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Chapter 102

  “Is this your new look then? It’s certainly… unique.”

  Jaeger turned to face Tiber and ran a hand over the silks he wore. Pula had advised him on how to dress the part of the Flesh Trader. In fact, the man had pretty much made himself Jaeger’s number two. For this job, at least it was not unappreciated. During Jaeger’s downtime, but before they left port, the man had managed to acquire a few rolls of silk, and with the reluctant help of a former slave had managed to magic up an outfit.

  Jaeger’s jacket had gone from a firm leather overcoat to a loose, vermilion-red brocade robe; it had wide sleeves and intricate gold embroidery of a peacock with the head of a dog and the claws of a lion. Beneath it, he wore a long tunic-style shirt that stopped at his knees. It was also silk and was quite nice in the warmer weather they’d found themselves sailing through as they drew closer to Danse Macre. His pants were a loose-fitting style that tapered at the ankles, more silk and quite mobile; to the point he was considering them, or a thicker equivalent, as a replacement for his normal pants.

  The shirt and pants were less vibrant in color than his jacket, but were just as rich. He also had the Darkblade across his middle, his stat rings on full display, and a temporary copy of the Flesh Traders tattoo.

  “It’s not my usual look, but it is not the worst disguise I’ve worn.”

  “Oh?”

  “I once had to wear a Draskian mudslingers’ camouflage uniform.”

  “I don’t know what that is, but mud can’t be that bad.”

  Jaeger eyed Tiber.

  “Draskian mudslingers are battlefield scavengers who coat themselves in filth to avoid detection.”

  “Ha. Yes, I imagine this is quite a luxury experience then.”

  Jaeger didn’t bother even to acknowledge that.

  “I heard it even came with a new name?” Tiber continued.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, not a fan?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Fine? If I had a name like Gosvis, I’d… well, I’d probably have turned to some vile crime, I suppose. It’s a bit of a shit name.”

  “According to Palu, it is the one that the Flesh Trader used when he, rare as it was, dealt with people more than once.”

  Jaeger started to move, stretching and checking the outfit’s mobility. As he went through the motions, he found himself, once again, deeply impressed by the clothes.

  “Speaking of, aren’t you concerned about meeting people your mark knew? Unless I miss my mark, we hadn’t but pulled into port before you offed him, and we had to sail away.”

  “The Flesh Trader, Gosvis, did not bother remembering anyone’s faces, names, or anything about them. In fact, according to Palu, he would routinely pretend to forget someone after leaving and then reentering a room, simply because he could.”

  “If for no other reason, it sounds like you did the realm a favor by killing him.”

  “More than you can imagine,” Jaeger said.

  “You look ready, bounty hunter.” A new voice called out.

  Turning towards her, Jaeger eyed Kaeleth’s outfit. She wore a tight black dress. It hung from her shoulders and hugged her tight, emphasizing her while also hiding her; literally. The dress somehow blocked any real view of her body while drawing the eye; it was an impressive feat of magic. She’d also changed herself; her eyes were now blood red, and her skin pale with a faint redish hue.

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  “You too.”

  With a raised eyebrow, Kaeleth stepped closer to him in her heeled boots, a concession she’d forced from both Jaeger and Lemuria before they’d left, and poked his chest.

  “Is that all you have to say?”

  “Did you read up on the target?”

  She sighed deeply before looking at him.

  “Yes. Jean, a naga-kin who hides his naga nature through shape shifting. Recognizable by his unchangeable pink eyes and azure blue inner arm scales. He enjoys drinking, smoking midnight oil, and women; preferably strong elven women.” She held up a new finger with each new fact. “He’s hiding out on Danse Macre under Duke Chevalia’s protection. Did I miss anything?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Now,” She smoothed the front of her dress and posed for him. “Anything to say?”

  Looking her over, a slight smirk ran across Jaeger’s lips before disappearing like a mirage.

  “Can you change my eye color?”

  Kaeleth narrowed her eyes and glared at him, before spinning and facing Tiber, who’d started quietly laughing at Jaeger’s response.

  “Something to say, darkling?”

  The laughter died as her pulsating pupils locked onto him.

  “You look ravishing, my dear. The perfect example of a blood elf witch.” He said with a shaky, low bow.

  She snorted at that, then turned back to Jaeger.

  “That’s how you’re supposed to respond.”

  “Noted. Now my eyes?”

  Kaeleth glared at him, but was met with stone-faced indifference.

  “Yes, I can change your eye color.”

  “For how long?”

  “For something that small months, or until someone dispels it.”

  Jaeger nodded.

  “Good, change my eye color to the same shade of yellow as the Flesh Traders.” That haunting yellow was a color he’d never forget, though he paused. “You do remember what his eyes look like?”

  She shook her head.

  “No, but you do, and my magic will use that. Visualize the color, focus on it in your mind. On your word, I will cast.”

  He took a moment and pictured the eyes. The haunting yellow of those eyes, almost like a cat’s, but one that knew only malice and cruelty.

  “Ready.”

  With a snap of her fingers and a muttered word, Jaeger felt his eyes burn as though they’d been splashed with alcohol. He closed them and felt tears well up before the pain passed. Blinking, he rubbed the tears from his eyes and looked at Kaeleth and Tiber.

  “How do they look?”

  “Ghastly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that color before, even the worst elven senator has more compassion than those eyes.” Tiber said.

  “If you envisioned the yellow eyes of a human devoid of everything that makes them human, then they are perfect,” Kaeleth replied, moving around his head to examine his eyes from every angle.

  “Do you have a mirror?”

  Tiber pulled out a compact mirror and handed it to Jaeger.

  “I want that back.”

  Ignoring the darkling, Jaeger examined himself and was pleased with the results. His eyes were the same shade as the Flesh Traders. With this, his disguise was complete.

  “Cap’t! We’re nearing the port now! A couple of cutters are coming to meet us! Packed full of armed men, what’s the word?”

  Jaeger rolled his shoulders, cleared his throat, before adopting a more pompous tone, reminiscent of the Flesh Trader.

  “Tell your men to get within distance of the cutters. I believe our escort has arrived. I shall speak with them.” Satisfied that his directions would be followed, Jaeger turned and walked toward the front of the ship, where the escorts could see him.

  “Oh, aye aye sir. Yes, sir, no sir, three bags full sir.” Tiber called out, and the snap of his feet together for a tidy salute rang out.

  Jaeger, embracing his inner Gosvis, didn’t deign to reply to the darkling captain. Instead of his way to a well-seen spot, he looked for his companion. When he saw her, he let a cold smile light across his face.

  “My dear, come along.”

  Kaeleth seemed caught off guard by his words; a look of disgust and wariness crossed her face. She stared at him just long enough for a dread silence to build before she tilted her head, as though hearing something, and she changed. Her disgust and wariness softened to a professional demeanor as did her stance; her predator’s grace became something more guarded.

  “I told you not to call me that. I’m not some floozy or mistress of yours. You hired me as a bodyguard, nothing else.”

  The two of them had agreed that since their target was interested in strong elven women, the best way to convey that, and hide her more roguish nature, was to have her be a pretty personal guard to Jaeger.

  “Come now, surely we are close enough for pet names. Not to mention I also hired you to wear a magical dress and pretend to have a good time.”

  She laughed at him.

  “We are not close enough, and we shall never be close enough for pet names.”

  Jaeger rolled her eyes.

  “Fine, Samicent,” He said, emphasizing her name. “A naval escort is coming, and we must be seen lest they decide to sink our captain’s ship.”

  She moved beside him, close enough to act but not enough to touch.

  “Lead the way.”

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