“Thank you,” Aina said, trying to hide her shock at everything Tannis had told her. “Why didn’t you mention anything about him earlier?”
Tannis’s gold eyes softened, and her next words made Aina’s heart race in a different way. “Maybe because I trust you. I didn’t feel comfortable telling the truth of what happened to everyone, but … I wanted you to know. I know we both have a lot of dark spots in our past, but since we’re leading the tradehouses together now, maybe we can help each other get rid of them.”
Tannis moved closer, leaving only a few inches of space between them—and Aina didn’t know how to reply. How many times had Kohl said kind words to her like Tannis just did, only to punish and taunt her later? She’d fallen for someone who only knew how to hurt her and had no idea how to move on from it. Every time she considered it, memories of Kohl came back and her throat closed up, her hands shook, her thoughts scattered. If she allowed anyone to touch her again, or anyone to kiss her, who was to say they wouldn’t try to ensnare her next? Or that she wouldn’t hurt them too? “Tannis,” she began. “I don’t know what—”
“It’s okay, I get it,” Tannis said quickly, stepping back. “I’ll ask the Sacoren to meet us tomorrow, all right?” They walked the rest of the way to the Dom in silence, Tannis slightly ahead of her. Aina’s ears burned the entire way back. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she get over the pain Kohl had caused?
They soon reached the Dom and Aina breathed a small sigh in relief—it was still there. Willow trees stood out front, blocking anyone on the street from seeing through the barred windows of the two-story building. The silver moon washed out the white walls while the red moon’s light gleamed against the oak door. Tannis walked in ahead of her, giving her one awkward grimace before going upstairs. The Dom was quiet at this hour, but well lit and warm. Tannis decorated in ways Kohl had never allowed. Pale yellow electric lights hung from the ceiling all the way down the hall in the shape of small stars, and a tall pot of flowers stood next to the staircase. Kohl had always kept the place cold and miserable, apart from his own office, all in an effort to keep his employees fighting to get what he had.
Aina entered the office a moment later. A candle cast a soft orange glow over the bookshelf, the chest of drawers, and the desk. She tensed like she always did at the sight of Kohl’s old things strewn about, like he might be watching her from the face of the clock, the whorls on the wooden desk, or the window behind it. The small, porcelain horse that had belonged to her mother sat on the desk now, dust-covered and like a specter in the dark room. Candlelight played off it, glimmering on the ceramic-like fireflies’ reflections over the river. She reached out, but halfway there, her fingers trembled and she let her hand fall back to her side.
If she touched it, she might remember her mother humming as she dusted the horse and everything else in their one-room home. If she picked it up, she’d remember Kohl holding it out to her without the slightest bit of remorse on his face; proof that he’d been her parents’ murderer.
Her hand curled into a fist at her side. She wanted to slam the small statue into the wall and shatter it into a hundred pieces simply because Kohl had given it to her.
But it was the only thing she had left of her parents. The old copy of the Nos Inoken on their table, the dried yellow flowers her mother had liked to put in her hair, the wire dolls Aina had played with, the overalls her father had worn to work every day that carried his lemon and cedar wood scent—all of that was gone.
With a frustrated huff of air, she turned away from the desk, leaving the horse untouched like she did every night. She shrugged off her jacket and draped her bloodstained scarf over the back of the desk chair, which made it look like it was more her own than some remnant of Kohl’s. It was getting too hot to wear them outside now, anyway. And maybe, seeing them in here would help her be less afraid of this room. Less afraid of ever being under his control again.
She went upstairs then, passing the room she shared with Tannis and Mirran, another employee who’d been in the Dom for years, and approached the bedroom where the recruits slept. Johana, the youngest one whom Kohl had only brought in a year ago, would be on the roof doing an overnight watch of the surrounding area. The other recruits—Kushik and Markus—were two thirteen-year-old boys who’d lived at the Dom for a few years. Aina had started sending them on jobs without supervision as long as they stayed together, and now they were still awake, chatting and throwing knives at a target on the wall to keep themselves alert before heading out.
When she knocked on the door, they both snapped to attention and their knives dropped to the floor.
“Before you go on your job tonight, can you deliver a message?” she asked, and they both nodded, asking no questions as she instructed them to go to Ryuu’s mansion, Teo’s apartment, and the safe house where Raurie and Lill lived, and ask them all to meet outside the safe house at sunset the next day.
Once the recruits were well-trained enough, she’d let them go on jobs alone and assign them specific roles: Blades, who would be assassins like her and Tannis; Foxes, who were thieves like Mirran; and Shadows, who were spies like the one Aina had killed earlier tonight. She only hoped they would all live long enough to get those jobs in the first place.
She tried to sleep, but restfulness eluded her. The lead on the warehouse tonight hadn’t led her to Kohl, and she was no closer to finding him than she was yesterday, yet her enemies only multiplied: Kohl, Bautix, the Jackals, even one of her own tradehouses. Half-awake, half-asleep, she dreamed of Kohl holding out her mother’s porcelain horse to her, his voice mocking as he explained that he’d saved her life by taking her into the Dom.
I was just doing a job, Aina, he said over and over in the dream, holding out the small statue with his arm tattooed with the mark of his old gang. The vulture hung by a string of diamonds stared at her. The vulture came back to life, and the diamonds wrapped themselves around her throat, choking her while he laughed and whispered that he’d save her again if she begged him to.
Help me, she said in the dream, and when she woke up covered in sweat, she wondered how far she could really go without needing him.
5
Sunlight flashed through the training room window and shone on Markus’s sweat-streaked face as he swung forward. Aina dodged his punch with a quick step to the side.
When he pivoted, the fear showed on his face: forehead creased in concentration, breath heavy and labored.
Aina struck out with the wooden stick she held. He dodged, but a little too late; it glanced off his side instead of jabbing him in the stomach. With his opposite hand, he moved to strike her newly open side, but she blocked it with her elbow.
Markus’s next step brought him forward, but when Aina stuck out her leg, he tripped, sucking in air sharply. Aina grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him upright, placing her wooden stick across his neck.
“Dead,” she said, then stepped back.
“I need a break,” he said, bending over to place his hands on his knees. Kushik and Johana both stepped forward, looking eager to take his spot in practice, but Aina held up her hand to stop them.
“Do you think an enemy will give you a break?” she asked. “If you’re tired, go on the defensive and let your energy come back. When you’re fighting for your life, it will.” She nodded at Kushik and Johana. “What else could he have done better?”