The Prisoner's Release and Other Stories (16 page)

Disembarking from the cab, the first glimpse they had of Alexan’s house was not promising. Jonas felt his fur prickle with memories of the fox’s death flooding back to him. He heard Benton’s sharp indrawn breath, and then he noticed that the door was slightly ajar.

They walked up the stairs in silence and eased the door open, and Jonas saw immediately that he was not going to get any help for his new start. The floor was littered with broken pieces of pottery and piles of cloth, and the part of the living room he could see was empty of furniture. Dazed, he wandered into the spare room and saw that it had been stripped bare; his bed and nightstand were gone, and his family pendant with them. The rest of the house was no better. Even the stove was gone from the kitchen; marks on the floor and a broken window (with damaged frame) showed where it had gone. The food, of course, had been cleared out, and when he returned to the living room, he saw Benton in the doorway of Alexan’s bedroom shaking his head, and knew it wasn’t worth even going in.

“
Did Alexan have a…a secret hiding place? For money, or something?” Benton’s voice was soft.

Jonas shrugged. “I didn’t know of any.”

Benton sighed. “I’m sorry. I guess someone saw them take the body out and just forced their way in. Jherik says that happens sometimes. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”

Jonas nodded, already walking quickly to the front door. He felt uncomfortable in the house to begin with, and seeing it stripped and ravaged was even more unsettling. He also hadn’t realized how much he’d been counting on getting some of Alexan’s money until it had been taken from him. The feeling reminded him of the sickness in the bottom of his stomach when he’d found his chest empty and his savings gone, only here there was no Sasha to blame, just himself and shadowy unknown figures. He worked his paws as he stepped out of the doorway, claws sliding in and out as he tried to calm down.

The quiet in the familiar street outside soothed him and stopped his tail from twitching. After a moment, he sat on the front stairs and breathed slowly in the cool morning air. His paws rested on his knees; his claws remained sheathed.

Benton closed the door and sat on the stair just above him. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Jonas sighed. “It’s so strange. Two…three days ago, everything looked so good. I thought maybe if his plan worked, things would get better.”

“
You weren’t happy,” Benton said softly.

It felt like a betrayal of Alexan’s memory, but Jonas slowly shook his head. “But it’s not his fault. I mean, not all of it. He could be so sweet sometimes, he was just worried about losing his business. And I forced myself on him, and that gave him one more thing to worry about. If I’d only been…” He wrenched his thoughts away from that last encounter, feeling himself dangerously close to tears.

Benton let him sit in silence, only placing a paw on his shoulder. Jonas found comfort in the gesture, as he relaxed and tried to calm his breathing and his tail, which had started to lash again. He watched the narrow street, each of the houses he’d come to know on his way to and from Alexan’s place. The house across the street whose door had been recently replaced was the most familiar to him. He knew the peculiar patterns of its walls and the flaws in both windows that faced the street, and he knew the family of badgers that lived there. The other houses had their place, too; he knew their quirks and some of the residents, but as he thought about them now, his feeling of comfort was tarnished by wondering which of them had broken in and taken Alexan’s things.
Which one of you has his carpets, his glassware, his clothes?
he thought. He glanced two houses down, where he knew a family of foxes lived, and for a brief moment he thought about going there to demand that they return whatever they’d taken. With a guilty thrill, he remembered the satisfaction of hitting Pike across the muzzle, but the memory faded to a dull ache as he remembered the raccoon’s friendship even afterwards. His claws had extended to prick his knees; he forced them back in again, pulling his gaze back from the house to stare at the cracked stone of the step in front of him.

Benton coughed, and when Jonas turned, the fox was studying the position of the sun. “We should start to head back,” he said softly, and Jonas nodded. But when they reached the main street, Benton trudged along the cobblestones, not even looking for a cab. Jonas started to hail one, and the fox pulled his arm down. “I don’t have enough money for one,” he said, ears down. “I thought…I thought we’d use some of Alexan’s money to get back.”

“
Oh.” Jonas fell in behind Benton. “I’m sorry.”

“
Not your fault.” After more silence, Benton said, “If you need to stay with us again tonight…”

“
No.” After what he’d heard, he was determined not to cause more problems for them. “I’ll go to Mikka. He might be able to help me out.”

“
I’m sure he’d be glad to have you staying with him, at least,” Benton said.

Jonas felt his fur prickle, but he didn’t say anything. No matter what help he asked from Mikka, he was sure sex would be part of his price. Benton’s tail flagged briefly. “I’m sorry,” the fox said. “I shouldn’t judge. Anyway, you used to do that professionally, so I’m sure you’re good at it and worth whatever he’d pay.”

When Jonas still didn’t reply, Benton went on. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s a noble occupation, and certainly not one everyone can do. I just hope you get paid well.”

Jonas sighed. “I can always just go join a brothel somewhere.”

Benton looked at him. “Does it matter whether you do it on your own or in a house?”

“
I didn’t think so, but maybe it does. You know, if it’s me, then I’m making the decisions. I worked in a brothel for a while and I hated it.”

“
Was it just that someone else was telling you what to do? I mean…I thought…that was part of the job.”

“
It is, but when I’m with a client…” He searched for the words. “They can ask for something specific, but I can tell what they want and I can figure out how to make them happy. So I’m making the decisions. But people telling me how short to keep my fur, or how many clients to see…I just hate that.”

“
You hate your fur being cut, but not having sex with some stranger?”

Jonas bristled, then relaxed as he saw the fox’s grin. “I thought I hated all of it. And I think if I really had a choice, I would find something else to do. But my other choice seems to be to starve.”

Benton folded his ears back, and his grin wavered. “Well…from what I saw that one night, you are pretty good. And I know that, uh, that’s not easy.”

Jonas wasn’t sure how much he wanted to talk about that night. “It would’ve been harder if he’d been more drunk.”

“
Oh, when Jherik’s even a little drunk, he can’t focus long enough to do anything.”

Jonas put a paw on the fox’s shoulder. “Let me tell you a little trick…”

He felt like Sasha for a moment, telling Benton the trick Sasha had taught him for dealing with drunk clients. The fox grinned when Benton was done. “I’ll have to remember that one. I’m sure I can dig up a cheesecloth somewhere.”

“
A linen napkin will do, if you can’t.” Jonas smiled at Benton’s perked ears and smile. It was nice to know that there was more than one way he could make people happy.

For nearly an hour, they walked through the winding streets of Caril. Benton knew exactly where he was going, and Jonas followed, noticing the stares of the people passing them on the street more than where they were going. When he’d begun to run errands for Alexan to the small local markets, he’d gotten the same stares until the people were used to him. A cougar in this part of town was unusual enough; one dressed like a…well, like a peasant…that was nearly alarming. He tried to avoid looking at them, because as soon as they met his eyes, they would look away quickly, either ashamed of their own stares or embarrassed for him. But he felt their eyes on his back after he passed.

He’d never been to the Great Market, but when the sounds and smells reached him all at once, he knew what they were approaching. The palace, ever-visible above the rooftops, had been drawing closer, and though they were still probably an hour’s walk from it, they were closer than Jonas had ever been. Just ahead, as they turned a corner, the noise and scents rose into sharp relief as a raucous jumble of stalls and wares came into view. Here, finally, the attention on Jonas diminished; people were hurrying to or from the market, and he supposed that cougars weren’t as unusual here.

“
Come on,” Benton said, “and stay close. Mikka’s shop is near Master Talid’s, off the High Market.”

“
Is this the Low Market?” Jonas asked, but got no reply, as Benton dove into the crowd.

It was all Jonas could do to follow the fox’s red pelt and scent through the bustle of people. He didn’t dare glance to either side to see the goods for sale, though he did catch glimpses of colorful clay pots, thickly woven and patterned rugs, birds in cages, birds on racks, hundreds of different wooden crafts, and many things that caught fleetingly at the edge of his vision without registering a form or a name. Benton dodged expertly through the crowds, and Jonas had to use his height and strength to force a path behind the fox, thanking Felis that there weren’t more red pelts in the throng.

On the other side of the market, Benton pointed up to a collection of stalls on a small rise. “That’s the High Market,” he said. “The nobles all shop there. Master Talid and Mikka both sell mostly to the High Market, so their workshops are down over this way.” He pointed down a street. “Master Talid’s store is there. I still have enough time to walk you to Mikka’s. It’s only half a mile away.”

They walked around the High Market and down a narrow street. In this part of town, Jonas felt, the stares from passersby were not because he was a cougar, but because he was an ill-dressed one. His clothes, still the ones he’d fled Tephos in, were ragged and dustier than they’d ever been, and his feet were filthy from the walk along the streets. He did his best to ignore the looks.

Benton led Jonas up to a low building, clean and neat, with a smoothly polished door. “Mikka should be here. He goes up to the market in the mornings, like Master Talid, and then comes back to supervise work in the afternoons.”

A young weasel opened to Benton’s knock and peered out, his eyes widening a bit as he saw Jonas. He addressed Benton, but his glances kept flicking back up to the cougar. “May I help you?”

“
Is Mikka—Master White—in the shop?”

The weasel nodded. “Are you representing a noble?”

“
He knows us.” Benton nodded at Jonas. “This is a friend of his.”

“
Oh. Come in, then.”

“
I’ll get back to the shop.” Benton clasped Jonas’s paw and smiled. “Good luck. Please come by and let us know how you’re doing.”

“
I will. Thanks for everything.” He pulled the fox into a hug. “I promise I’ll repay you some day.”

“
Oh, don’t worry.” Benton returned the hug and then stepped back, giving a cheerful wave. “Just stay happy.”

Happy? Jonas thought. That wasn’t even on his horizon. He was just hoping to stay alive.

Chapter 9

Mikka was brushing his paws together when Jonas stepped inside. Small pieces of thread and something that glittered drifted to the floor in his wake, and some remained on his paws as he walked up to Jonas. His ears canted back and his eyes were sympathetic. “You poor thing. Did you walk all the way here? Come in back, we have some water you can wash up with.”

Jonas was staring around the shop, at the richly colored and decorated garments that were carefully hung in rows on the walls, from racks attached to the ceiling, from standing racks on the door, and even on the back of the door that Mikka gently closed before leading Jonas to the back of the shop, past a counter upon which several shirts were folded, and through a small door into the back.

The young weasel who’d answered the door was climbing up to a shelf that contained small bins. He turned as Jonas and Mikka entered, as did the two apprentices who were carefully sewing at a workbench. One was a rabbit, the other a mouse; both were male, slender, and attractive. A separate table with a partially-finished scarf on it appeared to be where Mikka had been working, as it was scattered with sparkling flakes, and a second separate table was not in use.

“
Jarga, Kerial, Millick, this is Jonas. Jonas…” Mikka waved vaguely in the direction of the three youngsters. “Jarga, Kerial, Millick.”

Jonas waved and then followed the disappearing fox tail through the door at the back of the back room.

He emerged into a small courtyard, open to the air. The only other visible exit was a small wooden door in the back wall. The strong scent from that direction indicated that an outhouse lay behind it, probably a common one shared by many residents of the street. Several small juniper bushes grew beside the door, obviously meant to mask the smell, and they did a good job, but not a complete one. Otherwise, the courtyard was very pleasant, neat and well-kept, and decorated with touches of paint and a line of drying clothes that looked almost artistic.