Chapter 22 – Locking In

  Demi

  Demi left the party, making a detour before returning to the guild. If anyone would be dealing in black market dragonquartz, it would be the barely-legal arcaneries that cropped up well away from market street. She first visited her estate to shed her jewelry and change into her simpler purple dress. One would be daft to simply stroll into such a place wearing a treasure chest. After changing, she left out of the eastern exit of the Noble Quarter.

  Radavan had names and associations, but she needed to figure out the where before sending anyone. The Bottom Quarter in the southeast city contained Woodpine’s almshouses and soup kitchens; and, it was also the area that the guard had standing orders to focus only on keeping the peace. One of her first projects as guildmaster had been to rid the area of its previous kingpin, who had made the mistake of attempting to expand his territory out of the quarter. His rival, to Demi’s knowledge, still had run of the black market; and whoever he was, he was smart enough to both avoid his identity being discovered and keep activities contained.

  Making her way into the quarter, the buildings turned plainer, as did peoples’ dress. Some of the evidence of the Battle of Woodpine showed; a pre-war church with chunks of stonework missing, a boarded-over crack in the road; mis-matched bricks where locals had done their own repairs. Despite the poorness, the air was jovial from the buskers performing their best routines. The bright drone of a hurdy-gurdy mingled with the flittering of a fiddle; together mixed with the excitement of youngsters begging their parents for coppers to pay them.

  Where to start? Ah.

  A pair of orcish men, burly and ruddy-skinned, were staring at her from a nearby alley.

  This was dangerous for her. Though she’d changed, she was still visibly highborn. There wasn’t a point in acting otherwise, either, it required legendary stagecraft when so much as a single elevated word or movement of the shoulders gave one away.

  In fact, Demi decided she needed an escort. She turned around, thinking to return to the guild, and – Olivia?

  The cat-folk had just stepped around the corner of a building down the street, still wearing that armor of hers. Their eyes met. Olivia’s tail bristled, and she looked like she wanted to run back around the building.

  “Morgana’s mace,” Demi sighed to herself. “The goddess of order sends me the feline of chaos.”

  Fine, this was getting fixed now. Demi marched toward her and tried to keep all hint of her annoyance from showing during the approach, as Olivia was again squirming like she was about to be flogged. Before Demi could address her, Olivia began speaking hurriedly.

  “I promise I’m just here to fix my curse please don’t be mad!” Olivia cried. “It’s a fairy curse and I need a special rock for it and I was coming here to-”

  “Olivia, enough,” Demi was firm. “I was never going to be angry about you having a curse.”

  Olivia stopped squirming and gained a look of confusion.

  “While I’m displeased you weren’t forthcoming about it,” Demi said, “I understand why. Olivia, I would have helped you fix it.”

  There was true shock on the cat-folk’s face. She uttered: “you would?”

  “Yes!” Demi said, her exhasperation breaking through. “Being stuck in your armor must be miserable! I don’t want people doing work for me to be miserable! Look, I’m starting to see why you commoners are so mistrustful of us, but I’m-”

  Olivia looked at Demi odd as the countess suddenly struggled. It wasn’t easy to vocalize a true feeling she wasn’t meant to feel.

  “I’m not like those other nobles,” Demi finally managed it. “I’m – I would like to be different from them, at least.”

  “Um,” Olivia searched for her own words. “For what it’s worth, when we first met – you reminded me to bow, instead of letting me forget and getting mad later. That’s different! And uh – you’re also not getting upset I forgot this time too!”

  Demi couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “How about this, Olivia,” Demi offered. “Let’s forget the bowing. I think I’m more exhausted by it than the commonfolk at this point.”

  Olivia gave an enthusiastic nod. For the first time, the cat-folk appeared properly herself and relaxed. Good.

  “I’m still your superior in terms of duty, however,” Demi continued. “I need an escort through this area, I’m investigating some – city business.”

  “Oh, I’m not really a-” Olivia began.

  “I know, but you’re armored and sure-footed,” Demi said, “it’s enough. While we’re here, I can fund whatever is needed to fix your curse.”

  The cat-folk mastered some welling sentiment and stiffened into a dramatic salute.

  “Right! I’m with you!” Olivia said with conviction.

  * * *

  Demi had spent the past year cutting her teeth on all manner of organized crime. Most of the guild’s operations were straightforward enough to run themselves; but, deposing the previous shadow ruler of the quarter in a way that didn’t disrupt the entire city had taken nuance. Nuance, and much, much research. The problem with finding illicit stores wasn’t one of location, it was of recognition. There weren’t many ways to physically hide an emporium of stolen arcana if you wanted to actually sell it to people – it would be disguised as a different, inoffensive kind of store.

  Well, it certainly wouldn’t be with this elderly man before them, his collection of random trinkets spread upon a blanket. Demi turned to leave without a word, marking off a street in her mental map. She thought briefly about offering him silvers; but, that never led to anything good. Someone would see her do it and decide it should happen for them and their friends as well, and there’d be a mob around them in minutes. The man looked fed enough, regardless – Demi silently thanked the new shadow lord for their cooperation keeping violence away from the kitchens.

  “What are we looking for, exactly?” Olivia asked, walking by Demi’s side.

  “We’re looking for my presence to make someone nervous,” Demi said. “By now, the syndicate will know I’m investigating something. Nothing will happen until I get close to them, though. After all, I may not be here for their trouble.”

  Olivia looked around after hearing that and said: “we’re being watched? Wait, I do see someone staring! He’s not being careful about it at all!”

  “Yes, they want me to see it,” Demi said. “If they don’t demonstrate that they’re operating, Dotour might lose confidence in the arrangement.”

  “Aren’t they doing crimes, though?” Olivia asked.

  “They are doing many crimes,” Demi confirmed. “And they’re preventing worse crimes; the kinds of things that would result in squadrons of castlegard roaming these streets all day. That compounds into even bigger issues.”

  “Huh, I didn’t know stuff like that actually happened,” Olivia remarked. “I guess that part of Laric the Rogue was true, then.”

  Demi reeled hearing the title. Really, the commonfolk went in for that stuff too?

  “While those tales are tripe, their author was certainly involved in the real thing,” Demi said.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Oh, that makes Laric hotter,” Olivia said easily. Then she remembered herself. “Er, more dashing.”

  Ah, that’s where the popularity came from.

  “He’s not my type, but I see the appeal,” Demi smirked.

  When they turned down the next street, a crowd had gathered around an elven man making animated gestures. He stood near a boulder with a longsword embedded within. Someone was trying unsuccessfully to wrench the sword free.

  “Oh!” Olivia started. “It’s the Arthur game!”

  “A very flashy scam,” Demi said, “let’s keep going.”

  “No-no, there’s a trick! Watch!” Olivia said.

  Before Demi could stop Olivia, the cat-folk approached the display. The man trying to pull the sword free gave a heavy grunt, sighed, and gave up to polite applause.

  “So close!” The elf running the scheme called. “I swear I saw it jiggle! Okay, who’s next?”

  “Me! Me!” Olivia was eager. Demi decided not to interfere.

  “Got a silver for me?” The man put his hand out.

  “Um, how about this?” Olivia answered, then pulled a wrapped salami from her pouch.

  “Well this cat knew I was hungry! Good thing it’s high-grade,” He got a laugh from the crowd. “Okay, okay. Go for it!”

  Olivia gave the man her salami and approached the stone. The cat-folk put her paws on the sword’s hilt, then traced them down the blade and onto the stone. After a few seconds, Olivia rubbed up and down the boulder, feeling around it.

  This made the elf frown nervously.

  “You should buy the rock a drink first!” The man cried, getting another laugh. “Come on lady, start pulling!”

  Olivia gained a confident expression, then grabbed the sword’s hilt in both hands again. She put her knee against the boulder, pressed her weight into it, and then tugged dramatically.

  Shing!

  The longsword came free. Olivia held it over her head while the crowd clapped. The elf seemed quite displeased, he lost his stage presence.

  “Alright alright,” the man grumbled. “Put it back in.”

  “What?” Olivia asked. “Don’t I get to keep the sword? That’s how the ga-”

  “You don’t get to keep the sword!” the man groused. He fished something from his pocket and offered it to Olivia, who slid the sword back into place with disappointment.

  “Here’s your fantastic prize,” the elf’s stage voice returned. “A genuine stone gnome lockpick!”

  Demi saw the device, a thin rod of metal with interlinked gears. Olivia’s disappointment vanished, she eagerly took it and said: “I’ve always wanted one of these! Thank you so much!”

  “Yeah okay,” the elf said. He addressed the crowd: “that’s it for now folks, I’m gonna eat, everyone scram off politely.”

  Olivia rejoined Demi and began to explain the mechanisms, but something in the elf’s look distracted her. He glanced her way pointedly while he unwrapped the meat.

  The dragonquartz isn’t us, the man’s voice entered Demi’s mind through the weave. This again.

  Who? Where? Demi thought in response.

  Don’t know, big players, the man returned. Check Finnigan’s, around the bend. You could die.

  That was all, the man took an animated bite of his meal.

  “… so you can find the right spot to raise the lever! It slides right out; it’s not really a test of strength at all!” Olivia finished her explanation.

  “Hm?” Demi uttered. “Right, yes – clever, let’s proceed.”

  Demi crossed her arms, continuing on. The road curved eastward, where she spotted a sign with a fox’s silhouette above a modest storefront, reading Finnigan’s. The windows were too foggy to see in, but the door stood open to reveal a cramped space for wares.

  “Olivia, hold a moment,” Demi said. “That man spoke to me through the weave and said to check this place.”

  Olivia eyed the window and said: “yeah, definitely crimes in there.”

  “They’re not with the syndicate,” Demi said. “We can use that. They won’t know who we are. I’m going to pretend to be a dragonquartz buyer.”

  The cat-folk nodded, adopting a serious expression.

  “Okay, and what should I pretend to be?” Olivia asked.

  “I want you to pretend you’re my bodyguard,” Demi said, “and firstly you’re interested in getting one of those stones.”

  “Isn’t that just reality?” Olivia blinked. Then: “right, locking in.”

  Inside were two tables arranged with items of questionable origin, a counter at the far end, and a door behind. As they entered, the far door opened to reveal a fox-folk man in a commoner’s green robe, wearing a friendly smile.

  “Howdy fancy folks,” the fox said, “welcome to Finn’s.”

  Demi laid her Rhodean accent on.

  “My bodyguard is searching for a-” Demi snapped commandingly at Olivia. “What was it again?”

  Olivia seemed taken aback at the sudden shift, stammering out: “pandispelly stone! Erm, for fairy curses. I need to clear one I picked up protecting the Lady from an encroaching primal.”

  As Olivia spoke, her voice and posture firmed.

  “Ah,” Finn said, with a long glance at Demi.

  “I don’t give a shit where it’s from,” Demi said dismissively. “I’m not paying what Fizbaun wants.”

  “Right, then, perhaps I can help,” Finn said. “I could be convinced to go check the back if I saw some shinies.”

  Demi unfastened her coin pouch on the way to the counter and placed down a disc of platinum, holding her finger upon it.

  “Shiny enough?” Demi asked, pointedly taking it back. As she did, she glanced at a small table behind the counter laden with documents. One of them had a familiar seal.

  “And while you’re back there,” Demi continued, refocused on him, “I’m interested in acquiring dragonquartz for myself.”

  “Well,” Finn said, “I can tell you’ve got the coin, but that’s a tall ask of a humble fox!”

  “I just said I don’t care about the legalities,” Demi pressed. “Are you interested in real money or not?”

  “It’s not that,” Finn said, casually moving toward the back door. As he did, he moved an empty mug over the seal Demi had spotted. “If I, hypothetically speaking, had some; it would be reserved.”

  “Reserved?” Demi became demanding. “Reserved for who?”

  This was the key. If she could figure out which of Radavan’s suspected families was involved in this, they could apply pressure up the chain to the Florentines.

  “I’m afraid I can’t really reveal that,” Finn said, paused by the door.

  The room sat in a long moment of heavy silence.

  Demi weighed pushing him further.

  She decided she wouldn’t get another opportunity like this.

  “I demand you tell me-” Demi began.

  “Lady Delacroix!” Olivia said, prompting Demi to glance around. Two men, clad in Bavolian attire and armed with swords, approached the store’s entrance.

  “Hm, tough luck,” Finn said.

  Demi hesitated, unsure of what to do. She glanced at Olivia and saw that the cat-folk similarly stood frozen.

  “Olivia!” Demi said, “we need to run!”

  The command seemed to snap Olivia out of her trance.

  “There’s a back exit!” Olivia called.

  Demi wheeled around to see Finn blocking the back door with his body. The fox-folk’s smug look turned to sudden panic when Olivia sprang over the counter at him. She hissed and raked her claws across Finn’s face. He grasped at himself and tripped backward across his table. Heavy footsteps came from behind. Demi worked herself over the counter, following Olivia through the back storage. They passed rows of crates, Demi wished she had time to investigate them. Instead, they tore through the side door into an alley.

  One of the men had circled around to block off the street. He advanced on them. Olivia grasped Demi’s wrist, pulling her along behind the building.

  A dead end. Except, not.

  “In there!” Olivia said, pointing to the culvert hole for the building. It angled down into the earth and was scarcely big enough for a person.

  “Fucking lovely,” Demi growled, “you first, then. Go!”

  Olivia had no trouble despite her armor, gliding down out of view in a moment.

  Demi had trouble, she wasn’t a cat. She was also larger. The countess had her hips through the opening when the man rounded the corner. He spotted her and shouted something during his advance.

  “Olivia! Pull me!” Demi commanded. She felt grasping at her feet, then, tugging at her ankles.

  Demi’s vision went dark as her head slid in. Her head hooked backward suddenly, feeling a gloved hand grasp one of her ringlets. Tugging pain accompanied the man’s frantic pulling.

  “Got the bitch!” the man shouted.

  Demi reacted by jerking her chin toward her chest. The lock of hair ripped free of her scalp with a painful snap, allowing Olivia to wrench her the rest of the way down.

  This was where chamber pots were emptied. It smelled as such. It was cramped and quite foul in this space, and Demi had twist herself to allow Olivia onto her hands and knees. A channel of running water flowed between them, leading deeper into the culverts. Up above, the men uttered curses. Both were too broad to follow.

  “I know it’s gross-” Olivia began.

  “Just move,” Demi commanded.

  Olivia crawled on her hands and knees down the passage with Demi, and they soon emerged into the main channel beneath the quarter, where there was space to stand properly. Flowing water moved between two stone aisles in the stretching tunnel, intersecting with the adjoining tunnels that formed the city’s culvert system. She’d never been here personally, but it was said to connect with the ancient dwarven ruin that’d been found under the city.

  “Wow,” Olivia marveled, “I guess I never thought about where that stuff went.”

  “Indeed,” Demi said, daring not look at her dress. “Foul as it was, that was a good idea. Right from a Laric tale.”

  Olivia smiled, despite things.

  “It was weird, once you yelled at me it was like I knew what to do,” Olivia said. Then, she looked at her blood-flecked claws. “Oh, I really got that guy good, huh? I hope he’s okay.”

  “You hope he’s okay?” Demi questioned. “The man who tried to have us killed?”

  “Well,” Olivia fidgeted, “a lot of the reason I freeze up is because I don’t really like hurting things. I didn’t think about it back there, though – maybe because I was focused on protecting you? I was in bodyguard character really hard!”

  The countess had to consider that.

  “Then,” Demi said, “stay in character until we’re safe, if that’s allowing you to do what’s needed.”

  Olivia nodded. Demi then glanced down either direction, wondering which would be best.

  “You know, the Laric tales bring something to mind,” Demi thought aloud. “There are probably exits to the river from here.”

  “Oh!” Olivia clapped in recognition. “That fox is selling stuff to the bad guy and might be using this as a way to get it there!”

  The countess chuckled. She imagined what her adventuring brother might think of her cozy work now, covered in filth and crawling around a dark sewer. Really, it was just like fertilizing a field. In fact, it smelled less offensive. If she was supposed to feel viscerally affronted being here, as other highborn might, she did not.

  In actuality, Demi felt a violet rush.

  “Let’s go looking, shall we?” Demi asked, choosing a direction.

  “Alright,” Olivia said, leading the way. “I hope there’s like, a secret passage or something!”