Wednesday.
The presses downstairs started to slow. The thump of the machines grew farther apart, and there were longer pauses between each run.
I caught a few muffled, stray voices, and some laughing now that the foremen weren't snapping at the workers anymore.
That was usually my sign that the day was nearly done.
I sat in my office with the window cracked open, letting in cooler air and the smell of ink and metal.
I was going over leftover notes. I did that every day, just to check and see what to expect next.
But there were other worries waiting for tomorrow.
I hadn't heard anything about the boss rallying any men to go and fight The Hopeless.
Sure, I wondered how he was going to manage - but then I dropped the thought. It wasn't my place. He was the planner. Even as the head of two operations myself, I was still just a minion compared to him.
And he seemed more than able to handle himself. I'd seen the armor he wore when things got serious, and it gave me a cold shudder.
A thought surfaced in my mind. I wondered if the grunts were being careful about asking around.
For normal people, brushing up against the name Hopeless could end badly.
If it could be traced back to us - even just a hint - it could end worse. Deadly, even, and I'd seen how the boss dealt with anyone who hurt his men.
They could burn the press, or our warehouses, in a hasty move to establish dominance.
But if it was the boss doing the asking, then there was no point in worrying.
With him, things had a way of working out that defied common sense. That was why he was the boss, and not us.
And in the end, he'd still kill them, wouldn't he? That was the whole reason he asked.
I could hear a few footsteps walking up the stairs, and then came a knock.
"Come in," I said.
Maybe it was a foreman or a worker who wanted to discuss something.
But when I looked up, it wasn't someone I'd have a happy time talking to.
Lady Medea was first, her tails flicking behind her. Her ears were up, long and furry.
Lady Regan followed. She almost had to crouch down to fit through the door-frame, as they were built for humans, and she was far too tall.
Lady Morgan came in last, quiet as quiet can be. And she looked as gloomy as she ever did.
Shadowboon's girls.
They had changed over the years. They looked like young women now, instead of children.
They scared me a bit, and I always thought they were strange, but there was no point dwelling on it. The boss liked them.
Lady Medea's fur had changed over the years; more orange. She looked more fox-like now than she used to be - not in a completely animal way, but enough that she had more fur along the sides of her head, blending into her human-like hair.
It also changed how she smelled. I didn't want to say bad, but… stronger. Even though I could smell the perfume she was wearing, there was a sharpness beneath it.
Lady Regan had grown too. Not just taller than before, but taller than anyone else I had ever seen. The doorway looked like something from a children's playground to her, and if she stood at her full height, her head almost touched the ceiling.
I wondered if I should raise it, just in case there were other people - especially orcs - who would equal her. There had to be other races that grew that tall too, on average. Definitely not humans.
And then there was Lady Morgan. I never had much to say about her. But I was sure her quiet was mistaken for coldness often enough. I knew better, or I thought I did. She was simply shy - the person I might have become if my life hadn't dragged me into darker places and taught me when to speak and when to keep my mouth shut.
I stood up. Not because I had to, but because it felt right.
I supposed I was something like an uncle to them, though I still tried to keep a respectful distance between them and myself. But with how often they had visited me recently, especially because of the academy stuff, that was useless now.
"Good evening," I said.
"Gullyman," Medea said, smiling. "Got a minute?"
I nodded. "I suppose I do. Today's work is mostly finished. But if this is about your allowance, I think young ladies-"
I thought about that for just a second. They were older than the boss, but looked about his age. It was all a bit complicated and strange, but it was what it was.
"Surely you're well provided for."
Lady Morgan sat by a chair in my office. Lady Regan leaned on a wall because she was too big for the other chair, and Lady Medea sat on the desk like a cat would. A strange position.
"It's not that. It's nothing like that! …But more money would always be good."
"Medea!" Lady Regan snapped at her.
"Alright, alright. We're worried," Lady Medea said.
"About what? If not money, then what?"
"About Master," Lady Regan said. "He's been off."
"He's always busy, isn't he?" I kept my face neutral.
"Not like this," Lady Morgan said. It surprised me that she spoke.
"He's distracted. Shorter answers. He hasn't slept much. Doesn't want to be around us for the past two days," Lady Medea said.
I said nothing. What could I have said?
Lady Medea tilted her head. "And he's visited you twice in two days."
"I do work for him."
"Yes," she said. "But not like that."
Regan pushed off the wall slightly. "Whatever's going on, it's serious. We can tell."
Orders were orders.
"I don't know what you want me to say," I said. "The boss asks for things. I do them."
I was aware of how this could turn. I'd rather just be cautious and stonewall than say anything that was outright untrue. So I stayed still. I kept my answers narrow and true in the strictest sense of the word instead of straight lying.
I didn't like lying very much, unless it was to authority, but these girls weren't anything like that.
"Come on, Gullyman. We're not idiots," Lady Medea said.
"I never said you were."
"Then don't treat us like we are," she snapped, tails lashing. "He's planning something. Something big. And we're being kept out of it."
"If there is something you want to know, it's between the ladies and the boss."
Lady Morgan's eyes narrowed. "You know something."
"I know my job," I said, looking her in the eyes as neutrally as I could. "And I do it."
That was all.
Lady Medea got close to my face like she expected something to crack. She bared her fangs.
But nothing cracked.
Their eyes were on me, and Lady Regan shifted her posture. That made the floorboard creak beneath her weight almost like it did when the boss arrived - but not quite.
That was the difference. They weren't the boss. I met their gazes when they looked at me. I didn't rush to fill the silence. It was answer enough.
They knew that I didn't speak a lot, but if asked, I said what was needed.
Lady Regan frowned. "You're telling us you've got nothing."
"I'm telling you I've got work," I said.
"Work, not talk, huh?"
"Don't be like that." I said.
Lady Regan crossed her arms. "Either you're careful, or you really don't know anything."
"We're not asking for details. Just… direction. A hint, or maybe an indirect finger pointing in the right direction, you know?" Lady Medea winked not very subtlety.
"If I had something to give," I said, "I'd give it to the boss first. That's how this works."
Lady Regan let out a slow breath through her nose. "He trusts you."
"I just do my work, nothing more, nothing less."
Lady Medea slid off the desk and stood, dusting imaginary lint from her coat. She circled once, slow, like she was thinking it through from every angle. I stayed where I was.
"No slips," she said quietly. "No tells. Either you're very good at lying, or there's nothing there."
"Ladies. If there was something to know, you should know first, right? The boss trusts you the most, and you see him far more often than I do, don't you?"
They looked at me with daggers in their eyes. There was that scary part again.
I wondered how the boss managed them every day.
Lady Regan pushed herself off the wall. "If this turns bad-" she warned me.
They exchanged looks. Not agreement. Just resignation.
Then Lady Medea nodded vigorously. "Alright."
She stepped toward the door, the others following.
"We'll talk to him," she said over her shoulder. "We'll find out, one way or another."
"Good luck," I said.
They left, and the door closed.
I sat in my chair. I hadn't said anything I wasn't allowed to.