A Latent Dark by Martin Kee Page A

elsewhere.” He stumbled to the door, blinking in surprise to see someone already there when he opened it.
    “You’ve got early customers,” he said over his shoulder. Both men fell silent, taken aback their argument had been overheard.
    Marley took one look at her and bellowed “Out!”
    Skyla only stared at him, the other man now stepping back from her.
    “No children!” Marley hollered, taking a heavy step toward the door. He lowered his arm and picked up another mug that was shaped like a coiled cobra. “And you ain’t bringing that rat with wings into my pub either. Now shoo!”
    “Maybe he’s deaf,” Dale said, stepping back toward the bar. “It happens a lot with those gypsy kids. They stand too close to a cannon or they get water in the ear—”
    “She,” said Skyla, trying to raise her voice above a fresh argument.
    “What?” Marley said, leaning in.
    “I said ‘she’,” Skyla said, more tired than annoyed. “I’m a girl. And this isn’t a rat, it’s a raven.”
    “I don’t care if it’s a talking possum,” said Marley. “Go sell your trinkets somewhere else.”
    “I’m not selling anything, I just need a place to sleep for the night.”
    Marley laughed, his huge mustache cracking wide to reveal a row of mostly intact teeth. Dale continued to stare at the girl as if hallucinating.
    “Does this look like an inn to you, kid?” Marley said, amused. “Go stay in town somewhere. I ain’t taking lodgers.”
    “I don’t have any money.” She took a bold step into the pub. “And they told me I can’t stay in the city yet.”
    Marley already had his palm out. “Not my problem. That bird’ll make a mess of the place.”
     “You’re worried about a bird making a mess of this ?”
    Dale snorted then fell silent under the weight of Marley’s scowl.
    “The answer’s no,” Marley said, placing both hands on the counter, the wood protesting as it bent inward under his weight. For all his intimidation, Skyla could see his other shadow on the wall. He was mostly safe despite his immense size, his shadow drooping with guilt and shame.
    “I can go,” said Skyla, “if you think you can live with yourself when I end up dead, or worse come morning.” She winced inwardly as his shadow looked back.
    But Marley only blinked.
    After a pause, she broke into a smile. “Besides, you look like you could use some help keeping this place clean.”
    Dale watched her take two more steps into the bar and turned to Marley. “She’s right you know. This place is sort of a sty.”—he caught a dishrag with his good hand—“And you could certainly use the help around here.”—He dodged a mug, smiling as Marley hurled a plate at the floor by his feet.
    Marley grunted, and then sighed. “Can you use a mop?”
    “I can,” she said, then glanced around the floor. “But apparently you can’t.”
    Dale laughed again as Marley gave a defeated sigh.
    “Mop’s in the back,” he said, jabbing a massive thumb over his shoulder. “You’ll wait the tables and get clean cups from the back if we run out. Think you can handle that?”
    She saluted as she headed toward the back of the pub, Orrin squawking from her shoulder. Marley asked her name.
    “Skyla,” she said. “And you?”
    “Marley,” he grunted. “That bird had better behave itself. You can work for one night, then out you go. There’s a guest bed on the loft above the pantry.”
    “Will you vouch for me?” she asked.
    “Huh?” He raised a bushy eyebrow.
    “The guards said you had to vouch for me.”
    He looked between her and Dale. “We’ll see how it goes.”
    Upon entering the pantry, and climbing up the wooden ladder, Skyla wondered what sort of guest would actually fit in the “guest bed” which was simply a four foot straw mat and a sandbag for a pillow. She moved some sacks of flour out of the way and found she could barely fit as long as she didn’t stretch out her legs completely. Lying in the loft, she could almost