“No!” George shouted, eyes wide with sudden panic as he realized the keepers were closing in around him. “I didn’t do it! It was those freaks!”

  Three keepers and Darragh surrounded George, the cook on the ship, The Floating Library. The rest of the crew were ambling about on deck. All stopped what they were doing to gather around and watch.

  A greener keeper might have grown nervous; perhaps some of the other keepers were, but Darragh was unbothered. He stood facing George, not coldly or with smug satisfaction, but brimming with blessed purpose. Red trotted beside him and stood guard, not growling, no teeth bared, but ready to spring at any sudden movement.

  Win’s cat familiar Winifred sat a ways back, tail flicking with annoyance. Darragh’s thoughts drifted back to the room they’d shared, of passionate devotion, but he pushed those thoughts aside. Darragh needed to focus on the present moment.

  “Unroll your sleeves,” he ordered.

  George’s face took a panicked expression. His voice broke. “Why? It was the travelers. You all know it!”

  “Unroll your sleeves, George,” Darragh ordered a second time, with greater edge.

  George looked around for support but found none. Then he scoffed and rolled down his sleeves, and just as Red had sniffed out, blood drops stained George’s sleeves. Murmurs went through the crew as people saw the evidence. Even George’s fingernailbeds were stained.

  “That means nothing!” George screamed. “I’m the ship’s cook! I get blood on me sometimes!”

  Darragh looked over at the captain and first mate, both looking silently devastated. “Do you keep records of the animals on board?”

  The first mate answered with seething rage and unblinking eyes, boring holes into George’s face, “We do, and I know George is lying. The chickens are too valuable at their present age to slaughter, and the last of our lamb stock was dried and cured days ago, so that blood is too fresh to be animal blood.”

  George looked shocked, confused, and betrayed. His screams became higher and desperate. “No! You know me! Don’t do this to me!”

  The captain said sadly, “You did this. No one else.”

  That took all the air out of George. His shoulders collapsed. Then his expression shifted from desperate to furious. “Kevan was a bastard and a whore! You all know it!”

  The first mate spat at him. “And we knew you were fucking him, too! No one cared.”

  “Me and half the ship!” George whined.

  Darragh recognized Jonny, shouting with tears in his eyes, “That’s a lie! It was just me! I asked him to be my first, and you killed him for it!”

  George was hyperventilating. “That’s not… He was… You can’t, I…” Then George’s face took on a dark expression, and Darragh knew it was time to act.

  Darragh dilated his perception of time. In slow motion, he watched George reach for a hidden knife and make a sudden dash for Jonny, with clear intention of killing the young man. Darragh pressed himself forward against the crawl of time, positioning himself between the two, and reaching to intercept George’s arm. As George slashed with his knife, Darragh grabbed the man’s wrist with one hand and his fist with the other. Darragh spread his feet wide and pulled the knife down and into George’s knee. As the knife embedded itself into bone, Darragh released the time dilation, and George collapsed into screams of thwarted rage and agony.

  The other keepers rushed in, full of self-conscious inadequacy. Darragh was satisfied with his work, so he let the other keepers restrain George and carry him to the mines. Darragh was at last free to ponder his new position, and the many positions he’d rather be in…

  A “meow” brought Darragh back to reality. He turned to see Win, silently observing, a smirk on his face. Darragh’s heart skipped a beat.

  “That was nicely handled,” praised Win. “I was right to trust you with this.”

  Darragh almost fell forward with pride.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Walk with me,” Win invited/ordered.

  Darragh followed Win off the ship and onto the copper streets of Pier. A green patina covered every surface but the newly constructed wall surrounding Pier. Dawn was breaking. Breakfast purveyors were washing the street in front of their establishments, but the streets were mostly empty. Darragh walked just a bit behind Win, respectfully, reverently.

  “Step closer, keeper,” Win said. “Winnie, Red, hang back. We’re having a private discussion.”

  Win’s cat familiar and Darragh’s red setter both stopped. Red whined quietly.

  They ambled slowly forward. Once everyone else was out of earshot, Win spoke very softly, “Can I count on you again?”

  “Yes,” Darragh begged.

  Win’s stunning green eyes narrowed in a hidden smile. “Good. I need you to keep tabs on that family. The concierge told me they were housed in Nightlife District. Tomorrow, they’ll start work at Strangers. I want to know where they go, what they do, and who they talk to. They told me they intend to bring the little one to the college. I don’t think they know how Admissions works. They’re likely to cause a ruckus once they realize their daughter has been abducted, and I need you to alert me before that happens. They’re no good to me in the mines.”

  “What are your plans for them?” Darragh felt like he was in a dream. Whatever answer Win gave him, he would have accepted.

  Win looked thoughtful for a moment and said, “I haven’t decided yet. I’m still assembling my own team.”

  “So we’re a team?”

  Win laughed like he’d heard a funny joke. “You’re on my team.”

  Darragh smiled and nodded and felt a little empty inside, but also excited. He’d been so alone since he came to Garden. A little emptiness was nothing compared to the yawning void he’d felt for years. He felt practically full to the brim.

  Win stopped, turned, and grabbed Darragh by both biceps. Grinning, Win said, “I can feel your excitement. Now feel mine.”

  And Darragh felt alive, like he was a young man again and on the cusp of greatness.

  -8-

  Darragh did as he was told. He trailed the three strangers at a safe distance. When they turned a corner or he lost sight of them, he’d rely on Red’s keen sense of smell.

  It was late in the afternoon when they arrived in Nightlife District. Darragh watched them enter their new home, and later, while eating a supper of rice and curry out of a bag, he watched Plenty leave and walk to Strangers.

  Darragh couldn’t follow Plenty inside. Darragh wasn’t on the illustrious list, and besides, familiars like Red weren’t allowed inside Strangers. Little was known about the place, but everyone knew that much. So Darragh got a cup of bitter tea and waited for Plenty to come out. It didn’t take long. Plenty went back home, and Darragh saw the lights turn on.

  Did the girls leave? Darragh wondered. Why were they waiting in total darkness? Do they not know how to use their aether battery? How backwards are these people? What does Win see in them?

  Darragh wasn’t trying to be jealous, but he’d followed them all day and night, and he hadn’t learned anything to report that Win didn’t already know. Darragh was getting tired and irritable. He rubbed his eyes and thought back to the private room he and Win shared. He remembered how good it felt, and he waited.

  Nightlife was dark and winding, with endless places to observe undetected. Darragh was sitting on a bench several blocks away. Red was resting under the bench. They were both hidden in shadows.

  Before long, both the adults exited the building and walked to Strangers. Darragh followed them while Red waited and watched the home.

  That girl was too young to be left alone while you both go out and party, Darragh thought. What does Win see in you people, anyway? You just look dangerously irresponsible to me.

  He watched them enter the gates of Strangers and disappear behind its doors. All this was happening exactly as Win predicted. Darragh was beginning to fear he would learn nothing new of any value to Win. Perhaps he should go home and sleep for a few hours before intercepting them at Admissions.

  Darragh collected Red and began the long walk back to his own bed. He spared one final glance at Strangers to finally witness something new and valuable to Win: the strange woman was talking to someone. Red identified him as Xavier Gato.

  -8-

  Mercifully, Darragh’s apartment was centrally located, so while it took him the remainder of the night to get back home, at least he got some sleep in before the next part of his assignment.

  Red woke him up with whisker/tongue kisses, as he’d been instructed to do. Darragh grumbled through the morning motions, and then he hurried down the road to a cafe near the base of the Pillar. He ordered breakfast and bitter tea, and he waited.

  The day passed and Darragh had to order lunch to keep the table. Purveyors gave food away, but seating establishments with prime locations were often given license to charge. It was almost time to order dinner. Darragh was starting to worry they weren’t coming today, or perhaps they already came while Darragh was still sleeping.

  All the bitter tea was contributing to Darragh’s agitation, but he needn’t worry, because finally, he spotted two figures moving swiftly to the Admissions building. Darragh settled his tab and instructed Red to contact Win through his familiar.

  Then Darragh rushed over to Admissions, hoping he wasn’t too late.