Page 2 of The Duplicity of Thieves

I catch sight of a shadow of a soul before it flits to the side, trying to evade me. It emits an ear-splitting screech and more answer, but I don’t stop my pursuit. A jarring silence descends over the forest. Instead of curing me of my fear, the quiet replaces it with the ominous feeling of complete and total loneliness. My gasps beg for mercy, and my knees threaten to buckle from exhaustion.

The low branches of the trees slash me across the face, and thorny bushes shred my legs, but I welcome the pain. Although my breath ceases to exist, and my essence evaporates from my body, my legs still carry me, bloody and bruised. I catch sight of the creature as it darts between two trees.

I leap, and my stomach lurches in a free fall. When I smack a pool of water, I wonder if perpetual drowning will be my personal hell. I writhe and thrash in pain. When I still, the world fading away, I hear someone call out my name. Josephine. Josie. J…

Part I

One for the Night

Chapter one

Josephine

I wake in a panic, dripping in sweat. Another nightmare. Outside, the moon has barely moved since I closed my eyes. Thank the Universe. I must have fallen asleep. With a careful breath, I swing my legs over the side of the creaky mattress.

Quietly, I pull open my bedroom door, wincing when the hinges give the slightest squeak. No one makes a sound. I swivel my head back and forth checking to see if the coast is clear. Once I’ve determined it’s safe, I tiptoe through the house until I make it to the front door. Grabbing my boots, I make a run for it, hopping on each foot as I pull them on. I dart across the field and wade through the tall grass, keeping low so no one sees me.

I stop to catch my breath when I reach the trees on the edge of the forest. I’m a grown woman, but somehow sneaking out at night makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong. By the design of my family, I almost never have a moment alone.

With a sigh of relief, I turn to the path and press on further into the woods. I can’t go through the village, or someone will see me. The path that leads out of my homeland, the Remnant Republic, happens to pass the scene of my almost drowning. Li Pá o Lethe —the most likely source of my constant nightmares—translates into the Pool of Forgetfulness. They say anyone who drinks is cursed. To what? I’m not sure, but if you ask me, it’s a life of wishing you maybe fucking didn’t. It's a life of secrecy and paranoia. It’s a life where you spend all your free time wondering why you would subject yourself to this.

When I woke from my near death, I had no memory. No point of reference for who I am. Only skin covered in fresh symbolled scars and my name, Josephine. Even that could be bullshit. According to Kate, Killian was passing by that night on an errand and found me on the shore, then he took me back to her. Kate took me in and gave me a home and a family.

Kate has always been kind, unapologetic, and a little odd. Although she’s kind of crazy, she’s respected by our community. She has sacrificed a lot for the people of the Republic and given back more than she has. If someone needs medical care, they come to her, and she makes them a tonic or a salve.

Kate’s best friend died of disease about a year before they rescued me. Her daughter, Vivian, moved in with the two of them. When I was recovering from my accident, she was my lifeline to the outside world. I didn’t have to hide myself from her, or tell lies about where I came from. To anyone else I would have been a curse, but to her, I’m her sister.

In the short time we spent together, we became bonded and decided we were long lost sisters who had been reconnected. Killian used to say it was ridiculous and tease us, but he always had a smile hidden in the corners of his mouth. She’s the youngest by a couple of years, and the glue between us.

She was born a kind soul, and though she doesn’t offer up information about her mother, I wonder about the sort of person she must have been. Kate has said a few times that Vivian is the spitting image of her. She has deep tanned skin and dark brown ringlet curls with hazel eyes, and a smile that shines on you like the sun. She’s approachable and intelligent, even helping Kate with making tinctures sometimes.

Killian was abandoned as a little boy. He doesn’t remember anything, or if he does, he won’t talk about it. To him, this has always been his life. He sees Kate as his big sister, even if he’s a grown man bigger than the three of us. He saved my life, although sometimes I wish he hadn’t.

I try to avoid thinking about him. The way his orange eyes used to catch mine when Kate was saying something crazy. When we would argue and he would give me a crooked smile and look at me over his nose with his eyes crinkling at the corners. We used to be inseparable. Now I’ll do anything to get away just for a little while so I’m not so fucking suffocated with everyone’s expectations.

He has always taken the brunt of Kate’s wrath when I do something stupid, but I can tell he’s sick of it. Those orange eyes will glare at me in frustration instead of guilty approval, and it makes my stomach twist in knots. I don’t want him to ruin my night.

Ahead, the calm black water encircled by black sand glimmers. The people in my village stay away from here, so I know I’m alone. It would probably unnerve everyone else, but I like it. This place, especially at night, is the only time I’m free of expectations.

I kick my boots off and sink my toes into the sticky sand, telling myself I deserve a moment of reflection before I go meet up with my friend, Clo, at a pub on the edge of the territory. I do it every time I come this way, hoping that somehow I can make the water speak to me. It never does. It’s as silent as my memory.

“Do you wish you could remember?” Vivian had asked me once.

I still don’t know the answer. When I’m sitting here reflecting, I always wonder how I ended up in the Lethe in the first place. Was I trying to die? Drowning seems like a shitty and dramatic way to go. It’s not even guaranteed. Was I trying to forget something? I can’t imagine what would be so horrible that I would have wanted to forget it, but I guess only I could be the judge of that.

The strange, scarred symbols that cover my body are white against my skin. They wrap themselves around me, crawling up my hip across my breasts, over my right shoulder onto my back, and clawing their way down my arm. It’s the evidence left behind of my old life. They’re ugly and nonsensical. Did I put them there myself? Did someone do it for me? I suppose they are questions I will never know the answers to.

When I first started venturing into the village, Kate took me aside and told me I should cover them up. She insisted on it. We had no idea where I had come from or why. Someone could be looking for me, and that wasn’t something I wanted to face. I live in a constant state of paranoia. Out of habit, I pull at the neck of my long sleeve making sure they’re hidden.

In Kate and Killian’s eyes, danger lurks around every corner, and even though I try to push those thoughts from my mind, I can’t. My eyes sweep along the tree line looking for movement. Nothing. I sigh with frustration. Mostly at the stupid water.

Vivian would be disappointed if she knew I was out here. She’s never judged me or made me feel like I’m less or different. She never really argues with me, but I can tell when she’s upset. She doesn’t understand what it’s like to have everyone constantly breathing down your neck concerned about every move you make. Kate and Killian have ingrained the possibility of danger so deeply within us that it stresses her out when I rebel.

With a loud sigh I dust off my feet, throw on my boots, and give Lethe a vulgar gesture before getting back on the trail. Another night of unanswered questions. I always expect something different. I’m great at disappointing myself.

When I spot the pub, Clo is waiting outside on the cobblestone street, and she’s already drunk. She flips her shoulder-length brown hair and giggles, chatting with some guy she met before I got here. She’s the only friend I’ve got outside of Killian and Vivian, and they hardly count.

The pub, Ody’s, is small, but it’s amazing how many people manage to squeeze inside on any given night. A melting pot of Underworld residents seem to find their way here. The burgundy walls are dirty with smoke, and filled with knick-knacks to the point of making you claustrophobic. Things even hang from the ceiling by wire. Patrons pour onto the street out of the little stone cottage, and music blares through the speakers.

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