“Good.”
Jiafu’s coin purse jingles in the breast pocket of my cloak. I cross my arms as I walk, in case of pickpockets. I’ve been in enough Up-Mountain cities to know the poor and the homeless perch on every corner, waiting to seize an opportunity in the form of an unwary shopper. Though Gomorrah has its share of petty crime, our thieves are less desperate, and no one would risk mugging and injuring a patron.
“There’s an apothecary symbol on that building over there,” Luca says, pointing to our left. A green cross hangs over the door.
The shutters on the top two floors are bolted closed, but the door is ajar, and an Open sign dangles from a rusted nail on the pane. The vendors outside the building sell produce and seeds, normal-looking stands run by normal-looking people. But the apothecary shop looms and casts a shadow onto the street, jagged like teeth from the broken thatches on its roof. Like a monster waiting to snatch you from behind.
“That looks like a good place to get murdered,” I say.
“It’s the only place we’ve found,” Luca says.
“Easy for you to say. You can’t die.”
“How about this? You wait out here. I’ll check it out and give it the all clear.”
While Luca slips inside, I inspect the apples at a nearby vendor. From far away, I didn’t notice their bruises and discoloration. I wouldn’t be surprised to find each of their cores eaten out by worms.
“You, Down-Mountain girl,” someone hisses to my left. An elderly woman crouches underneath the vendor’s stand, her skin sagged and hanging off her face, as if she’s shedding one layer at a time. “How dare you come to Cartona? We don’t need whores or thieves like you in our holy city. A disgrace.” Her voice trails on thessound. “After the death of the baby prince, the poor baby prince—”
“Excuse me,” I say to the vendor, “there’s a woman hiding beneath your stand.”
The man frowns and lifts the cloth over the table. “Bitch! What do you think you’re doing?” He kicks her, and she groans and crawls out from underneath. “I could call the officials and have you thrown into the Pit!” I take several steps back to get out of the way as the woman flees around the corner, reeking of sweat and piss.
The vendor turns his attention to me. “Would you like an apple? They are the freshest in the city. So juicy...” He lifts up a browned slice from a sample and holds it to my lips. “Take a bite. You will want to buy more.”
“No, thank you,” I say. “What did the woman mean? About the prince?”
“The crown prince died of pneumonia earlier this week. Ovren can be cruel even to the most innocent.” He looks over my clothes, which, though simple and unassuming, do not entirely match the white attire of everyone around me. My tights peek out from underneath. “You are not from here.” His eyes light up. “You’re a Gomorrah girl. I hear the Gomorrah girls will lay with a man for next to nothing.”
He grabs my hand and tightens his grip, even as I try to squirm away. “And you’re blind. You shouldn’t care. You aren’t worth as much as other girls.”
A scream rises in my throat, but that would only cause a scene. All that matters is buying Kahina’s medicine and leaving.
“I can see the blistering sunburn on your nose,” I say instead. “And your fat gut. And each of your nose hairs.” With one hand braced against the table, I push myself away from him and walk toward the apothecary, despite how decrepit it appears from the outside. The repugnant man continues to call after me, but I ignore him and duck into the shop.
Luca stands near one of the shelves. “It smells good in here. Like mint.”
I hug my arms to my chest. The homeless woman’s words about the prince echo in my head, and in an instant, I’ve switched from Sorina-with-Luca to regular Sorina, the one whose baby brother and uncle just died. The Sorina who knows her face makes her worth less than other girls.
“Are you all right?” Luca asks.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
“How can you tell? It’s not like my half face gives anything away.”
“Because your whole body is rigid and tense, and you usually walk as if you’re floating.”
I uncross my arms. I like the idea of floating high above everyone else, where no one can touch me. Does Luca really think I look like that? “I’d rather not talk about it,” I say truthfully. Venera can best remind me that I’m beautiful and worth ten times more than that man could ever dream of. Luca doesn’t need to hear about all my problems. Besides, I’d rather forget about it.
Luca doesn’t ask any more questions, but I can tell he wants to by the way he keeps glancing at me and frowning. He points to one of the shelves full of vials. “They have an impressive collection of poisons. I’m thinking of buying a few for my show.”
“Don’t you think it’s dangerous to play so many games with death?” I say.
“Not if I never lose.”
“What do you think that means for you? Will you just go on living...forever?”
