Sam

  They set out from the rest stop at dawn, continuing along the Iron Road. Things started out smooth, but as the morning progressed they began to encounter a lot of soldiers coming the opposite way in a steady trickle of mounted squads and armored supply trains. Pedestrians like Sam's group had to vacate the road entirely to give the soldiers space, walking on either side of the path. Merchant wagons, on the other hand, squeezed themselves onto the edge of the path, occasionally stopping until the militiamen had passed by so they could continue on their way.

  Sam was immediately on high alert every time she saw a glimpse of that black-and-red livery, the brim of her straw hat pulled low to conceal her face as much as possible. Fortunately, the soldiers did not appear particularly interested in her group, mostly passing by without more than a barked-out 'Make way!' in their general direction.

  At least with all those armed men choking up the road, they didn't have to worry about monsters or bandits that day. Stopping only briefly for a midday meal, they arrived at Timbryhall by early evening, a good while before night curfew.

  Just like Greensby, the settlement was ringed by a palisade. This one was taller, however, built from great big logs. It had watchtowers overlooking the area—bare earth for hundreds of yards around that had been cleared of all forestation—with manned ballistae ready to put javelins through anything with ill intent. The impaled corpses of twisted creatures that littered the earth—all fresh, as far as Sam could tell—told her that the ballista operators did not go idle.

  As suggested by the exterior, it immediately became clear once they entered Timbryhall that it was far larger than Greensby—a good-sized city compared to a wayside town. Even as it was winding down for the evening, the crush of people along the dirty main road was almost as suffocating as Sheerhome's anthill foot traffic.

  "What now?" Sam asked as they came out into a square, one hand holding Apples' and the other hanging onto Zero's stirrup to make sure they didn't lose each other in the bustle. She eyed the signboards of the streetside inns with great suspicion. "Should we find somewhere to sleep?"

  "Not yet," Mongrel replied, thumbs hooked through his belt, shoulders curled in his usual slouch. "Will said we should see about some friend of his, remember?"

  "True. Vivi, was that her name?"

  "Yeah."

  "How do we find her, then?"

  "Fuck if I know. I've never been to this shithole, and I sure don't know any 'Vivi'."

  "Riiight." Sam glanced over at Apples, but only got a furtive shake of the head from the young Farmer girl. "So what do we do?"

  "Don't worry, kid. I've got my ear to the ground wherever I go. Just leave this one to Uncle Matt."

  When he put it like that it definitely made her worry, but seeing as she didn't have a better idea herself, she let him go ahead with whatever he wanted to do. Leaving her and Apples outside with the mule, he took some money and went into the nearest dive tavern. What felt like at least an hour passed with no word. Bored of waiting, Sam bought some meat pies from a food place to share with Apples. The other girl only ate one—she must not have been very hungry—while Sam helped herself to the other three.

  She was beginning to think that Mongrel had gone and gotten himself stabbed in there when the old man finally emerged from the creaking doors of the tavern, just as a bell tower was ringing a sonorous clangor for curfew. It was nearly full dark, and the streets were nearly abandoned by this point. Lamplighters were moving about to fire up the street lanterns so the guards had some light to go by during their patrols.

  "Took you long enough," Sam muttered, standing up from the old water barrel she had been using as a stool and working the stiffness out of her legs.

  "Can't rush genius, kid," Mongrel said with his crooked grin as he approached at a lazy swagger, thumbs hooked through his belt.

  "Did you at least figure out where we're headed?"

  "'Course I did."

  Sam could smell sour beer on his breath once he got close. "Did it actually take that long, or did you stick around just for the kicks?"

  Mongrel's face instantly became the very picture of innocence. "Well, it would have been suspicious if I'd left straight away, wouldn't it? Had to make it natural, you know."

  "Uh-huh. That's the last time you go on an errand unchaperoned, old man."

  "That's unfair!" Mongrel directed an outraged pout at Apples. "New girl, tell her she's being unfair!"

  "I think she's… being pretty reasonable, actually," the girl stammered out, glancing nervously at shadowed alleys and street corners.

  Mongrel gave a loud harrumph. "Women!"

  Sam sighed. "Enough whining, Mongrel. Just take us to Vivi's place, please. If we can't shack up with her, we'll be in a hurry to find an inn before they close their doors for the night."

  "Only if you ask nicely."

  "Please, Mongrel."

  "That's better."

  Mongrel turned on his heel in nearly a full circle before finding the direction he'd been looking for and marching off that way. Sam rolled her eyes dramatically as she followed behind, and Apples let out a quiet giggle into her hand.

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  Mongrel took them to the less densely tenanted north side of town. After a bit of walking in circles and asking directions from nonplussed guards, they eventually found their way to a large, detached townhouse with three stories. It even had a little garden out front, the property protected by a wrought-iron fence. Whoever this Vivi person was, she clearly did quite well for herself.

  Sam was working up a cold weight of anxiety in her gut as they approached the gates, bars artfully crafted into leaves and climbing vines. A 'contact', Will had called her. But what if they were actually closer than that? What if she was beautiful? Vivi was a rather pretty name, after all… And now, to find out that she was rich!

  Sam did not like the idea of having competition. Not one bit.

  Mongrel tried the gate and found it swung right open. There was light shining out of the stained-glass windows set into the front of the house, so they walked along the path of white flagstones and up the three steps to the porch, Zero left wandering about the garden and sampling the bushes.

  Mongrel knocked. Sam waited, wringing her hands, biting her lip so hard her sharp canine punctured skin, left her sucking at the bloody needle-prick.

  The door swung open with a warm creaking of hinges, and there stood a homely, heavy-set woman in her late middle years, wearing a rich red dressing gown and with her gray-brown hair drawn up in a loose bun. She had her hands in the pockets of her robe, and peered out at them with small, hawkish eyes through a pair of round spectacles.

  Sam felt an immense wash of relief. Oh, thank goodness. She was well out of Will's age range. Unless he preferred older women? Oh dear… But no, that didn't sound like him at all. She was probably safe.

  "Ah, it's you," said the woman, taking a step back from the door to permit them entrance, soft slippers swishing on worn-smooth hardwood.

  "Are you Vivi?" Sam asked, removing her hat to be polite.

  "I am," the woman replied with a thin but genuine smile. "Forgive me for the impoliteness, but would you mind giving me the password? Troubling times, these—better to be safe than sorry."

  "Uhhh…" Sam glanced at Mongrel, who gave a shrug of indifference. "I don't think we have a password? But Will told us to find you, is that enough?"

  Vivi sighed, taking one hand out of its pocket to rub at a brow just beginning to crease with age. "That boy is a mystery to me. Astonishingly clever at times, but he'd lose his own feet if they weren't attached to him. Of course he didn't give you the password."

  "Sorry," Sam said, running a hand sheepishly through her hair, which turned to nervously pressing on the soft spot of her skull.

  Vivi clicked her tongue. "Not your fault, dear. Although, without a password, I'll have to insist on Identifying you to confirm that you are who you claim to be. Any objections?" She spoke with the stern, no-nonsense tone of a school teacher used to dealing with unruly children.

  "No objections here," Sam said quickly.

  "Whatever you need, darling," Mongrel said with his sleaziest grin. "You can give me a pat-down too, if you'd like."

  Vivi pointedly ignored the comment, her attention still on Sam. "Very well. Go ahead and lower your mental defenses for me, dear."

  Sam hadn't been maintaining any mental defenses in the first place, so there was nothing to lower, but she didn't want to seem stupid, so she held her temples and made a low grunt of effort as she pretended to… un-shield herself, or something.

  "Identify (Three)," Vivi said, and spent a few moments looking at each member of the group in turn, studying them intently. Sam squirmed uncomfortably under the older woman's firm gaze. She felt like she'd been called to the principal for getting in a fight, the authority figure in the process of deciding how much blame to assign each party involved.

  "Samantha Darling and Matthew Caldwell," Vivi said, nodding with a satisfied click of her tongue. "All appears to be in order. Will told me to expect you."

  "Great!" Sam said, smiling with relief. "Then, would it be all right if we come inside? Also, you can just call me Sam."

  Vivi held up a chubby finger. "Not so fast, Sam. I was told to expect two visitors. Who exactly are you, Molly Carlsen?"

  "Um…" Apples stammered, trying to make herself small behind Sam and Mongrel.

  Vivi curled her still-raised finger, calling the plump young woman forward. "Now is not the time to be coy, dear. My profession necessitates a certain level of discretion. If you can't satisfy my curiosity, I'm afraid I can't allow you inside."

  Apples crept forward, cheeks flushing hard in the light that spilled through the open doorway, and struggled to form words—without much luck, except for a few strangled noises.

  "We met her yesterday," Sam supplied, putting an arm around the girl to calm her down. "She goes by Apples. She was a serving girl in Greensby, but she was unhappy there, so we agreed to take her along with us until she finds a better place to live somewhere along the Iron Road."

  Vivi's brow wrinkled into a frown that only deepened with each word coming out of Sam's mouth. "Is that supposed to be a joke?" she asked.

  "Uh, no."

  "Do you really work with Will? This doesn't seem like the type of thing he would sign off on at all."

  "I don't always listen to him."

  "Clearly." Vivi sighed, making a vaguely dejected gesture with her hand. "Well, do you trust this random woman you met yesterday enough to let her in on the details of a plan that will likely decide the fate of an entire octant?"

  "Yes."

  "Y-You do?" Apples asked.

  Sam nodded seriously, and squeezed the girl tighter.

  Vivi gave a small, incredulous laugh. "Goodness gracious, what has that boy brought to my doorstep? Ah, what the hell, in you come. I suppose I won't be needing this." She took her remaining hand out of the gown's pocket, withdrawing a slender six-shooter revolver in the process. She made a show of uncocking the hammer with a sharp click, then set it aside on a small table.

  Sam and Apples stepped over the threshold, but Vivi held Mongrel back by poking an accusatory finger into his chest. "Mr. Caldwell, I'm afraid you'll need to find separate accommodations for your horse. I don't want it chewing up my garden."

  "Aw, c'mon," Mongrel whined, making a broad gesture at Zero who was busy grazing with a supreme lack of concern for the human business going on around her. "She's harmless, look at her!"

  "How about this, Mr. Caldwell?"

  "Please, call me Matt."

  "Matt, how about this? Either you stay here, or your horse does. If you want to be a gentleman and give up your spot for her, that's fine by me."

  "I'll go find a stables," Mongrel muttered darkly, kicking his feet as he stormed down the steps and snatched up Zero's reins. He hurried off the property, the clop-clop of hooves on stone receding down a darkened street until no sign of the old man remained.

  "Is he always that charming?" Vivi asked dully, arms crossed as she peered off into the dark.

  "I think he was better than usual, actually," Sam said. "He tends to be on his best behavior around beautiful women."

  "Ha!" Vivi strode off inside, and Sam followed, closing the door behind her.

  Mongrel would be back eventually. Frankly, he could use a little nighttime exercise as penance for his earlier stunt with the tavern.