The Diminished

My face masked in a feigned, sweet smile, I fished the slip of paper out of my pocket and handed it over to the bald, pinch-faced man, his chapped skin red and peeling. His eyes lingered on the scratches Curlin had left on my cheek.

He scanned my ticket and his mouth twisted in a cruel smirk. “Temple worker, are you? Miss Obedience Violette Abernathy. Cabin 687. You’ll need to find E deck with the rest of the trash. Walk down there a ways, and take the staircase on the left down six flights. Follow the signs in the corridor from there.” His rough words grated on my nerves.

“Thank you, sir,” I said as politely as I could manage, heaving my bag over my shoulder.

“Where’s your twin, girl? Ought not get separated, even on the ship. It’s an easy place to get lost.” There was a dangerous glint in his pale eyes.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir.”

I started walking toward the staircase he’d pointed out. I knew where this conversation led.

“Where’s your twin, Obedience? Mayhap you need some help finding her?” His thin screech carried over the din of the ship and the ocean beneath us.

I continued striding across the deck and fled down the stairs as soon as I reached them. I’d have to be more careful. Some people could smell dimmys from a mile away and took special pleasure in torturing us. The scratches on my face didn’t make me any less conspicuous, either.

I shuddered, remembering Gil, a little towheaded boy who’d been left on the temple doorstep when he was maybe five years old. There was a note pinned to his sweater, explaining that his twin sister had died, and his parents couldn’t be burdened with a dimmy. It wasn’t unusual; dimmys were left on the temple steps all the time. Curlin and I used to take them under our wings a bit. Us being the dimmys who’d lived in the temple longest, we knew how to skirt the rules. Make things more comfortable.

Gil’d been practically silent during the day, but every night he’d shown up in our room, asking for a story before bed. One day, early in the spring, Gil hadn’t come back from an errand. The anchorites fussed for a night or two, but after that it was like they’d forgotten him. Sawny, Curlin and I had combed the streets for days, driven by some invisible force. None of us wanted to give up on him. He was too little to fend for himself, and too sweet. I’d finally found him, shivering in an alley, covered in burns and blisters, his arms and scalp cut to ribbons.

He’d never spoken another word, and soon after, he’d tried to set the temple ablaze. The Suzerain had forced all of us temple brats to watch his execution. Curlin, Sawny, Lily and I had stood there, shivering in the first snow of the fall, our tears cutting icy paths down our cheeks, as the Shriven hauled Gil onto the platform. One of the anchorites stood behind me, hands on either side of my head, so that I wouldn’t be able to look away when the Shriven hangman tightened the noose around his slim neck. That was the day we’d sworn, on our lives, that none of us would ever become one of them. We promised not to join the Shriven, and three of us kept that promise.

The people who’d targeted Gil hadn’t been dimmys, just cruel folks who knew a lot more about hate than love.

I followed the signs through a maze of corridors, looking for my cabin. Turning on to the final hall, 680–690, I saw a young man with dark brown skin that glowed under the hall’s sunlamps leaning against the doorjamb outside what looked to be my cabin. His shoulders were broad beneath his deep purple livery. Another of the ship’s crewmen, and likely as not, this one’d hold the same prejudices as the other. I stepped quickly back around the corner, hoping he’d not spotted me.

I didn’t know if I could manage to hide myself from the ship’s entire crew for the whole of the journey. It didn’t seem possible. I gritted my teeth and tried to push down the fear, anger and exhaustion that brought tears to my eyes. I’d hardly slept the night before, and the idea of dealing with another ignorant, aggressive idiot was almost too much.

Steady me, I thought, reaching out for Pru, and strode down the hall with every bit of confidence I could muster. The young sailor straightened when he saw me, drew his hands out of his pockets for a brief bow and watched me with clear, golden brown eyes.

“May I see your ticket, please?” he asked pleasantly. His voice was warm and carried a faint lilt I didn’t recognize.

“It’s already been checked,” I said. “And you’re blocking my way. Excuse me.” I tried to shoulder past him, but the young man was all lean, hard muscle, and my head barely came to his chest.

He very gently placed his hand on my shoulder and nudged me out of the door frame, which he now fully occupied. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m required to check the tickets of everyone who’s been assigned to this room.”

A cluster of middle-aged Denorian men dressed in beautifully dyed and intricately knitted wool whispered at the end of the hall. Their broods of children swirled like storm clouds at their feet. I eyed the young man standing between me and the cramped room lined with bunks. It was empty, thank all the gods. I didn’t think I could bear to have one more person witness this exchange.

The young man’s amber eyes refused to leave mine, not even to linger on the scratches on my cheek, and I was grateful to him for that small kindness. Heat crept into my cheeks, and I could’ve kicked myself for blushing. His wide mouth seemed unable to contain its smile, and with his high cheekbones and those eyes, he was easily one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen. It was a pity he was a sailor—a good-looking fellow like him could make a fair match in the city. He looked to be about the right age for marriage, perhaps five years older than me.

I glanced at the Denorians and weighed my options. The part of me that knew better than to cause a fuss outweighed the urge to run—though only because the young sailor had some of the longest legs I’d ever seen and would surely catch me before I made it back to the stairs.

I fished in my pocket and handed my ticket over. “See? 687. Now may I please pass?”

He studied the paper for a moment and handed it back to me. “Miss Abernathy, would you come with me, please?”

“Why? This is my room. Haven’t you got to check the other tickets?”

His jaw tensed and his voice softened, like he was talking to a frightened animal. “Your cabin assignment has been changed. If you’ll come with me, I’ll escort you to your new room.”

Alarms sounded in my head like the horns that blew each time some hovel in the End caught fire. I took a step back and my eyes flashed to either end of the hallway. This felt like a trap.

“I’m fine here. Promise,” I said.

“I must insist you come with me, Miss Abernathy.” He put a big hand on my shoulder, but I ducked out of his grip, thinking fast. He didn’t seem threatening, but I’d learned the hard way that looks were often deceiving. I didn’t trust anyone.

“I’d rather wait for my twin,” I lied. “Don’t want to get separated. It’s a big ship, you know.”

The young man leaned down close to me, careful not to touch me again, and whispered in my ear. “I know you’re traveling alone, and I think it’s for the best if we keep that knowledge as quiet as possible. Don’t you agree?”