Chapter 14: One of Us — The Key of Oslov

Volume 16: Tales From the Sanctioned Brothel: Part 3: The Chase

Chapter 14 One of Us

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Neither Tilrey nor Davita liked waking up together. The only person he wanted to see in the hazy, vulnerable state so close to dreaming was Gersha, and she was uncharacteristically awkward on mornings after, dodging his eyes.So, an hour or so after they finished their play, he slid quietly out of bed and dressed in the light of the headboard lamp, wincing as he pulled his trousers over the raw welts. Davita lay motionless in a luxurious heap of silk-jacketed covers, her long black hair trailing on the pillow.As Tilrey opened the door, though, she spoke clearly, without sitting up: “Tomorrow after the session, I’ll see your friend Karishkov and hear his request to join our Coalition. Don’t forget.”That man’s not my friend. He swallowed the objection. “Thank you, Fir’n Councillor.”“No need. I wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t good for the party.”And yourself. “Of course. Till later.” He closed the door behind him.The tram across the city Core was nearly empty after midnight, but Tilrey remained standing because sitting hurt. Though he’d enjoyed the belting, as always—or not enjoyed exactly but needed—he was already anticipating Gersha’s frown when he saw the marks.He’d tried many times to explain. She doesn’t draw blood. It doesn’t really hurt. It’s like . . . a massage would be for you. Relaxing.That just deepened the furrow between Gersha’s brows. I could do it for you. Do you want me to do it for you?And he so obviously didn’t want to, and he looked so pained that Tilrey had to kiss the expression off his face and try to explain that sometimes he just needed the touch of a person with Davita’s particular interests and skills, for an hour or two. And Gersha claimed to understand and not to mind, but a child could see through that.Maybe Gersha would be already sleeping when he got home, though. It would feel so good to slip into the dark bedroom and under the covers, to relax into his husband’s woozy embrace.And there was a third possibility: Gersha might not be waiting for him, awake or asleep. He’d been spending long hours in the study with Janta, teaching the boy the programming languages that were part of an accelerated school curriculum. Twice Tilrey had returned after midnight to find the two of them at the terminal, raising their heads to blink sheepishly at him.Maybe he shouldn’t go home just yet. Besides the issue of the welts, he wasn’t eager to tell his husband that Davita had declared his carefully crafted policy brief “poison.”As the tram slid silently across the Core, past the Café and the Library, Tilrey hit the bell. He got off at the Brothel.There, at least, no one would be surprised or unsettled by a late-night visitor. No one would care where he’d been. And he’d use the visit to find out if Einara had seen Karishkov again.This time, the guard in the Brothel’s cloakroom nodded and let him through without asking for ID. The foyer was much dimmer without light from the skylights. Tilrey was practically at the reception desk before he got a good look at the person on duty—a big blond man about his age, with a lazy twist to his full lips and an insolent grace to his movements.“C’n I help you?” the man asked, eyes narrow. He’d taken in Tilrey’s Laborer jerkin at a glance.Tilrey plunked his elbows on the desk. The staff might as well get used to him. “If Einara’s still up, tell her Tilrey Bronn wants a chat.”The man’s head snapped upright, and the rest of his body followed. His eyes raked over Tilrey from head to toe. “It’s you.”Tilrey was done with obsequiousness for the night. He allowed himself to smile in a way that said he didn’t care if a whore recognized him. “How nice to be known.”Instead of taking the hint, the man continued to stare shamelessly, even rising from his chair for a better look. “Sad Window Boy,” he said. “I wasn’t sure I’d recognize you if I ever met you. I thought you’d be—I don’t know, old and withered and hideous by now.” A crooked smile. “Like me.”Those damned photos again. This man’s gaze was especially keen, though, as if he were noting the differences between Tilrey then and now with a professional’s eye. And then Tilrey remembered what Einara had said about the copycat photos that had so incensed him.“You,” he said, jabbing a finger across the desk. “You took the new batch of pictures.”A nervous smile flitted across the man’s face. “Guilty. Consider it a tribute.”“To me? I’m not seeing the compliment there.”The man laughed, his golden bravado rushing back. He was hardly “hideous” now, as he’d claimed, but in his youth he must have been lethally handsome. “Not a compliment to you! To my mentor. The series she took of you is a classic, at least as far as smutty Brothel pics go. I only steal from the best.”“You’re talking about Karina?” Tilrey couldn’t remember the photographer’s last name. But he did remember how she’d calmed him by treating him like a person; how she’d coaxed real feelings out of him and insisted the photos would be “art” as well as wank material. A strange woman. “What happened to her?”The man’s smile faded. “Cancer, a few years back, may her last moment be bright. She taught me everything I know.” He extended his hand across the desk. “I’m Kai.”“You’re Einara’s husband. You make that stream my son is so wild about.”“A lot of the kids seem wild about it.” Kai’s grin was self-deprecating, but his eyes flashed cheekily. “You lived with Majority Leader Verán, didn’t you? Back in the old days?”Tilrey wondered why Einara hadn’t trained her husband not to ask questions that made people uncomfortable. Maybe she’d chosen him for his looks—or she liked the bluntness. He found he didn’t mind it himself. “You’ve been talking to Ansha.”“About Verán? Nah. See, I was the next one in the old prick’s bed after you. I was working in the Sector as a research assistant, doing a pretty shitty job because I was always buried in a vial. Visha Verán dressed me down for my mistakes, and then he offered me sap. And then I let him undress me.” The grin twisted into a grimace. “At least it was just a free-night here and there. I don’t envy you.”“I heard about you. The replacement.” Redda was such a small world. To think that this stranger had known Verán’s foibles as intimately as he had. “You were . . . Lowered, weren’t you?”Now it was Kai’s turn to look abashed. “He liked that.” He imitated Verán’s quavering voice with chilling accuracy: “Meritocracy in action. That’s you, my beautiful burnout.”Tilrey shuddered; it had been a long time, but not long enough. “You kept going back to him, though?”“He had what I needed. And back then, I needed a lot.” Kai hit a few keys on his console, then sauntered out from behind the desk. “Remember how he’d go for a whole fucking hour and expect to be complimented on his stamina? And then sit up for hours more, dipping his pinkie in a vial and fretting?”Tilrey remembered.“But yeah. I kept going back.” Kai led the way to the door of the Brothel proper. “Einara usually has tea around now. She doesn’t like unexpected visitors, but I figure you’re an exception.”Tilrey followed him. They veered away from the fancy wood-paneled corridors into the gray concrete and fluorescent glare of the staff quarters, where he’d come to pick up Janta. “And after Verán, you came here?”“Been here ever since. And you became a big fucking deal in the Sector.” Kai stopped to rap at a door. “Wonder what old Visha would say if he could see you now?”“I’m only a secretary.”“Only.” Kai shot him an all-too-knowing grin, then turned as the door opened to reveal Einara. “Look who I found.”Einara appeared to have been preparing for bed; her hair was half loose on her shoulders. She gave a start and straightened up, pulling her robe tight around herself. “Fir Bronn. Tilrey. If I’d known you were coming—”“Don’t be uptight,” Kai said. “He’s been in here before, hasn’t he? I put Ansha on desk duty so we can all have tea together.”“Lovely.” Einara ushered Tilrey into the cramped but tidy sitting room where they’d talked on his last visit. He could feel her straining to squeeze back into the dignified-yet-deferential persona of a director dealing with patrons—not so unlike his secretary persona, he supposed. “I suppose you’ve already introduced yourselves.”“Yeah, and we found plenty to talk about.” Kai flopped on the sofa and stretched out full-length, leaving Tilrey to lower himself into an uncomfortable straight chair. “Old whores in this city always do.”“Kai.” Einara turned to Tilrey. “I apologize for the disrespect. Does a black tea blend suit you? Or something herbal?”Tilrey did his best not to wince at the impact of ass on chair. “Black, please.” Wondering if Kai was needling him because he considered him a colleague or a rival of some sort, he added, “And the word ‘whore’ doesn’t bother me.”Kai snorted. “Hope not. You don’t have to treat him like a Strutter, ’Nara. He’s one of us.”Einara pointedly ignored him, busying herself in the kitchen nook. “I imagine you’re interested in a progress report on Fir Councillor Karishkov. Unfortunately, he hasn’t been back yet.”“It’s only been a ten-day.” Tilrey hid his disappointment. “But he did seem receptive to you?”“Oh, very. I’ll be surprised if we don’t see him soon.” She plugged in the kettle. “What’s the best way to send you a message? I don’t suppose Ceill . . . but we haven’t seen much of Ceill lately, either.” Looking worried, she added, “And you wouldn’t want him involved in any of this. Of course not.”“I’d prefer Ceill know nothing about our conversations.” It was so nice to be with people with whom he could safely get a little sharp. “So you haven’t seen him lately?”“Now and then. He’s still shooting footage, talking about making a ‘document’ of this place. And helping Kai with his scripts. But I thought you didn’t want me reporting to you on your son.”“I don’t.” Tilrey reminded himself guiltily that Ceill deserved privacy. “If you want to send me a message, leave it in the tunnel outside your basement, the way Hulda did for Sibylla.” Then he noticed the startled look on Kai’s face. “What’s wrong?”Kai’s eyes flitted to Einara—who shrugged at him—and back to Tilrey. “I didn’t realize you knew Ceill came here. I thought he was, well, sneaking around.”“He was at first, but now he’s an adult. He can do what he wants. Mind you,” Tilrey added with a keen glance, to remind Kai who held the power here, “I was keeping tabs on his visits well before he came clean with me. I didn’t see any harm in it, as long as he kept up with his schoolwork.”Actually, he hadn’t known a thing until after that crucial day when Ceill took the E-Squareds, but they didn’t need to know that.Kai gave a low whistle. “It’s true what they say about you. Nothing happens in the Core without you knowing about it.”Tilrey propped an elbow on the back of the uncomfortable chair, doing his best to look like he gave no fucks about anything. “Who says that?”“A guy here who used to know you.”“Oh, Ansha.” Of course it would be Ansha. “Funny he would say that, since I came to him last winter asking for intel on you.” He turned to address Einara, who was setting the tea tray on the table. “But your steward refused to say a word. You must’ve really earned his loyalty.”“Or Ansha wouldn’t tell you anything because he hates your guts.” Kai grinned wide, but the expression faded at a glance from Einara. “What? Doesn’t he?”“I don’t keep track of Ansha’s opinions.” Einara lifted Kai’s feet from the sofa, plunked them on the floor, and sat herself in their place with dignity. Leaning forward, she poured the tea.“Oh. Wait.” She set down the tumbler she’d been offering to Tilrey, produced a full vial of sap, and pulled the stopper. “A nip?”Tilrey glanced at Kai, remembering what he’d said about his past. Kai said, “Go ahead. I stick to rotgut now, but I don’t mind seeing other folks drown themselves.”I don’t drown myself. Ever. But a little less feeling would be welcome right now. Tilrey cocked two fingers at the tumbler. “Thanks.”Einara poured a quarter-V into his tea and about half that into her own. “How’s the boy doing? Janta? Did you find a good situation for him?”“I did.”“With Fir Linbeck? Wasn’t that what you were planning?”“We chose a different route,” Tilrey said briskly. He didn’t like being reminded of the talking-to Gersha had given him over the boy.And of course Gersha had been right. The more he observed Janta and Gersha together, the worse he felt about what he’d considered doing. Whatever quantity of experience and dangerous knowledge Janta possessed, he also had a strange innocence. The way his whole face lit up when they gave him a raw imported peach to eat; his childlike fascination with the trams he watched out the window, memorizing their routes; the eager way he chattered with Gersha using terminology that Tilrey didn’t remotely understand—no. Tilrey couldn’t have handed him over to Besha.But a small, hidden part of him was still resentful. If I could bear it, why not Janta? it whispered, as malicious as Ansha. No one protected me. I came out stronger.“Janta has a strange and brilliant mind,” he continued, pushing those feelings down where they belonged. “We’ve decided not to waste him as a kettle boy.”Kai snorted again. “‘Waste’? Being a kettle boy worked out well for you.”“Kai,” Einara said.“No, really. Isn’t that why Ansha hates your guts? Because you soared to the heights and he ended up here?”“I can’t say I’ve spent much time analyzing Ansha’s feelings.” Tilrey’s throat was dry; he took a swallow.As the sap-sweetness slipped down his throat and bloomed in his brain, he had a flash of memory: Ansha on top of him, pinning his hands above his head. Beside them, Verán’s amused voice saying, “Harder. Faster.”Tilrey had been so sapped on those nights. He didn’t remember how many times Verán made them perform together—two, three, four? He did remember how grateful he’d been that Ansha wasn’t nasty about it. In Verán’s bed, the redhead seemed to put his spite and envy aside; they were just colleagues, playing their assigned parts with grim concentration.It was all so long ago now. He couldn’t muster any dislike for poor Ansha, who hadn’t been quite as smart or lucky as he had. “Honestly,” he said, “I almost forgot he existed until I saw his name on your staff roster.”“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have forgotten him!” Kai took a big swallow from his tumbler. His already-florid face reddened. “What he did to your kid, what he tried to do, that was just—”He broke off as Einara’s fingers dug into his arm. Tilrey couldn’t see her expression, but it clearly had a chilling effect.“What?” Kai asked her almost pleadingly. “He knows, right? He has to know.”Tilrey set down his tumbler. His head cleared all at once, the numbness like water down a drain. “What did Ansha try to do to Ceill?”“Nothing untoward has ever happened to your son here.” Einara’s voice was all frost again.Kai looked mutinous. If Tilrey prompted him, he’d probably blurt it all out. But no, Einara needed to tell Tilrey herself. She needed to acknowledge who was in charge.He asked her again, “What did Ansha do to Ceill?”“Gave him liquor. Too much of it.” She met his eyes steadily. “Ceill had wandered into the patrons’ lounge. I was occupied elsewhere. Normally I would have kept tabs on him.”“She would have,” Kai said. “Anyway, what matters is that we got there before it got bad. Well, worse than a hangover, anyway.”“What do you mean? Got bad how?” Tilrey’s mind was flying. Suddenly he recalled the spiteful words that Ansha had thrown at him in the bar: You think you’re a regular Strutter now, huh?Terror and rage shorted out his judgment. Long ago in the Vacants, when he was too depressed to take care of himself, Ansha had plied him with sap and then climbed on top of him. Things would have gone further if Bror hadn’t been there.Would Ansha stoop to that level now, just to get back at Tilrey for having the life he wanted? “If he laid hands on my son, if he hurt him—”He didn’t realize he was on his feet with his fists clenched, ready to grab one of them and shake the answer loose, until Einara cried, “No! Nothing like that.”Kai looked just as alarmed. “It’s not what Ansha did. It’s when.” A sidelong glance at Einara. “He got Ceill stinking drunk the night before the E-Squareds.”Tilrey’s muscles unknotted again, leaving his body weak with relief while tension jittered in his head. Not that, at least. No one had hurt Ceill that way; no one ever would.But Kai’s words raised new and unpleasant questions. “What the fuck was Ceill doing here the night before the test?”Again the two of them exchanged glances. Einara said, “I can’t say, since he didn’t come on my invitation that night. Maybe he was worn out from all the studying.”“‘Worn out’ is one way of putting it.” Kai met Tilrey’s eyes squarely. “I’m not gonna betray your son’s confidence. But I can tell you we had a little convo while I was sobering him up. He was having serious doubts about the test and Notification and the rest of it. You have any idea of the kind of pressure you put him under?”“Kai,” Einara said wearily.Tilrey said, “What are you saying? This was my fault?”He shouldn’t be angry. He’d known all about Ceill’s infatuation with the Free Northmen; he and Gersha themselves had nurtured their son’s ambivalence toward the system. But learning just how close Ceill had come to disaster made him shaky with rage. He needed to punish someone, even if the person was himself.No. That wouldn’t help. He and Ceill needed to talk. But if Ceill and Ansha had been chatting that night, if Ansha had said things about him—Fuck. Davita hadn’t hit him hard enough.“Your fault?” Kai said. “How would I know? All I know is, the kid’s head was all messed up, so I did my best to set him straight. I told him I know what it’s like to be Lowered. I told him throwing away his future wouldn’t solve any of his problems.”Tilrey forced himself to soften his jaw and release his breath. He should have been the one to have a talk with Ceill, but where had he even been that night? With Vreya Akeina? With Davita?“I suppose,” he said, the words coming out clipped, “I should thank you.”“I did it for the kid. Not for you.”“He means he did it out of respect for you and the Councillor,” Einara corrected her husband.But Kai shook his head. “You got a good kid there. For a Strutter.” He raised his eyes to Tilrey with a pained grin. “I didn’t want to see him end up like I did.”It clearly cost the man something to admit that. Tilrey bowed his head in recognition. He still didn’t trust Einara, but maybe he could worry less about Ceill spending time here knowing that Kai and Stefan were on his son’s side.“Thanks,” he said, then turned his full attention to Einara. “But Ansha? You’ll dismiss him from his post tomorrow morning.”She blinked at him. “I don’t have full authority over staffing at that level. I’d have to—”Tilrey cut her off, giving her the flinty gaze that he used on the staff of recalcitrant Coalition members. “Make it happen. And make sure he doesn’t get a new posting he’ll enjoy. If you don’t do it, I can and I will.” Kai ran to fetch Tilrey’s outer things from the vestibule and then escorted him to the Brothel’s back door. “It’s easier for you to come and go this way from now on. More discreet. Use the buzzer on the loading dock.”Tilrey wondered if Ceill came and went this way, too, but he didn’t ask. “Discreet is good. Thank you.”“No prob.” Kai paused at the heavy steel door that led outdoors. “Plus, I, er . . .”“You put Ansha on desk duty,” Tilrey said flatly, remembered the exchange between husband and wife. “You’re afraid I’ll go for his throat if I leave that way.”Kai looked as if he were contemplating blocking the route back into the Brothel. “Would you?”“I hope not.” Tilrey was still angry, but the last thing he needed right now was to make a spectacle of himself. “That was good thinking, keeping us apart.”“Yeah, well, I manage people on my sets. I have to anticipate these things—who’s gonna brawl with who, who’s fucking who in the storeroom.” The orange guardlight made Kai’s face look gaunter and older, deepening every crease. “Speaking of all that,” he added casually, “you like getting whipped?”Tilrey went rigid. “Excuse me?”Kai mimed sitting down in a chair with a distinct wince. “Most people wouldn’t notice. I got professional expertise.”He was so matter-of-fact that Tilrey found, to his surprise, that he didn’t really care. Of course a whore would notice that. “We all have our release valves,” he said.“I know, believe me. When you work in the Sector, the stress is crushing, am I right?” Kai’s grin was knowing, but not hostile. He was working up to something. “I was with a lot of Councillors, back when I was young and pretty. Most of them liked the dominant role, at least with me, so I was an expert at taking pain.” He shrugged as if to say What can you do? “It sinks into you. I didn’t think I liked it at the time, but when I stopped doing it, sometimes I missed it.”Tilrey cocked a brow. He didn’t mind the cheek, but if Kai thought they were going to have a sharing session, he was mistaken. “A kink is a genetic predisposition inflected by experience,” he said, repeating something Gersha had once told him. “It’s multifactorial. Explaining or judging it is a fool’s errand.”Kai barked with laughter. “You are such a fucking Strutter. No, but seriously. Einara would kill me if she knew I was talking to you about this, but . . . she helps me. When I need to be hurt. She could help you, too.”So that was what Kai had been working up to. Was it one of Einara’s power plays? But the man sounded so sincere, almost meek, that Tilrey couldn’t muster any harshness in his response.“That’s a kind offer,” he said. “But my needs are being met elsewhere. And if you’re trying to trick me into letting my guard down with your wife, you’re wasting your time.”Kai pressed his hand to the door sensor. “I wasn’t trying to trick you. Neither of us is.”“No?” Tilrey wondered how much Einara’s husband knew about her origins or her goals. Not much, he suspected.“No.” The heavy door popped open a few inches, and Kai heaved it the rest of the way. “You’re a very suspicious man. I guess you have to be. But I wasn’t probing for a vulnerability. We serve people’s needs here—it’s kinda our purpose—and I was just thinking you looked . . . tense.”Cold rushed through the open doorway, penetrating instantly to Tilrey’s skin. He was grateful for the chill. It yanked his body upright when what he really wanted was to slump, to lean on the nearest person he could find—yes, even Kai—and rest.“Being tense comes with the territory,” he said, stepping outside. “But it’s kind of you to notice. I hope you’re getting what you need, too.”

So, an hour or so after they finished their play, he slid quietly out of bed and dressed in the light of the headboard lamp, wincing as he pulled his trousers over the raw welts. Davita lay motionless in a luxurious heap of silk-jacketed covers, her long black hair trailing on the pillow.

As Tilrey opened the door, though, she spoke clearly, without sitting up: “Tomorrow after the session, I’ll see your friend Karishkov and hear his request to join our Coalition. Don’t forget.”

That man’s not my friend. He swallowed the objection. “Thank you, Fir’n Councillor.”

“No need. I wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t good for the party.”

And yourself. “Of course. Till later.” He closed the door behind him.

The tram across the city Core was nearly empty after midnight, but Tilrey remained standing because sitting hurt. Though he’d enjoyed the belting, as always—or not enjoyed exactly but needed—he was already anticipating Gersha’s frown when he saw the marks.

He’d tried many times to explain. She doesn’t draw blood. It doesn’t really hurt. It’s like . . . a massage would be for you. Relaxing.

That just deepened the furrow between Gersha’s brows. I could do it for you. Do you want me to do it for you?

And he so obviously didn’t want to, and he looked so pained that Tilrey had to kiss the expression off his face and try to explain that sometimes he just needed the touch of a person with Davita’s particular interests and skills, for an hour or two. And Gersha claimed to understand and not to mind, but a child could see through that.

Maybe Gersha would be already sleeping when he got home, though. It would feel so good to slip into the dark bedroom and under the covers, to relax into his husband’s woozy embrace.

And there was a third possibility: Gersha might not be waiting for him, awake or asleep. He’d been spending long hours in the study with Janta, teaching the boy the programming languages that were part of an accelerated school curriculum. Twice Tilrey had returned after midnight to find the two of them at the terminal, raising their heads to blink sheepishly at him.

Maybe he shouldn’t go home just yet. Besides the issue of the welts, he wasn’t eager to tell his husband that Davita had declared his carefully crafted policy brief “poison.”

As the tram slid silently across the Core, past the Café and the Library, Tilrey hit the bell. He got off at the Brothel.

There, at least, no one would be surprised or unsettled by a late-night visitor. No one would care where he’d been. And he’d use the visit to find out if Einara had seen Karishkov again.

This time, the guard in the Brothel’s cloakroom nodded and let him through without asking for ID. The foyer was much dimmer without light from the skylights. Tilrey was practically at the reception desk before he got a good look at the person on duty—a big blond man about his age, with a lazy twist to his full lips and an insolent grace to his movements.

“C’n I help you?” the man asked, eyes narrow. He’d taken in Tilrey’s Laborer jerkin at a glance.

Tilrey plunked his elbows on the desk. The staff might as well get used to him. “If Einara’s still up, tell her Tilrey Bronn wants a chat.”

The man’s head snapped upright, and the rest of his body followed. His eyes raked over Tilrey from head to toe. “It’s you.”

Tilrey was done with obsequiousness for the night. He allowed himself to smile in a way that said he didn’t care if a whore recognized him. “How nice to be known.”

Instead of taking the hint, the man continued to stare shamelessly, even rising from his chair for a better look. “Sad Window Boy,” he said. “I wasn’t sure I’d recognize you if I ever met you. I thought you’d be—I don’t know, old and withered and hideous by now.” A crooked smile. “Like me.”

Those damned photos again. This man’s gaze was especially keen, though, as if he were noting the differences between Tilrey then and now with a professional’s eye. And then Tilrey remembered what Einara had said about the copycat photos that had so incensed him.

“You,” he said, jabbing a finger across the desk. “You took the new batch of pictures.”

A nervous smile flitted across the man’s face. “Guilty. Consider it a tribute.”

“To me? I’m not seeing the compliment there.”

The man laughed, his golden bravado rushing back. He was hardly “hideous” now, as he’d claimed, but in his youth he must have been lethally handsome. “Not a compliment to you! To my mentor. The series she took of you is a classic, at least as far as smutty Brothel pics go. I only steal from the best.”

“You’re talking about Karina?” Tilrey couldn’t remember the photographer’s last name. But he did remember how she’d calmed him by treating him like a person; how she’d coaxed real feelings out of him and insisted the photos would be “art” as well as wank material. A strange woman. “What happened to her?”

The man’s smile faded. “Cancer, a few years back, may her last moment be bright. She taught me everything I know.” He extended his hand across the desk. “I’m Kai.”

“You’re Einara’s husband. You make that stream my son is so wild about.”

“A lot of the kids seem wild about it.” Kai’s grin was self-deprecating, but his eyes flashed cheekily. “You lived with Majority Leader Verán, didn’t you? Back in the old days?”

Tilrey wondered why Einara hadn’t trained her husband not to ask questions that made people uncomfortable. Maybe she’d chosen him for his looks—or she liked the bluntness. He found he didn’t mind it himself. “You’ve been talking to Ansha.”

“About Verán? Nah. See, I was the next one in the old prick’s bed after you. I was working in the Sector as a research assistant, doing a pretty shitty job because I was always buried in a vial. Visha Verán dressed me down for my mistakes, and then he offered me sap. And then I let him undress me.” The grin twisted into a grimace. “At least it was just a free-night here and there. I don’t envy you.”

“I heard about you. The replacement.” Redda was such a small world. To think that this stranger had known Verán’s foibles as intimately as he had. “You were . . . Lowered, weren’t you?”

Now it was Kai’s turn to look abashed. “He liked that.” He imitated Verán’s quavering voice with chilling accuracy: “Meritocracy in action. That’s you, my beautiful burnout.”

Tilrey shuddered; it had been a long time, but not long enough. “You kept going back to him, though?”

“He had what I needed. And back then, I needed a lot.” Kai hit a few keys on his console, then sauntered out from behind the desk. “Remember how he’d go for a whole fucking hour and expect to be complimented on his stamina? And then sit up for hours more, dipping his pinkie in a vial and fretting?”

Tilrey remembered.

“But yeah. I kept going back.” Kai led the way to the door of the Brothel proper. “Einara usually has tea around now. She doesn’t like unexpected visitors, but I figure you’re an exception.”

Tilrey followed him. They veered away from the fancy wood-paneled corridors into the gray concrete and fluorescent glare of the staff quarters, where he’d come to pick up Janta. “And after Verán, you came here?”

“Been here ever since. And you became a big fucking deal in the Sector.” Kai stopped to rap at a door. “Wonder what old Visha would say if he could see you now?”

“I’m only a secretary.”

“Only.” Kai shot him an all-too-knowing grin, then turned as the door opened to reveal Einara. “Look who I found.”

Einara appeared to have been preparing for bed; her hair was half loose on her shoulders. She gave a start and straightened up, pulling her robe tight around herself. “Fir Bronn. Tilrey. If I’d known you were coming—”

“Don’t be uptight,” Kai said. “He’s been in here before, hasn’t he? I put Ansha on desk duty so we can all have tea together.”

“Lovely.” Einara ushered Tilrey into the cramped but tidy sitting room where they’d talked on his last visit. He could feel her straining to squeeze back into the dignified-yet-deferential persona of a director dealing with patrons—not so unlike his secretary persona, he supposed. “I suppose you’ve already introduced yourselves.”

“Yeah, and we found plenty to talk about.” Kai flopped on the sofa and stretched out full-length, leaving Tilrey to lower himself into an uncomfortable straight chair. “Old whores in this city always do.”

“Kai.” Einara turned to Tilrey. “I apologize for the disrespect. Does a black tea blend suit you? Or something herbal?”

Tilrey did his best not to wince at the impact of ass on chair. “Black, please.” Wondering if Kai was needling him because he considered him a colleague or a rival of some sort, he added, “And the word ‘whore’ doesn’t bother me.”

Kai snorted. “Hope not. You don’t have to treat him like a Strutter, ’Nara. He’s one of us.”

Einara pointedly ignored him, busying herself in the kitchen nook. “I imagine you’re interested in a progress report on Fir Councillor Karishkov. Unfortunately, he hasn’t been back yet.”

“It’s only been a ten-day.” Tilrey hid his disappointment. “But he did seem receptive to you?”

“Oh, very. I’ll be surprised if we don’t see him soon.” She plugged in the kettle. “What’s the best way to send you a message? I don’t suppose Ceill . . . but we haven’t seen much of Ceill lately, either.” Looking worried, she added, “And you wouldn’t want him involved in any of this. Of course not.”

“I’d prefer Ceill know nothing about our conversations.” It was so nice to be with people with whom he could safely get a little sharp. “So you haven’t seen him lately?”

“Now and then. He’s still shooting footage, talking about making a ‘document’ of this place. And helping Kai with his scripts. But I thought you didn’t want me reporting to you on your son.”

“I don’t.” Tilrey reminded himself guiltily that Ceill deserved privacy. “If you want to send me a message, leave it in the tunnel outside your basement, the way Hulda did for Sibylla.” Then he noticed the startled look on Kai’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Kai’s eyes flitted to Einara—who shrugged at him—and back to Tilrey. “I didn’t realize you knew Ceill came here. I thought he was, well, sneaking around.”

“He was at first, but now he’s an adult. He can do what he wants. Mind you,” Tilrey added with a keen glance, to remind Kai who held the power here, “I was keeping tabs on his visits well before he came clean with me. I didn’t see any harm in it, as long as he kept up with his schoolwork.”

Actually, he hadn’t known a thing until after that crucial day when Ceill took the E-Squareds, but they didn’t need to know that.

Kai gave a low whistle. “It’s true what they say about you. Nothing happens in the Core without you knowing about it.”

Tilrey propped an elbow on the back of the uncomfortable chair, doing his best to look like he gave no fucks about anything. “Who says that?”

“A guy here who used to know you.”

“Oh, Ansha.” Of course it would be Ansha. “Funny he would say that, since I came to him last winter asking for intel on you.” He turned to address Einara, who was setting the tea tray on the table. “But your steward refused to say a word. You must’ve really earned his loyalty.”

“Or Ansha wouldn’t tell you anything because he hates your guts.” Kai grinned wide, but the expression faded at a glance from Einara. “What? Doesn’t he?”

“I don’t keep track of Ansha’s opinions.” Einara lifted Kai’s feet from the sofa, plunked them on the floor, and sat herself in their place with dignity. Leaning forward, she poured the tea.

“Oh. Wait.” She set down the tumbler she’d been offering to Tilrey, produced a full vial of sap, and pulled the stopper. “A nip?”

Tilrey glanced at Kai, remembering what he’d said about his past. Kai said, “Go ahead. I stick to rotgut now, but I don’t mind seeing other folks drown themselves.”

I don’t drown myself. Ever. But a little less feeling would be welcome right now. Tilrey cocked two fingers at the tumbler. “Thanks.”

Einara poured a quarter-V into his tea and about half that into her own. “How’s the boy doing? Janta? Did you find a good situation for him?”

“I did.”

“With Fir Linbeck? Wasn’t that what you were planning?”

“We chose a different route,” Tilrey said briskly. He didn’t like being reminded of the talking-to Gersha had given him over the boy.

And of course Gersha had been right. The more he observed Janta and Gersha together, the worse he felt about what he’d considered doing. Whatever quantity of experience and dangerous knowledge Janta possessed, he also had a strange innocence. The way his whole face lit up when they gave him a raw imported peach to eat; his childlike fascination with the trams he watched out the window, memorizing their routes; the eager way he chattered with Gersha using terminology that Tilrey didn’t remotely understand—no. Tilrey couldn’t have handed him over to Besha.

But a small, hidden part of him was still resentful. If I could bear it, why not Janta? it whispered, as malicious as Ansha. No one protected me. I came out stronger.

“Janta has a strange and brilliant mind,” he continued, pushing those feelings down where they belonged. “We’ve decided not to waste him as a kettle boy.”

Kai snorted again. “‘Waste’? Being a kettle boy worked out well for you.”

“Kai,” Einara said.

“No, really. Isn’t that why Ansha hates your guts? Because you soared to the heights and he ended up here?”

“I can’t say I’ve spent much time analyzing Ansha’s feelings.” Tilrey’s throat was dry; he took a swallow.

As the sap-sweetness slipped down his throat and bloomed in his brain, he had a flash of memory: Ansha on top of him, pinning his hands above his head. Beside them, Verán’s amused voice saying, “Harder. Faster.”

Tilrey had been so sapped on those nights. He didn’t remember how many times Verán made them perform together—two, three, four? He did remember how grateful he’d been that Ansha wasn’t nasty about it. In Verán’s bed, the redhead seemed to put his spite and envy aside; they were just colleagues, playing their assigned parts with grim concentration.

It was all so long ago now. He couldn’t muster any dislike for poor Ansha, who hadn’t been quite as smart or lucky as he had. “Honestly,” he said, “I almost forgot he existed until I saw his name on your staff roster.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have forgotten him!” Kai took a big swallow from his tumbler. His already-florid face reddened. “What he did to your kid, what he tried to do, that was just—”

He broke off as Einara’s fingers dug into his arm. Tilrey couldn’t see her expression, but it clearly had a chilling effect.

“What?” Kai asked her almost pleadingly. “He knows, right? He has to know.”

Tilrey set down his tumbler. His head cleared all at once, the numbness like water down a drain. “What did Ansha try to do to Ceill?”

“Nothing untoward has ever happened to your son here.” Einara’s voice was all frost again.

Kai looked mutinous. If Tilrey prompted him, he’d probably blurt it all out. But no, Einara needed to tell Tilrey herself. She needed to acknowledge who was in charge.

He asked her again, “What did Ansha do to Ceill?”

“Gave him liquor. Too much of it.” She met his eyes steadily. “Ceill had wandered into the patrons’ lounge. I was occupied elsewhere. Normally I would have kept tabs on him.”

“She would have,” Kai said. “Anyway, what matters is that we got there before it got bad. Well, worse than a hangover, anyway.”

“What do you mean? Got bad how?” Tilrey’s mind was flying. Suddenly he recalled the spiteful words that Ansha had thrown at him in the bar: You think you’re a regular Strutter now, huh?

Terror and rage shorted out his judgment. Long ago in the Vacants, when he was too depressed to take care of himself, Ansha had plied him with sap and then climbed on top of him. Things would have gone further if Bror hadn’t been there.

Would Ansha stoop to that level now, just to get back at Tilrey for having the life he wanted? “If he laid hands on my son, if he hurt him—”

He didn’t realize he was on his feet with his fists clenched, ready to grab one of them and shake the answer loose, until Einara cried, “No! Nothing like that.”

Kai looked just as alarmed. “It’s not what Ansha did. It’s when.” A sidelong glance at Einara. “He got Ceill stinking drunk the night before the E-Squareds.”

Tilrey’s muscles unknotted again, leaving his body weak with relief while tension jittered in his head. Not that, at least. No one had hurt Ceill that way; no one ever would.

But Kai’s words raised new and unpleasant questions. “What the fuck was Ceill doing here the night before the test?”

Again the two of them exchanged glances. Einara said, “I can’t say, since he didn’t come on my invitation that night. Maybe he was worn out from all the studying.”

“‘Worn out’ is one way of putting it.” Kai met Tilrey’s eyes squarely. “I’m not gonna betray your son’s confidence. But I can tell you we had a little convo while I was sobering him up. He was having serious doubts about the test and Notification and the rest of it. You have any idea of the kind of pressure you put him under?”

“Kai,” Einara said wearily.

Tilrey said, “What are you saying? This was my fault?”

He shouldn’t be angry. He’d known all about Ceill’s infatuation with the Free Northmen; he and Gersha themselves had nurtured their son’s ambivalence toward the system. But learning just how close Ceill had come to disaster made him shaky with rage. He needed to punish someone, even if the person was himself.

No. That wouldn’t help. He and Ceill needed to talk. But if Ceill and Ansha had been chatting that night, if Ansha had said things about him—

Fuck. Davita hadn’t hit him hard enough.

“Your fault?” Kai said. “How would I know? All I know is, the kid’s head was all messed up, so I did my best to set him straight. I told him I know what it’s like to be Lowered. I told him throwing away his future wouldn’t solve any of his problems.”

Tilrey forced himself to soften his jaw and release his breath. He should have been the one to have a talk with Ceill, but where had he even been that night? With Vreya Akeina? With Davita?

“I suppose,” he said, the words coming out clipped, “I should thank you.”

“I did it for the kid. Not for you.”

“He means he did it out of respect for you and the Councillor,” Einara corrected her husband.

But Kai shook his head. “You got a good kid there. For a Strutter.” He raised his eyes to Tilrey with a pained grin. “I didn’t want to see him end up like I did.”

It clearly cost the man something to admit that. Tilrey bowed his head in recognition. He still didn’t trust Einara, but maybe he could worry less about Ceill spending time here knowing that Kai and Stefan were on his son’s side.

“Thanks,” he said, then turned his full attention to Einara. “But Ansha? You’ll dismiss him from his post tomorrow morning.”

She blinked at him. “I don’t have full authority over staffing at that level. I’d have to—”

Tilrey cut her off, giving her the flinty gaze that he used on the staff of recalcitrant Coalition members. “Make it happen. And make sure he doesn’t get a new posting he’ll enjoy. If you don’t do it, I can and I will.”

Kai ran to fetch Tilrey’s outer things from the vestibule and then escorted him to the Brothel’s back door. “It’s easier for you to come and go this way from now on. More discreet. Use the buzzer on the loading dock.”

Tilrey wondered if Ceill came and went this way, too, but he didn’t ask. “Discreet is good. Thank you.”

“No prob.” Kai paused at the heavy steel door that led outdoors. “Plus, I, er . . .”

“You put Ansha on desk duty,” Tilrey said flatly, remembered the exchange between husband and wife. “You’re afraid I’ll go for his throat if I leave that way.”

Kai looked as if he were contemplating blocking the route back into the Brothel. “Would you?”

“I hope not.” Tilrey was still angry, but the last thing he needed right now was to make a spectacle of himself. “That was good thinking, keeping us apart.”

“Yeah, well, I manage people on my sets. I have to anticipate these things—who’s gonna brawl with who, who’s fucking who in the storeroom.” The orange guardlight made Kai’s face look gaunter and older, deepening every crease. “Speaking of all that,” he added casually, “you like getting whipped?”

Tilrey went rigid. “Excuse me?”

Kai mimed sitting down in a chair with a distinct wince. “Most people wouldn’t notice. I got professional expertise.”

He was so matter-of-fact that Tilrey found, to his surprise, that he didn’t really care. Of course a whore would notice that. “We all have our release valves,” he said.

“I know, believe me. When you work in the Sector, the stress is crushing, am I right?” Kai’s grin was knowing, but not hostile. He was working up to something. “I was with a lot of Councillors, back when I was young and pretty. Most of them liked the dominant role, at least with me, so I was an expert at taking pain.” He shrugged as if to say What can you do? “It sinks into you. I didn’t think I liked it at the time, but when I stopped doing it, sometimes I missed it.”

Tilrey cocked a brow. He didn’t mind the cheek, but if Kai thought they were going to have a sharing session, he was mistaken. “A kink is a genetic predisposition inflected by experience,” he said, repeating something Gersha had once told him. “It’s multifactorial. Explaining or judging it is a fool’s errand.”

Kai barked with laughter. “You are such a fucking Strutter. No, but seriously. Einara would kill me if she knew I was talking to you about this, but . . . she helps me. When I need to be hurt. She could help you, too.”

So that was what Kai had been working up to. Was it one of Einara’s power plays? But the man sounded so sincere, almost meek, that Tilrey couldn’t muster any harshness in his response.

“That’s a kind offer,” he said. “But my needs are being met elsewhere. And if you’re trying to trick me into letting my guard down with your wife, you’re wasting your time.”

Kai pressed his hand to the door sensor. “I wasn’t trying to trick you. Neither of us is.”

“No?” Tilrey wondered how much Einara’s husband knew about her origins or her goals. Not much, he suspected.

“No.” The heavy door popped open a few inches, and Kai heaved it the rest of the way. “You’re a very suspicious man. I guess you have to be. But I wasn’t probing for a vulnerability. We serve people’s needs here—it’s kinda our purpose—and I was just thinking you looked . . . tense.”

Cold rushed through the open doorway, penetrating instantly to Tilrey’s skin. He was grateful for the chill. It yanked his body upright when what he really wanted was to slump, to lean on the nearest person he could find—yes, even Kai—and rest.

“Being tense comes with the territory,” he said, stepping outside. “But it’s kind of you to notice. I hope you’re getting what you need, too.”

Chapter End Notes

I’m going to take a break of a week or two to stockpile some more chapters, but I will be back! And then we’ll see how Bors and Valgund and Ceill and Janta are getting along. Thanks so much for reading! <3

Chapter End Notes