“A blow to the head, eh?” Helena’s expressions were quicksilver, flickering from doubt to scrutiny to an encouraging smile. “That’s tragic. But of course, we’ll help. We can manage to feed another mouth for a night, can’t we, Feiyan?”
“We’re not idiots,” said her companion, crossing her arms deliberately over her chest. “Lost your memories? What do you remember?”
“Not much,” said Scorio. “My name, the name of the city, little more than that.”
“Not our business,” said Helena pointedly. “We’d be glad to help.”
“And get involved in Academy or House business? Not likely. We’re better off scraping by and staying alive than getting mixed up in your trouble.”
Helena’s smile grew stiff as she wheeled to face her friend. “How about we step aside to talk about this?”
“How about we tell this guy to find another pair of idiots to rope into his troubles?”
“Let’s talk. Excuse us, Master Scorio.” And Helena draped a tanned arm over her friend’s compact shoulders and forcefully steered her to the side of the street.
Scorio waited. Helena was clearly doing most of the talking. Feiyan stood with her arms crossed and stared off down the street, her expression set.
Helena threw up her hands, walked away five steps, turned back, hunched her shoulders, and held her hands out as if cupping a bowl, speaking rapidly, her tone insistent. Feiyan looked sidelong at her, eyebrow raised, gave a snort, looked away. Helena straightened, hands on hips, said something pointed. Feiyan started, glowered at her, to which Helena nodded slowly, as if affirming some bitter truth.
At last, Feiyan sighed, shook her head in bitter resignation, then gave the barest of nods.
Helena turned back to Scorio and beamed. “We’ve reached an agreement. Help in exchange for your gem. But our partnership will be of an extremely limited duration. We’ll get you a set of clean robes, a hot meal, answer any questions you may have, and then bid you goodbye. Deal?”
“Deal,” said Scorio mildly. He knew he was being cheated out of an enormous sum, but what good would the sapphire do him if he starved to death in the ruins, or was arrested by more respectable locals the moment he stepped into view?
“Excellent.” Helena strode up to him, and up close he saw that she wore metallic eyeshadow, bright yellow at the corners of her eyes which gradated to a rich crimson at the wings. “Let’s get this relationship off to a good start. The gem?”
“Here,” he said, patting his robe. “I’ll give it to you once I’ve had my meal and received the robes.”
“Sure you will,” said Feiyan, drifting up behind her partner. “Why would we ever doubt you?”
“My friend raises a good point,” said Helena. “How are we to trust you?”
“You can’t,” said Scorio. “But there’s got to be a little trust if this is going to work.”
“You armed?” asked Feiyan.
“A dagger.”
“Hand it over and you can hold onto the gem.”
“What’s to stop you from taking it from me by force if I do?”
Feiyan’s smile was darkly amused. “What’s to stop us from doing so now?”
“Trust,” said Helena, as if discovering the word for the first time. “Let’s try it. Come on. We’ve a glorious camp not too far from here. We can talk there.”
“Great,” said Feiyan. “This is getting better and better.”
Scorio smiled and inclined his head. “Lead on.”
They split, both walking just ahead and on opposite sides of him, glancing back as they led him down the darkening street.
“So, Scorio.” Helena’s tone was bright, curious, probing. “What do you want to know?”
“We’re not sharing anything personal,” warned Feiyan.
What did he want to know? Everything. But where to start? Scorio felt momentarily overwhelmed by the enormity of his ignorance. The sun-wire had now dimmed to a ruddy copper, and the light had changed accordingly. Slowly darkening toward—what?
His first question just popped into his mind. “Why is a third of the city ruined?”
The two women exchanged glances again. “Nobody knows,” said Helena. “Why does a plant wither in time? Why does hot passion one day run cold? Bastion’s dying.”
“So it’s a natural process? Not part of the war?”
“I didn’t say that.” She sounded almost irritated. “But if you’re going to ask those kinds of questions, we won’t be of much help. We’re just a pair of innocent troubadours and harvesters, you see? A couple of talented ladies trying to get by. Ignorant of such grand and, ah, metaphysical questions.”
Feiyan snorted.
“What?” asked Helena, grinning. “You know something I don’t?”
To which Feiyan just smiled and shook her head.
“All right. The Houses. One of them’s House Hydra, right?”
“That’s right,” said Helena.
Feiyan kicked a pebble and sent it skittering. “They the ones you stole the gem from?”
“What can you tell me about them?”
“Some, but not too much,” replied Helena. “Only what we’ve seen from our impoverished perspective, languishing on the streets.” They reached an intersection, and Feiyan turned without hesitation to the left, leading them down a narrower road. “There are four great Houses, with Hydra being the most prestigious, the most political of them.”
“Kraken is the most prestigious,” said Feiyan.
“No it’s not,” said Helena, clicking her tongue in annoyance. “It’s the richest. Money doesn’t equal prestige.”
Feiyan didn’t look convinced. “Does in my books.”
“And that’s why I love your little mercenary soul,” said Helena. “But anyways, Hydra’s where most of the ruling council comes from. So. House Hydra, House Kraken with their endless vaults of treasures and wealth, House Chimera, the youngest house—”
Feiyan stopped before a mostly demolished building, half of its face slurried down into the street, and moved to climb in through one of the dark windows. “Chimera’s been making a name for itself. Growing famous for deep-hell acquisitions.”
“Sure,” said Helena tolerantly. “And then there’s House Basilisk, the eldest and most nefarious.” She looked at Scorio speculatively. “Which, to be honest, is whom we’ll probably be selling your gem to.”
A light bloomed inside the building, and Feiyan appeared, holding a lantern aloft. “Hurry up, get inside. Light’ll attract trouble.”
“After you,” said Helena, with another mocking bow.
Scorio climbed inside. The room was barren and decrepit, the walls cracked, the floor covered in detritus. Nothing that would cause him to enter if he’d looked into it while passing by.
Feiyan had stepped away from him, hand resting on the head of her hammer, and watched him closely. He raised both palms, but her studiedly neutral expression remained unchanged.
Helena vaulted lithely inside, and Feiyan led the way deeper into the building, to a central room with no windows. A stairwell led down into the dark, but instead of descending, Feiyan set the lantern on a ledge and stared at Helena. “We can talk here.”
“Smart.” Helena sighed, unshouldered her pack and fiddle, then bent down to touch her toes. “Though not as comfortable.”
More to show that he wasn’t going to be a threat, Scorio sat with his back to the wall. He felt light-headed with hunger, but instinct told him to be patient. “These Houses. They run things in Bastion, then?”
“Yes,” said Feiyan.
“Mostly. Kind of. Depends what you mean,” said Helena, sitting across the room from him, her long arms resting atop her knees. “They haven’t been doing such a great job of late, what with the failed prophecy, the riots, the rise of the Deniers, the calls for equality, you know.” She gave an airy wave of her hand. “The Academy’s its own thing, of course, from where the Houses try to recruit as many new Great Souls as they can. Supposed to offer new graduates all kinds of wealth and power. Most of the leadership in each House is a Great Soul as a result.”