Chapter Text
Erynn packed his bags and left late that night, brushing past the maid who called out to him, asking where was he going? He didn’t turn around, didn’t respond. Just walked faster. His father was in his study, and mom was working late tonight. They wouldn’t even know he was gone until it was too late. Erynn pushed open the door and stopped, pausing. He turned slightly, exposing some of his face. It looked damp. His eyes burned with ragged fire.
“Tell Sarah I’m sorry,” he said, swallowing. Then he disappeared into the night.
He was fifteen; tall for his age and gangly, his movements heavy with a hulking step that suggested that he was still getting used to his height. He wore a thick sweater and jeans, which only helped to cut against the night air and not the deep chill seeping its way into his skin. His hair was black and growing out in ragged strands that he hadn’t let his mother cut. There was a faint bristle of stubble along his cheeks, but it wasn’t anything more than a shadow. His eyes were black as well and full of anger. How dare they treat him this way! He hadn’t ever wanted more than to fulfill their expectations. They’d set him on a path in life, and now that he was questioning it they thought he rebelled? He would show them rebellion.
The train station was close enough that it only took Erynn an hour to walk there. He was out of breath by the time he arrived, panting and sliding the bag from his back. He’d left in a hurry, without bringing very much clothing or food, but after an hour his back still burned. There was one bored security guard with a flashlight, who trailed the light lazily along the ground. When the guard disappeared around the corner Erynn dashed into the station. Technically, it wasn’t closed, but very few trains still ran at night, and all he could hope was that the ticket he’d bought a few days ago would be enough.
There was only one other person at the station, who sat at a bench on their phone. They had their bag behind their head like a pillow and dark rings around their eyes. It seemed that they had been here for a while. Erynn glanced at the flickering sign above them, which read three. He looked at his watch. It wasn’t yet two thirty. Sighing, he slouched over to a bench and threw himself down, grumbling to himself. His parents would realize soon that something was wrong and chase after him. He had to get away before they realized where he’d gone, or they’d take him back home and he’d never get another chance to leave.
The station itself was small, only a few benches and a brick kiosk that wasn’t being manned anymore. A vending machine was pushed up against the kiosk, and the sign that listed the train arrivals hung on the side of the kiosk. The train tracks yawned out beyond the benches, heading off into infinity. They lead to Aecora in one direction, the city of the people. The other direction was more towns. Towns that all looked the same. Towns that wouldn’t let him become anything more than he was already. Towns that would send him home once they discovered who he was. But in Aecora, he could disappear. No one would know his name or family in the city. They wouldn’t care, and he could become one of them, achieving everything he wanted, everything his parents disdained. The thought of the city and what it promised curled up the corners of his lips, and he leaned forward in anticipation, glaring at the blinking sign that refused to change to two forty.
There was the sound of a revving car engine and the coughing growl of it growing closer. Erynn tensed on his bench. The other person, a woman bundled in a long coat, looked at him curiously as he cursed and dived behind the kiosk. Maybe it was his parents. Maybe it wasn’t. He couldn’t afford to take the chance that it was and risk losing everything. The car engine growled again, and then grew fainter until it disappeared with a whimper. Nothing else was heard except the cicadas and the yowl of a cat. Erynn sighed in relief. Something in his chest refused to loosen though. His heart throbbed with pain, and he massaged his chest, uncertain why he felt this way when he should be happy. In a way, all he felt was disappointment, though he wouldn’t figure that out until much later, when it was too late to change anything.
No other engines approached except the train engine. It pulled up with a chag-a-chag-a and a piercing shriek of air. Magic couldn’t make the trains run any faster, but it did ensure that they wouldn’t break down before they reached their destination, and it was exactly three in the morning when the train arrived with a puff of blue steam.
Erynn leapt off his bench, pulling his bag onto his back again. He was filled with energy, that coursed through his limbs with nervous delight. He tried not to show his excitement as he slouched out onto the platform, mounting the step onto the train with a quiver of expectation. He had an idea for how he wanted things to go, and he would do anything- had done it already- to make that idea a reality. His face shone with youthful brightness, even as it was engulfed in shadow. Erynn settled into a seat away from the windows. If his parents showed up now, he didn’t want them to see him. There was nothing they could do to stop a moving train, but he was nervous anyway. So much could still go wrong. He had to make it to the train station at Aecora, make it there without any kind of incident. There wouldn’t be an incident- he couldn’t do anything worth having an incident over except getting angry -but he worried still. He hadn’t inherited much of his father’s magic, though Viridis didn’t have much of that either.
If Erynn concentrated very hard, he could make a seed sprout some green shoots. It wasn’t really an impressive skill that he advertised. Not that nature magic was something that should be advertised in the first place. Erynn ignored the little horns hidden in his hair, that burned against his skin as he thought of magic. If he didn’t think of them, it was as if they didn’t exist, and he preferred it that way. The days of fae being openly persecuted were well past, and his fae blood was diluted enough (his father was half earth spirit) that people couldn’t tell by looking at him. He’d never been to the city before. His parents considered Aecora a den of sin, a place of ill repute where children were corrupted under the influence of drugs and violence. They’d kept Erynn close, letting him visit the surrounding towns, but never taking him or his sister to the city itself. Aecora was three and a half hours away by train. Far enough from home that it would take his parents a few hours to get there by car.
But they wouldn’t. They hated it in Aecora. They knew it was the first place that he would go. Erynn put his bag on his lap and got out his phone, scrolling through the pictures. There were a few of him and his parents; his face was chubby with baby fat, and he had a gap-toothed guileless smile. Erynn swept past these with an angry jerk of his thumb. Some of the pictures were of a shaggy dog who even wagged his tail in pictures. Most of Erynn’s camera roll was a skinny girl with black hair, who looked a little like a crow. She stared into the camera with an open trust. Vulnerability. In some of the pictures she was in a hospital bed, a hospital bracelet on her thin wrist. There was a cheerfulness to her face that even the stark whiteness of the hospital couldn’t wipe away, and Erynn lingered on these pictures, his phone trembling in his hands as he looked at them. Sarah. He formed the name with his lips, a silent whisper. Clenching the phone tight, he closed the app and opened his contacts. Pain filled his throat, his heart. With a few swipes he deleted all of them.
That was it. He’d severed contact with everyone he’d ever known in favor of something he couldn’t even explain. Erynn turned off his phone and put it away. It was hard not to fling it, but he resisted. Gripping his bag, Erynn leaned his head back against the seat. His eyes were heavy. Like he hadn’t slept in a week. The weight of what he’d done strained his soul in some imperceptible way, and if he’d been asked about it he wouldn’t have been able to describe it. It was the feeling of freedom. It was the price of it.
The train ride wasn’t very long, but it felt like a small eternity, even with a nap. Erynn had turned his phone off, and when he turned it on again there were ten voicemails and thirteen missed calls. He blocked both his parent’s numbers, resolving to get a new phone as soon as he could. When the train doors finally opened and Erynn stepped outside, the sky was beginning to lighten. It was hard to tell whether it was really the sky, or if it just looked that way because of all the lights. The station was bathed in yellow and white, the glare from it all catching in Erynn’s eyes. He squinted, shielding his eyes with an arm as he gazed around. He’d never seen anything so large. The station was big, almost cavernous. There was a ticket booth with the train times above it tucked into a wall, which despite the time had a line of people waiting. An information desk was in the center of the station with an old fashioned clock hovering on a stream of energy.
Erynn spent some time wandering through the station, looking for an exit. He passed something that looked like a ballroom with a painted ceiling and chandeliers, a lost-and-found bureau (he almost asked there if he counted as a lost item that could be returned, but that struck too true), a theater with an empty newsreel beside it, an opulent waiting room, and so many tunnels that he got a crick in his neck staring around at all of them. After wandering past some restaurants and catching a savory whiff that tickled his nose and made him drool, he stopped. People flowed around him on their way, carrying their briefcases and luggage, their feet clicking along the marble in high heels or loafers. They were all heading somewhere, so he headed that way too, and eventually spilled out onto a sidewalk.
It had been warm in the station with so many bodies all around, but now he was cold again. Erynn shivered. He fumbled in his bag for his coat, pulling it on with numb fingers. His fingers tingled as he rubbed some warmth into them and shoved them into his pockets. Hunching against the cold, he walked forward, almost out into a street. A car skidding past honked its horn, and Erynn jumped back with a curse. Sidewalks trailed in straight lines along the roads, intersected by crosswalks. Glass, concrete and brick buildings were shoved along the crosswalks, boasting neon signs. One advertised a nail salon, another chinese food. There were banks and drugstores side by side, all of them festooned with color. He walked past them all, blinking in awe at the hotels that towered ten stories up, cutting a proud figure against the brightening morning.
Erynn tried to ignore the growling in his stomach as he walked toward one of the hotels. A valet in a full uniform held out a hand, stopping him.
“Do you have a car that needs to be parked, sir?” the valet asked.
Erynn blinked at him. With his bag slung over his shoulder and the weariness that must have been seeped into every line of his face by now, he didn’t think he looked like someone who needed a car parked. “No,” Erynn said slowly. He squinted up at the sign, which called the hotel the Red Dragon Suites. There was a smaller sign below it, not in neon and at eye level. “Card paying customers only”. He bit his lip and fished out his wallet, walking through the automatic doors, which swished open at his step. The inside had a fountain that cascaded down a clear wall with red pebbles at the bottom. Abstract paintings that looked like they’d been picked up at a home decorating store were tastefully hung on the walls. In keeping with the hotel theme, there were photographs of dragons in frames, dispersed around the paintings. Erynn glanced at them while he waited in line at the front desk for the receptionist. There was a kind of dinginess to his surroundings, something impercitable. It wasn’t a dinginess exposed in the walls or the objects around him; they were all white and immaculate. A delicate glass vase perched on the front desk, besides brochures that extolled the hotel’s virtues. Still, there was something Erynn didn’t like. He’d never been to a hotel alone before. He was in new water, uncharted territory.
Grimacing, he thumbed through the contents of his wallet. He’d filched some bills from his parents, and he had a debit card, though there wasn’t much money on it. When it was his turn Erynn went up to the desk, leaning forward on it with a careful blank expression.
The receptionist raised his eyebrow. “May I help you?”
He watched as Erynn schooled his expression again, fighting to hold back a shiver. “I want a room for the night.” Erynn slid his card across the desk.
The receptionist looked at it, his brows climbing higher. “Do you already have a reservation with us?” he asked.
Erynn shook his head.
The receptionist sighed. “Well. We have a few rooms still available, but I’d need a signature from an adult. How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” Erynn said. His eyes were wide and blank.
The receptionist’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. He took the card from Erynn, swiping it through the system. He squinted at the screen, typing on his computer. Then he looked up. “I’m sorry, but it says there isn’t any money on your card.”
“What?” Erynn almost slammed his fist on the desk. No, that couldn’t be right! He’d been saving up money from his summer job. There should have been enough money on that card for at least a few days. “Um.” Erynn flushed, pulling at his sweater. The wool clung to his skin, oppressively hot. “I have some cash...I know the sign says you don’t take any…”
“Sorry kid.” The receptionist gave the debit card back to him. “Hotel policy, there’s nothing I can do.”
Erynn crushed the card in his fist, which trembled white with rage. He stalked away without thanking the receptionist and crashed through the automatic doors, not pausing when they hesitated to open. If they hadn’t, he would have kicked them down with a foot. Outside the sky was turning pink beyond the city’s glare. Erynn stopped, breathing in the cold fresh air, letting it fill his lungs and chill them. Grim laughter bubbled on his lips. So the hotels were closed to him, the ones that accepted cards at least. No matter. He could find a place that would take cash. If he couldn’t, he’d find a place that would let him work for his keep.
His steps were heavier now, and his shoulder burned where the bag rested on it. Erynn yawned, concealing it behind a hand. He yawned again, hard enough that his jaw cracked, sending splinters of pain along his mouth. Wincing, he massaged his jaw, and cursed again. Where could he go now? Everywhere he looked, there were shops, places for people to go with money. Erynn opened his wallet, counting out the cash again. He shook it, and a few loose coins plinked into his palm. It was day now, day and he hadn’t even closed his eyes except on the train for a moment. His eyes felt thick, and they slid shut no matter how many times he tried to force them open. They were crusty. When he looked at his reflection in a shop window there were dark circles under his eyes. They were also red and puffy.
He scrubbed at his eyes, slapping his face to wake himself up. The sting of his hand connecting with his skin made him shiver, but it couldn’t change his pallor or raise enough of a reaction in him to be worthwhile. Erynn drifted through the city half in a dream, stumbling against whoever was in his way and brushing off their sharp protests. He couldn’t hear them through the fog that clouded his mind. It wasn’t as if he’d never been tired before. On occasion he’d pulled all-nighters. But it was different this time. Little moments had been building up for weeks, months, years. Moments that would define the rest of his life. Erynn didn’t know it yet, but his wish would come true. He’d left home in a fit of passion, and he wouldn’t see home again for years. The decisions of a fifteen year old boy were the decisions that would define him as a man. A bittersweet burden.
Ignorant of this, Erynn limped to a park bench and fell onto it. He was asleep before he could even curl onto his side. When he woke later he could feel that something was different. He frowned and with a hand explored the space around him. His eyes were still glued shut, too heavy to open yet. Erynn groaned; his hands were like blocks of ice. Dragging them along the bench was like dragging an object he couldn’t lift. Abruptly he realized what was wrong, and his eyes sprung open. He hopped up, cursing.
“Shit! Oh hell, why me?” he cried. Erynn slumped back onto the bench, burying his face in his hands. His throat burned with tears, thick tears that he choked on but couldn’t release. He stayed like that on the bench until the cold drove him back up again. Where even was he? A sign told him Clementine Street, another Davison Street. He looked down at the concrete sidewalk, sliced between Clementine and Davison. He was at an intersection. Three choices; left or right, or across the street.
Not for the first time Erynn wished he had useful elemental magic, like fire summoning. Even a small flame would have been better than nothing. He’d still been wearing his coat when he came inside the hotel, and he hadn’t taken it off when he went back outside, so now he huddled in it, glad of that at least. Yesterday he’d moved slowly under his load and tiredness. Today urgency lent a quickness to his feet, for if he stopped moving he would freeze. He wasn’t sure what he could do other than keep moving. Maybe if he kept going, he wouldn’t get hypothermia.
The sidewalks looked dirtier than they had yesterday under the gleam of neon lights. Trash festooned their lengths, and rancid smells rose from the gutter. Erynn had to hold back a cough as he passed by pungent carrion, a new smell to him. He hadn’t realized how much refuse Aecora was built on. The city of the people? The city of garbage was a better name. All he’d seen so far was garbage, garbage and the false promise of something better. Where was that new life he’d expected? Erynn rooted around his pockets, turning them out. All he had was two coins, a chewing gum wrapper, and his useless card. Erynn smiled at the little piece of plastic caught between his fingers. Right. Only his first night away from home, and father had cut him off from their money. Though it wasn’t even their money, it was his money. A useless tactic. Robbed on his first day, and now he couldn’t return home even if he had wanted to.
Erynn shrugged the thought away and peered down the paths again. He moved off down Clementine Street, hoping his luck would change enough for him to eat. His stomach felt hollow with hunger; he’d never gone so long without a meal before. The air soon acquired a salty tinge that tickled his nose. The buildings were tapering off, the sound of water lapping against a wall swished. Erynn approached with halting steps, leaning over the wall to look down.
The water was calm, and a murky green-brown that he wouldn’t have wanted to swim in. Beneath the surface, muddy shapes flitted between clumps of algae. He looked up and squinted. It seemed like there were buildings in the distance, a stretch of land. He couldn’t tell if that was what it really was or if he was just dreaming. Shaking his head, Erynn chuckled and pulled away from the edge. If there was a phantom land across the way it didn’t matter to him, because he’d never get there anyway. It wasn’t like everything he’d dreamed of could be achieved. He’d been so naive, so optimistic. Now he would starve to death in an unfamiliar place, far enough away from anyone he cared about that they wouldn’t know he was gone until it was too late for him. Aecora was the city of the people, it was the city of strangers. Now he was one of those strangers. Would he even recognize himself if he did survive?
The thought was sobering, but Erynn didn’t need any more sober thoughts. He found refuge under a trashcan and slid down, stretching his aching feet out. The trashcan was as cold as everything else here, but his feet burned a little less. Erynn slid off his jacket, spreading it on his knees like a blanket. Then he rolled up his sweater sleeves and the sleeves of the thin shirt underneath. He examined the inside of his arms. Scars, some of them fresh and scabbing, others white with age, lined his skin. Erynn reached for his pocketknife, his hand closing over air. He growled. The nail on his thumb was longer than the others, and he dragged it over the old scar hard. Pain tore through him, sweet pain that crystallized his thoughts. He held up his arm, watching the scarlet lines drip down his elbow. For a moment he wanted to laugh, then he pressed his arm to his chest while a wave of revulsion just as painful rocked him.
He had to do it, he thought. It was the one thing he could control, he thought. Erynn rolled down his sleeves, feeling the blood dry on his skin, and imagined that throughout time millions of people had done what he’d just done. That done he took a steadying breath, calm swirling through him for the first time in days. He looked at his shoes, which were sturdy boots, and was glad at least that those were on his feet. It wasn’t every day that one went out into the world alone. Silently he thanked the thief for not taking his boots when they had a chance. He got up, pushing off the wall, and walked away. He walked until the smell of cooking hot dogs wafted toward his nose from a vendor.
On a street corner, the vendor had a cart with a menu taped to it and pictures of the foods. Behind the cart he poked at the grilling hot dogs with a barbecue fork. A pair of tourists ordered some pretzels, which he gave to them, sprinkling large pieces of salt over it. Erynn was next.
“One hot dog please,” he said, avoiding the vendor’s eyes.
“Two ninety five,” the vendor grunted. He handed Erynn a damp bag.
Clutching it to his chest, Erynn handed him the change he’d scrounged up. Before the vendor could protest that there was only forty cents here, and what game was he trying to pull? Erynn had fled.
Erynn ducked past cars that blared their horns, dashing into an alleyway and running until he couldn’t hear the echoes of the vendor’s shouts. He stopped and hunkered down on a stone ledge, unwrapping his precious cargo. It was cold and sticky, the bun soggy, but he scarfed it down like nothing had tasted so good. Afterwards he licked his fingers clean, savoring the fleeting richness. Erynn balled up his jacket and used it as a pillow, resting there as the day passed. He let it go by without complaint, too weary to rise from his place though the chilly stone burned into his back. Eventually he stirred and tried to sit up, but he’d frozen into the position and all he succeeded in doing was falling off the ledge. With a yelp, he teetered and plunged to the sidewalk, smashing his nose against the concrete.
Erynn huddled against a wall and cradled his nose, biting back a cry. Blood coursed through the cracks in his fingers. It felt like bone had shattered, and splinters of pain rolled through him. He stilled, his eyes growing glassy from shock. The passersby ignored him. They shuffled on their way, cognizant perhaps of his presence among them, but stepping around him like he was invisible. A pile of refuse. Nothing.
Holding his nose and trying to push back the hot tears that dripped down his face, Erynn remembered that two days ago he’d been the son of a surgeon and veterinarian, with a sister and an ordinary school life. It had all slipped through his fingers.
That night he was too hungry to sleep, so instead he took refuge under an awning and imagined a feast. He could taste the roast sausage and gravy, the grapes and bread and poundcake quivering with sugar. The hand that shook him awake minutes or hours later looked first like a drumstick before reality clicked in his mind.
Erynn sprang away, crashing into barrels in his haste. He snarled and lifted his fists, an impression of strength countered by the way he swayed on his feet, even propped up against a wall.
“Hey!” The hand belonged to a tall man, tattooed and muscular, who’s mouth twitched into a leer. “Slow down kid, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“M’not a kid,” Erynn mumbled, taking a swaying step toward the man and stumbling over air. His head suddenly ached, and he let himself sink to the ground as the world swun and dimmed.
The man cocked his head. “I’m no expert, but you look sick. Normally I wouldn’t care-” he explained “-but I need someone young. You’re big, though you’re what, fourteen?”
“Fifteen,” Erynn answered, too tired to lie. “I’ll be sixteen in a few months though,” he added.
“Ha! Perfect!” The man barked a laugh. “Take this. Run it to the warehouse at the end of the street, and I’ll get you a hot meal. Deal?”
Erynn looked at the man, at the tip of a pistol sticking out of his pocket, and nodded. A small package was pushed into his hands. Erynn slipped the package under his sweater and set off in the direction the man pointed him towards. The street wasn’t long, but even with the streetlamps it was dark and hard to navigate the bumps in the concrete, at least in the state he was in.
Somehow every step he took made his legs ache more, and jostled his nose. He kept his head down, careful to step around any obstacles like cans or cracks that appeared in his path. He wasn’t sure where he was anymore; the city had gotten dirtier, darker. It felt larger and meaner. A breeze blew across his back with the bite of winter, pushing him forward. Mercifully Erynn didn’t stumble. He bumped up against the warehouse, hitting his shins. Blinking, Erynn rubbed at his legs, looking up at the building in his way. It was old, made from faded brick with a decaying sign hanging over the entrance. The entrance was boarded up with planks, and a large red x was sprayed painted on the wood.
The man hadn’t given Erynn any more instructions than to go here. He sat on the steps and watched cars pass by. He didn’t see two shapes detach themselves from the side of the warehouse, approaching him.
One of them, dressed in black, grabbed Erynn by his sweater and shook him. “I don’t recognize you,” he hissed, his breath hot on Erynn’s face.
Erynn spat in his eye and the thug dropped him.
“Cool it, Hell-Cat!” The other thug whapped his friend in the arm.
“But this punk’s on our turf.” Hell-Cat scowled at Erynn, who bared his teeth back at him.
“Does he look like a threat?” the second thug asked. Both thugs turned to him, appraising him with eyes that gleamed like an animal’s.
“Nah, he just looks hungry,” Hell-Cat finally muttered. He sighed. “Rat, what’re you doing here? Don’t you know it’s dangerous?”
Erynn forgot about the package as blind fury overtook him. “Not a rat,” he said, filling each word with poison. Erynn lifted his chin and glared. The look he gave Hell-Cat would have curdled milk.
“Every kid’s a rat until they prove themselves,” the unnamed thug said. “Everyone knows this spot’s ours. That means you’re either new around here, or you’re stupid. Which is it?”
Erynn trembled with rage. No one had ever spoken to him this way before. He expected some modicum of respect, even if he was young and untried. “New,” he spat. His memory came back to him then. Wary eyes on the two men, Erynn fished around in his sweater until he found the package. “This is for you I think.” He held it out.
“So he is a Rat!” Hell-Cat said, grinning.
The other thug took the package. “New shipment, just what we needed. Who sent you?”
Erynn shrugged. “Donno. He said I’d get food if I delivered that.”
“What do you think, Noir?” Hell-Cat muttered, glancing at his friend. “Was it the Boss?”
The thug nodded. He looked quizzical. “Seems a bit low to use hungry strays.”
Erynn opened his mouth to say that he wasn’t a stray, but closed it. There was no evidence that he had a family anymore. It startled him to realize that all over again.
Hell-Cat shrugged. “You know how the Boss is. He enjoys his little games.”
Grimacing, Noir took a crumbled bill out of his pocket. “Here you go. This should cover dinner.” He handed the bill to Erynn. “And if anyone gives you trouble, say you’re with the Laohu. They’ll understand.”
Erynn hesitated. In his bones he felt that if he took the money, there was no going back. Except he didn’t know where he was heading towards. He remembered the stories his father used to tell him of what happened to people who accepted food from fairies; there wasn’t a trace of fae around these men, but it felt the same anyway. Erynn closed his hand over the paper. It wasn’t like he had a choice. He muttered thanks to both the men, and trotted off down the street. Even in such an unfamiliar place there had to be food somewhere. The tight knots in his stomach (fear and hunger?) uncoiled a little as he clenched the money tightly in his fist. Somehow, things looked brighter. At least they seemed less dark.
Once there was some distance between him and the warehouse Erynn stopped, smoothing out the bill. His eyes widened. It was fifty dollars: enough for two meals if he was careful, maybe even three.
“Ha.” He chuckled, and his lips curled into a small smile. “Not bad…”
Nothing was open except a twenty four hour drugstore. Erynn bought a bag and filled it with two big bottled waters, snack bags, toothpaste and a toothbrush, floss. The cashier hadn’t looked twice at him, bundled up in his coat, a knit hat with the price tag hanging from it jammed over his ears. He triumphantly handed the fifty dollar bill to her, but she didn’t acknowledge his luck in earning that much money for such a simple task. The cashier glared at him over her register as she swiped items through the scanner. She looked like she wanted to point out the sign displayed on the register, that bills of no more than twenty dollars would be accepted by the store. She didn’t, sensing that Erynn wasn’t in a position to provide her with anything more substantial. She took her time with the scanner as his punishment.
When she told him that he needed thirteen dollars and forty seven cents to pay for everything he told her to go to hell, and grabbing the bag stuffed with his bounty, he ran out of the store. The exhilaration of his crime filled his veins, and Erynn laughed as he ran, the bag piled high and balanced in his arms.
The city would see him. They would learn that he was more than a footnote, more than just a child. Erynn ran until he smacked against something hard. The bag fell out of his arms, everything spilling onto the concrete. Swallowing, he knelt to gather his supplies up. A hand came down on his shoulder.
“This is Hurving, I have the suspect for the robbery called in on Thirty First Street,” an officer said into his walkie-talkie. “Taking him to the station now.” The officer tightened his grip on Erynn’s shoulder, pulling him to his feet and spinning him around. A pair of handcuffs were clipped onto his wrists, while Erynn protested.
“It wasn’t me! I’m not a thief, I swear.”
The officer snorted. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. If I were you, I’d stay quiet.”
Erynn subsided into sullen silence, and let himself be maneuvered into the officer’s cruiser. He’d never seen the inside of a police car before, much less been shackled to it. It looked like a normal car, except for the grating in the back that separated him from the officer. The officer was talking into his car radio and ignored Erynn for the ride, which was long enough for his panic to mount. At the station, they would figure out who he was. His parents must have submitted a missing person report by now. The police would send him home.
Part of him was tired. He’d had to struggle so much these past days, more than he’d ever struggled in a lifetime. But he had left home for a reason, and no matter what happened, he didn’t want to go back. They couldn’t send him back, he wouldn’t let them.
At the station, the officer let him out of the cruiser. Erynn was cuffed to a bench with others who’d been picked up that night while the officer talked with someone at the desk. Besides him, there was a heavyset man with tattoos on his face, a young woman with wandering eyes who giggled to herself, and another man that sat silent and stiff. There was something about the set of his jaw and the casual way he leaned back against the bench that frightened Erynn. Like he’d been here before, and would be here again.
The officer returned to Erynn eventually with another officer by his side. This other officer flicked his eyes over Erynn and sighed. “This is the thief?”
The officer nodded. “Caught him with a whole bag of stolen items. He matched the description physically too.”
The second officer turned to Erynn. “If you have anything on you, I’ll be needing that.”
Erynn shook his head. All he had was his jacket and sweater.
“Right.” The officer wrote something down on a clipboard. “Got anything to report? Anything we should be aware of?”
Unwavering, he looked the officer in the eye. “No.”
They made him look into a camera and snapped a picture of him; he stared into the camera with his angry eyes, chin tilted back and a scowl on his face. Later they would look at the photo and see his resentment. They wouldn’t see the sorrow of it, couldn’t know the path he’d be set on.
He was searched, his fingerprints were taken, and interviewed. It was a short interview, as everyone agreed to his guilt. Erynn didn’t deny it again. There wasn’t any point, especially since it was true. They had uncuffed him at the beginning and he wasn’t cuffed again when he was shoved into the cell.
The man Erynn had noticed earlier was in the cell too. He sat with his head against the wall and his eyes closed, but he reclined like a predator, as if a moment was all he needed to spring up and on his prey. Erynn suppressed a shudder as the man opened his eyes and cold black orbs contemplated him, running up and down as though Erynn was some sort of creature.
A few hours went by before the station door opened, a man in a long coat swaggering inside.
“Zhang,” the officer at the desk growled, eyes snapping with anger.
“McPherson.” The man saluted him with a lazy gesture of his hand.
Erynn pricked up, straining to see the man better. His voice sounded familiar.
“I suppose you’ve come to bail him out again. What is it, the third time this month?”
The man shrugged. “What can I say, Razor’s a mean drunk.”
The officer grumbled, but accepted the envelope. He opened the cell door, gesturing to the man against the wall, who’d closed his eyes again and hadn’t stirred when the door opened. “You. You’re free to go...again.”
The frightening man opened his eyes, staring cooly at Zhang. “You’re late,” he said.
Zhang approached, grinning, and Erynn realized where he recognized him from. He was the thug who’d given him money. Erynn pushed himself deeper into the shadows, turning his head away. He wouldn’t be seen if he kept his head down.
“Hey Rat,” a voice murmured. “That didn’t take long.” Zhang had his face pushed up against the bars above Erynn, and looked down at him with something like humor. Regret.
Erynn didn’t reply. He hunched his shoulders, staring at the floor.
Zhang turned to the officer. “What’s the bail for the kid?”
“Bail? He hasn’t even been charged yet!” the officer said.
“What was it, petty theft? That can’t be more than one hundred.”
The officer’s face reddened. “He stole over ten dollars worth of items. And he’s a minor, I can’t just give him to you!”
“But you will.” Zhang leaned back, his grin stretching until it looked more like he was bearing his teeth then smiling. “You can either take the money, or you can talk to the Boss. The choice is yours, McPherson.”
The color drained from the officer’s face. He held the door open wider, beckoning to Erynn.
Erynn looked from him to the thugs. He stood up, leaving the cell with halting steps. They’d given him something to eat when he got to the station, so his head was clearer now. Clear enough for him to be afraid. How did he know they wouldn’t jump him as soon as he left with them? They could do anything they wanted to him.
“Come on, we don’t bite.” Zhang patted him on the back, guiding him out into the night air. Soon it would be morning again. Had it really only been three days here?
“I bite,” Razor said, and smiled like a wolf. Standing, he was taller than Erynn had expected. He filled the space, blotting out the light from the streetlamps with his frame. When he took a step toward Erynn the movement was fluid and heavy at the same time, and the smile had turned to a leer.
Zhang gripped Razor’s shoulder. “Stop scaring the Rat, he’ll get the wrong idea about us.”
Reluctantly, Razor let himself be dragged to a halt. “I wasn’t gonna do nothing,” he muttered. “Just rough ‘im up a little.”
Zhang turned to Erynn, still holding onto the thug. “Forgive Razor his manners. He’s harmless as a butterfly once you get to know him, but he has a mean streak as tall as he is.”
Razor pulled away from Zhang, settling behind him and crossing his arms. Zhang was dwarfed by the big thug, but if he’d told Razor to jump off a bridge, Erynn thought that Razor would.
Erynn felt another prickling of fear. He shook it off, straightening up and rolling back his shoulders. He wouldn’t let them see he was afraid. They had done him a good turn, and now he had to repay them for it. “Is there...anything I can do? For all your help?” He had to force the words out, trying not to spit them. It pained him that he’d gotten charity from strangers. His parents had taught him to be proud but he’d been too hungry to object, and part of him regretted that.
Zhang raised an eyebrow. “What can you do for us?” He chuckled. “You planning on sticking around here, Rat?”
Erynn shrugged. “Don’t have anywhere else to go.” The lie slid off his tongue with ease.
“A hungry stray indeed,” Zhang murmured, too low for Erynn to hear. He raised his voice. “The Laohu don’t usually take in Rats.”
Erynn paused. Was he offering to let Erynn join? Erynn didn’t know what this shadowy Laohu even was. He looked at Razor and grimaced. Criminals, as far as he could tell. Criminals, but what choice did he have? Eventually the police or someone else would pick him off the street and learn who he was, or put him in foster care. Neither prospect appealed to Erynn.
He set his jaw. “I’m strong.”
“I doubt it.”
“I’m fast, once I learn my way around I’ll deliver things quick.”
“Rats that are quick on their toes are still Rats.”
Erynn squinted, thinking. “Any secrets, I’ll keep them forever. I’m close-lipped. Reliable too.”
“You clever?” Zhang leaned against a tree. “Inquisitive? Because the Boss doesn’t want people like that. If you’ve got something to say, could you keep it to yourself?”
They’d walked past the police station into an open park. Zhang didn’t seem to fear that anyone would come by. Razor lit a cigarette, kindling an orange glow with his lighter. There were two stars in the sky that the city lights hadn’t wiped away. They winked at Erynn, high above him in the brightening night. Erynn looked away from them and bit his lip.
“All I need is some food and a place to sleep,” he said.
Zhang took out a cigarette, and Razor leaned toward him with the lighter. He inhaled, then exhaled and released a puff of smoke that floated away, obscuring the two stars behind smog. “If you work for us, you can’t go back again,” he warned Erynn. “Wherever you came from, whoever you were before. None of that would matter anymore. To us you’d just be a Rat; you understand?”
“Yeah, I get it.” Erynn felt his fear slip away. It was still there, but something closer to excitement coursed through him. He’d gone to the city for a chance at something new. A different life. Now it stared him in the face, and he refused to look away.
“Right.” The tip of Zhang’s cigarette flared red as he puffed again. “Now that’s out of the way, a round of introductions. I’m Noir, he’s Razor. Forget any other names you’ve heard. Until the Boss lets you choose a new name, you’re Rat. Forget your old one.” He grinned. “Welcome to the Laohu.”