Sipp Morning (H 1.4)

When we reach the roof, I check, as always, for clouds before moving up to the edge where Lucky Strike and I sat this morning. I'm tempted to tell Pellet that it would be much more terrifying if she were at this edge with someone who might push her off at any moment, but she's already talking about gardens so I let it pass. I remain standing, watching the watercraft spreading out. It's a strange dance, how they all scatter. Aren't they even going to the same place?

Spotting Lucky Strike on that yacht makes my stomach nervous. I'm not sure why, but perhaps it's because without him here, I'm left to the whims of those who remain behind. Bristol will do what she's supposed to and get me to the Belly, I'm sure. But Karo will also be left behind, and him I don't trust at all. Without Lucky around to keep him in check, my next best option is trying to get the Whispers to call Nuport again. But if she's a repeated threat among her own gang, I have no doubt they'll do worse than just chain her up in the bathroom. It would be a death sentence.

I look down at Pellet. "Where are they going? Do you know?"

Pellet's mention of the librarian's knowledge makes my toes squirm inside my boots. She may be only my age, but her implied intellect as a Librarian is intimidating. How many books has she read, hidden away in their archives? How many could she write?

"It's helpful to have something uniquely useful in this world to wear as a shield," I say softly, my gaze still set on the steadily disappearing boats. I inhale and sit down on the edge of the roof like I did with Lucky Strike earlier, turning to look at Pellet where she sprawls. "Is the ganja how you met Hedges then, or did that happen the other way around?"

Pellet's recounting resuscitates the vision I had this morning of Hedges towering over Benson. Finding it's not an unfounded fear makes it more feral, gives it fangs. I'm grateful. The Whispers interrupt, informing me of Pellet's intent to impress and my lips part slightly in surprise. I have no idea why she would be worried with impressing someone like me, but if I can play it to my advantage, I will. I'll take anything I can get.

"Oddly chaste?" I echo her last phrase back to her, turning from watching the pebble fall to look at her. I'm about to ask her what she means, but then it's probably to do with the fact that I work at the Belly and don't bring a different person home with me every night, which is what a lot of people expect. I take a short breath, then answer, "I haven't tried it before. I don't like being...out of control." I think of Nuport, driven to madness by the Whispers. Maybe I'm fooling myself. How in control am I really? "I don't think Hedges would want me to share anyway. I'm-" I hunt for words that don't involve 'slave' or 'prisoner.' "I'm on the clock, technically." I check over my shoulder, aware that Hedges could join us at any moment, then ask Pellet, "The Librarians...you guys have information, but it's all old stuff, right? Do you have information about recent events too?"

I stiffen when Hedges finds us, the tender flower of hope that had started to bloom in the sunniness of Pellet's personality closing back up. I might have chosen to leave them here on the roof if Pellet hadn't included me in this ritual with her question. I cast a quick glance to Hedges, then look back at her. I shake my head. "I haven't done that before, no."

I pull my legs from dangling over the edge to sit cross-legged opposite Pellet, tucking my skirt into the crook of my knee to keep it from flying up in the breeze.

I watch Pellet's nimble fingers then mimic her motions, rolling the paper in front of me until I get to the last bit. I lift it and lick it, sticking the paper down to itself and trying to make sure the whole thing stays together as one. "It's not as good as yours," I say, handing it over to her. I'm not choosing which one Hedges will get. I'll leave that decision to her.

The easy way Pellet controls Hedges, and the way he accommodates her, makes her explanation of their relationship seem more plausible. There's a part of me that had doubted her, suspicious that she is the type to flit from love to love, head over heels for each of them whether they deserved it or not.

But when Hedges drops the s-word, I'm sure compensating for being so consumed by Pellet in front of me, my warmth toward their relationship cools. I don't move for a few beats, my tongue pressing to the roof of my mouth like it can hold the truth inside. Finally, I say, "It's temporary." My gaze skips from Pellet's face to her hands to the waters below to then to my own hands as I push against the concrete to stand. "I should go."

Hedges seems to have given in, but I hesitate, harried by the hypothetical repercussions. It's not just getting high that worries me. It's Hedges being here. Were it just Pellet and I, I could partake a little and perhaps even enjoy the escape, but with a Sippian here, my guard is up. Might he use this against me later? Will he use it against me now? Will I say something I shouldn't?

Stay or go? I ask the Whispers. They saved me once today, so they wouldn't fail me now I hope. What's going to happen?

"If you stay, Pellet will be your barnacle," a male Whisper suggests. "She'll expect you to help her once she helps you. A fetter."

"But, she will open Hedges' mind up to you, pry his secrets free," another Whisper interjects.

"If you leave now, he will be angry and she will be sad," a third predicts. "She will feel guilty and he will seek out ways to punish you."

The idea of another fetter on me makes my chest tighten, but the allure of knowledge and the security of keeping my captor happy is enough to make me sit back down.

"Alright. I'll try it." I let out a slow breath, attempting to ease the tightness in my chest. In my head, I keep replaying the words Pellet used - indentured servitude. I'm not sure what it means, but it sounds better than slave. I wonder if it's a word the Tower made up. They seem the type to paint pretty pictures over the corpses their comfort comes from.