"So…what are we going to do? They gave us a month." Devvyn asked as he dug his finger into the soil and uprooted a cluster of weeds. It'd been months since he and Maelis cleared their garden, and the weeds were starting to swallow up the plants.
Maelis handed Devvyn a trowel to help. "We are going to do nothing. You're going to stay put while I figure out what to do. I shouldn't even have told you about it." Maelis answered, referring to the quit notice the mailman delivered at dawn. "And I told you to wear gloves, didn't I? Don't come asking me for a salve when your hands get itchy."
"I would have heard about it anyway. It's not as though our home is the only one affected. It goes up to Rindown Street and beyond. There'll be nothing left of the Lower City when Lord Pyrethorn is done." Devvyn said as he reached for the extra pair of gloves that Maelis brought.
She paused, brushing dirt off her palms, then gave him a sideways glance. "How do you know that?"
"Yesterday at the Pyrethorn estate, Isadora Pyrethorn showed me a prototype of the project. I didn't know it was our area they planned to destroy at first," Devvyn scoffed, "then I saw a map."
"Oh," Maelis said. She reached for a nearby crate and sank onto it, stretching her legs. Then she sighed. "I'll figure something out. We'll get along fine. But your friends and the rest of the people affected likely have nowhere else to go. Maybe a petition. I'll write one today."
"Hmm. Not sure that's going to work, but sure," Devvyn muttered, stabbing the trowel a little harder into the soil. "The highborns don't care about petitions. All they see is land they can turn into profit. Lord Pyrethorn is no different. He'll probably frame the petition and hang it on a wall so that he can laugh at it every day."
Maelis looked at him then. Her brows drawn, mouth tight. The worry in her eyes was plain. "Devvyn…I know we don't always get along, but you can confide in me. Did something happen yesterday? At the Pyrethorn estate?"
"No. Nothing." Devvyn mumbled.
"You came home by 10 p.m. With bruises all over your body. Covered in muck and what seemed like blood." Maelis's voice trembled with frustration. "I'm trying, Devvyn. Trying to be a good parent to you, but I need you to work with me. Trust me."
"I told you, it was paint," Devvyn said, avoiding her gaze. "Some kid was painting their gate. I tripped into their bucket. Slipped, got it all over me. That's all."
Maelis arched a brow, clearly unconvinced.
"And the muck? I, uh…" He scratched the back of his neck. "Found an underground tunnel near the main market. Decided to check it out. You know, explore. That's where the rest of the mess came from."
Her frown deepened. "You thought it was a good idea to go crawling through tunnels alone?"
He shrugged. "I didn't plan it. It just… happened."
"Devvyn…"
"I know. I know. I'll be more careful. Don't worry too much about me, grandmother." He got up and stretched his back. "Is it okay if I go now? To give Aela and Jelric their sweet treats. I'll finish the weeds when I get back. Um, and let's do those stretches for your back in the evening."
"Of course," Maelis said softly, forcing a smile.
Devvyn nodded and turned toward the door, brushing the dirt off his palms. He could feel the heat of Maelis's gaze lingering on his back as he stepped back into the house. He paused at the door, feeling guilty. But what could he do? Tell her that he was in trouble with an Upper City gang? Or that he'd met a now-dead man who claimed to be a leader of the Unbound. He sighed, breathed in and out and went upstairs.
Up in his room, he changed quickly, tugging off his dirt-streaked shirt and slipping into a clean one. A long-sleeved brown cotton shirt with a slightly crooked seam, Maelis had sewn by hand. He went into his bathroom and splashed water on his face from the basin, wincing in pain as he did. He dabbed his face dry with his shirt, then checked his reflection in the mirror above it. He had tiny scratches all over his face; he wasn't even sure when he got those. His entire body was covered in them. "Stupid gang boys."
He went back to the room to get his boots. As he laced them, he thought about the quit notice, about Owwyn and Vance the Fourth, and what they would have told their Boss. Would they come looking for him in the Lower City? He thought about Isadora but quickly dismissed her from his mind, irritated. The book, Devvyn remembered.
He'd been too tired to look at it and had left it among his pile of dirty clothes. He crossed the room to the corner where his worn laundry basket sat, clothes spilling over its sides. Removing the clothes he had worn the previous day, he found the book sitting on top of an old jacket. A faint smell of sewer and blood clung to it, and the thick leather cover was still damp in places.
He brushed off a stray thread and sat on the edge of his bed, turning it over in his hands.
Just then, the door burst open.
"Devvyn! You need to come with me now." Aela's voice rang out as she stepped into the room, cheeks flushed, curls damp with sweat, eyes wide with urgency.
Devvyn jolted upright, nearly dropping the book. He shoved it behind his back in one quick motion, trying to look casual. "Ever heard of knocking?"
"Knocking? Our friend has gone absolutely mad, and you're worried about knocking!"
"What?" Devvyn pushed the book under his pillow.
"Jelric's at the school gathering with our former classmates…ugh…" She paused to catch her breath. "He's yelling about Lord Pyrethorn and the evictions. It's already turning into a protest."
"What? How did he even get into the school…"
Aela gestured wildly. "It's not like they have the best security. You coming or not?"
"Uh, yeah. I just need to pee real quick," he said, inching toward the bathroom. "Go down to the sitting room. There's a box on the table. I got stuff for you and Jelric."
"Be down in two minutes."
"Okay, okay," he muttered. "Go on. I'll be right behind you."
Devvyn shut the bathroom door behind him and leaned against it, listening. He waited until he heard Aela's footsteps fade down the stairs.
He gave it a few more seconds, just in case, then slipped back into his room. Crossing to his bed, he lifted the pillow and grabbed the book. Then he went to the far corner of the room, where one floorboard sat just a little looser than the rest. With a quick tug, he pried it up and slid the book into the dark space beneath. He pressed the board back into place and stood, brushing the dust off his hands.
Only then did he let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.
Devvyn headed down the narrow staircase. As he entered the sitting room, he spotted Aela perched on the arm of the couch, her fingers dusted with sugar as she bit into one of the cheesecake puffs, with crumbs around her mouth.
He raised a brow. "Really?"
Aela gave him a cheeky look, cheeks full. "What? It's for me, isn't it?"
"Doesn't mean you should stuff yourself like an animal," Devvyn said as he went to the box. He pulled out the cream-filled doughnut for Jelric and carefully wrapped it in a strip of paper. Aela reached for a mint gumdrop, and he slapped her hand away without looking. "Those are for Maelis."
Then he grabbed a sticky toffee, popped it into his mouth, and handed one to Aela. "Okay, let's go."
Devvyn and Aela stepped outside. Maelis was still bent over the garden, carefully pulling weeds from between the plants.
He cleared his throat. ''Grandmother, is it okay if I tell other people you're going to write a petition?''
Maelis straightened. ''Why do you ask?''
Before Devvyn could answer, Aela jumped in. ''Jelric's organising a protest against Lord Pyrethorn with our former schoolmates, and they're going to take it to Eternis."
"I think it would help keep everyone calm for now," Devvyn added.
Maelis shook her head, a tired smile flickering across her face. ''Why can't you and your friends just be quiet, normal kids for once?'' She sighed but nodded. ''Alright, it's okay to tell them I'm writing a petition. But don't expect miracles.''
He gave a slight nod. "Thanks, Grandmother."
"Be careful." She called after them as they left the house.
Devvyn immediately wished he'd brought something to cover his face. The sun was hotter now, and the heat stung his skin. He glanced around. The Lower City was slowly coming back to life after the chaos of the Unbound attack. Shops were back open, the streets were packed with people, and children, not old enough to be in school, chased each other between vendor stalls.
A small figure suddenly collided with his side.
"Sorry, Devvyn!"
He looked down to see the butcher's daughter, cheeks flushed from running. She gave a sheepish grin before darting back toward the market stalls.
"I miss when that was us," Aela said. "Being older is pure nonsense."
"Being older in the Lower City is pure nonsense."
"If you say so." Aela glanced at him sideways. "Hey, what happened to your face? Did you get into a fight with a cat or something?"
Devvyn rubbed his jaw. "Or something. Let's get that dumbhead first. Then I'll tell you guys what happened."
