The Regenerates (12 page)

“People at bars are always well-informed,” said Kayn. “They see all kinds of people. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure they serve fruit juice.”

Ven sighed and followed him. Kayn did have a point.

Kayn walked into the closest bar he could find. It wasn’t seedy at all. In fact, it was fancier than Ven had anticipated. Everyone was considerably better dressed than they were.

Kayn walked over to the bar and took a seat. The sight was a little too weird for Ven to comprehend. He stood there foolishly for a minute, clearly the youngest person out of everyone present. Then he rolled his eyes and joined Kayn at the bar.

The bartender looked at him, amused. “Where are your parents, kid?”

Ven glowered at him. Kayn, who was already sipping a bright blue liquid, sniggered.

Kayn was still Kayn, after all.

A beautiful, dark-haired young woman walked up to Kayn and took the seat beside him, shoving Ven roughly out of the way. Kayn turned on a charm that Ven didn’t think existed and began a conversation with her.

Ven could have thrown up. His stomach lurched in embarrassment for thinking he and Kayn were starting to become friends.
Fine, then, I’ll do all the work.
He looked for someone who was sitting by themselves to interrogate, but everyone was either part of a couple or in a group. As Ven walked in between them, some of them began to snicker and jeer. He wondered if it was his clothes. He had been so used to wearing elegant Highborn clothing, but here he was in ugly brown and white. Although wardrobe was clearly not an issue for Kayn, who was now talking to two women.

Ven slumped, dejected and irritated, to an empty seat near Kayn and looked up at a broadcasting screen displaying the current events of various cities. The news announcer’s next sentence caused his ears to perk up.

“Next, we have a new development on the political situation in the isolated city of Cor. Stay tuned, after our short break,” the pretty news lady’s voice chirped.

Ven quickly turned back to Kayn, who was deep in conversation with the two women. He strode over to them and tapped Kayn on the shoulder. Kayn looked ashamed to be associated with him and the two women gave Ven cold stares.

“What do you want?” Kayn said smugly. “I’m not talking to the bartender for you, so don’t even bother to ask. If you want your glass of milk, you’re going to have to get it yourself.”

Beside him, the women giggled.

“Please stop trying to act cooler than you really are,” said Ven, shutting out the women’s affronted stares. “I think you should watch the news.”

He pointed to the broadcasting screen in the corner. Kayn grimaced, nodding apologetically to the women, and looked up at the screen.

“Good evening. This is Sheela Stone for the
Renneth Inquirer
. We are now back to our cover story. The isolated city of Cor, well known for its cult ideology and tight-lipped views regarding international cooperation, has been flung into a state of confusion. Kayn Stafford, whose photograph has not been released to the public and whose coronation date has recently passed, has been dismissed from his role as Grand Magistrate. Temporary leadership has been given to Kayn’s elder brother, Klaus Stafford, until further notice. Cor, which has few allied relations, has remained silent as to the nature of his dismissal, as well as when and if his coronation is still to take place. Stafford, whose election was decided after his father’s sudden death, has failed to respond to several trade treaties offered by Crion in recent months. Speculation has led some to believe that a neglect of his duties could have played a role in his sudden dismissal.”

This had been a bad idea. Kayn’s face was gray. He gave Ven a look of unfathomable loathing more powerful than the one he had given him on Abolition Day. Looking murderous, he turned and stormed out of the bar.

Ven ran after him to apologize but stopped and decided against it. It would be best to give Kayn time to cool off.

“I need to find Coralie,” he said under his breath.

Ven left the bar, looking around for Kayn, who was nowhere to be seen. The sky was now a deep, inky blue and the lights from the marketplace reflected on the water. The lateness of the hour didn’t stop the marketplace from being crowded, and smells of exotic food and fruit filled the air.

Coralie could be anywhere. Left without a better idea, Ven went up to almost every person he could find, asking if they had seen a girl with ginger hair. After almost two hours with no luck, he made his way back to the inn. He would start his search again in the morning.

When he reached their room, Ven tried to open the door, but it was bolted shut. Kayn was inside, and probably in no mood for company, or at least his.

I’ll just have to keep trying.
As he turned to leave, the door burst open. Ven wheeled around, just in time for Kayn to drive his boot hard into his injured leg. Ven cried out and collapsed to his knees as he felt a sharp, stabbing pain from the gash on his leg.

Kayn picked him up by his collar and slammed him against the wall.

“I didn’t know they would say that,” Ven said as calmly as he could. His eyes darted around, looking for something to use as a weapon, but there was nothing. He racked his brain hurriedly, trying to think of a way to retaliate.
The neck is a person’s weak point… I could jam my fingers into his throat…
“I thought they just had news about home that would be important. I didn’t mean to–”

“Just get out.”

Kayn let go of him and slammed the door behind him, leaving Ven on the floor. Disoriented by Kayn’s restraint, Ven got up and limped back out to the crowded street, frowning. Why had Kayn spared him? Was he waiting for a better time to kill him? With no idea what to think, he put that problem behind him. Coralie was more important.

Ven used the same approach as before, asking random strangers and describing her appearance. Another hour passed and he still had had no luck. This wasn’t working. He would have to think of something else. Where would she go if she was running away? She was unlikely to have any money on her, or for that matter, any food. What did someone do when they had nothing, and nowhere to stay? Though it pained him to think about it, he would have to imagine what a homeless person would do.

He decided to try something new. Instead of going up to happy couples, fishermen or late-night shoppers, he scoured the town looking for street urchins, or those less fortunate who begged for money or panhandled. He also looked for abandoned buildings that would act as shelter.

While he felt more confident about this method than the last one he’d tried, he still wasn’t getting anywhere. He was just about to fling something into the ocean in frustration when a homeless woman tugged at his sleeve. He turned around. He hadn’t spoken to this woman. It was as though she had come out of nowhere, emerging from the shadowy alleys in between the shops and houses.

“I heard you askin’ about a girl with ginger hair,” she said, giving him a toothy smile.

Ven’s eyes lit up. “Do you know something?”

“I don’t myself, but I think I know who might. Over at the other end of the wharf, there’s an empty diner. It’s awful quiet over there. Some kids live there, homeless kids with no families. They see everything, even though no one sees them. They’re bound to know something.”

Ven beamed. It was perfect. He handed the woman some money to thank her and headed off in the direction of the wharf.

The woman had been right to call it quiet. While the main part of town had been bustling even as night fell, this place was silent. Empty boats swayed on the water and seaweed gathered in a greenish mush around the wooden docks. Garbage lay everywhere. He looked around till he saw the flickering lights of the abandoned diner. Its glass windows were cracked. He peered into a dusty window, but couldn’t see anything.

He slowly opened the door, and its creaking hinges echoed loudly. Looking around the floor for something to use as a weapon in case things went awry, his eyes fell on the metal leg of a broken chair. He picked it up and peered around him. The lights of the diner were dim, far too dim to see more than a short distance ahead of him.

Moments later, he heard a soft voice from behind him.

“Who’s there?”

Ven turned around. A small boy was looking up at him with terrified eyes. The boy spotted the piece of metal in Ven’s hand and backed away.

“R-Rex?” said the boy. “There’s someone here.”

“Wait, I just need some help,” said Ven, gently putting down the metal chair leg.

Another, older boy, who looked to be around ten, walked up beside the smaller one. “Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m looking for someone,” said Ven. “A friend of mine who’s lost. She doesn’t have anywhere to go, so I was wondering if any of you might have seen her. She’s about my age.”

“How did you find us?” said the boy named Rex.

“An old woman told me. She lives in an alleyway.”

Rex seemed to be pondering whether or not Ven was trustworthy. “What does this friend look like?”

“She has ginger hair, usually tied up at the top of her head. She’s a little taller than me.”

Rex and the smaller boy looked at each other. Rex shrugged, then turned and yelled for another one of his friends. “Hey, Meek, get over here!”

“What is it now, Rex? I’m going to bed soon.” A girl who looked a little older than Rex scowled at him as she emerged from the dim room behind them.

“This guy says his friend is missing. Says she might be around here. She’s got ginger hair and she’s taller than him. Have you seen her anywhere?”

“What, just because I’m a girl, I’d know where she is?”

“Just answer the question, Meek.”

“What do I get in return, if I say I know?” she asked, looking straight at Ven now.

“I’ve got a little money left,” he said. “Actually, if you help me find her, I’ll buy you all dinner.”

“You’ll buy us
all
dinner?” she said, raising her eyebrows.

“Well, I don’t have that much, but I can get you something to eat, if you want.”

The children looked at each other. Ven was starting to get nervous. He hoped he wasn’t about to get scammed. He decided to play it safe.

“Look, no funny business, alright? I offered you food. If you don’t know where she is then say so, but don’t trick me. I really don’t need that right now.”

Rex glared at him. “Are you calling us cheats?”

“No, I’m establishing ground rules. If I thought you were cheats, my offer would have been much smaller.”

“Alright, then,” said Meek. “I’ll tell you what I know. A short walk outside Renneth, there’s a really big mansion where an ambassador lives. His daughter, Flora, is about the most spoiled creature you will ever meet, so spoiled that she uses her daddy’s money to hire new maids every month to do whatever she wants. We always sneak into her open window and nick all the sugared cherries she keeps by her dresser. A couple days ago these girls were lined up in her garden and she was interviewing them to be her servants. I’m pretty sure one of them had ginger hair. She was the only one with that hair, too.”

“Can you take me there?” Ven said quickly.

“Yeah, but the maids aren’t allowed to wander around the mansion, so you’d never find her. We’d have to pick a time where they’d be busy and distracted.”

“Like when?” Ven asked.

“She’s always throwing parties for her high-society snob buddies. I don’t remember when the next one is, though.”

“Isn’t there one tonight?” said Rex.

“Oh, that’s not a party for her, its some sort of business dinner for her dad. Those are almost every night.”

“That’s perfect, then!” Ven exclaimed.

“Don’t get so excited,” said Meek. “The biggest danger during Flora’s parties is all the drunken idiots. Her father always has armed security. They use imported weapons from Crion, and it’s pretty scary.”

Ven was short on time. He couldn’t afford to wait until this girl held some fancy party, hoping that Coralie would be there. “Let’s do it tonight.”

“Look, you may not care about getting shot, but we do.”

“No one’s getting shot. I just need you to steal something for me, and I’ll do the rest of the work.”

Meek and Rex narrowed their eyes at him.

“What do you got in mind?”

“I need some proper clothes,” said Ven. “Oh, and tell me more about these meetings.”

V
en was itchy. He was supposed to be used to wearing high-class clothing. The stuff he was wearing now might have looked flashy but its quality was abysmal.
You don’t get junk like this in Cor. In Cor you get pure silk, the finest stitched cotton and detailed gold embroidery.
Amused at himself and feeling nostalgic, he adjusted his dark blue military suit and crouched behind a bush in the garden of a beautiful mansion. It almost felt like he was back in Cor, on the grounds of the Grand Magistrate’s palace.

“You sure you want to do this?” asked Rex. He had brought some of the other, older children with him, along with Meek.

“Yeah. I think I’ll be fine. I used to live in a place like this once, so I know how to fit in.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Meek sneered.

Ven wanted to laugh at how twisted fate was. “Thanks, you guys.”

“Yeah. We’ll keep a watch out in case anything happens.”

“Be careful.”

Ven smiled at them. If things turned out well and Coralie was in fact here, he would have to think of a proper way to repay them all somehow.

He took a deep breath and gracefully walked towards the mansion’s massive front door. This was just like any of the social events back home. Nothing to be nervous about. He didn’t have to try and act like an aristocrat, he
was
one.

He knocked.

A man answered the door. He wore a cream-colored suit and a dark satin vest. He stared at Ven coldly. “Yes?”

“I’m here for the Ambassador’s dinner. I came here in place of my father, who is away on other business. I was told I would be allowed to attend in his place.”

The man raised his eyebrows. “Who is your father, exactly?”

“Craven Spiers.”