Nikki lingered to help Insomnia pack up their gear and haul it to the back door to wait for Wulf, then added her own hands to get it all loaded.

“Coming along?” Wulf asked.

“I don’t want you to have to detour,” Nikki said.

“So we’ll let you off where we’d have to. Done it before and I’m sure we’ll do it again.”

“In,” Keri said, pointing at the carriage.

Nikki spread both hands in defeat, and climbed inside. Sure, it meant the bench was a little tight, with her and Keri and Tessa, but if she could survive the various tight spaces Lane kept putting her in, then she could handle close contact with a couple of friends.

And, well, it was more direct than the circuitous streetcar route she’d otherwise have to take to get even remotely into the right part of town.

Insomnia lived in Whitesmith Square; Nikki’s boarding house was in the next district over, Shepherd’s Hill. To reach either from here meant passing through two other districts. At least at this hour the traffic was lighter: the daytime deliveries to consumers had finished for the day and the overnight deliveries to businesses hadn’t started. Not many in Etria could afford the expense of a vehicle and one or more animals to pull it, or even an animal to ride, which forced the wheeled and mounted traffic heavily in the direction of taxis, deliveries, and the city-run streetcars, with human-powered wagons or hand-carts not uncommon but less likely to clog streets. It would probably be just an unbearable crawling monster smothering the whole city if most people had their own vehicles.

Catching a ride to get across a couple of districts fairly directly and quickly, however, wasn’t something she could object to much.

“I really like the new song,” Nikki said. “It’s fun to dance to. And the words are all sensual and fluid and playful. Think you can do either a longer version, or run it together with another one, and I’ll do something with it at the Vixen?”

“We can manage either,” Keri said. “Whichever one you’d prefer.”

“If you think about it,” Tessa said, “and we think about it, and we compare notes at rehearsal next week, I’m sure we can come up with something fairly quickly you can use for the next show. Melody and lyrics aside, the beat emphasis is a little different but it keeps the usual four-beat time. You should be able to work with that to come up with a rough idea, right?”

“Definitely, although there are parts of the melody and the lyrics I specifically want to time some moves with. I don’t think it’s going to be hard. Which is good. The odd new routine that’s quick and easy without demanding hours of choreography and rehearsal means that much more time I can volunteer to do extra shifts so Robin doesn’t have to do them all.”

“I don’t know where Corvan would find more hours in a day,” Keri said. “Honestly, I don’t know how she keeps up as it is. But the rest of us will help.”

“Between the eight of us,” Tessa said, “surely we can keep our part of the Vixen functioning smoothly, and make sure one seven-year-old has a happy birthday, all without anyone overdoing it and harming themself.”

“If we can’t,” Nikki chuckled, “then I think all eight of us fail at being independent adults in modern Etria. We’ll manage, and no one else ever has to know if we’re occasionally straining a bit and getting out of breath as long as we make it look good.”

Wulf drew the carriage to a halt, and Dain called, “Nikki? Your stop.”

Nikki wriggled free and hopped down to the sidewalk.

“You’re okay from here?” Keri asked, before Nikki closed the door.

“The streetcar stop is a block and a half away,” Nikki assured her. “I’m fine. See you tomorrow, Tess!”

The only other wheeled traffic in sight consisted of a couple of cycle-taxis, one single-horse taxi, and an open-bed two-horse wagon full of barrels. There were other pedestrians, since it wasn’t even midnight yet and while daytime was popular for working, the cooler evening and night were when people did all the things that gave them a reason to work, but since this was primarily a residential area, even those weren’t terribly dense.

Nikki kept an alert eye out for anyone getting uncomfortably close, listening intently for disruptions in the normal rhythms of the city at this hour.

Loud laughter was her first warning; a woman across the street who had a different field of view stepped off the street into an alleyway, and that was a second red flag.

Maybe not red. She recognized the source of the disturbance. It was inevitable that people who shared a cultural background attracted towards each other, and not far from here there was a shop that sold the traditional foods and, she thought, several other local goods, from one specific culture. While she wasn’t worried about being physically attacked, groups of men had an annoying tendency to shout unpleasant things at women—things in keeping with their own culture’s belief that ‘good’ women stayed out of sight and any woman with bare skin was selling sex and that was somehow bad. It could get a lot more foul-mouthed if they realized she was epicene. The men of that culture—and people in general of several other cultures, in fact—really needed to figure out that this was not their homeland and while the members of their culture could behave however felt right to them, no one else in Etria was obliged to share their values and no one really wanted to hear their opinions.

She was in a good mood. It had been a fun night. She really didn’t feel like having it spoiled by that kind of nonsense.

Fortunately, there were alternate routes home.

She was less intimately familiar with this part of the city core than she was Fortune Street where she’d grown up, Harbourview and Old Bridge and Oldmarket that adjoined it. Since she’d moved, she’d had more to lose by an injury and she’d been more careful.

She still knew it better than most. And here, there were no unbroken walls of townhouses lining the streets. Shepherd’s Hill was free-standing buildings, often small houses with limited space around them, but even the width of a hand between your house and those of your neighbours was a status symbol. A few were larger or had more room or both. Some of the large houses were now boarding houses instead of single-family homes, and there was a recent trend towards purpose-built structures made up of several independent apartments. All of that gave her plenty to work with.

That ornate bronze fence gave her footholds to get up on top of the roof of a single-story porch, and from there onto the brick wall that separated that yard from the one behind it, and while that wall changed several times as it crossed multiple yards, she knew it would take her over to the next street. She paused, a hand on the porch roof for balance, to strip off her boots and the socks beneath and shove them in her bag. Walking the walls was easy enough, but not in heels.

Just because it was flashy and jingly and could snag easily, she untied the scarf around her waist, wound it around itself, and tucked that into her bag as well, which pretty much took up the last of the space.

In no particular hurry, she followed the wall, jumping up or down or across as necessary to navigate the differences and the occasional gate. She could hear the laughter of the men she’d wanted to avoid fading behind her, and smiled in satisfaction. Sometimes, childhood adventures and the skills learned on them could be useful.

She should jump back down to street level, put her boots back on, and catch the streetcar as she’d intended.

On the other hand, the streetcar didn’t head towards home in a straight line and she’d still have to walk a couple of blocks at the far end. She was already up here...

She wasn’t really dressed for a vigorous run, and clothes were expensive to replace but necessary for her job. A roll would utterly destroy this top, and it would be easy to rip the fabric over her knees if she let them make contact with anything. Even her bag would throw her off-balance. And if she got hurt, thanks to a fractional misjudgement or a loose brick that gave way, it wouldn’t disrupt only her own performance, it would interfere with everyone else’s. This whole business of being responsible and part of a team had its drawbacks at moments.

She could keep it slow and gentle and be careful, though, and head directly for home, more or less as the raven flew. There was no need to challenge herself or show off. She’d had enough of that at the Gauntlet, and working at the Vixen fed that itch quite comfortably. Besides, the street structure out here was going to slow her and force her back to the ground more often than the tangled labyrinth and often narrow byways of Fortune Street. There was a more consistent grid layout, though there were places that were exceptions that she could potentially use. If she took the right path, one she could see unfolding in her mind as she pondered, then it should actually be easy.

Much easier than the runs she still did now and then over in her old home territory, just to work off some energy and stay in shape and enjoy the thrill—but she made sure she was dressed appropriately for those, and she knew the terrain much better.

She jumped down onto a stone bench and from there to the street, crossed it, and used the branch of a citrus tree and a convenient decorative row of protruding bricks to get up onto the back garden walls of the next block.

Not long after, she cat-climbed along a slanted railing, only her hands and bare feet touching the metal that still held hints of the sun’s warmth, and did a neat flip over the end down to the sidewalk. She straightened her clothes, and smiled in satisfaction. Home was right there, across the street and half a block down, so close it wasn’t even worth putting her boots back on.

‘Home’ was quite a large house with a relatively enormous back garden. It wasn’t red brick; it was made of pale bluish-grey limestone blocks, with decorative touches in a deep yellowish-gold limestone that was more local. Instead of the common approach of trying to insulate against the heat by using primarily windows that were long and narrow and horizontal, the architect had taken the alternative route of planning deep windows and interior walls in a way that created cooling cross-breezes without glaring sun, and angled awnings of lacy bronze further shaded the windows without blocking the movement of air.

Nikki, coming here to see about an available room, had been sure as soon as she saw it that it was going to be out of her league and a wasted trip.

It was her endlessly good fortune that the landlady had simply decided she liked her.

She fished her keys out of her bag and let herself in the front door.

The broad hallway beyond offered access to everything. Bare feet made no sound on the checkerboard tiles of gold and brown as she followed it to the back of the house.

The kitchen was the biggest she’d ever seen other than the one at the Vixen. Windows made it bright during the day, the greened bronze awnings over them deflecting the direct glare; at night, it felt welcoming and cozy despite the size. Eva always left one gas lamp on for her. The other tenants, who worked various overnight shifts, would already be gone if they worked tonight, and not return until the sky began to grow paler, but Nikki’s normal schedule ran a few hours earlier. She left her bag on a stool at the counter.

In the gas-powered icebox, the newest style, there was always a meal waiting for her. While helping herself to a glass of wonderfully cold water with mint leaves in it, she took out the plate, and peeked under the waxed linen sealing it. It held two thin flexible flatbreads that would be sure to have something tasty wrapped up inside of them. Perfect for a warm day and to replenish all the energy she’d used tonight.

Insomnia’s music was wonderful to dance to, but sometimes, even at venues known for offering a space to do it in, people were a bit shy about taking the lead. Nikki couldn’t recall ever being shy about dancing, however. If she could help them out by making sure that, at the beginning and after both short breaks, she was on the dance floor and smiling at people to encourage them to come join her, it was absolutely worth it; if accepting the hands Tessa and Dain offered her and bouncing up on stage to turn that into an impromptu performance got the audience cheering and excited, it was all good. It was less tiring than a proper show or rehearsal, but something to eat would still be welcome.

She washed her hands in the sink, then perched on one of the stools at a section of counter that extended into the middle of the kitchen to enjoy her water and her meal. The flatbreads had been filled with cold poultry of some kind cut up small and a mixture of fresh vegetables, along with a different kind of shredded cheese in each.

Comfortably full, she left the plate in the sink and refilled her glass to take it with her and turned off the light, scooping up her bag on the way to the stairs.

A second flight of stairs led up to the third floor, once probably meant as a bedroom and playroom for children, but now the combined bedroom and sitting room of her landlady Eva and Eva’s husband Hugh, who was a senior city engineer. There was light visible around the door, but there was no reason to disturb them. She went instead to her own room, unlocked the door, and closed it behind her.

A clever invention from a couple of decades ago, which of course Eva had installed everywhere, was a device that automatically created a spark when turning on a gas lamp, so there was no fussing around and all that was needed was the touch of a single button to brighten the room. There were nights she wasn’t sure she’d have bothered with the lights if it were any more complex.

It was generously large, not crowded despite holding a bed, a wardrobe, a tall chest of drawers, a small table with a chair, a dressing table with a bench, and even a more comfortable chair under the window—but they had been carefully arranged, to allow access while wasting as little space as possible. She set the water on the table, her bag on the chair, and sank down on the edge of the chair near the window. On a makeshift set of shelves constructed from bricks and boards, tucked under the window, her collection of pulp adventure novels were easily accessible—especially Ennis Anvester’s. Jenna had promised that there would be a new one soon. She was looking forward to it.

Right now, curling up in her chair to enjoy the view of the moon and re-read an old favourite while sipping her minty water sounded like the right way to finish a good day.

She levered herself to her feet and stripped off her clothes, wrapping herself instead in her comfortable robe and tying the belt. The clothes went into a basket at the foot of her bed, since no one wanted her serving their meal at the Vixen in clothes she’d been sweating in. A substantial percentage of her income went to clothes and makeup and accessories, whether for onstage performance or for her night waiting tables. While nothing was absolute, those were typically feminine by most cultural standards, and they heavily dominated her wardrobe. It didn’t leave much of a budget for masculine clothes. Not none, but not much.

Fortunately, she didn’t care. When not actually performing or doing something else involving dancing like tonight, it was all the same to her most of the time.

With her basket of toiletries, she visited the bathroom down the hall.

The padded bench from the dressing table made an excellent footstool, she knew from experience. She dragged that over, moved her water to the windowsill, and settled herself in her chair. Getting into bed before she had a chance to just let her whole body and mind relax would be pointless, but this, just for a little while, would take care of that. She leaned down to contemplate her collection of books, some of them read often enough to show it, and picked up one she hadn’t read in some time.

Teenaged Nikki had been ambitious but not always realistic: she’d fantasized about performing at one of the Alabaster Court theatres to cheering crowds and becoming a household name.

Adult Nikki knew that Alabaster Court was incredibly unlikely for a self-taught modern dancer, and it didn’t particularly bother her. In an overcrowded and growing city not quite able to keep up on housing or jobs, she had a place to live that she adored and a steady reliable job that paid her a comfortable amount despite the associated expenses. That job let her do what she most loved doing and had spent her entire life working towards, and she got to do it with people she liked under a manager who tried to look out for all his people as well as the business as a whole. If there were temporary periods that were more of a challenge, like compensating for being down one resident, that was only a small bump.

She knew things could change quickly—but she hoped fervently that this didn’t, not for a long time.

That's it for Around the Vixen posts! They're just a quick snapshot of most of the central characters soon before the actual story begins. I hope you enjoyed the preview peek at them. The proper full epic will be released as soon as it's finished and properly edited right to the very end, since I'm not wasting your time with anything less. I can't give you even a tentative date, but so far so good on the first draft, getting into sight of the end!