Marcus Stone's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Orla's workers came at dawn, just as she promised. Six of them crossed the rope bridge with strong arms and quiet eyes. They watched everything. They counted his beams, his rope, the notches in his platform. Marcus stood by the standing post and hated it. He needed their hands to raise the next beam. But every hand belonged to Orla, and Orla wanted his keys. He couldn't let her people learn the bones of his fortress. "You," Marcus said to the nearest worker. "Stay off the north platform." The man only smiled and kept measuring. They didn't answer to Marcus. They answered to her. By noon the beams still lay flat. He wouldn't work with a crew he couldn't trust, and no one else would come. His fortress was frozen. He crossed to the gathering hall with the broad rooftop, hoping to hire day labor from the crowd. Inside, colored lights washed the bar counter. Bottles glowed. He found no free hands, only drinkers. Then he saw her near the pink and purple tables. A woman in a white gown, gold thread bright against her skin. On her chest, ink read nothing is promised. A small pink lizard sat on her shoulder, still and watchful, its eyes fixed on Marcus like it already knew him. "You look like a man who lost something," she said. Her voice was warm. "I'm Angel." "I lost my whole build," Marcus said. "I need hands I can trust. There aren't any." Angel tilted her head. The lizard shifted, tail curling. "People here owe me favors too. Not for leverage. Just love." She smiled. "I grew up with nothing promised and no home. I'd help a man make one." Marcus studied her. His shell told him to walk. But she asked for no keys. She named no debt. "Why would you work for a stranger?" "Because you're building a place for the people you love," she said. "I never had that. I'd like to see it stand." He brought her to the platform. Angel didn't watch his beams like a spy. She rolled up her gold sleeves and gripped the second beam's end. Orla's workers stopped and stared. Marcus counted. He and Angel pulled. The beam swung up and dropped into its notch with a crack. It held. Two posts stood now, raised by hands he chose. Marcus turned to Orla's crew. "Off my platform. All of you." This time they went. Word would reach Orla by dark, and she would come for an answer. But the fortress had a builder who wanted nothing from him but its standing. The pink lizard watched from Angel's shoulder as the sun dropped. Marcus wiped his palms and looked at the two posts. He had a partner now. He also had Orla's crew banished, her favor spurned, and her knife still somewhere in the dark.