77th of Winter, 519 AV
Cleanliness. The truth was the Lantern had been slipping and falling far beneath the Madame’s standards in this aspect for quite some time, but the brothel workers’ response to her urgings had been lackluster of late. Enthusiasm had been sapped by autumn’s unseasonal heat, and winter’s unexpected cold had done productivity no favors. Where before heat had sapped their strength, now all any of them wanted to do when there were no clients to be seen to was sit in front of a fire or snuggle in the warmth of long winter clothes and heavy blankets. In truth, the sudden lack of exposed flesh had turned a portion of their clientele off and, in doing so, had turned them away. So with free time on their hands, the Madame had demanded that the woman and men of the Lantern clean their precious home.
For that reason, Luthisa’s arrival seemed god sent. That day, Madame Belladonna had delivered an ultimatum, but her employee’s response had been half-assed. Small attempts were made, but no true progress had come of it.
So when Luthisa entered the Red Lantern, everybody was only too happy to stop their chores and see to the woman and what it was that she might need.
Autumn had been brushing dust off of hard to reach places to keep herself entertained. Her projection was her weakness, so the effort took concentrated will. She would force mist into her hand, creating a simple wall of mist in her palm before shoving it forward to catch the dust and sweep it free. The little puffs and tufts of dust that drifted down were only helping to emphasize the Madame’s point about their home and place of work being too dirty. At one point, Gweneveh shot the empty air that was Autumn a dirty look that told her she’d better stop. She hadn’t, but Luthisa’s arrival was something to distract her. Formless and invisible, Autumn drifted closer to catch what the woman had come for.
Luthisa fended off compliments and invitations with a knowing smile. “Ladies, ladies, ladies. You are all very lovely, and if I were a young man, I wouldn’t be able to resist your charms, I’m sure, but I didn’t come here today seeking your services. I came offering mine.”
Aurelie voiced the question on everyone’s mind. “What services are those?”
“Children.” Luthisa smiled a kind smile, but at the odd looks she got from the prostitutes, she quickly explained herself. “Oh, not for you ladies’ line of work. I would never dream of that. They’re children.” She said that with a motherly conviction that everyone in the Lantern seemed to share and, in that statement, immediately bought the trust of everyone listening. “No, no. My children are servants, meant to do the menial tasks that the day-to-day running of the business requires but that I’m sure you are all too busy to handle.”
It was a compliment to their beauty, and though they were in the business of selling lies and telling people what they wanted to hear, the women of the Red Lantern were easily bought by this new woman’s flattery. It wasn’t heavy-handed and overdone in the way many people passed out compliments. It came, once again, with a motherly quality, the warm calm that said everything was alright and they were all special. She went on.
“Let me let you continue your fine work by taking away the irritating and unwanted tasks. The cleaning, the cooking, all the daily care such an establishment requires. My children are some of the finest when it comes to such things. They are fastidious, and they will be so when it comes to the care of your home. I assure you all of them obedient and polite, and they will do what they are asked. I promise you, they are well worth the price of their services.”
Belladonna stepped forward. Ever the business woman, she asked the important question. “And what is that price?”
“Ah, the madame of the house. Rumors of your beauty do you no justice, child.” Luthisa knew who was in charge. It was perhaps a more obvious compliment than her previous ones, and Belladonna was not one to be bought by flattery. Seeing this Luthisa answered her question. “Five golden mizas a day. Sorry, I forget where I am. Five kina.”
“Five kina?” Aurelie was stunned. “I don’t even make that in a night.”
“Of course, I realize the price I ask for them is high, but that is for a full day. Twenty-four bells. They will need four bells of rest, but they will work steadily otherwise, except when they need small meals. I promise you, you will be more than satisfied with the results. What do you say? May I bring the children in so you can meet them? It’s cold outside, and I’d rather not keep them waiting.”
Belladonna might not have been entirely convinced by what Luthisa was selling, but she wasn’t heartless either. “By the Goddess, yes, bring them in. Don’t leave them out in this cold. They’re children.”
Luthisa gave a small dip of her head in thanks to her host and stepped outside. A few ticks later, she opened the door and ushered in a line of children. There were a nearly a dozen of them, and all were clean and dressed plainly but well. They filed in and stood in a line almost shoulder to shoulder, each shivering and cold but showing little reaction to the discomfort other than to reach up and rub their arms.
Several of the workers cooed in affection over the adorable children that had entered their home. All looked well-cared for, healthy and clean, strong and capable.
Already hovering nearby, Autumn began to approach, but something felt wrong. That deep bite at the edge of one’s soul that warned, the caution of instinct, would have had her hair standing on end had she been living. As it was, the mist that made her up began to murmur in discontent, gathering the stray strands so that she might have more to act on whatever was causing this feeling. The most dangerous side of Autumn, the motherly one, pushed and drew her nearer to the children. And that’s when she saw it.
In the girl nearest to her, a beautiful young blonde with bright blue eyes that should have reflected the wonder of the world back at it, there was nothing. Her brilliant eyes were empty, like glass taxidermized eyes, emotionless. There should have been a light there. Curoisity. Mischief. Something. But there was not. The spark that made children children was gone.
Autumn’s attention drifted across the line. It was the same for the little girl next to the first, a shorter round-faced brunette. And the taller, freckled boy next to her. And the dark-skinned boy next to him. And the equally dark-skinned girl next to him that could only be his sister. And the-
Autumn froze, staring at the boy in front of her. Scrawny, bright green eyes, ears too big for his head. She had seen him before, but it was impossible.
He was dead.
The gathering mists about her ruptured as Autumn’s fragile emotions could hold them back no more. Confusion, anger, hate, fear, love. It was too much. It was impossible. She had heard the man from the Underground tell another of how he had killed him. But this was a face she recognized. He was exactly as she had remembered him when he was a child.
Maro.
In an instant, her emotions pushed out into the fringes of her soul and onward, and the temperature in the room dropped to freezing as if an entire wall of the Lantern had just fallen down.
“Who the petch left a window open?” Belladonna shouted.
No one wanted to be on her bad side today as none of them had been on her good side to start out. Their lack of dedication to the cleaning had not endeared any of them to her, and none of them wanted to be the last one out of her sight. Knowing exactly what the cause was, Gweneveh wasn’t as quick to leave, though she made a show of leaving to go check.
Belladonna caught her arm and pulled her aside roughly. Gweneveh was perhaps her closest friend, but that didn’t let her off the hook in matters concerning the Red Lantern. “I thought you said she was gone.”
“I never said that. You assumed it.” Gweneveh knew her position at the Lantern was not as precarious as some and stood her ground on the matter.
“I thought I made it clear I wanted her gone.”
“And never once did you ask me what I thought or wanted, Bee.” There was accusation in Gweneveh’s glare.
The Madame’s face softened a little. “Perhaps I should have, but ghosts are dangerous.”
“Not her. When has she once caused harm?”
“There was that night with Miss Craven.”
“The spiritist attacked her first,” Gweneveh defended Autumn.
That was how the ghost had recounted the story to Gweneveh, but if all parties were being truthful, Autumn had been the one to provoke. The moment Madeira had shown up, Autumn had treated her with nothing but guarded hostility. She wasn’t about to correct the women now though. They’re conversation barely registered as her eyes continued to assess this thing that was Maro but couldn’t be. Desperation searched for some detail that would assure her he was not him. They didn’t find it.
“I’ll talk with her, see what has her upset. It’ll be fine. Alright?”
“I don’t like it.” Belladonna wanted her displeasure known. Seeing that Gweneveh wasn’t backing down on this though, she nodded. “We’ll see what comes of this. I’m still not promising that I’m not off to find a spiritist first thing.”
Gweneveh started toward her room, slowly making her way there as if doing so would draw Autumn, but the ghost was already ahead of her. Autumn needed more time with the boy, private time, alone and away from questioning and judgmental eyes, and that she wouldn’t get out here.
As soon as Gweneveh was through the door to their room, Autumn materialized.
“Wha-?” Gweneveh tried to get a question out.
“Hire the boy. The scrawny one with the big ears and green eyes.”
“What’s gotten in to-”
“Gweneveh!” With Autumn’s shout, the room grew frigid, and Gweneveh’s breath froze in a cloud as it escaped from her lips. Autumn tenderly gathered her mist back into herself and tried to keep calm. She hadn’t meant to frighten her friend, but Gweneveh had shrunk away from her. “Please.”
Calming herself more, the chaotic, sparking mists began to dull to speedy roil. “Please. Just do this for me. I’ll explain when I can.”
Scared, Gweneveh said nothing, just nodded and ducked out of the room to do as Autumn asked.
And Autumn waited, waited to make herself known to this person wearing Maro’s face, waited to confront them. She didn’t know what she would do or say.
Autumn waited alone.
