Page 103 of The Space Between Stars

She stood poised at the blue swinging doors to the Shrokan messenger station, fist raised. Chaos, she might even go so far as to say she liked Celestar, so why couldn’t she knock? Why not share more proprietary information and hope it didn’t come back to bite her? Why not bleed a little more dignity?

Attilatia sighed. In a world governed by Chaos, there were certain universal principles which remained resolute, invariable, and constant, and they offered her strength. Nothing would happen until something moved.

She rapped twice.

A husky voice drifted through the slats in the wood. “Come in”—a giggle—“I’m all alone.”

Attilatia pushed her way in. Celestar sat upon his stool, bottom spilling over its sides. His round face split into a brilliant smile. “Atti!”

She gave him a curt nod. “Celestar.”

“Who are you here to find?”

“You.”

“Oh, I’m not your type, darling… but maybe I could be.” Another giggle.

Attilatia pulled her oculars onto her forehead, squinting in the light from Celestar’s multitude of mismatched candles. “Much as you fill my heart with endless joy… No. I need information from your book.”

Addresses, names, trade records, tax records. Celestar kept it all, written in his perfect calligraphy, beneath the counter of the Shrokan messenger station. But he collected fees in the form of information, and he was as particular as an art collector in deeming its value. Sometimes he’d hold on to his secrets, no matter the notes presented. And sometimes he folded like a gladiolus in a tropical storm for cheap gossip.

“That being?” he asked.

“Tessel Velinquash. Oligarchy. Once affiliate Red Wing command. Where I find him?”

Celestar slipped off his stool and dove beneath the counter. He surfaced a moment later holding a tome so large, were it put to contest with the average nose, she was sure the tome would win. He slapped it onto the counter and thumbed through its pages until something made him stop and hum with excitement.

Attilatia leaned over the counter, but he snatched the tome away. “Ah ah ah. What do you have for me?”

Her mouth twisted. She’d been prepared for this, but now she wasn’t sure it would be enough. “I... I might be seeing someone.”

“Someone… interesting?”

Attilatia shrugged. “Depend who you ask, I suppose.”

Celestar’s eyes flitted to the ceiling. Chaos. Of course it wasn’t enough. He would need to know who, of course. And sharing that might be more dangerous than asking about the Shadewalker.

“Atti, Atti. I have always been so impressed with you. Powerful men. The most powerful. Making their big speeches and big decisions from their big, squishy armchairs. Pushing money and lives around.” He ran a long, manicured finger along the dirty countertop. “And you get them to give you everything you want. You see them naked and screaming.”

“Harness you enthusiasm. If I got what I want, I no keep coming back here because, I assure you, what I want is no to get fucked repeatedly.” She tilted her head. “At least, no by scum of patriarchy.”

Celestar waggled his tongue. “We both know I need a name.”

Attilatia tried not to let her disappointment show. She prepared her response. Ah. Well, I be leaving then, or the like. Something that wouldn’t reveal she had already searched for Velinquash everywhere and come up with less than she could pinch between her fingers.

“Or, alternatively, you could just tell me what you do want,” Celestar said.

She stared at him, lips parted, and for a moment she saw the warm, beating heart that sometimes protruded from behind Celestar’s mask of enigma and flirtation. That was a quality trade: asking her what she wanted in exchange for what she needed.

The answer came unbidden. “Freedom.”

Few things came free, and freedom the least of them.

Celestar closed his eyes. She thought she might have seen the ghost of a tear at the corner of his eye. “Freedom.”

He gave her a sad almost-smile. “Do you ever wish you were a man?”

What did that have to do with anything? She snorted. “While I might desire freedom that come with being man, it not worthy exchange for cock-mindedness or obstinacy.”