For once, Wendy wasn't wearing blue. She was wearing a pink frock she'd stolen from one of the rooms she cleaned. It didn't go well against her skin, and now she was looking paler than usual. She practically faded against the colour of the dress. Instead of her usual sensible shoes she was wearing thick boots-- also stolen, and a green coat with a hood that she was currently using. She kept touching her arm nervously, as if afraid her sleeve would snake up and reveal her to the world.

What am I doing? she thought for the umpteenth time. And then, that thought's brother, What did I do?

Killed a man.

Her lips tightened and her chin jutted out angrily. No. She didn't care. She wasn't sorry. That boy had killed Pascual. Just thinking it made her tear ducts start again and she wiped at her eyes hastily. This dress was making her hot, and she could barely move. And I thought that I wouldn't ever miss that stupid maid's uniform.

But that uniform had been built in a sensible way. It was made for easy movement, and to keep the servants cool. This thing she wore now...had ruffles...and a slip. And the boots were not helping.

It doesn't help that I stole a man's boots...then again it was either those or the ones with the heels. Which were out of the question. How anyone could think to walk in those...

Wendy moved to adjust the dress, trying to be inconspicuous about it and failing miserably. The first thing I'll do when I...when I...find my way...is get myself a sensible dress...That isn't blue or pink.

She carefully opened the door and edged her way into the bakery, keeping to the back so that she was out of the way of any customers.

I'll just have to wait until it's less busy... She thought to herself in a light tone.

Oh Alioe...who am I fooling. I'll be caught and get Rosie killed...But...but what else can I do?

Rosie looked up from serving one of her regulars and did a double take. Had Crazy Mildred made her way into the store again? Surely not, the woman was being cared for by her sister, or so she'd thought. A moment's scrutiny brought the hidden features forward and Rosie realised she was looking at Wendy.

"Venadi!" Rosie cried, gesturing madly at Wendy, "I need you out back!"

She raised the wooden board that allowed passage in and out of the bakery.

Wendy jumped and looked around to make sure Rosie wasn't talking to anyone else before hurrying to the back of the bakery.

"Venadi?" she murmured to the woman with a curious smile.

She was quiet for a moment, and then took a deep breath. "I need to talk to you. In private...are-- are you very busy right now? It can wait."

Rosie popped a bun into Wendy's hand.

"Oh Venadi, you pick the worst times to come in. Give me twenty minutes, sister and I will come tend to you." Rosie showed Wendy the way out back.

"I'll be back after the morning regulars leave, won't take long." She whispered, before running out again.

The back of Rosie's shop was lived in but clean. There were baking racks and sacks of flour, sugar and other staples. In the corner there was a small table with three chairs. A small rose was sitting in a vase atop the table, on the verge of blooming.

Rosie bustled back in after a time.

"What happened? Did you break out?" She whispered, excited and scared out of her wits.

"Yes, of course." Wendy said in a regular voice, biting into the roll to keep herself from dropping it. She was ushered into the back room where she sat down and stared at the without seeing it. She didn't notice that she still hadn't taken the bread out of her mouth until later, and pulled it out. She couldn't eat. She wasn't hungry. Her nerves were fizzing and she chewed on her lip absently.

Wendy's eyes grazed the rose and she smiled. Like Rosie. Quiet. Beautiful.

Discreet.



Wendy started and stared at Rosie, "I-- I-- Oh Alioe! Rosie I understand if you never want to speak to me again after I tell you this-- I killed him! I killed that man-- boy!"

The passive wrung her hands and got up to pace, "I don't even feel sorry. He...he deserved what he got. Rosie you should have seen him! He came to apologize but he doesn't deserve forgiveness and I-- he wouldn't leave even after I told him that I would kill him! He wouldn't leave! And then I--"

Her hand went over her mouth and she looked down at her shoes guiltily, "I'm going to be caught. I'm going to be caught and you're going to be caught and the seventen will kill us! I-- I don't know what I'm doing. I'm so tired! Rosie, I haven't slept in four days and now this!"

Tears of helpless exhaustion crawled down her cheeks, "I'm just so used to running to you when I have things on my mind that I didn't even think. I just-- I just took some clothes from a room where I knew the people weren't occupying, and left. They'll-- I-- I shouldn't have come here!"

Wendy sat down and put her head in her hands, trying to calm herself. She wasn't used to showing how she felt around other people. "If...if you want me to leave I'll understand. I killed that boy, and I ran away, and stole this horrible ugly dress." As if that's what put me over the edge! Wendy thought bitterly, but it was as if her mind could only concentrate on the small things.

Rosie blanched at Wendy's confession.

"K-killed!" She gasped, the thought of taking someone's life filling her with horror. "Wendy, please, calm down."

Rosie sat in front of her, reaching out to clasp Wendy's hands in her own.

"Tell me, in short sentences, what happened?" Rosie looked afraid, ready to help out the girl she had become fond of but fearing the consequences. "Who did you kill? Why?"

"Bronley!" Wendy wailed miserably. "I killed Bronley because he killed Pascual!"

She wiped at her eyes furiously, sniffing. "He c-came to me because he w-wanted to apologize and I told him to go clock hims-self in so many words. And then he wanted to s-serve me and I got so angry. What would he know about servitude? He killed my best friend right in front of me! And I kept-- I kept thinking it was another trap. That he just-- That he just wanted to trick me into hitting him. T-to finish us both off!"

More tears. More anguish. More fear.

"So that he could forget. And I k-kicked his face and then I couldn't stop and I just kept going and g-gods! I j-just left him there. I wasn't even thinking. I left him th-there and I went to go s-steal some shoes because mine w-were bloody and then the clothes were right there and I just thought they'll kill me so I wrote a n-note to Vala and left!"

Even after telling Rosie all of this, Wendy didn't feel better. She felt worse. Putting what she'd done into words...it had been alright when it had been just her and her feelings and the boy... but when you said it out loud, it was that much worse.

I'm not sorry! I'm not! He killed Pascual!

"I just wasn't thinking! G-gods! I killed a galdor!" Her hand went to cover her mouth and she pressed it to her tightly, as if only now the consequences of what she'd done had occurred to her.

Rosie was horrifed and out of her depth but part of her was brazened by Wendy's confession. She'd almost never considered it before, that a passive could kill a galdor. The passives and the humans... They were all pushed so far and given nothing in return.

Everyone deserved to live but she wasn't sure she cared that this Bronley was dead.

"We can work it out." She soothed, making shushing noises. "We need to keep you out of sight. We'll work out the rest later. Do you think anyone saw you leave? Did anyone see you come here?"

It would look suspicious if she closed the shop for even an hour.

"Deep breaths, I can hide you. We just need to think of whether anyone could trace you here."

"N-No! I don't think so. I left quickly and I wasn't c-crying or making a scene then."



"V-vala could she knows this place. And s-some of my other friends." Wendy moaned, sniffing. "What if they come looking for me?! M-my disguise wasn't even that good! Look at me! I c-couldn't fool a hingle!"

Rosie took a deep breath in through her nose, then let it out again.

"It's dark out, it's likely that no one saw you. I can get you some clothes today, they'll be loose fitting but we can synch them in with a belt or some quick stitching." Rosie walked over to the middle of the floor, lifting up a tatty rug to reveal the entrance to a basement. "You can stay down here today until I can find you some makeup, maybe bleach for your hair."

Rosie indicated for Wendy to follow, slowly making her way down a sturdy ladder. The basement was fairly small but it housed a bed, a lamp and a bookshelf.

"After we disguise you, we need to do something about that tattoo." Rosie bit her lip. "I know a good healer, she may know what to do. I'll try to bring her in."

The books upon Rosie's shelf were all contentious. Some were simple storybooks, novels and anthologies. Others were discourses on ethics, philosophy and science.

"Is there anything you need before I go?" Rosie asked, wondering if she was going to get Wendy in even more trouble by trying to help her.

Bleach?! A smaller, self conscious part screeched. "Okay. Okay. Thank you." she mumbled, following Rosie down into the basement with less than confident steps.



"I thought I would just wear long sleeves..." Wendy said as she reached the ground, her hand going over to her arm automatically. "What if it's magic?"

What if the seventen use it to track us?



"No. No, I'll just... Read... Um. Rosie?" she said in a quiet voice, much more calm than before. "Thank you. Thank you so much for this."

Rosie frowned, then smiled. No point telling Wendy that they checked for tattoos on the way out. They could worry about that later. Rosie lit the lamp, she'd paid for expensive oil so it wouldn't smoke but the light was still yellowish.

"You're welcome dear. I'll drop you down some more food later." Rosie reached over to give Wendy a gentle hug. "We'll get you out of here, then you can start fresh, have a real life of your own."

Rosie rubbed a tear from her eye. She hated to see the way the passives were treated. Wendy was just a girl, she deserved a real life. Wendy walked back up the ladder and waved goodbye, shutting the hatch and leaving the room bathed in lamplight. Hours passed before she returned.

"Wendy?" She asked, sounding slightly reluctant, "I've brought a visitor to see you."

A middle-aged witch clambered down the ladder, a pipe firmly lodged in her mouth.

"I wish you wouldn't do that." Said Rosie, quietly.

Rosie could see that the witch was tall once she was on the ground. Her hair was died red and held back in an ornate arrangement of braids and cornrows. Her eyes were dull green, seemingly bored with the sights around her or with Rosie's soft nagging. There were tattoos around her eyes, shaped like the flow of the wind on a gusty day.

"I know love but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do." She nodded at Wendy. "Hesta. I'm here to get that brand off."

She held up a strange looking needle and smiled.

Wendy returned the hug and then settled down to read. Nothing too deep. Just a story. It wasn't long until she fell asleep.

Noises above woke her and she rubbed her eyes when Rosie came down with another woman.



"Oh. Um." She glanced at Rosie nervously and back at Hesta, "W...uh. Venadi. How-- how do you plan to go about doing that?"

Her eyes were on the needle. She wasn't afraid of them as she knew some of her companions were...but this didn't look like anything she'd ever seen before.

The witch smiled.

"I am going to give you a new a tattoo, over the old one, then I'm going to heal it." She held her hands up." Boom! No more tattoo, may take more than one go though and I had better leave you with a real one for the look of the thing."

Rosie sighed and looked at the woman. "Please don't scare her..."

"I'm not scared!" Wendy snapped angrily, more out of fear than she would admit to herself.

"If-- if that's what it's going to take I'll do it. But...what are you going to draw over it?" She stared at the tattoo's around the woman's eyes and tried not to make a face. Please let it be nothing too bawdy or outlandish!

The woman pulled some supplies out of a bag on her shoulder.

"At the moment I'm just drawing over it, we'll see about redesigns once we see how much comes off." She took out some rubbing alcohol and a piece of cotton. "You'd best sit down, this will take a while. Do you want a drink first? I'm going to be injecting ink into your skin with this needle here."

Rosie moved over to Wendy's side to pat her shoulder reassuringly.

"I'll be fine without drink in me." Wendy growled, sitting down and not liking this at all.

Not that I have any other choice. Even freedom has its price for us.

The wick gave her a dry look.

"Hey, your choice. This is probably going to hurt like a bitch though."

The witch went to work, perforating Wendy's skin to let the ink in. Rosie stayed by Wendy as the tattoo was started. It took a long time to even get half way.

"I'm going to stop now and see how we're going." She said after a long, painful time. She spoke in monite, inviting the skin to reject the ink and heal. She'd done it before, disrupting the normal healing of skin and then causing it to break down the ink in a manner far from natural. It was a weird spell.

She sat back. There was a faint layer of faded ink under Wendy's skin, one that would likely fade with further healing or access to the sun.

"I can change that into something else, or we can play it off as a brth mark." It did look faintly purple. "Do you want to keep going or have rest?"

The only thing that changed in Wendy's demeanor was the hand that was holding onto Rosie's. She squeezed tighter and tighter the longer they were into the process, clenching her teeth and glaring out into the room. The passive let out a breath when Hesta stopped and she let go of the other woman's hand, flexing her own.

"Sorry." she mumbled to Rosie, biting the inside of her cheek.



"Oh. Um. A moment, please." To prepare myself mentally.

She leaned on her knees, to disguise the trembling that her hands were suddenly doing. "Which are the seventen least likely to think is a passive tattoo?"

Rosie patted Wendy's hands reassuringly, not minding how tightly she was squeezing. She looked up at the witch. "Which gives her the best shot, Petra?"

Petra thought about, "Hmm, probably a tattoo, especially if we dress her up like a wick. What do you think Ro', blue hair? Shaved at the back?"

Petra smiled mischievously. Rosie returned it softly.

"How about dredlocks?" She asked, looking at Wendy. "You might enjoy living the wick lifestyle for a while."

"Blue!?" Wendy squawked and then, "SHAVED!?"



"Dreadlocks?" The passive moaned,running her hands through her beautiful smooth hair, "I-- think I'd rather getting it shaved. At least it'll grow out then."

The Wick lifestyle? Me? Wendy bit her lip, "Do you really think I could pass as one? A wick, I mean? I-- I don't have a field..."

Everything was new and frightening for Wendy, who had never really stepped out of Brunhold, had barely left the university. The most outlandish people she saw were in this very bakery, and out of those Tristaanian took the cake. But he isn't as odd as this Hesta woman.

Her eyes flicked to the eye-tattoo's again and away. "Blue hair..." she murmured, in awe at the very thought. She'd have been beaten senseless at the University...And Pascual would have laughed until he cried.

That's right...I can do whatever I want...But at what price? I miss him...so much.

Wendy's face grew somber, "No matter. I'll do whatever it takes to get out of this blasted place."

Petra smiled kindly at Wendy, hands on her hips. "You'd make a fine wick, we have passives to you know, we're just not as horrible to them."

She walked closer and placed a hand under Wendy's jaw, tilting it left and right gently.

"If we put some makeup on you, you would definitely pass for a wick. Giving you tattoos on both arms would be a good idea, to make you fit in better. Most wicks have many tattoos, at least the ones I run with." She let go and picked up her needle again. "I think we best keep going. Aside from tattoos most of what we'll do to disguise you isn't permanent. May as well get the unpleasant part over."

Rosie took Wendy's hand again as Petra resumed her work.

"What work can you do, chip?" Petra asked as she tapped more ink into Wendy's skin.

Wendy took a deep breath, "Well. Mostly cleaning. Sweeping, picking things up, dusting...that sort of thing." She shut her eyes and winced, as the witch continued the tattoo. Her hand was once again squeezing Rosie's very tightly. "I'm not...ah--!" Deep breath, "I'm not exactly useful for much else beyond... nn-- beyond cleaning."

She clenched her teeth shut again, trying to concentrate on other things besides what was going on with the needle at her arm.

Petra snorted in an unladylike fashion. "That sounds boring as heck. Can you dance? Play an instrument? Did you ever learn how to ride a horse or a moa?"

Petra kept tapping as she spoke.

"Petey... Perhaps give the girl a moment to reply?" Rosie said reasonably, warmth and mild chastisement obvious.

Petra smiled, teeth flashing and cheeks looking a might warm.

"How you doing there, Wendy? I bet I could teach you to read fortunes!" Petra said, speaking slower now.