The invitation was awkward and stilted, served up like a measly peace offering. The orator’s treasure trove of vocabulary and finely-wrought speechcraft was wasted on children; she found herself at a loss around them.
At twenty-three, Ofelia Zhou stood with her hands on her hips, looking down at a pint-sized girl who was practically half the size of her. At first glance, she’d thought the child looked mousy. But a few minutes in her company had meant revisiting that first impression and amending it, filling in her image of this little creature that Leila had taken in like a stray. Just look after her for the afternoon, Leila had said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. But Fee didn’t have Azalea’s effortless warmth towards children, and she looked ill-at-ease with this new responsibility on her shoulders – but she was trying her best.
“We have chess,” Fee said, then realised her mistake a moment too late. Chess wasn’t a child’s game. “Or. Perhaps Jenga?”
Leila had told Audrey to be a good sport. She’d be gone for the day on an errand outside of Emillion, and she quite didn’t want to leave her in the custody of any of the other prostitutes. They had their own business to take care of and really children didn’t exactly fit well in a brothel. She couldn’t leave a ten year old up in the attic like a caged animal, so rather why not have Ofelia take care of her for a couple of hours? After all, all she had to do was make sure Audrey didn’t die. That wasn’t too hard.
Audrey looked up at Ofelia with big eyes. She had seen her a couple of times before—enough to know her name, but otherwise the woman was a complete enigma. She didn’t work in the brothel, so she could only assume she wasn’t a prostitute. The girl continued to stare, burrowing holes through the tall woman. No words were exchanged, a subtle restlessness growing in response to her staring.
Chess was familiar. Her father and brother—no. To Ofelia, the sound of the word chess would have seemed to have shut her down. “Jenga,” she replied quietly. “I want to play Jenga.”
“Good,” Ofelia said lightly. She then went over to one of the bare wooden slats that served as a shelf, stood on tiptoes, and pulled down a dusty box. (She’d brought over the board games years ago, to fill up Leila’s shelves for some birthday celebration or other, but the men here didn’t pay their women to play games. Not this kind, at least.)
“Have you played it before?” The woman tried to affect a kind, matronly tone of voice as she settled down at the nearest table, legs folded neatly beneath her. She didn’t consider herself innately maternal, but she could pretend to be, at least, cobbling together the image from roles she’d seen performed.
Audrey nodded before making a confirming sound. Leila did her best to keep her distracted—usually with games or asking her to play outside. At night when the Sapphire House got their business, it was a little more difficult. She bought the girl books (stories from The Great Bard seemed to keep her mind away), among other trivial little games. The gift Ofelia brought was for two, and therefore Audrey only played it when Leila felt like she had to distract her personally.
“A couple of times, “ she replied. She sat down, bending her knees and crossing her legs over each other. Resting her hands on her thighs, she looked on as Ofelia sat. Once the box was set on the floor, Audrey watched on curiously. She knew how to set it up, at least how Leila had taught her. Taking the box into her own hands, she switched her hand with the lid and flipped the box over. Sliding out quickly from underneath, she lifted the box carefully. Audrey grinned, but the moment she looked up to meet Ofelia’s eyes it disappeared unsure if this was something she should be grinning out. Seriousness took over, and she sat quietly.
Ofelia made a gesture with her hand, a small dismissive flutter of the fingers. “No need to be formal or sombre with me... Audrey, was it? I’m hardly anyone. Barely out of apprenticeship, me. So go ahead, set it up.” She watched as the box was carefully opened and the girl set to the construction, small hands stacking the wooden blocks on top of each other in a pile. And as she watched, the orator found herself talking. Of course.
“It’s a good game because it teaches steady hands. Which is a remarkably important skillset in our... guild. Patience, too, and not losing one’s temper. And spotting weaknesses.”
“Ah, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “Yes, Audrey,” she confirmed with an excited nod. The girl was still getting used to her name and often times found herself answering with enthusiasm as if to keep it in her memory. “Your name is,” she paused, unsure, “Ofelia?” Leila had mentioned it earlier, asking the girl to obey whatever the woman said. When she brought up the guild, the little girl couldn’t help but tilt her head to the side. “What do you do?” she asked.
“Ofelia, yes. To put it simply: I talk. I write, analyse, and perform speeches and monologues, with the occasional turn on the stage.” Ofelia’s smile was closed-mouthed and wry. This was her bard cover, but it was close enough to the truth. “They call it oratory.”
“So you’re like… an actor?” Audrey was trying to make sense of what she was saying while her eyes were focused on the stacked blocks in front of her. Her small finger felt through the side of the tower, poking and feeling where the loose block was. After finding a fairly easy one from the center, she stacked it on top. “I always wondered if it’s hard to be an actor. If you get lost with all the characters your play.”
Fee mulled that one over – straight from the mouth of babes – as her long, spider-like fingers smoothly withdrew another one of the blocks. Like threading the eye of a needle.
“It can be hard, but I think I’m up for the task.” And then Ofelia spun the topic at hand, shifting it around and redirecting the focus to the little girl sitting opposite her: “And what do you want to be when you... grow up?” Her lips pursed, trying not to look too closely at their surroundings. Was the child slated to join the rest of the Sapphire girls when she was old enough? Ofelia tried not to judge, but the prospect was an unappealing one. Not so young, not this early.
Audrey quietly thought, her fingers feeling around the tower again, looking for an easy picking. Finding a loose enough block she pulled it out. Once the block was stacked on top, Audrey felt as though she could slowly exhale having held her breath the entirety of the time. After a long, yet thoughtful pause, she started. “I like to climb,” her eyes had never looked Ofelia in the eye the entire interaction but for a swift moment they checked to see her reaction. Mother didn’t find it suiting of a lady to climb trees and buildings, not to mention those dreaded flips and handstands she’d do.
Placing her elbow on her knee, she rested her cheek on her palm. “Maybe I’ll run away with a circus.”
“Running off to the circus is a perfectly Bards Guild-type activity,” Ofelia said, a smile lurking on her lips. “I suspect you’d fit right in with us.”
02.
Just outside Emillion, Audrey stood in the middle of a target range. Her eyes were focused on the targets twenty feet away before redirecting her attention back to the tall woman behind her. “You want me to what?” she began, looking down at the hand she had been dealt. Audrey was already a pretty proficient juggler, but to throw cards? She had been ready to touch the edge of one of the cards with her finger when Ofelia’s voice stopped her.
“To hit the bullseye, or at least as close as you can get.” Ofelia leaned against the bench, her arms crossed, examining the target in the distance. After a period of rumination, she’d finally decided to hand over her finest deck for this practice round. The metal would not not dent, the edges were razor-sharp (children had to learn how to handle weapons sooner or later), and they would fly proud and true. There was no use practicing fledgling skills with sub-par equipment.
“If you can learn how to throw cards, Aud, then throwing knives will be no problem at all.”
Fee was only in Emillion for a couple days, briefly resurfacing with Leila and her girl before she’d disappear back into her conscious exile – but while she was here, she might as well spend some quality time on moulding the little ball of potential that was Audrey Leradine.
Audrey pursed her lips and looked down at the deck. It seemed sharp and the girl wasn’t amused by the idea of drawing blood on accident. The little brunette gave Ofelia a pleading look but she knew she would find no mercy from the woman. Well, at least this was better than being cooped up in The Sapphire House’s attic. Drawing her hand up, she practiced the flicking movement Ofelia had done as an example.
Lifting her hand she flicked the card sending it on a straight trajectory downward, embedding on the grass. Audrey stared at her failure wide-eyed. It had only made it three feet away. Sighing, she looked back at Ofelia. “I’m horrible.”
“It was only your first-ever try,” Ofelia said blandly in return, stepping over to lift the card from the ground. She brushed earth and grass off its edges, blew off the last of the dirt, and then retreated back across the shooter’s line.
“No one masters a skill right off the bat. Try again.”
Audrey nodded to her mentor, bringing her eyes to meet with the target again. This time she’d hit it. Sliding the card in her fingers, she practiced the flicking motion. With a sigh, she let all the air out of her lungs. In a lunging motion, she went forward, the card sliding from her fingers and spinning its way to the target.
Audrey brought down her hands to her side.
Turning on her heels, she looked at Ofelia, biting her lip. “Well, at least I hit a target.” The card was now embedded on the target to the right of the one she had been aiming at.
Ofelia tilted her head to the side to scrutinise her protégé’s work, and in that moment she looked very much like an inquisitive bird. “Well, at least it’s flying through the air now,” she remarked, bemused. “It’s a step in the right direction. Next is keeping it in a straight line, hm?”
Nodding, Audrey had crouched down and reached for another card in the deck Ofelia had given her. Picking the card up, she examined it carefully, feeling the weight and memorizing the dimensions.
Audrey closed her eyes.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
One lunge forward, she opened her eyes, and held her breath. With a flick of her wrist, the card went spinning away from her hand, embedding herself a ring away from the bullseye. A silent grin spread across her lips. No cheering, just a grin. Turning to look at Ofelia, she burst into a laugh.
03.
“If I give you a lesson, will you let me go back to bed?”
Ofelia peered out from under her nest of blankets, looking uncharacteristically tousled and unkempt, her hair a black crow’s nest. The last couple years and her return to Emillion had taught her that gambling was a late-night affair – whereas apprenticeship started bright and early with the dawn. Ofelia would return to their shared room in the attic of The Sapphire House, stumbling in and falling asleep only for Audrey to rise bright-eyed and bushy-tailed a couple hours later.
The gambler, on the other hand, had started living nocturnally. The games ran into the early morning hours, drinking through the night, the parties only disbanding when the sun rose and people staggered home with purses lighter or heavier.
They were not perfect roommates, by any means, but it was a temporary arrangement and there weren’t many other options. (And if Ofelia had to admit it to herself, well, she could have done a lot worse.)
Audrey was sitting beside her, legs crossed over one another as she leaned over her like a puppy. “You promised you were going to mentor me today,” she whined. Sighing, she had to agree. There was no use arguing with Ofelia. “Fine, but you should really consider your health. You shouldn’t stay out so late.” A few years later, the hypocrisy of this statement would haunt her. The now blonde reached to grab Ofelia’s shoulder lightly and shake her. “C’mon, teach me something new!”
With that she got up from her bed made of pillows and walked on over to her dresser to change out of her pajamas.
Ofelia grumbled, an inarticulate groan from beneath the sheets. But since they were living together, she’d learnt to relax her boundaries, and she was now letting the girl see her less-than-elegant and far from composed – Ofelia Zhou in her natural, unprepared state, in other words.
The woman slid out of bed, hesitating slightly as she put weight on her right leg. It was still shaky, her knee trembling, but the tremors subsided as she got back to her feet. She then went fumbling through the chest of drawers at the foot of the bed, finding a house-robe (imported Ordalian silks) to drape around her narrow shoulders, tying it shut with an efficient motion. She considered giving Audrey the choice of what to train, but sleep-deprived spite drove her to say something else instead:
“Fine. Have it your way, then: we’re doing lockpicking today.”
“Lockpicking?” Audrey couldn’t help but purse her lips as she put her hands at her hips and looked at Ofelia. She had been hoping all day for something more exciting. The blonde just had so much energy, she didn’t want to be cooped up indoors all day. At least not for training. With a defeated sigh, she sat back down and looked at her mentor. “Will you provide me with the lock then?”
“Of course.” Ofelia’s smile was broader than usual, and in that moment, she looked like a smug Cheshire cat. She unlocked the cabinet in the corner of the room, rummaged around in it for a moment, activated a Water spell with a snap of her fingers, and then pulled out... some sort of contraption.
It was a complicated lock teetering on a tripod, with the curve of a large water balloon bulging above it. Its open back exposed a nested web of gears and tumblers, but its blank face was nothing but a single dark staring keyhole. Bring it, it seemed to say.
“You can see what you’re supposed to do,” Ofelia said, handing a slim lockpicking kit to the girl, then settling cross-legged on a nearby chair to watch. Oh, this was going to be good.
Audrey didn’t like that grin. She watched her mentor unlock the cabinet, a little wary of what she might bring out. Eyeing the contraption, she looked back up at Ofelia questioningly. Nodding, she took the lockpicking kit from her hands. Opening it, her eyes skimmed quickly for the tools. Her confidence was fading. Sticking a pick within, she pressed her ear close to the keyhole, listening for the right cues that lead her to know she was doing a good job.
One click.
A sigh of relief escaped her lips, she looked back at Ofelia but she couldn’t get over the smug look the woman had. This was a trap-- this had to be a trap. Some punishment for having woken her up early. No, that wasn’t it. Ofelia wanted her to learn.
A second click.
Swallowing, she took a minute to sit back. Deep breaths were collected and exhaled until her nerves were calm. Audrey’s hand had begun to shake and it was beginning to be a real problem. Nodding to Ofelia, she continued and pressed her ear close again.
A third click and a scream.
Audrey was soaking wet. The water spell had gone off, and now she sat in her room dripping from head to toe. Brushing her sticky bangs from her face, she turned to glare at Ofelia. Picking herself up and heading out to the bathroom to get tidied up.
Back in their shared bedroom, the gambler’s composure cracked enough to allow some whooping laughter, almost teetering right off her stool as the younger girl shot her murderous looks from the doorway. A sad trail of dripping water marked Audrey’s path into the bathroom.
Ofelia was still giggling every time she met the girl’s eye (Audrey looked like a drowned rat), and the sound of that laughter made her seem ten years younger. Finally, her hysterics subsided in favour of the habitual ice-cool veneer, and she rose and moved to the doorway.
“Alright,” she said with a smile. “Call me Fee.”
04.
“I went out last night, it isn’t that big of a deal. I mean, you’re always out and about, aren’t you?” Audrey was annoyed sitting at the low table in her room. She was stuffing herself with leftovers she had found in the fridge. Leila must have gone out last night, she had left a note Audrey could help herself to the leftovers. Putting the cold dumpling to her mouth, she took a bite out.
“I was out drinking with Ari,” she was looking to the right, away from Ofelia. “Spent the night with her. I was too drunk to come back home.”
“Hmm.” It was a thoughtful noise delivered from across the table. “Well, you’re over eighteen. That’s your prerogative. I’m hardly judging. Was it fun?” Ofelia was nursing a mug of tea and surveying the girl over the rim; she’d watched Audrey’s habits over the years like a hawk (or perhaps a starling), slowly compiling all the little clues that coalesced into a lingering suspicion, but it was easy to brush those particular thoughts aside.
(Helping solve the crown’s problems was simple enough – but tackling those of a troubled pseudo-little-sister, on the other hand, was much harder.)
Audrey stuffed her face a little harder until her cheeks were full of dumpling and matching that of a foraging squirrel. “I’m fine,” she practically spat out, struggling to chew all the food she had shoved in her mouth. There was silence in the room, the only audible sound being that of Audrey’s esophagus begging for mercy. Reaching over for a glass of water, she washed down the dumpling, covering her mouth with the back of her hand as she burped silently.
Her eyes lifted to catch Ofelia staring back at her. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?!”
“Nothing,” Fee said mildly, a single eyebrow arching. Rising note of distress: check. Avoiding eye contact: check. Measuring the little inflections and hitches in the girl’s breath was still easy work; child’s play, despite the fact that her orator years were long in the past by now. Certain habits died hard.
“You really ought to get better at lying, Aud, if you’re a member of this particular guild.”
“Yeah well you really ought to,” Audrey cut herself off mid sentence, realizing she was going to say something offensive to her mentor. With a deep breath she let it go and went for the next dumpling. “Really? Then teach me, master Orator.” Her tone was sarcastic, reaching for anything she could scratch. “How do I lie?”
“Breathe evenly, and learn to master your heartbeat and breathing – keep it calm and level. A hysterical reaction is an immediate giveaway. It’s far easier to slip and end up over-exaggerating than it is to underplay. A blasé, almost bored tone of voice often works.” Ofelia’s own tone instinctively segued into that of teacher and lecturer, rattling off the same tips she’d learnt when she was in training.
“And for goodness’ sake, whatever you do, don’t avoid eye contact. So evidently you weren’t with Ari last night – who were you with?” She hadn’t been particularly interested before, but now her curiosity was piqued. A lie meant there was something to be unearthed. A lie meant there was something to hide, which automatically meant Fee wanted to know.
Immediately she began to apply the advice Ofelia was giving her. Taking a deep breath, she leveled her breathing, slowing her heart rate and essentially forcing herself to relax. Calm. With another deep breath, Audrey looked at Ofelia straight in the eyes-- her gaze unwavering. “I was with Cian.” It was such a blunt response, but she didn’t know what else the Gambler wanted.
“He took me on a night ride on his hover bike, and he was so charming.” Audrey dug her face in her hands. “Ugh, this is just so stupid. I shouldn’t have done it, but. He’s handsome, too.”
Ofelia choked on her tea.
It was an undignified moment, and went against every single lesson she’d just been recounting: the woman’s composure cracked as if struck by a hammer, a gaping rift opening up. She set her cup down on the table, coughing, trying to get her breath back, the water having gone right down her windpipe. With a great effort, she finally managed to regain her calm exterior, but that note of incredulity was still there.
“You what? With Cian?”
Audrey’s eyes couldn’t help but widen as she watched Ofelia’s mask break before her. Lips slightly parted she had begun to lean forward as if trying to find a way to help her. With that final cough, Audrey sat back down, her expression surprised by her mentor’s reaction. It was the tone of her voice that had cut through her-- a tone that implied Audrey had done something terribly wrong. For a brief moment she felt as though she was the favorite daughter, admitting to her noble mother the loss of her virginity.
“I.” she paused, swallowing down her fear. “I had sexual intercourse with Cian, yes. Is that,” yet another pause, “wrong?”
“He’s ten years your senior,” Fee said, her voice like splinters, trying to speak through this unexpected obstacle in her lungs. After a pause, she ploughed on: “Not that that’s necessarily a problem – I mean, I don’t judge such things – you’re both consenting adults.”
So then what was the problem?
The woman swallowed. It was time to close this box, replace the lid, and set it aside as if it never happened. Ofelia picked up her teacup once more, took another sip, and with that, seemed to settle a veil over herself: a still calm followed, each inch of orator instinct holding her reactions in check. When she next spoke, it was as if she’d brushed it aside without a second thought.
“Sorry. I was simply surprised. There’s nothing wrong.”
Her first words did nothing but help Audrey drop her head. That was the closest she’d ever get to being slapped on the hand by Ofelia. Her following words didn’t seem to help the situation. Clearly, it was a problem. Audrey’s frown remained, even through Ofelia’s apology. With a nod, she looked back up to her mentor. “I can tell it really bothers you. I won’t do this again.”
“No, do what you like. The last thing I want to do is become some sort of stuffy domineering matron.” Fee leaned over across the table, and lightly nudged the girl’s head back up with a tap to the chin “I keep forgetting you’re not a ten-year-old girl anymore.”
With the nudge of her mentor’s hand, Audrey looked at Ofelia wide-eyed. For a split second there was a vestige of that ten-year-old’s naivete. She tried to give the older woman a reassuring smile, taking her hand and holding it in both of hers. Audrey always held a high appreciation of the women around her that took a motherly instinct to her and she certainly felt lucky to consider Ofelia one of those matronly figures.
“Thank you.”
05.
Slamming the door behind her, Audrey walked into Ofelia’s office. She hadn’t realized the Orator was inside and when she made eye contact she bowed her head in apology. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t mindful of the wind.” Outside, the sun was shining and the trees showed no sign of a breeze. Clearing her throat, she placed a conspicuous package on the table. “I brought the thing.” Her words weren’t making sense and she seemed scatter brained.
Pausing, she looked out the window momentarily. Then out of nowhere finally spoke. “If someone told you to kill someone you didn’t know, would you?”
Lounging in the criminally comfortable armchair behind the battered safehouse desk, Ofelia had been on the verge of reaching out to fetch the package and offer a cheerful hello – but Audrey’s words made her freeze in mid-motion, the woman going abruptly still. After a pause, she slipped back into fluid movement and pulled the package closer.
“Depends on the someone, and the other someone, and why they’ve asked me for this thing. Gambling teaches you that it’s all about the variables.” She sounded deceptively casual.
Audrey didn’t move from her position. She was still, almost as if locked there. Her hands gripped the counter, refusing to let go as her gaze continued out the window. “Regardless of that, don’t you think a hume life is priceless? That person you are being sent out to kill has a mother, a father, a daughter, a brother. Can you really set a price on a person’s head?”
Everything has a price, the woman almost answered. That was one thing, at least, where the Thieves Guild and the Bureau agreed: find the right lever, apply enough pressure, and anyone could be bought.
But Audrey was visibly upset, every line of her body straining, and so Ofelia set the package neatly in her lap and settled for watching her protege instead.
“It really depends on the person. Some people, Audrey...” Her lips pursed. Crime and politics alike had exposed her to such unpleasant figures. “Imagine, say, that a tyrannical despot had taken over Emillion. That he was terrorising the streets and bringing the city to its knees. That the head of the snake had to be cut off. Can you set a price on his head?”
In a fit of passion, she reared her head at Ofelia, still holding onto the counter. “It wouldn’t be worth money, it would be worth the lives of thousands of people.” She paused, staring almost through her. Slowly her body relaxed and she had begun to loosen her grip on the counter until both her hands were at her sides. Everything has a price. Audrey closed her eyes tightly wishing it wasn’t a lesson she had to learn. Her parents were worth something to someone. As of now, she had no way to know if they were the tyrannical despot or if someone else had brought her parents to their knees.
“I don’t like her,” Audrey finally spoke. “I don’t want to be her mentee. I don’t want to be like her.”
Ah, Ofelia thought. And with that, the pieces started to fall into place.
“I can hardly blame you. For what it’s worth: myself, I wouldn’t kill someone I didn’t know. I would need to know them intimately and out. I would need to know without a doubt. And before it even got to that point, I would prefer other methods of... resolution.” It was a sanitised word, hardly comparable to the scope of what they were discussing. Assassination. Murder. “Something more delicate. Why slit a throat when simply exchanging a few words might accomplish the same thing, roundabout as it is?”
Audrey was quiet for a long time. Finally she turned her back to the counter, placing her hands on it and lifting herself up to sit on top of the counter. With her hands on her knees, she stared back at Ofelia quietly chewing around the words she wanted to say. “I wanted to become a ninja so I could find the ninja that killed my family. My entire life I’ve wanted nothing more than to kill him. To make him feel how I felt.” Her hands gripped the counter tightly. “But I don’t want to become Alecta.” She bit her bottom lip, almost reluctant about what she was about to say. “I want to help people. I don’t want to hurt them.”
“And that’s a wonderful goal, darling.” Ofelia filed these revelations away; one could almost see her mental file on Audrey Leradine (Alys Coulombe) growing by the second. Somewhere in the back of her head, the government agent pricked up her ears and Starling nodded in approval.
“The thieves look after one another. We’re a motley family, but we are family.”