Sleepless (Curse of the Blood Fox Trilogy, Book #1) (2 page)

The boy’s face went blank, then
tightened. Another child stepped up, a nervous little imp who was a whole head
shorter than the first one. He didn’t look at me, just grabbed the angry boy’s
wrist and tried to lead him away. The boy stumbled a step or two, but then
pulled his hand back and turned to me.

“You think you’re so mighty, don't
you?” he cried, spit flying off his lips. “I’m not afraid of you, you stupid
blood-taker! Sneaking into people's homes, messing with their lives like you
got the right. How would you like it if someone came and slit your throat in
your sleep just ‘cause you were there?”

I stared at him. He had a brave young
face, sun-bronzed and vibrant, with tears mudding his dirty face. I wanted to
grin and laugh and shout at the beauty in those scorching little eyes.

That would not be appropriate in this
situation
, I reminded
myself sternly.
This is a sad moment, remember your manners. He is only
expressing his hurt over your lack of understanding for his situation.

“I am sorry for your loss,” I said,
and bowed my head respectfully. “You have my very deep condolences.”

The young boy gaped along with the
small crowd, and as he did not respond and I was in a hurry, I ruled it a sign
that our meeting was over. As I turned and walked away, taking a bite out of my
crisp present, the people who had stopped swarmed towards the boy. Their
voices, clambering over one another, reached my ears.

“Don't worry, yeh cheeky git. There,
there.”

“What kind of demon was that?”

“Poor little gnat… I heard a dangerous
merc went bad and knocked off his entire family. No reason, must have gone mad.”

“Doesn’t mean you can keep attacking
all the mercenaries that arrive in town, young man. What if that had been a nasty
one? What if it had been the Blood Fox?”

“Bah! Superstitions and tales. Too
many crooked money-seekers start out with a blade, calling themselves the Blood
Fox. The real one probably died off a long time ago.”

“Nonsense, they wouldn’t still have a
bounty out on his head.”

“He could be a mage-blood.”

I walked faster, and finally found a
way out of the swarms of people and into the quieter, seedier parts of the town.
The Little Flower was deceivingly desolate. It was a place well known as a safe
house for those who did not want to be noticed or bothered. Stepping through
the open door, I was met by a familiar, flustered face.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked from
one of the many doorways, wiping her forehead with the back of one sleeve. Madam
Jin was older than when I had last seen her, short and on the plump side, with
a small sprinkling of gray through the brown hair that was held back in a messy
bun. Her eyes lit the moment she got a good look, but her lips stayed
cautiously pursed.

“I was wandering if you had a
vacancy,” I said with a wide grin, tipping up the brim of my hat.

“Goodness gracious, I thought it was
you! Oh, you do know how to give my heart a scare,” she crowed, and ran
forward, clapping me on the shoulders. “If it isn't my little wandering fox. I
thought you were one of those young chaps traveling to join the Emperor’s new
fiddle-faddle war, the way you were dressed. Goodness, how long has it been?
Five years, if I remember right.” Her eyes twinkled. “What a mess you are, my
girl. I've heard rumors from here to Shinra about you. Keeping track of them, I
was. Killing marauders, bandits, and even nobles if the tales hold true. Some
organizations have a price bigger than a palace on your head. I knew you’d be
back someday, though. They never do catch you.”

“I have an easily forgettable face,” I
said. She snorted.

“You've got the wits of a fox, I dare
say. That or rabbit's luck.” She straightened her apron and cracked her plump
knuckles. “Here I go, getting ahead of myself when all you’ll be wanting is a
place to rest. Will a small room in the back do? I'm kind of crowded for the
week... the Lord Gersham's hoo-dah of a festival is starting tonight, and all
kinds of those who'd like to stay unnamed have been bedding here for the
events.”

“Festival?” I asked, placing my feet
carefully. The Dream was beginning to seep into the corners of my vision. “I
saw no flags or banners outside.”

“Yes yes, it starts this very night.
We're lucky to be alive to see it in our lifetime, I'm told. The Lords, you
know, they like to hold on to traditions passed through the generations. Every
couple hundred years or so—and this is just what them rich ones are saying, so
don't badger me if it don't end up being true—we get a full moon for a week.
It's a special moon. They say it turns a different color each night. Don't ask
me why the gods would do such a thing.”

“How do they know when it comes if it
doesn't fall on an exact date?” I asked as she led me down the small hallway.

“Oh, the same way they know you still
exist. Probably seers.” She pushed one thick arm out in front of her to stop us
both being bowled-over by a large oaf of a man as he sprang out of his room.
“Master Bartalow, have I not warned you already about walking these halls
carefully? They are small, and I have me many skittish guests. Be wary 'fore a
sword gets shoved straight through your gut.”

“There ain't no one who can shove a
sword through me,” the man replied, gruff-voiced as he stared at us with one
beady eye swallowed by a large face of scraggly beard, ruddy cheeks and thick
eyebrows. It seemed his other eye had been permanently shut for him, and was
now a mass of scarring and wrinkled skin. He sized me up quickly, along with my
two swords, and spat at the matted ground near my feet. I had already lowered
the brim of my hat the moment he appeared. “What're you looking at, shrimp?”

Madam Jin actually growled, a deep
guttural sound emerging from her throat.

“
That
was my
flooring
,
Master Bartalow, and it will do you well to learn some manners when you're
staying in
my
inn. That'll be five extra coppers for the cleaning job,
and don't think I have forgotten that you still owe me fifteen for the window.”

The man grumbled something and stalked
past us. I crinkled my nose. Either I really had gone completely mad with sleep
deprivation, or he smelled like fish.

“Anyway,” Madam Jin continued, “it's
supposed to be a lot of lavishness and entertainment. The events are paid for
by the aristocracy so there's more money in my pocket from all the guests and
nothing lost. They say they'll wait until the moon comes out tonight, and
whatever color it is,
that's
what they'll paint the town. I'm excited
myself... I got a couple different colored cloths from the market, and I'll
hang 'em up outside tonight if any of 'em matches. The town will be so lit up
it'll look like day.”

I smiled underneath the brim of my
hat, unlatching the piece of cloth that held it in place under my chin as we
arrived outside a small door at the end of the hall. “It does sound
interesting. Maybe I'll stay at least one more night. Is it the normal rates?”

“Of course not, I'm doing festival
prices,” she said with a friendly guffaw and a slap on my shoulder, “but for
you, my dear, I'll let the regular rate stand. Ten coppers per night, five more
each if you want me to clean up after you. If you raise it all to a half-silver
though, I'll give you access to the private bathing rooms I just had built a
couple months back. They're in a new courtyard off in the back, plumbin' and
everything, and you don't have to share 'em with no one. I thought my
particular type of guests would be pleased with this new investment.”

The sly look in her smile had me
grinning back.

“You do know your business. I’ll take
it.”

“Right you will,” she said resolutely
as I deposited a shiny half-silver in her square hand. She cleaned it against
her sleeves and placed it in a sack hanging from her waist. Then she opened the
vest she was wearing and thumbed through an array of keys latched to the
inside. She slid one out and used it to open the door in front of us.

“Alright my dear, here you go. You
know the rules, don't lose this key or you'll be paying a metalworker to make
me a new one. Lock the door behind you, I'm not responsible for anyone breaking
in... oh, and when you want to use the baths, let me know, yeah? I've got time
slots set up for them. The earlier, the better. Or during the festival
tonight... I can tell you, no one will be using them then.”

I nodded and took the key from her,
opening the door to a very small room about the size of two closets. It was dark
inside, the shutters of the one window on the back wall closed tight, but there
was a small table and chair in one corner which hit the edge of a sleeping mat
that reached to the other corner. Madam Jin's back rooms were never very
luxurious, but they were still infinitely better than dealing with the suspicious
looks and the questions in the top-notch establishments. Plus, her sheets were
clean and her floors were scrubbed, and one didn't need much room just to
sleep.

If only I didn’t have to.

I finished the apple in my hand and threw
the core into a small basket next to the door. Madam Jin sighed deeply as she
watched me unbuckle the swords from my back.

“Ah, my girl, yours is such a fate. I
was just a child when I met you, and now look at us. I’m getting old and
haggard, and still you look the same as the first day I saw you. This line of
work you’ve decided on… it really is such a waste, with an innocent face like
yours.”

“A waste? What does a face have to do
with anything? What can it accomplish in general?” I asked with a laugh,
stripping my robe off and throwing it on the chair. That left only an
under-cloth, and revealed the small, sheathed daggers bound to my upper arms
and forearms with buckles. One could never be too prepared.

Her eyes scanned the many scars on my
arms and middle, but she continued.

“A face like yours, so young, so
pure... it could move hearts. It could shake mountains.”

“How poetic. This isn’t about
marriage, is it?”

“Who's asking you to marry?” she shot
back. “I'm talking money—if you put your youth and looks behind it, your reach
would be endless. Spin 'em a couple stories, tell 'em a couple lies. You could
get high-paying positions, especially in your line of work. A downright shame,
it is. Like you've got no
drive
.”

That
made me laugh. Leave it to Madam Jin to give me tips on
business.  

“Good advice. I'm afraid I'm not
looking to make a name, though.”

“You've already
made
a name,” she
grumbled. “Almost like it's been following you around 'fore you were even born.
Whenever
that
was.”

“Well, I wasn't looking for it,” I
said, “and I'm not looking for wealth either.”

“You're looking for
something
.”
Her hard eyes pierced me. “Like a restless ghost that’s still got a body, you
are.”

There was a stab of nostalgia. Her
mother, the former Madam, had always said that very same thing. I turned and bowed
my head respectfully, holding back an unsettling feeling of vertigo. “Thank you
for your grace and guidance.”

I heard her let out a “pfft” of air.
“If that’s your way of getting an old nag to shut her trap, then you’ve won
this time.” Her eyes were amused and sad all at once. “You get some rest; the
bags under your eyes are darker than soot.”

She closed the door before I could
respond, and called through reminding me again to lock it. I did, with a slight
smile. Lives were so fleeting, and traveling took me many places, but it was
nice to have someone who knew me every once in a while. I fumbled the key out
of the lock and into my robe, forcing my heavy eyes to remain open for just a
little longer. I needed to make sure I was safe first. The one and only window
made me nervous, and I cracked the shutters open to peek out.

Beams of late morning shot through. My
room had a view of a short alley, where it seemed the workers from the saddle
and horse supply shop next door hid to play cards and smoke cigars. Past the
opening of the alley, hordes of people were spilling past each other in the
marketplace, probably preparing for the festivities.

It’s not optimal, but it will have to
work.

Closing the shutters again and
latching them tight, I blinked into the dreaded darkness and moved slowly like
my limbs were full of bricks. It always seemed to know when my excuses had dwindled.
The Dream made everything sway as I dumped my swords and pack on the floor and
peeled off the road-worn sandals that were stuck to my feet. Images of brightly
lit festivals ran through my head and immediately vanished into a darkness that
moved like a serpent.

I fell to the mat, and pretended that
I had meant to. Struggling to sit straight, I persisted in avoidance. I drew my
hair over one shoulder, a stiff braid that reached to my waist, and began
undoing the long, twisty black tendrils that had stayed in place for days. My
hands shook.

Avoiding the inevitable will never get
you anywhere,
a voice
that sounded like my old sword-master grumbled in my mind. I screwed up my
face. The Dream had a habit of taunting me with my past. Nevertheless, I missed
that old hag.