The rain seemed endless. Three days and nights it had gone on for, and it did not make people friendlier. Even my usual benefactors weren't feeling very benevolent. Egan, the local leatherworker, would normally let me strip and dry hides if he had any, but in this weather there wouldn't be much hunting, and even less drying of hides - the humidity putrefied them all.
Most of the inner city pathways were cobblestoned, but here, in the outer slums of the city, they were dirt - or in this case mud. I'd long ago lost any feeling in my toes, the cold rain seeping through the many cracks in the soles, when I made my way to the apothecary. With any luck, Marko would be there and not the owner. On occasion I managed to persuade Marko to give me chores to do - cleaning, sorting and labelling newly arrived herbs and compounds, discarding overdue ingredients. As long as I stayed out of sight of his customers and allowed him to squeeze my ass every time he passed me.
He wasn't the worst.
I reached the apothecary and went round the back. Before letting myself in I tried to make myself presentable. Squeezing the worst of the rainwater out of my hair and combing it back with my fingers and my dress followed suit, before I realised I wasn't making much of a difference. I practiced smiling.
I pushed against the heavy door and stepped into the back room of the apothecary. Someone had lit a fire in the hearth and a deep sigh of relief escaped me. I'd almost forgotten what warmth felt like. We didn't have much of a fire at home.
My relief lasted only a few seconds, and before I could take more than a few steps towards the hearth, the apotheker Denis had entered the back room and his face turned red in anger.
"What the devil are you doing here?!" he spluttered, second chin wagging with every syllable. "Get out, witch! And don't let me find you here again!"
He took a broom from the corner next to the hearth and started swatting it at me. I don't think he would have actually hit me, but he made his point, and I made my exit. The rain felt colder after the fire in the hearth. I looked at my worn old boots as the stepped from puddle to puddle, wondering if today was the day I would finally fail.
There was only one place left to go. One place, before I'd have to resort to my worst nightmare again. I wrapped my arms around myself and dragged my feet to the Warrior's Valor Tavern.
It was quiet inside. I stood dripping in the doorway for a moment, getting my bearings in the semi-dark room, when a couple of the few present occupants started shouting at me to close the door. I hurried inside, looking for the owner.
Ettron, or Ed, was one of the very few people who didn't pretend like they had never known me before the 'incident' happened. He had been a friend of my father's, and my mother had once cured him of purple fever.
"Hey El," he said, spotting me before I spotted him. "Shit weather, ain't it."
I nodded, approaching the end of the c-shaped bar where he was polishing some glasses. "No luck with work terday, eh?"
"That obvious, huh?" I said. Ed shrugged. "Ya jus look like ya've been wandering 'round town awhile, dassal."
"You gotta give me something, Ed," I said, trying to keep the note of desperation out of my voice. "Look, I could clean - I could cook --"
"There ain't nothin' ter do," said Ed, shaking his head. "I got no more 'n ten people in here terday. Yer looking at eight of 'em here. I had ter send Mel home too, people ain't going out in this weather."
I bit hard on the inside of my mouth, trying to keep my shit together. "Please, Ed," I said quietly. I hated having to beg, but I'd come to the point where I had no choice anymore. "Please. I'll do anything, anything you want. Just don't make me go back to the Peach."
Ed raised his eyebrows and looked me up and down. "Doubt even the Randy Peach'd take ya honey, lookin' like that."
That was one strike too many, and the tears blended with the rainwater on my face. Even as Ed started apologising, I had already turned my back to him and fled back into the rain.
