10
The bells of the great cathedral on Hope Street rang the midnight hymn and Jess turned over, trying to make herself comfortable.  Megan was fast asleep, sprawled over more than her half of the bed with her arm draped over Jess’s waist again, but that wasn’t what was keeping her awake.  She had slept in worse places than this, and with far worse bedmates than a pretty girl.  It was just that she had always been plagued by periods of restlessness and insomnia, which her mother had always blamed on her birth month.  It wasn’t good to be born in the spring, when the world was melting from winter to summer, and that indecisiveness was passed on to the children who were born then.  So Alice had always said, though Jess didn't believe it.
She rolled over again, but the bed had grown lumps since the night before.  Tonight, she had undressed down to her underwear, which she’d only kept on because Megan asked her to, and it seemed like every time she moved there was something there to prod her in the back .  After another minute she decided she’d had enough.  She slid out of bed carefully, so she wouldn’t wake Megan, and felt guilty when she heard the girl moan in her sleep and roll into the warm spot that she had left.  She felt under the bed for her bag of clothes, and rummaged around until she found a favorite old shirt that had belonged to her mother.  It came down to just above her knees, making it nearly long enough to serve as a dress by itself, and it was warmer than it looked.
Downstairs, Samantha had built up the fire in the bar lounge until the heat was nearly stifling.  By the time she got to the bottom of the stairs Jess was tempted to go back for lighter clothes, but that would wake Megan up and the child deserved as much peace as she could find.  Instead, she shoved her sleeves back and decided she would twist Samantha’s arm to get something cool to drink.
The orange cat smiled at her when she walked up to the bar and Jess accepted the iced glass that Samantha slid over to her.  It was filled with a thin, clear liquor, with a smell she couldn't identify.
“Anybody else would think you were trying to burn the House down,” Jess said.
“I always have to keep it so cold in here during the day.  I don't think anybody's going to complain if I make myself comfortable when the doors are closed,” Samantha said.
“Wimp.  You get to keep your clothes on all the time,” Jess said.
“I didn’t do this just for myself.  I heard about what happened today and I thought you might come down to see me,” said Samantha.
“Remind me.  What happened today?” Jess said.
“You only did what half the people in the city wish they had the stones to do.  You don't think you're the only one who wants to make that pompous jackass bleed, do you?  Or did you think that kitchen staff wouldn’t watch everything that happened?” Samantha said.
“I wish it had been someone else.  If he hadn’t had his son with him, I think he would have killed me,” Jess said.
She pulled herself up onto one of Samantha’s high barstools and took a mouthful of the liquor.  It tasted bitter and it made the spit thick in her mouth, but she kept drinking.
“You were lucky there.  Richard takes after his mother and he’s got the same sentimental streak she had,” Samantha said.
“I hadn’t noticed,” Jess said.
“I guess that’s why you went to breakfast with him, then?” Samantha said.
“Is the whole city talking about that, too?”
“Richard Keppler was seen in the public company of a House girl.  I don't know if just saved his reputation, or ruined it forever.”
“Why?  Marcus visits the Houses all the time and nobody bats an eye,” Jess said.
“That isn't the problem. The word on the street is that Richard is sweet on this boy he met in Viridis last year.  They're always together, ” Samantha said.
Jess pushed the glass over to Samantha for a refill.  The cat's fingers brushed hers and lingered just a moment too long before Samantha filled the tumbler to the brim.  Jess's ears burned with embarrassment and she swivelled around on the stool to look out the front window.
“I hope that's true.  I don't know why he came here, but love could still save him,” she said.
Away from the docks, Jaspertree didn’t have a particularly active nightlife, but there were a few people on the streets, slinking along with their collars turned up against the wind.  On the sidewalk just in front of the House itself was a rabbit selling roast potatoes out of a mobile grill that looked like a cross between a wheelbarrow and an oil stove.  He was a handsome, white furred buck with chocolate colored ears and long whiskers.  Jess had seen him out in front of the House before, but up until now it had never occurred to her to wonder why.  She’d been too busy watching him.
“If it weren’t for Megan, I don’t think I would really care what happened.  But I’m supposed to protect her,” she said.
“You can’t save everyone,” Samantha said.
“You can try,” Jess said.
“Sometimes people have to sort things out for themselves,” Samantha said.
“She’s just a little girl.  What else should I do?” Jess said.
Tears stung her eyes and she swiped at them with the sleeve of her shirt, angry and embarrassed because Samantha had seen them.  Samantha gave her a napkin to wipe her face with, which she accepted with as much grace as she was able to muster.
“People are never grateful for anything.  I learned that years ago, back when I was still a kitten.  If there was any justice in the world all those people you helped set free would have come back and gotten you out by now,” Samantha said.
“If there was any justice I wouldn’t be here in the first place.  But here we are and the only thing you can do is suck it up,” Jess said.
She finished her drink and slipped unsteadily down from the stool.  She walked to the door and paused,with one hand on the handle.  She could feel the cold through the glass, pressing against her like a physical weight.  Then there was warmth from behind, as Samantha draped a coat around her shoulders and pressed a coin into her palm.
“You shouldn't drink too much on an empty stomach.  Go and buy yourself something to eat,” said the cat.
Jess gave Samantha a quick kiss on the cheek and slipped out the door before either of them could realize what she'd done.
The wind had dropped, and it wasn’t snowing anymore.  The whole city was still and quiet they might have been the only ones still breathing.  The air felt crystalized, like it would shatter as she moved through it.  The sidewalk had been scraped clean of snow in front of the House but it was so cold  her toes felt numb after three steps.
The rabbit looked up at her as she approached and flapped the lid of his grill at her so the smell of potatoes, cheese and hot butter washed over her.  But he did so automatically, without any enthusiasm, and she could see why.  Every street vendor kept a glass jar on the top of their carts for tips and spare change.  His was empty except for a couple of one cent pieces and what looked like a steel washer.  He grew more interested in her as she approached, but she could tell he was trying not to be too obvious about staring at her.  It may have been simple courtesy.  When you were trying to sell something it was good sense not to make your customer feel uncomfortable, even if she was a House girl wearing nothing more than shirt and jacket, but she could see the blush rising in his ears.  It was rare for a male to get flustered by her before they were in the bedroom.  She gave him a smile, because some habits were too hard to break for her as well, and she flourished a coin.
“I’d like two, please,” she said.
The rabbit swallowed visibly and forced himself to look from the coin to her face.
“Two, ah, miss?  Yes, of course.  But they’re only ten cents each, and I haven’t got enough change for a dollar,” he said.
“How about this.  You give me one and take one for yourself, and count the rest as a tip,” she said.
“I can’t.  I’ve never taken charity from anyone and I’m not going to take your money without giving you fair value in return,” he said.
She dropped the coin in his change jar and they both watched it bounce and wobble around the other coins in the bottom.  The rabbit lunged for the jar when the coin stopped spinning but she put her hand on the top so the only thing his fingers closed on was her wrist.  There was no strength to his grip, and she could feel him trembling.
“I can’t.  They’d call it begging, you know that,” he said.
“It isn’t, though. Not if you give me something in return,” she said.
“What business is it of yours?” he said.  
“I don’t want to see someone starve to death on my front doorstep.  That’s what makes it my business,” she said.
He grumbled at her but he opened the grill and flicked a roast potato out onto the napkin he held in his right hand.  He cut the potato open, doused it with melted butter from a small metal pitcher hooked to the side of the grill and stuffed a couple of thick slices of cheese into the middle.  He gave it to her a bit gingerly, not wanting to touch her again, and she took it in both hands.  She licked a dribble of butter off of her wrist, but she waited until he’d made a second one for himself before she took a bite.
They both stood close to the grill to keep warm while they ate and the rabbit stoked up the fire with little pieces of wood that looked like they had been broken off of shipping crates, to keep them comfortable.  The simple food, which had the familiar taste of woodsmoke that always reminded her of her mother’s cooking, warmed her as much as the fire did.  It calmed her and made her feel drowsy and she shut her eyes for a moment to breathe in the smell of it.  For the first time in she didn't know when, she felt safe.
When she finished, she licked her buttered fingers and grinned when she opened her eyes in time to see the rabbit take another potato out of the grill.
“Why do you come here, of all places?  You’d do a lot better down on the docks,” she said.
The rabbit waved a non-committal hand.
“It’s too cold down there, and I promised I’d keep an eye on my niece as best as I could,” he said.
“In here?” asked Jess.
Exhaustion was making it hard for her to think, but something stirred in her memory and realization dawned.
“You mean Heather, don’t you?  She’s the girl who just came in two months ago, who never says a word to anyone.  Oh damn,” she said.
	She put her hands over her mouth.  It was difficult to see the rabbit clearly in the flickering light of the lamp overhead, but the raw anger that had flashed across his face was unmistakeable.
“I’m not allowed to see her unless I pay.  I have to rent my own niece for an hour, just to say two words to her,” he said.  
He hung the butter cup back on the side of the grill, spilling melted grease on the sidewalk, and bent down to unlock the wheels of his cart.  With the lid of the grill down the smell of the cooking potatoes was barely noticeable, but since she had come outside, the smell of woodsmoke had been getting stronger, until it stung the inside of her nostrils.  It made her uneasy, but she wasn’t sure why.  Most of the buildings along Silver Street were still heated with wood fires, and with no wind to take the smoke away it only made sense that the smell would increase.
To distract herself, she knelt down beside the rabbit, to help him unstick the last wheel clamp, which he had been struggling with for several minutes now.  He hesitated when she put her hands next to his, but neither of them drew back.
“She told me about you,” he said.
Now Jess felt a blush creeping up through her ears, and she ducked her head so he wouldn’t see.  She tugged on the clamp’s locking lever, and the thing moved easily in her hands.  The rabbit leaned closer to her, until the tips of his whiskers tickled her cheek.
“Is it true that you help people, like they say?” he said.
“Probably not like people think.  I’ve paid off a few debts, but they were small ones or almost paid off already.  I comfort who I can, and make sure that nobody goes hungry or cold.  It’s nothing to get your hopes up about,” she said.
“But you will help her?” said the rabbit.
Jess bit her lip and got to help him stow the clamps on his cart.  She wanted to tell him about Megan and all the trouble she was probably in because of the girl.  She wanted to beg him to wait, to say that she would help him, but only after things were back to normal and she had gotten away with her theft.
She was saved from having to answer him by the sound of glass breaking.  There was a burst of shouting from the direction of the House and a deeper crack, like the sound of wood splitting.  The smell of burning wood was so thick now that it made her sneeze, and when she turned to look at the house she could see plumes of smoke rising from the east side.