Page 3 of Born for Lace

I’m searching for a cut between buildings, a way outside the tower fort to the water when I see a pink mist ahead.

Right, that must be it.

The dockyards. It’s not forbidden for a Lace Girl to visit the docks. It’s just not done, because on the other side of these buildings is a gale, thick with sand and stone and salt that will carve my skin to ribbons. Common humans can’t withstand the pummelling air like the Xin De can. But I have my mask, my boots, and my jacket, and the baby is covered.

Maple insulated my clothes, and I often wondered why. I’ve never been anywhere, and unlike her, I have no desire to. So, when she illegally tradedLa Mu Rootto our Modistes Girl, Isle, to have my leather jacket and boots treated with armour, it seemed strange.

Was she planning on escaping, even back then? And taking me with her?

The day after I received my new coat, a Xin De man who often harassed Isle was found poisoned, and I knew what had happened to him. It was horrific. Isle appeared to be the model of her Trade. Loyal and committed to her Meaningful Purpose. When beneath the surface, she was different. She took a life with theLa Muthat gained me these protective clothes.

It makes me wonder how many people are unhappy. Or are so many wearing veils of perceived obedience, waiting for a moment or reason to tear the fabric down the centre.

The Half-tower rumbles around me with unrest. Without further thinking, I cross into the light and head down the crumbling passage.

I can see the air at the end; a whirlpool of pink and grey— the Redwind, collecting desert sand and debris. Once, I thought it beautiful, a dark pink hue like the salt lakes I’ve seen in picture books.

Today… Today the colour resembles white sheets stained with my favourite person’s blood.

As I approach the predatory Redwind, its roar intensifies, but it is the voice that cuts through the noise that sends a wave of fear through my body.

“She’s a Lace Girl.”

I freeze.

“She’ll have Opi.”

The deep voice grabs my spine while the word, Opi, twists it into a tightrope.

Slowly, I inch around to see two Xin De men approaching. They are dressed in the ominous thick navy Marshal Blue armour, clutching rifles.Officers.They followed me down the passage.

The baby…Oh.

Please be quiet.

Please be quiet.

My heart gallops as they advance, and I press my back to the building, uncertain what to say or do.

Run.

They share a glance, heavy with meaning, and then both sets of eyes lock on me.

“Think she’s high on the latex?” one asks, as if I can’t hear him.

He means Opi Latex. It’s common for a Lace Girl to become addicted when we consume it in our tea, but I’m not.

“Talk, girl,” the other commands, grabbing my Redwind-mask and pulling it below my chin. “Are you alright? Whatcha doin down here alone without your Ward? Don’t you realise the Half-tower is under heavy restrictions now?”

“Are you a mute?” The one on the right presses his hand to the wall beside my head, leaning toward me. He smells gamey, kind of like blood. Has he been hunting in his blue leathers?

Hunting what? We are a fishing tower…Oh, it’s Common blood.

I swallow as both hover over me, nearly seven-foot-tall dual pillars of authority. They are huge, like all evolved ones are. And arrogant, I’m sure. As is the mindset of a species physically far superior to Common humans like me.

Mute…

I quickly nod my head.

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