Of Caverns and Casters ✓ [TLRQ #1]

Chapter 29 - Leavi

My fingers are raw, flimsy coverings for aching bones. My arms drag themselves back with the brush, then forward, heavy and mechanical. My entire world is one white, four-foot tile, my sole enemy the smudges of dirt sullying its surface. They hold out against my bristles like rioters resisting arrest, but I can't stop until I conquer them. My body rocks with the forward and backward strokes, and my knees throb against the hard floor.

I could have left hours ago, but I won't. I can't, because as much as I hate to admit it, Sean's right. Rationally, I've known he was right, but the emotional, fantastical part of my mind—the part my mother used to so condemn—dared to hope he might be wrong, that something might change. But nothing changes unless someone changes it, and I can't afford to rely on the Traders. Even assuming I could find them, they've already burned us once.

So we have to make it to Morineaux.

The way Jacin talked, they must have running water there. If they have that, they'll have other technology as well. Something more like the Valleys, maybe. Like a real civilization. Maybe I'll be able to put together some kind of home there. It won't be Erreliah, but nothing ever will be, and if I want to get there, to Morineaux, I'm going to need money. Their kind of money. I scrub harder.

Later, a pair of hands claps twice. I glance over my shoulder. The maids' manager, a rounded woman with neatly braided hair, stands in the doorway. "Alrighty, girls. Good job today. A little touching up tomorrow, and I'm sure this place'll be right good for even Lady Veradeaux's tastes. Now, let's pick up and go home."

Around me, the other maids grab their buckets and brushes, murmurs of complaint filling the room as they rise. My knees crack as I get up, and like the other girls, my tired muscles are slow to relax enough for me to stand straight.

We head to a changing room to retrieve our things, and the girls start to revive some. Tired laughs titter around me, questions about what they're each doing tonight, if they want to come over, and by the way, did they know that so-and-so was dating someone else now? My ears filter the details out, but the simple triviality of it brings a smile to my lips. I wonder how the girls in Erreliah are doing.

My chest tightens, and I clench my jaw, angry for even thinking it. They're fine. Probably doing their makeup right now, getting ready for a date or a party at the Docks. Entertaining any other idea is unacceptable. The plague can't have spread that far.

The blue skin of the Dead District corpse flashes to mind.

I slam the door to the cupboard they let me keep my clothes in. That was Karsix. Not Erreliah. They're fine.

I struggle to pull the too-small uniform off over my head. A seam pops, but the dress comes off, and I drop it to the ground. My clothes, damp this morning, are dry now, and the leather of my pants is comfortingly smooth against my skin.

After shrugging on my shirt and lacing up my boots, I grab my uniform and leave the room, the other maids still chatting behind me. In the halls, people trickle toward the exit, other employees heading home for the night. Together, we walk to the manor's gate, the chill fall air whispering at us to hurry home.