The Prisoner's Release and Other Stories (17 page)

Mikka pointed to a tub with a few buckets beside it. “Rather cold, I’m afraid, but it’s clean. If you need it heated up, place it in there…” he gestured to a metal plate in the back wall that was hinged to drop down. “The stove’s lit. It takes about half an hour to warm up the water.”

“
No, that’s okay. I can handle the cold. I’ll just rinse the dust off.”

“
Good. I’ll find you something nicer to wear.”

“
I…” The fox had turned to go back into the store and now turned at Jonas’s hesitant word.

“
What’s the matter?”

“
I can’t pay you for clothes,” Jonas said.

Mikka shrugged and smiled. “We’ll work out some arrangement.” He walked back into the store and left Jonas to think about that.

The water was not unbearably cold, and Jonas was happy to get the accumulated dust and dirt out of his fur. He washed until he started to shiver, and then got out and shook himself as dry as he could. He was smoothing down his fur with his paws when he noticed that Mikka had returned.

“
Been keeping up your exercises, I see.” The fox grinned, making no effort to avoid looking at Jonas’s naked body.

“
I do what I can.” He was torn between trying to act embarrassed and acting nonchalant, and decided it was less trouble to act nonchalant.

“
Is that one of Phineas’s pendants?”

Jonas touched the gold cougar and nodded. Mikka set a pile of clothes down on a bench and tossed a large towel to Jonas. “It’s nice. Here, dry off and then put these on.”

“
Thanks.” Jonas caught the towel and rubbed it through his fur.

Mikka sat on the bench next to the clothes. “Alexan must have given it to you. He does have a sweet side, doesn’t he? Well. First of all, tell me why you finally ran away.”

Jonas froze. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Mikka wouldn’t know yet. The fox went on when he didn’t answer immediately. “If you don’t want to talk about it yet, I can understand that. I thought it might happen before long. Alexan hasn’t found the one person who can take him, and I didn’t think you’d be the one either. Though I did think you’d be able to take him for a bit longer. I guess he got upset when his plan failed, right?”

“
Yes.” It would be easier just to not say anything now. What if Mikka thought he was responsible for Alexan’s death and threw him out into the street, naked? Literally. Jonas clutched the towel to him. At that chilly moment, it seemed eminently possible. He would tell Mikka later, when he was clothed and more prepared. Or at least warmer.

“
Well, all right. If you want to stay here, you’ll have to work. You are cute, but you’re not that cute. Only I am that cute, and I already keep myself employed full time.” Jonas sensed that Mikka wanted a chuckle or a laugh in response, but his throat was still tight and all he managed was a kind of squeak. “I already have enough apprentices in the shop.” He tapped his muzzle.

“
I…” His voice came out a hoarse croak, so he cleared his throat. “I had an idea for a business.” If he hesitated, he wouldn’t be able to say it, so he charged ahead. “I could go back to prostitution. But on my own. I’d just need some help getting set up. Getting a place, and I suppose I’d need some clothes.” He dropped the towel and eyed the clothes on the bench.

“
I can help you with the clothes and we can track down some places for you.” The fox smiled. “You can pay me back in the usual way. I’d gotten the impression that you didn’t want to go back to that full time, though.”

Jonas sorted through the clothes on the bench. Mikka had chosen a light purple shirt, with ruffles down the arms, a pair of simple white underclothes, and some light trousers, very unlike the linen Jonas was used to. The fabrics were smoother than he’d ever worn, except once at an official function his father had taken him to, and, he thought with a pang, they looked like something Sasha would have liked. He pulled on the underthings, the trousers, and finally the shirt. They fit perfectly, though the airiness of the trousers left his legs cold. “I don’t,” he said, “but what choice do I have?”

“
There’s always work,” Mikka said gently. “But it is a noble profession, you know. Unsavory sometimes, I’m sure, but necessary, and it can be very rewarding. Besides, I would hate to see your talents wasted.”

“
You haven’t,” Jonas said, surprised at how bitter he sounded.

Mikka set his ears back in surprise, then brought them slowly up. “Ah. Alexan told me his payment scheme was your idea, but it wasn’t, was it?”

“
No.”

“
I see.” Mikka looked away. “Well. That’s rather awkward. A credit to your professionalism, though.”

“
About the clothes.” Jonas fingered them. “I’ll find some way…”

“
No, no, keep them. They’re not my best anyway. And now I feel guilty.”

“
No. I want to pay for them.”

Mikka smiled. “You can do chores around the shop if you want.”

Jonas thought about that, imagining himself fumbling around the clothing store, and winced. “I already know what you like.”

Mikka’s tail gave a twitch, and his smile receded. “Are you sure?”

“
I’m
telling you this time.” As much as the thought of sex with Mikka stirred up bad memories, the thought of the amount of hard labor he would have to do for the equivalent payment was daunting. At least he was practiced at sex, and at dealing with what it made him feel.

“
Listen,” Mikka said, his muzzle and ears set back seriously. “I flirt, I joke, but I don’t want to pressure you. I’m sure Alexan did that and you’ve had enough of it. I used to date him, remember?” he said at Jonas’s expression.

Jonas nodded. “I know. Thanks.”

“
Come on inside, and let’s talk about your business. I can take the work I’m doing into the front so the apprentices don’t have to hear.”

Jonas walked inside, past the busy apprentices, revising his opinion of Mikka. The mouse glanced up at him and then back down hurriedly when Jonas met his gaze. The others ignored him, or pretended to.

Mikka closed the door as Jonas entered the front room. “They’re good helpers, but they do gossip,” he said. “I had to stop bringing my ‘friends’ here because of that. At least, during the day.”

Jonas managed a grin, and Mikka hoisted himself onto the counter, curling his tail around behind him. His muzzle was closer to level with Jonas’s now. “Oh, I’m just kidding.” He grinned back at Jonas. “So you want to start a business. Have you thought about where your customers will come from? With your talents, you could be very successful, but if nobody knows about you, then nobody will pay you.”

The fox was waiting for him to jump into the conversation, Jonas could see, and after a moment he figured out why. His father had brought him along on some business meetings at a very young age, hoping he’d show some interest in the business, or the numbers. Or anything. Jonas remembered one thing his father had told him, that the most important things said in business deals were not spoken aloud. He’d never really gotten the hang of the numbers, but he had been able to read people fairly well, a skill which he carried over into his other line of work. Here, Mikka’s body language was telling him that the fox didn’t want to be the one to make the first offer. “I’d need someone to help me get some customers. Would you be able to help? I’d pay you.”

“
I believe I could.” Mikka examined his claws. “I would want a quarter of whatever they pay you.”

His father had sometimes paid commissions or “finder’s fees” for people who brought him business. “Just the ones you send me?”

“
Just the ones I send you.”

Jonas curled his paw back and forth over the smooth floor. He examined Mikka’s posture, noting a little tension, and wondered how far he could negotiate. “Copper for silver.” That was ten percent, one copper for every silver spent. He’d heard his father use the term years ago.

Mikka looked up at him now, appraisingly, and Jonas met his gaze. “Two coppers,” the fox said.

“
One and a half.”

“
Two.”

Jonas grinned suddenly. “Two, plus the clothes.”

Mikka’s ears flicked back and forward quickly in surprise, and then he laughed. “Am I that disgusting?” Jonas raised his eyebrows, afraid he’d hurt the fox’s feelings, but Mikka was still smiling as he riposted. “All right, two plus the clothes, but you give me a discount if I want to pay for a session. Say, half price?”

“
And I don’t pay your commission on those sessions.”

Mikka laughed again. “I should hire you to do my negotiations. All right, deal.” He held out a paw and extended his muzzle.

Pleased with himself, Jonas took the fox’s paw and brushed his whiskers against the fox’s on either side of his muzzle. He had the feeling that he’d passed some sort of initiation or test, and that gave him a boost of confidence he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“
All right. Do you think we need to draw up an agreement? Can you read and write? Oh, of course you can. I found this in your pocket.” He pulled out Jonas’s letter to Pike. “Sorry, I’d forgotten about it. Did you want to send it to Ferrenis?”

Jonas had forgotten about it too. “I…I don’t really know how.”

“
There are ways to get it there.”

Mikka was waving the letter back and forth. “Yes, all right. Just…I’ll pay you back later.”

The fox grinned. “No charge for this one.” He hopped down off the counter. “So do you want to draw up an agreement?”

Jonas nodded. “If you don’t mind.”

“
Of course not. I still have a lot of work to do today, so maybe you could do the writing. I’ve got paper and ink in that drawer and I’m sure there are quills around somewhere. Just write down what we talked about and leave four places for signatures.” Mikka padded to the back room.

“
All right. I’ll just…” Jonas trailed off as he heard the click of the back door. He reached for the drawer, then hesitated and took a moment to look more carefully around the room.

He could have jumped from the counter to the front window; the room wasn’t large. But every inch of every wall was covered by clothing, some of familiar fabrics, others he could only guess at. There seemed to be no rhyme nor reason to the arrangement, as beaded shirts hung next to fine silken pants like the kind Jonas was wearing. Near the door, a wooden stand with five hooks held two flat bags full of clothes, and in one corner was a pile of empty bags. The wood floor was clean and smooth, and the scent of the shop was a pleasant mix of fabric and dye, under which ran Mikka’s fox scent, like a brand.

Obviously the fox was successful. Jonas hadn’t thought there were this many fine clothes in all the city, but since Mikka was clearly not the only tailor, this must be just a fraction. He shook his head and applied himself to the task of writing out the agreement.

He was halfway done—he kept stopping and starting, trying to find the right words—when the door creaked open and a well-dressed bobcat walked in. He wore a red shirt with a beaded pattern that looked familiar to Jonas; glancing to one side, Jonas saw that a similar blue shirt hung on Mikka’s wall. He also sported a jaunty red cap with a feather in it, which bobbed as he strode up to the counter, but his expression didn’t match the light frivolity of his clothes.

“
Where’s Mikka?” he snarled.

“
Uh…in back.”

The bobcat’s paws came up. “Easy,” he said. “I’m not mad at you. I don’t blame you for taking a deal, sir. I just thought we had an agreement. Mikka!” he roared unexpectedly, and Jonas flattened his ears. “Sorry!” The bobcat held up his paws again.

Jonas shook his head, puzzled. Mikka opened the door and padded in. “Xaric,” he said. “Your merchandise is there by the door, but you’re early.”

“
I thought we had a deal, Mikka. What’s this?” Xaric pointed at Jonas.

“
Oh. He’s not a noble, he’s a friend.”

“
Really.” The bobcat crossed his arms. “He’s a cougar in your shop wearing your clothes, but he’s not a noble and you’re not selling directly to him.”

“
I’m not a noble,” Jonas said.

Xaric’s scowl didn’t fade. “Then what’s that agreement you’re writing out?”

“
It’s a private business matter.” Mikka turned the parchment over.

“
You’re selling him clothes directly.”

Mikka started to say something, but Jonas put his paw down on the paper and looked down into the bobcat’s eyes. “I’m a prostitute,” he growled.