Foxglove-Chapter One

I walked across the dusty floor, my bare feet leaving footprints. The window near the door let in the only light this early in the morning. Sun poured in from it, through the holes in the worn, ratty curtains. Dust danced in the slanted rays of sun, dancing the atmosphere a hazy tinge. 

"Essa...Essa..." my baby sister whispered from her crib. "Essa..." 

I approached little Kalley, picking up her small, two-year-old body and cradling her against me. 

"Hey, Kalley," I whispered, leaning to pick up her under-stuffed stuffed elephant from the crib. She mumbled and giggled, reaching for her elephant.

"Effie!" She whispered a little too loudly. I snuggled her and Effie the Elephant against me, moving swiftly and silently out the door. 

"Shh, honey, mommy's still sleeping." I whispered. I made my way out of the bedroom we shared with our brothers and to the living room. Conner and Caleb were sprawled on the floor on their stomachs, playing a game of chess and listening to the radio quietly. I put Kalley down next to them, and she sat down next to eight-year-old Caleb--the closet to her in age and the most amazing person in the world to her. 

"Conner, you're in charge," I said to Conner, the second oldest after me at twelve years. "I'm going to the market."

"Alright, Jessamine." Conner said to me in an annoyed tone. I moved to the door, tugging on my worn and tattered boots. 

"Don't play the music too loud, and pay attention to Kalley. If I'm not home by noon, there's soup in the kettle over the fire you can warm it up. I put fresh water in the jug by the cooler, and there's some bread in the cabinet." I reached into the cupboard closest to me, pulling out a small glass jug we put our spending money in. I took out six pence before replacing it. "I washed the dishes," I continued. I knew Conner had rolled his eyes even though he faced away from me. "Everything is set, though I shouldn't be out too long to begin with." 

"Yes, Jessamine." He called with a audible sigh. "Goodbye, Jessamine."  

I rolled my eyes at his dismissive tone and pulled on a sweatshirt before heading out into the spring air. The streets were busy; bikes wheeled by with the carts in tow, and men on horses stomped up and down the streets, screaming outrageous things like 'Down with the King!' and 'The end of Torence reign is Nee!' to the throngs of busy people. Old women stood huddled around carts of fruits, vegetables and herbs, trying to sell them to passers-by. 

Some of Coven's clay-brick buildings had been spruced up with newer curtains or flower pots full of dead plants. Our dirt roads were packed but still released clouds of dust at every sharp turn of wheels or stomp of a horse hoof. People shouted out windows to people on the streets and some neighbors had full, shouted conversations from their neighboring windows as they hung laundry to dry.

I shoved my hands deep into my pockets as I turned a corner, then another, distancing myself from the hustle and bustle of the main square. The people became scarcer and the air quieter with each step and village block. At times, my footfalls made the only sounds.

I got to the alleyway. It was dark, with buildings blocking the sun rising in the East. A few people sat on dumpsters, passing around cigarettes or bottles of murky liquid. One boy in particular stood out to me. Garrett sat on a trash bin near a cellar door, carving a block of soap with a pocketknife. When he saw me, his face lit up and he put down the soap and knife to stand.

"Good mornin', Jessamine." he said with a smile. I smiled back, reaching up to brush a stray strand of mousy brown hair from my face.

"Morning, Garrett." I replied as he reached out to embrace me in a friendly hug. When he stepped back, he dropped his hands to his pockets. I dropped mine to my own.

"Here for the drawing?" He asked. I nodded. "I heard there was an American big-shot in there, looking for recruits for some new project."

My eyebrows shot up. "Really?" I asked in surprise. It was rare for anyone out of Britain to come to Coven's Black Market, let alone someone overseas. "How odd."

"Odd indeed." He agreed. "Well, I mustn't keep you." He said, opening the cellar door and let me through.

The door lead down a flight of stairs which I descended quickly. I was met by yet another door at the bottom. This one was guarded by a woman at a make-shift desk.

"One Apate pass, please." I said, digging a pence out of my pocket. The woman looked up at me, scribbled something in her notebook then retrieved a yellowed ticket from a burlap pouch next to her.

"One pence, and your name, please." She said.

I dropped the pence onto her desk. "Jessamine Foxglove Forner." I said confidently.

She slid the round pence into a ceramic jar, then handed my the ticket. "Ah, Foxglove, yes. Good luck."

I nodded a thanks to the woman and headed through the door to Coven's very pride--The Black Market. The place was more organized than the main square outside my house, and much quieter, but nearly as busy. The only noise was the low murmur of voices and a silent auction, as well as the occasional sounds of dice or another casino game. Men and woman walked briskly from booth to booth in a professional manner. There were booths brimming with everything from illegal plastic surgeries to inexpensive knockoff-medicine of the pharmaceuticals.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a mass of blond hair hurdling towards me. I turned just as her arms wrapped around me.

"Jessamine!" Aren stage-whispered with a slight squeal. Her face burrowed into my shoulder. I gently tried to pry her off, but failed miserably.

"Aren," I said, awkwardly patting her on the back. "I can't...breath."

Aren's arms dropped and all five feet of her jumped up and down. At five-foot-seven, I towered over her, and she looked up at me with excitement and anticipation.

"Alright, Aren, what is it?" I put my hands on her shoulders in an attempt to calm and contain her, but she grabbed my wrist and began dragging me towards the section of the underground market that held auctions. "Aren!"

"Jessamine, he's here! He's really here! The American's picking thieves!" She yanked me through the throngs and crowds of people. "Oh, you must be one of them, Jessamine! You must! I can't do this without you!"

I would have stopped in my tracks if she wasn't pulling me along. "You've been chosen?"

She scoffed as she lead me through yet another door. "Yes, I have, don't act as if it's such a surprise." She continued dragging me. "Hurry, we mustn't keep him waiting."

When Aren finally stopped dragging me, I was able to take in the sight of the large room we were in. There was training equipment everywhere and a line of nearly twenty all my age and dressed similar to Aren and I and blank faces stood along a wall. A foreign-looking man, presumably the American, sat at a long table, facing us and the equipment. Another foreign man sat nearby at some sort of light box.

"Ah, Aren, you've returned. The man at the table said. "So this is Foxglove."

Aren nodded and pushed me forward slightly. "Yes, this is Foxglove. Best in our line of work."

I smiled proudly, extending my hand to the man. "Jessamine Foxglove Forner, at your service, Mr..." I trailed, leaving it open for him to give me his name.

"My name is of no importance until you have been hired." He said abruptly. "How old are you, Jessamine Foxglove Forner?"

"I'm 19." I said, taking a relaxed but on guard pose.

"As of?" He questioned, leaning forward slightly.

"I was 19 as of June 13th last year. I'll be 20 next month." I answered. It was only the third of March.

"Siblings?"

"Three. Two brothers, one sister. All minors."

"And your skills?"

"She packs a great right-hook and a mean kick to the gut." Aren commented, almost as proud of me as I was of myself.

He nodded taking in the information. I decided to interject with my best skill. "I'm the best at trip-lasers."

"Ah, really, now?" he looked to the man by the light box. The man nodded and hit a few buttons. The American looked back to me. "Please, let us see."

He tossed me a pair of fingerless gloves--which we used to get better grip on slippery floors--as the lights blacked out. Suddenly, in an area just a few feet from me, a complicated grid of trip-lasers appeared, giving the room a slight red tinge of light, and it was the only light in the room.

I slipped on the gloves and stepped towards it. The first beam was low, with another beam a foot higher and an inch behind it. Another beam was of the same height as the first but a few feet back. I tossed off my sweatshirt, then my shoes to make it simpler. Aren tapped my shoulder, handing me a hair elastic. I tied my hair up quickly into a bun, carefully securing each piece in place.

I sank down to a squat, then easily slid between the first three beams. I slowly made my through the next set of beams, then the next. With each came a more severe test of my perfect balance and flexibility.  I used my years of ballet training when I was younger to bend and tip-toe with stealth and precision. I came to a section too impossible to go through, and decided to slide under and through the bases of the beams, moving slowly still, almost hitting a beam with my bottom but missing it by a hairsbreadth. /at last, I stealthily moved over a beam at the end, then through a pair that were two feet apart in height, with the lowest reaching my mid-thigh.

I stood at the end, finally, with no more beams to face. There was a Styrofoam dummy nearby, and I took the liberty to round-house kick the plastic gun from his hand, then flip up and land on his shoulders, knocking him onto his back with ease.

The lights came back on and the grid disappeared. The American was smiling and clapping slowly. "Well done, Foxglove. You're hired."

I smiled proudly and stood up, retrieving my shoes and sweatshirt and putting them back on. "Thank you, Sir."

He nodded and handed me a packet of papers of generous weight. "This is the mission. You and the others will begin training and preparation in one week. You are dismissed."

Aren and I took our pamphlets and made our way out of the complex labyrinth of the Black Market.

"You were great." Aren praised me. "I'm so happy we get to be in the same mission!" her arms lurched around me, and I gasped for air again. With her strength, it was hard to forget her specialty: incapacitating.

"Can't breath." I choked out. She released me as we walked past the woman behind the desk. We dropped our Apate passes and started up the stairs.

"Is Garrett still on duty?" Aren asked. I opened the door to the outside world. A strange man with sunglasses on was seated on the trash bin. "I'll answer my own question with 'no'..."

"How's your father?" I asked her as we rounded the corner of the alleyway.

"Recovering. I was able to buy a medicine for him last week. It seems to have helped. What about your mum?"

"Not as well." I replied with a sight. Aren and I were in similar places. She was working as a thief to support her younger brother, mother and ill father. I was a thief to support Connor, Caleb, Kalley and our ill mother.

"I'm sorry, Essa." Aren touched my shoulder sympathetically.

In an instant, an arm went around each of our necks. We reacted immediately. I slipped down out of our attackers hold and knocked his legs out from under him. At the same time, out of the corner of my eye, Aren used his arm as a lever and threw her weight over, knocking him backwards as she flipped and his feet left the ground.

Then we saw who it was.

"Well, that was awesome, but a simple 'hello, Garrett, good day' would have been nice as well." Garrett joked, out of breath.
"Oh, Garrett!" Aren said as we began helping him up. "I'm sorry."
"Yes, sorry Garrett." I said. He got to his feet and ruffled both of our hair.
"I should be used to it, by now." he stated as we continued walking.
"You should have learned your lesson by now, actually." Aren corrected.
Garrett wrapped an arm around each of our hips, pulling us towards him. "But that takes the fun out of things." He complained. Aren and I each draped an arm around his back in return. My hand brushed Aren's shoulder as we walked, and hers brushed mine.
"If you find getting beaten up on a regular basis by two girls fun, you have some serious issues." I said. I flipped open my pamphlet idly. "Says here that we have to go on some healthy, preplanned diet." I scanned the list of foods I would be eating for the next two months.
"At least it's free food." Aren commented, flipping open her own packet and idly flipping pages. "Oh, my God."
She stopped walking, which caused Garrett to stop, then me to whip lash into Garrett and narrowly miss a light post. I tripped over my feet, stumbling before Garrett's hand still around my hips caught me. "Aren!" I complained, straightening myself. "What is the matter with you?"
"Oh, my; oh, oh my..." Aren's eyes sparkled. Garrett and I both looked at her with growing concern.
"Enough riddles, Aren." I said, getting impatient. I put my hands on her shoulders, releasing myself from Garrett. "By God, what's the matter with you?"
"Ten thousand." she whispered.
"What? Ten thousand what?" I wanted to shake her.
"Dollars. American money. For this mission." Aren whispered, so low only I could her her.
My eyes bulged. My mouth gaped. "Ten thousand? My God." I took her pamphlet from her and read over the section.
Each hired thief will receive the pence equivalent to 10,000 dollars in American money.
I was speechless. Garrett was looking from one of us to the other and had released Aren from his arm. "What?" He asked, clearly growing concerned. "Ten thousand what?"
"The mission to end all missions." Aren and I said together softly.
Garrett sighed, taking us both by the hip again and leading us back down our previous path down the sidewalk. I was too shocked to object. "You know," he was saying. "You two are so involved with your little thieving business some days I wonder if you're just deceiving me, as well."
"Well, Garrett," Aren said slyly. "That's for us to know--"
"--And you to find out." I finished.
He shook his head. "I guess that's why they call you Foxglove and Oleander."
"Foxglove; a beautiful, deadly flower." I commented wistfully.
"Oleander; beautiful and deadly flower as well." Aren said in the same dreamy tone as me.
Garrett just shook his head as we made our way back home.

Author's Note

I suggest if you've never seen a picture of Foxglove or Oleander, to go look them up on Google. Both are beautiful; both are poisonous....
Anyway, how did you enjoy the chapter?? Any comments, questions, etc??
There shouldn't be any misspellings or such, since I copied it into MS Word to spell check. If I missed something, please let me know!
Some Things you may be unfamiliar with:
Apate--Greek Goddess of Deceit.
Foxglove and Oleander--Beautiful & Poisonous plants.

By the Way, this takes place in Britain. No designated time except it is March 3rd in this chapter.

Reviews

[emma]

loved. it. so. much.
i love Garrett already--don't ask me why, i just do. this chapter has already made a great impression on me, and i can't wait to read more!!