with regret. Clem ignored it.
"Bring me names of who you want me to speak to, and I will, but if I start going after some shitty Stadwatch, it'll never stop."
"Right. Sorry Mouse." Win muttered.
Clem sighed, momentarily feeling a twinge of guilt, but she brushed it off; Win had to learn.
"It's ok, but if ever you're in trouble. Don't hesitate to come to me anytime." Clem patted her on the shoulder dismissively and went past her to bed. Already feeling less ambivalent about the approach she had just justified to Granny.
"Go easy on her tonight, Dal," Clem said, looking at them and sitting on her bed. Dal looked at Clem with a rare look of disgust. Clem was too tired to figure out why.