Adeline

For breakfast the next morning, Vera served us each a plate of poached eggs, sausage, and crusty bread—the leftovers of that which we'd prepared for the other staff. It smelled delightful, and it looked delicious, though when feeling anxious, food tended to become bland and dry. I had difficulty swallowing, but I'm certain everything was excellent. We ate at a small table in the kitchen, beneath the only window, where outside the weather was positively dismal. The silence between us would have been a comfortable one, if only I weren't mustering the courage for a difficult conversation.

"I'd like to think we've become friends," I said.

Vera squinted beneath her salt-and-pepper brows, laying the fork down with a pleasant-sounding clink. "Of course. What's this about, Abby?"

While considering my next move, I nudged the egg with my fork, finding a strange sense of satisfaction in the way it jiggled. "I have a confession to make."

"Okay…"

"I lied about why I was in the cellar that night."

"Okay…"

"I wasn't there to help. The truth is, I grew hungry in the middle of the night, and then I grew curious about what might be under the floor. I was snooping."

The cook leaned back in her chair, crossing her doughy arms as she tended to do, looking at me with wide-eyed incredulity. "That's your confession?"

But we all know it wasn't, don't we? It was the lie before my confession.

My heart sank into my stomach. "I was ever so worried you'd be upset with me, and I did something of which I'm not proud. I panicked, and I listened to your thoughts. That's how I knew you were feeling overwhelmed, and that it would be easy to make you think you'd asked for my help and had simply forgotten."

I braced myself for her to yell—for her to tell me I was a sad, sorry excuse and kick me out of the kitchen. But it was all that worry for nothing! There wasn't a single ounce of judgment in Vera's tired brown eyes—if anything, she appeared to be concerned for me.

"You can come to the kitchen for a snack whenever you like, Abby. Throw a party in the cellar, for all I care. I appreciate your honesty but why are you telling me this? I would have never found out, and I meant it when I said I've enjoyed having you here."

My heart sank into my feet.

"I'm telling you this because we've all done things. Naughty things of which we may not be entirely proud, but were, in the end, for the best." I pushed the prongs of my fork into the egg, watching as the bright yellow insides spewed from the holes.

"Okay…"

"I know what you did," I said finally, turning my attention from the mess on my plate to the middle-aged cook across the table. "But it's quite all right, Vera. I understand why you did it. And did you know, my very best friend is a murderer, too?"

To say Vera appeared stunned would be putting it lightly. "Abby…"

"But please—don't do it again. You know what the punishment for murder is, and you're about to be a grandmother. How lucky you are, and how lucky they are to have you. My own mother and I, we never saw eye to eye, and actually, I believe she sent me here to die. But I know how you love them, and you must be such a wonderful parent. Look how far you've gone to protect the employees at the Gander, and they aren't even family."

"They'll never stop," she said. "Those scumbags."

"Probably not," I replied. "But I have a plan to help the others. And I think you should tell Tanis. Not about the murders, of course—unless you want to—but that our friends are being mistreated at times. Actually, why hasn't anyone gone to Tanis? I can't imagine she'd stand for any of it."

There was a stasis between us, but even in the midst of our grim confessional on that dark and dreary morning, the air felt lighter than it had minutes before. Clearing oneself of a guilty mind was quite the cathartic exercise! The sausage tasted like sausage once more, and the bread went down my throat without a fuss.

"I live a rich life outside this kitchen, Abby—full of friends and family who love me. But I've never told any of them what my husband was doing to me all those years. Guilt. Shame. Fear. It's complicated. But Tanis is good people—gave most of them a home. Nobody wanted to disappoint her, or have her thinking they were ungrateful. They didn't want her to feel guilty, because she would feel guilty."

"I understand," I said, and I truly did. But there was something else I needed to ask. "Will you promise to stop murdering men with belts?"

"You have a plan to keep the girls safe?"

"I think so, yes."

"Then yeah, I promise. And I'll speak with Tanis."

We cleared the table, cleaning the kitchen in relative silence. It didn't feel as though anything had changed between us, for which I relieved. I had plans to meet with Everleigh Gloom later that day, but there was something I needed from Vera first.

I moved toward the burlap sack filled with the tiny peppers.

"May I have these, and may I use the cellar for something later?"

Vera shrugged. "Knock yourself out."

I thanked her, snatched the bundle from the counter, and turned to leave. But oh—there was just one more thing. Something else I needed to say to clear my conscience.

"Actually, Vera, I have another confession."

She looked in my direction and shrugged as if to say, "May as well." I turned in her direction, still cradling my peppers. "My name isn't Abby. It's Adeline. But please don't tell anyone. I'm supposed to be undercover."

Everleigh Gloom unfolded the map of Jaska from Step Two: Get a Map, and laid it on the crate between us. She pointed a thin, pale finger at each of the newly circled locations. I examined the dirt under her nails and I wondered how long it had been since she'd taken a bath, and why were they so filthy anyhow? I, for one, hadn't asked her to dig a hole with her bare hands.

"The ones with the Xs are the places she's already hit," she said.

"And the ones without were her future victims?"

"Right. And this," Ever scanned the map with her finger, tapping an unmarked home. "This one was her next target. This is where we're headed tonight."

"We?"

"You do want to come, don't you? Not that I need your help or anything."

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"Yes! I'd love to accompany you. I'll be your eyes and ears, Everleigh Gloom. If we're working together, what could possibly go wrong?"

"Well, loads could go wrong, actually. But it'll probably be fine."

"Were you able to get the belts?"

"Good to go, Abby Blaze."

"Then may I ask one more favour of you before you leave?"

Everleigh Gloom heaved a sigh straight from the depths of her anguish, but she didn't say no. I scurried across the room to collect the sack of peppers from the shelf, and once she had folded the map and tucked it back into the bodice of her dress, I set the peppers down before her.

"Could you remove the moisture, please? There simply isn't enough sunlight to dry them naturally, and that would take far too long besides."

The young Anima laid her hands atop the pile of peppers, and the waxy red flesh withered before my very eyes, aging a hundred years in but an instant.

"Okay, bye," she said, and then she was gone.

Well, she was nothing if not efficient.

Later that night, we took to the streets of Jaska to complete Step Four: Plant the Evidence. It went without incident, and the following morning, I checked in on Step One: Get the Bottles at the Glassworks. Katerina had a few excellent questions that I was happy to answer, of course. She expressed how motivated everyone had been, as well. It wasn't often they were given a project so outside the ordinary, she said. The progress had been smooth so far, and my order would be ready in two days. In the meantime, I crushed an infinite number of peppers and waited to see the result of Step Six: My Latest Creation.

Now, for Step Five: Inform the Captain, I started by ringing the bell.

Captain Kavelin wouldn't be expecting me this time, I thought as I waited, and waited, and waited until I rang the bell again. When the gate finally opened, a sleepy-looking gentleman with a short stature and pronounced bald spot glared in my direction.

"Who're you?"

Not again! Which one?

"A… d—Abby. Abby Blaze."

"And what do you want?"

"I'm here to see Captain Marat Kavelin."

"Yeah, you and everybody else," he said. "But no, not happening."

"Whyever not?"

"You can't just walk up and say, 'I need to see your Captain.' It doesn't work that way. Chain of command."

"I'm sure if you asked him, he would—"

"Nope. Can't."

"Whyever not?"

"I can't leave my post. Gate duty."

"Well, perhaps I'll just have to write a letter to your Captain instead—tell him you were sleeping on the job. I waited for nearly an hour, and you, sir, still have crumbs in your eyes and a hand print on your face."

"Are you blackmailing me?"

I pushed my sun goggles further up my nose. "Maybe."

I wasn't exactly sure if I'd scared him into compliance or if I'd charmed him into submission, but the balding man began to laugh, and so did I, and he opened the gate wide.

"All right, let's go."

There was no soup waiting for me when I arrived at the Captain's barracks, but the Captain himself was still handsome—even more so in uniform, dark blue and grey. He dismissed his subordinate, much to the short fellow's dismay, and we settled in at the desk.

"As promised," I said, "I found your murderer. And—"

The Captain raised an untamed brow. "And?"

"And," I continued, "the murderer is none other than the man who lives at this residence—" I removed my glove to point at the map. Not the map from Step Two: Get a Map, of course—that one was preoccupied—but my own personal map. "Eugen Bauer. You'll find if you search his home, he keeps a map of his targets beneath the floorboards in his bedroom, along with an unusually robust collection of belts."

"Huh. What was the motive?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked.

Captain Kavelin shook his head.

"His motive was jealousy," I said. "Many workers at the Gander have been abused by him. He didn't like them being with anyone else, though it was their jobs to be."

"Abused?"

"Yes, that's what I said."

The Captain frowned.

Everything I relayed to the Kavelin was true—almost. Eugen Bauer was a sick excuse for a man. I won't repeat the things he'd done to my friends with respect to their dignities, but his fits of rage were often fuelled by his possessive and jealous nature. The only thing that wasn't true is that I'd never met Eugen Bauer, and I'd certainly never read his mind. But, he had visited the brothel since I'd first accepted my assignment from the Captain. If Kavelin wished to dig, it was entirely plausible that I could have.

The Captain leaned back in his chair, and I leaned back in mine.

"Works for me," he said. "We'll bring him in."

"Wonderful! And while we're on the subject—he's not the only one, Captain. Several clients of the Goose and the Gander have certain dark tendencies. In any case, you should speak with Tanis. Surely you could come up with something to get justice for our friends—some way to make these men and women with certain proclivities pay for their actions?"

I peered across the desk toward the Captain.

"I'll talk to Tanis," he said, and without hesitation. "And good work, by the way."

It was my final day at the brothel, and the employees of the Goose and the Gander gathered in the theatre to have drinks and celebrate my stay. From behind the bar, I fetched a small wooden crate—its contents clinking as I scurried back toward the crowd. I set the crate down on a table otherwise brimming with empty glasses and dirty plates. Inside the box were the six perfume bottles, one for each private room in the brothel.

"I made you all something."

I displayed an example to the room. The deep, rusty red contents within the bottle inspired a collective of ooohs and aaaahs.

The receptionist approached the crate, but I caught his hand before he could select a bottle.

"Believe me, you do not want spray yourselves with it," I said.

"Then what are we supposed to do with it?" another asked.

"Yeah, I thought you were giving us perfume."

There was an air of disappointment, but it wouldn't last.

"Everyone, let me introduce you to my latest creation: firespray."

"Firespray?"

"Yes, firespray. A solution concocted using dried chili peppers and distilled spirits. When in contact with the eyes, it will render the receiver temporarily blind—striking them with a lasting, searing pain. If you are ever in trouble, all you must do is tell your client you need a moment to freshen up your scent, get your bottle, and spray him or her in the face! Perhaps you could stash it in the nightstand, or within your bosom. Whatever the case: close your eyes, squeeze the ball, spray them in the face. I repeat: do not spray yourselves. After which, you will report the incident to Tanis or to the new bouncers, supplied by the city guard, who will be starting here next week."

The employees were thrilled with the new protocol—including Vera who would, hopefully, never have to murder anyone else again.

Before leaving, I added my own recipe cards to those passed down from bartender to bartender, and I said individual farewells to all my new friends, promising to visit again as soon as I could. Saying goodbye to Tanis and Vera was difficult and emotionally charged, but the job was never meant to be permanent. I had to return to Oskari. I had to find the others.

In other news, I hadn't seen Everleigh Gloom since the night of Step Four: Plant the Evidence, but I highly suspected it wouldn't be the last I'd see of the living doll.

I hadn't managed to earn enough money for a carriage ride to Oskari, but I had earned enough for a new pair of boots. The walk to Oskari from Jaska was long, and it was cold, but it was comfortable as well. It was also an excellent time to reflect on my stay at the brothel, all the new and wonderful friends I'd made, and the adventures I'd had. It had been the greatest time of my short life, and I owed it all to Feargus Finlay, who, like Enforcer Rhian, had seen me as a whole person—someone with something to offer other than a pretty smile.

I smelled the smoke long before I reached the outskirts.

It stung my nasal passages and hurt my chest, so I wrapped my scarf around my lower face and held my breath as much as I could the rest of the way. As I grew closer and closer to the village, the source became immediately obvious. Oskari itself was on fire.

How awful! I thought.

All those people, and all their hard work. It was already such a struggle, and it was finally starting to look up after the donation. How awful, but then again…

…if Oskari was on fire, it could only mean one of a few things, and the prospect of one of those few things filled my heart with boundless relief and endless joy.

Father Strauss was alive!

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