Chapter 17
Chapter 17
The boy was surrounded by three or four older, taller boys, cornered against a wall. Arietta somehow recognized him instantly. The leader of the group, mid-swing, raised a hand to stop the others.
“Hey. Getting some sense knocked into you, huh?” His voice dripped with mockery.
The much smaller boy gasped, lifting his head. Arietta couldn’t see clearly, but she knew. His eyes would be blazing with defiance.
“Whoa, look at this! You got a problem with your eyes?”
“I already paid.”
“Ha, he’s at it again. When did you pay?”
“You took my stuff!”
They were close enough now that Arietta could hear every word. She propped her chin on her hand, blinking.
“Hmm.”
Payment. Downstream society was fundamentally organized by gangs. The Dale gang ran Arietta’s district. If you wanted to live there, you paid Dale monthly. It didn’t matter how you got the goods—legally, stolen, extorted—you just had to have them.
Otherwise… well, you suffered the consequences. Seia made the monthly payment to Dale, for both herself and Arietta. Yes, for Arietta too.
Dale meticulously collected from everyone, even children. No exceptions. This boy wouldn’t have been exempt.
He must have scraped together his payment in the harsh Downstream environment, judging by his insistence that he’d already paid. Remarkable survival skills.
But there was clearly a discrepancy, given the current altercation. Arietta’s eyes flicked back and forth before she clicked her tongue, understanding dawning.
‘The bully didn’t make his own payment this month.’
He’d taken the boy’s offering, claiming he’d submit it for him, then pocketed it. The boy, realizing the deception, had protested, leading to this… corrective beating.
Payment scams were common. Trusting someone else with your goods was foolish. If the boy had a decent adult looking out for him, he’d have known better. He must be an orphan, alone, easily taken advantage of.
“I already paid. I’m not paying twice.”
The boy’s voice was sharp.
“Then get hit again.”
The leader snarled.
The beating resumed. Despite the agonizing pain, the boy refused to apologize or promise more goods.
Such stubbornness. Arietta was fascinated by his refusal to yield, even as he was pummeled. The first lesson Downstream children learned was to be subservient to the strong and cruel to the weak. It was the only way to survive. Yet, this boy…
Within minutes, he could barely stand. He was likely malnourished, and now this beating. Pathetic.
Arietta decided she’d seen enough. She hopped down to the first floor and rummaged through the kitchen cupboard.
The bag the boy had left behind the day he’d tried to steal from her was still there. Arietta filled it with healing salve, purifier, and food.
A luxurious amount for most Downstream residents, but for Seia and Arietta, it was a mere surplus.
She slipped on her shoes and headed out to the alley. The brutal sounds continued. Arietta cleared her throat.
“You’ll kill him. Stop.” Her bold, clear voice rang out.
Startled, the leader turned, scowling. He clenched his fist, ready to teach the interloper a lesson, but faltered, his expression shifting to bewilderment when he saw Arietta.
Twirling a strand of hair, Arietta stared directly at him. “Uncle Dale won’t like it if you kill him. Who are you to reduce the number of people paying him?”
Her tone was unbelievably insolent, but the leader hesitated, unable to strike her. Arietta was well-known, both for her pretty face and for being the daughter of Seia, the “witch.”
The rumors Arietta dismissed as nonsense were taken as gospel by the other children. The witch, they said, possessed immense power and was fiercely protective of her daughter. No one knew what price they might pay for harming the witch’s child.
“If you leave now, I’ll keep it a secret that you stole his payment and tried to pass it off as your own.”
The faces of the four bullies paled.
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