Page 75 of Gunslinger Girl

“So what’s the second reason?”

“Well,” Olivia said, “is your daddy a rich man?”

In the commune, he had a certain luxury, but it was more power than currency. “No.”

“Then, trust me. As worn around the edges as she looks, Siena doesn’t come cheap. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Olivia’s confidence was reassuring. And now that Pity’d said it out loud, she had to admit the idea that her father would—could—send a bounty hunter after her was a little far-fetched. But if she wasn’t the bounty hunter’s target, then why had the woman seemed to show such a peculiar interest in her?

One problem at a time, she thought, summoning her resolve. And you’ve already got one chambered.

It was time to pull the trigger before she lost her nerve completely.

Pity found Max in his workroom, sitting on the floor, surrounded by flames. She was nearly upon him before he looked up from the piles of fabric encircling him—scraps of crimson, vermilion, and yellow. A shadow passed over his features, there and gone in the space of a heartbeat.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.”

Oh, good start. Pity swallowed to clear the lump from her throat. “What’s all this?”

He tossed the pieces he had been stitching to the floor. “Feathers. Or fire. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure yet. It’s something Halcyon has in mind for the Rousseaus, but…” He sighed. “It hasn’t quite come together yet.”

“You’ll get it.”

“Yeah.” His gaze remained on the pieces. “Did you… need something?”

“Yes.” She forced the words out before she could reconsider. “I… I wanted to apologize. For what happened the other night. And after my debut.”

Max stood up. “There’s no reason to—”

“Yes, there is. So, I’m sorry. I’ve been unfair to you. I know I haven’t been acting like it, but I don’t mind being just your friend.” She sighed. “In fact, I miss it. And with everything else that’s happened… I guess I don’t want to lose that. Heck, I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you.”

Max said nothing, eyes glazed with some fusion of emotion Pity couldn’t decipher. His teeth tugged worriedly at one of his lip rings.

“I don’t know if that’s something you should be thankful for,” he said finally. “I promised you’d be safe in Casimir and you almost died.”

“That wasn’t your fault.” She took a deep breath and exhaled. “Or mine. It was just bad luck. And I knew Cessation was dangerous from the beginning. What I didn’t expect is how quick I’d come to like it here. The Theatre… and the people.” As soon as she said it, the honest truth of it filled her. Despite everything that had happened, everything that she had faced, in no moment had she ever felt alone. In a scant few weeks, the people of Cessation had treated her more like family than her father and brothers ever had. “So can you forgive me for being an ass?”

A faint smile touched his lips. “You didn’t even need to ask. Just promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“This place—what it offers—can get the better of you if you’re not careful.”

Fresh embarrassment ignited. “Oh, you can be sure I’m not going anywhere near Luster’s pills again—”

“More than that,” he pressed. “Casimir, the Theatre, the whole city—it’s a puddle on the surface with an ocean underneath. Before you know it, you’re overcome. Promise me that if you ever feel like it’s getting the best of you—well, get out. I’d rather see you gone than drowned.”

Her stomach fluttered, but in a good way. Max had forgiven her. For all the shots she had missed, she was alive, and so was Selene. And for the moment Siena Bond was someone else’s trouble. Bit by bit, the gray clouds that had hovered over her were breaking apart, allowing the light in again. She couldn’t change the past—Garland was right about that—but she could be ready for what tomorrow brought.

“Okay, Max,” Pity said, her voice barely breaking a whisper. “I promise.”

PART TWO

CHAPTER 24

The nights, which always carried a chill once the sun set, turned true cold as winter approached. Still, the warm days disoriented Pity enough that when Christmas Eve arrived, it came almost as a surprise. Less of a shock was the uptick in trade; as the city celebrated its way through an array of winter holidays, customers, vendors, and goods jostled for every inch of free space at the BlackMark.