A short pause then a sigh. “What the fuck,” the voice said, the tones clearer now. Lizanne was surprised to find it largely free of an accent, almost cultured in fact. “Bring her in. Never too late in the day for a good laugh, I always say.”
Anatol opened the door and stepped aside, gesturing for Lizanne to enter. “Hands in view at all times,” he warned as she passed by. The room was large and striking in its contrast to everything Lizanne had seen of Scorazin so far. A bookcase stood against the far wall and velvet drapes hung over the windows. An extensive mahogany desk sat in the centre of the room, behind which one of the largest women Lizanne had ever seen reclined in a leather armchair, her bare and impressively broad feet propped on the desk. She was leaning forward to run a metal rasp over the feet, grunting a little with the effort.
“Pardon me,” she apologised as Lizanne came to a halt before the desk. “I’m a martyr to me corns.”
Lizanne noted again the incongruity of her words and her accent. Like a countess speaking the words of a street-walker, she thought. She said nothing, keeping her hands at her sides and watching the large woman file powdered skin onto the desk. Lizanne put her age at somewhere past fifty, brows heavy and shoulders broad. She wore a sleeveless dress of violet-hued silk, the flesh on her arms wobbling as she went about her ablutions. Despite the excess weight Lizanne could see the innate strength in her, reckoning she might even pose a challenge to Anatol in a test of brute force.
“When did you get in?” the Electress asked, the rasp still filing away.
“A few hours ago.”
“A few hours, eh? And you’ve already managed to extract payment from the worst two shit-stains in the Furies. Impressive.” She turned to Anatol. “What’s she got?”
The huge man moved to the desk and placed the bundle before her along with the knife and the sap. The Electress groaned as she removed her feet from the desk and set the rasp aside before unwrapping the bundle. She took a moment to view the revealed contents in expressionless silence before raising her gaze to Lizanne. “One but not the other. Where’s Dralky?”
“He had a thicker neck,” Lizanne replied. “My arm got tired and it was getting late.”
“Then how do I know he’s not still out there somewhere?”
Lizanne turned to Anatol. “I need to reach into my clothing.”
He exchanged a glance with the Electress, who gave a nod of assent. “Slowly,” Anatol said.
Lizanne undid the first three buttons on her overalls then reached inside to undo the cloth she had wrapped around her midriff. Unlike Jemus, Dralky had possessed a full set of teeth, although about half had been fashioned from gold. The Electress gave a huff of satisfaction as Lizanne placed the teeth on the desk. “Was going to make him pull them out himself with pliers,” the Electress mused. “Or get him and Jemus to fight to the death. Hadn’t quite decided.”
She leaned back in her chair, keeping her eyes on Lizanne but speaking to Anatol. “Get her a seat. Then leave us alone.”
Lizanne tried not to enjoy the comfort of the padded leather chair as she sank onto it, the first time she had experienced the sensation since leaving Corvus.
“What’s your name?” the Electress asked.
“Krista.”
The large woman’s mouth twitched a little. “No it isn’t.”
“Melina said it didn’t matter.”
“Not for most of the new arrivals who fetch up on my door, but I’m sensing that you’re a special case.” She reached for a silver-plated box on the desk and extracted a cigarillo. “Get these from the guards,” she said, striking a match and lighting up. “One of several favours they do for me, ’cos of what I do for them. Wanna know what that is?”
“I would assume you bribe them,” Lizanne replied.
“I do.” Smoke billowed as the woman smiled. “And a greedy bunch of bastards they are, apart from Darkanis, but he still expects to wet his beak now and then. You’d be surprised how much an off-the-books sack of sulphur ore will sell for. But it’s not just that. I enjoy certain privileges because I understand the need to keep this place orderly, or as orderly as a place filled with the worst scum in the empire can be.”
She paused to turn the box towards Lizanne, raising a questioning eyebrow. “No thank you,” Lizanne declined.
“Worried I might have added something to the leaf?” the Electress asked.
“I try to avoid indulgence at times like these.”
The Electress rested her elbows on the desk, one hand on the other with the cigarillo smoking between her broad fingers. “What did you do on the outside?” she asked after a long pause. “And don’t try telling me you were a fucking governess or some such.”
“I stole things and I killed people.”
“For who?”
“Whoever paid me.”
“The Cadre ever pay you?”
Lizanne shook her head. “They couldn’t afford me. Besides, I doubt they’d find me a suitable recruit.”
A soft chuckle escaped the Electress as she took another draw on her cigarillo. “So that’s it. Another child of the revolution.”
“I’ll confess I suffered from some na?ve notions in my youth. I assure you any political allegiance is all behind me now. But the experience did leave me with a particular set of skills, skills I’m prepared to offer to you.”
“How generous of you. But you may have noticed that this is a prison. I want a thief or a killer I can throw a rock in any direction and find one.”
“Not like me you can’t.”
The Electress nodded at the grisly prize on the desk. Jemus’s head lay on its side, face towards Lizanne, a vestige of that final desperate smile frozen on his lips. “You think you’re the first to bring me some fucker’s head and demand a favour?”
“I’m not demanding anything,” Lizanne said. “Merely offering my services. If you find them unacceptable I’ll be happy to leave.”
“And offer yourself up to one of my rivals, no doubt. I assume you extracted a list of likely candidates from this bastard before you killed him.”
Lizanne said nothing, knowing confirmation would be taken as a threat. “I chose to come here,” she said instead.
The Electress gave Lizanne another long look of examination before shaking her head in consternation. “Got a lot going on behind those pretty eyes. More than I’d like. And, being honest, you’ll probably live longer as a whore. I treat my girls well.”
“I’m sure you do. But it’s not my line of work.”
The Electress shrugged and stubbed out her cigarillo. “You know how to deal Pastazch?”
“Corvus Twist and Varestian Draw-down.”
“We play our own rules here, Scorazin Two-roll. It’s basically the same as Corvus Twist with three more wild cards. I’m sure you’ll pick it up.”
“You want me to be a croupier?”
“For now. Since you’re so averse to mattress-work. Can’t have you just hanging around the place. People would talk.” She turned to the door, raising her voice, “Anatol! Find this bitch a room!”
CHAPTER 16
Clay