Wandering Star by Michael Wallace

Author:Michael Wallace [Wallace, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-22T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Iliana waited in the doorway as her eyes adjusted to the gloom inside. A small cookfire filled the room with smoke, and the smell of roasting potatoes mingled with the slightly sweet scent of smoldering coal.

Two women with long, greasy hair, dressed in sack-like shifts, squatted next to the fire, cutting potatoes into quarters and putting them on top of a flat roasting pan. Another woman stirred something in a pot. A large dead bat hung from a hook on the ceiling, its wings dangling and limp, waiting to be butchered and cooked.

A man slouched in one corner, hat pulled low over his head, a jug between his knees. Two boys shared a cot on the opposite side of the room. They gave dry, barking coughs. Rags and blankets lay in piles on the edges of the room, and some of them stirred.

Iliana lifted a kerchief to her mouth, afraid of catching whatever had these people too sick to go outside on the evening of the Festival of Fools. If those boys had the black cough, they’d die from it, and she might too if she entered the room and caught it. How could she even be sure this was the right place, anyway?

A groan came from one of the piles of blankets. A head, hair matted with sweat, poked out. “I’m thirsty.”

It was a boy, and the voice sounded familiar.

“Hush,” one of the women cutting potatoes said. “I’ll bring ye water in a minute.”

Iliana stared pointedly. “Is that boy named Santi?”

“What’s it to you?” the woman asked.

“Are you his mother?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I ain’t. Who the devil are you?”

“I’ve come to find Santi and his mother. I’m Lord Carbón’s agent. Can I speak to you in private?”

The two women had barely glanced up when Iliana opened the door and stood in the threshold. Now they stared.

“You come to cut off his other hand, too?” the woman asked. Her voice was bitter. “Throw him into the breaker like you did Santi’s brother?”

“You are his mother, aren’t you? No, I’m not here to cause him harm. It must have been a blow to lose his wage. And we know about the brother. I brought something from Lord Carbón that might help.”

The man slouching in the corner with the jug suddenly opened his eyes. He made as if to climb to his feet. Iliana wasn’t going to take any chances. She drew back her cape to show her pistol.

“Stay where you are,” she said. “I don’t need anything from you.”

“I’m the boy’s father. You got a payoff, you give it to me.”

“No you ain’t,” the woman said.

“Lying wench, you mind your business.” He struggled to his knees.

Iliana put a hand on the pistol. “The boy’s father is dead. I don’t know who you are, but if you rise to your feet, I will put a ball in your forehead, so help me.”

The man stared at her blearily without rising. Drunk fool, did he think she didn’t mean it? If he got up, she wasn’t going to let him come anywhere close to her.

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