30. Shady Backroom Deals

 After so many nights shivering in a thin bedroll, overheating in the night was a nice change of pace. Caela woke sweaty and disoriented, taking some time to recognise the room she had fallen asleep in.

The situation was in no way helped by the furry, panting furnace lying at the foot of the bed, forcing her into a cramped sleeping position. When Caela reached down to pet Mene, she came away with a handful of shed fur. Apparently he, too, felt the need for a lighter coat.

She met the others in the main hall. Ash was already there, behind a tray of confectionery that was piled up like a miniature ziggurat. The crumbs on her lilac lips and the guilty expression on her face suggested she’d made a head start on breakfast.

Caela tried the offered confectionery, but tapped out after a few slices, the honey-nut texture sticking to the roof of her mouth. Valerios politely substituted his portion for a bowl of last night’s stew. Despite his size, Kazzik came the closest to Ash’s fiendish appetite.

Haspi grinned at them. “You two certainly have a hunger for halva. I make it myself, with seeds from this very garden.”

“You can have the rest,” Lux said, pushing away his plate as soon as their host departed. “I don’t usually have dessert for breakfast.”

“You should fortify yourself,” Valerios advised. “We have a big day ahead of us.”

Caela tried to subtly pick seeds from her teeth, thinking over the plan they’d agreed on the day before: follow the amulet to its intended destination. It seemed simple enough, but… “Isn’t it going to be dangerous?” she asked. “What if the amulet gets activated again?”

Valerios put a small bag on the table, tipping it to show Caela a flash of the amulet hidden inside. It was now in a dozen pieces, the face embossing hammered nearly flat.

“As Mr Harbington recommended, I have destroyed the accursed item. It will still be useful to us, though. Its owners will want to see it, broken or intact, if only to confirm the device has not fallen into enemy hands.”

“And when we find them,” Freija muttered, “oooh…” Her fingers closed around an invisible throat. It was almost comical, except that Caela knew she could back her words up.

“Remember, Miss Freija,” Valerios said warningly, catching Caela’s eye. “We will never find your tree’s attackers if we give the Nephelauts cause to throw us out of the city. Collateral damage is to be kept at an absolute minimum. Can you do that for me?”

Freija looked away, her cheeks reddening under his glare.

“Sure I can,” she huffed.

—

Ash led them up the broad crescent streets of lower Lecorce. The wan light of morning shone upon them, turning the meagre snowfall into slush. Snow sloughed off the higher platforms, occasionally dropping with the drama of a falling chandelier into their path. Caela sidestepped to avoid a burst of falling ice as they came to one of the narrow spires that connected multiple levels. A pointed archway led inside the tower, which appeared to be a single tall room filled with dangling bell-pulls. A single-file staircase spiralled around the outside of the tower, with maybe a hundred stone steps.

Caela saw a woman in a fur stole step up to the entrance and open her purse. She selected a gleaming silver coin and inserted it into a slot in the wall that Caela hadn’t noticed. A moment later, the hole spat out a strip of ribbon like the one Ash had used to operate the carriage. The woman took it and stepped through the arch. Holding a bell-pull in one hand and the ribbon in the other, she glided up through the vertical channel.

Ash turned to her, eyes shining like the last two coins in Caela’s purse. At Caela’s expression, they lost some of their lustre.

“We’ll take the stairs,” Ash said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “A walk will do us good after that breakfast.”

Soon after their stimulating climb, they surveyed their next move. A quick interrogation of Haspi had resulted in a short list of jewellers in the area who might be their ‘Uri’, but it remained a matter of where to start.

Leaning over Caela’s shoulder, Ash surveyed the list. “Hm.” Her lacquered fingertips traced over the addresses, then came to a stop on one. “This one.” Her tone was uncharacteristically certain.

“Why?” Caela wondered, squinting at the name. Uri Goloc.

Ash shrugged, all her bangles jingling. “Just a hunch.”

“A random guess, more like,” Freija muttered, but they traipsed in the direction of the address anyway.

Their destination turned out to be a humble storefront, the sign over the door marked ‘Uri Goloc — Jeweller’. Smaller, newer letters below that read: ‘No Undesirables’.

Valerios moved to rap on the door. Before he could make contact, it jerked open. A figure in a shabby cloak ducked through, rusty curls grazing the doorframe.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, giving them a polite nod. Valerios made way for him to squeeze past. Caela’s sensitive ears picked up something in the three syllables — a mannered drawl, like Kazzik’s languid tone. When he brushed past her, he left the faintest trace of perfume.

When the shop’s patron had passed, they filed inside. Behind the door was a single stuffy room divided by walls of shelving and equipment. A figure shuffled from behind one such divider: a middle-aged dwarf with a pinched face. He was swamped in a dark velvet robe, with a greying goatee oiled to a point, like the drooping end of a cigarette. The rest of his hair was greyer and curlier, forming a bramble circlet around his shiny pate. His rheumy eyes peered at the arrivals with suspicion.

“Whaddayawant?”

Caela looked to Valerios for guidance, but he only nodded encouragingly. Apparently she was the group’s innocent face.

“Are you Uri Goloc?” she ventured.

“That’s right. Customers?”

“We’re from the Steelbeard Caravan,” Caela explained, with her best retail-worker smile. “We have a delivery for you.”

Uri glanced from her to the group huddled in the doorway, his expression changing to one of surprise.

“Come in, then. Shut the door behind you.”

He shuffled over to a work bench, waving her over with one stubby paw.

“You’re late,” he complained.

“Trouble on the road,” Caela smiled apologetically. “We nearly didn’t make it at all.”

“Better late than never, I suppose,” Uri groused, gesturing for the goods.

Valerios revealed the bag containing the amulet, but paused before setting it down. His eyes roamed the shop critically.

“What is the need for haste?” he asked. “For these shady backroom dealings?”

“What are you calling a ‘shady backroom’?” Uri bristled. “This is where I live!”

“Ah.” Valerios looked sheepish. “I see.”

Uri’s mood was not improved when he saw the amulet.

“I’ll certainly not be paying for this!” he cried. “Giant or no giant, I thought you people were supposed to be reliable. Get out of here!”

With a job badly done, they departed. Even though the whole role had been a façade, Caela couldn’t help but feel ashamed.

They hurried up a set of stairs to a higher platform, and leaned over the railing. From this vantage point they were just able to have an aerial view of Uri’ shop.

A construction project was in progress on the other side of the lane. Two familiar men in battered chain mail were digging at the crumbling mortar of a drainage channel, replacing each weathered brick with a fresh one from a wheelbarrow. Their supervisor stood a few feet away, clad in gleaming breastplate over sky-blue jodhpurs. The faceplate of his helmet was transparent, allowing 120-degree views of his disdain. This, and the green plume atop the helm, clearly marked him as a cut above the ragamuffin guards.

Lux tilted his head. “Ain’t that the two guards from the gatehouse? Marky and Parky or whatever?”

Valerios stomped over to the men.

“What is the meaning of this?” he rumbled. “Do you mean to leave the gatehouse undefended while you dig gutters?”

The plumed knight spared him the briefest glance.

“They’re being punished,” he drawled, already looking away.

“On what charge?”

The knight bridled slightly. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he said bluntly. “Move along, citizen.”

“You will address me as Valerios.” The words came with a menacing metallic ring. “And your name is..?”

“Hey! Watch it, cit-”

“NAME AND RANK, SOLDIER!”

Valerios’ words rattled like sabres, shaking something primal within the poor knight. Like a puppet, he snapped to attention, barking:

“Sergeant Camariel Larioc of the 3rd Nephelauts, sir!”

Caela was amazed at the transformation, and Sgt Larioc seemed just as surprised surprised.

Valerios pressed his advantage.

“I am glad you remember that much, Sergeant, even if you have forgotten the importance of decorum in military doctrine. Now, what of these two?”

The Nephelaut relaxed suddenly, rubbing his neck disconcertedly.

“If you must know,” he said plaintively, “they let through a carriage of people last night without the proper checks. And since we’ve been…”

He shot the guards an annoyed glare.

“…Unable to rectify the situation, Corporals Maurice and Marcel will be spending the afternoon replacing this drainage channel.”

Marcel and Maurice were watching the altercation. Caela saw the flash of recognition, but both men kept their mouths shut and quickly bowed their heads when the sergeant looked over.

Valerios sniffed.

“I see. At least you have them doing something productive, sergeant. Perhaps your senses have not totally abandoned you.”

“However,” he continued, reaching for Marcel’s pickaxe, “I am partly responsible, seeing as it was my party that passed into the city unchecked. I will share in the punishment.”

He hefted the tool, which looked novelty-sized in his hands, but the sergeant stepped forwards.

“You can’t do that!” he said, regaining some of his lost authority. “You’re obstructing a Nephelaut. I should clap you in irons just for shouting at me.”

“Why, yes!” Valerios boomed. “Take me before your superiors. Explain to them how your underlings allowed me to breach the city’s defences, in a time where your king is already preoccupied with security. I am sure they will be sympathetic about you taking a full day to report the breach.”

Larioc blanched.

“Or perhaps,” Valerios said, more softly, “we can work out the punishment amongst ourselves. No need to worry your masters, eh?”

The sergeant attempted to touch his forehead, but his hand clinked off the glass faceplate.

“I… suppose that makes sense…” he said haltingly.

“Good!” Valerios clapped him on the shoulder. “Let us begin. Marcel, on my mark you will clear the detritus, and Maurice, you will place a new brick. Sergeant, you may follow behind with the mortar bucket. In this way, we shall all go home sooner.”

Caela caught his eye. The paladin flicked his head towards the balcony, mouthing: Go. The party left Valerios with the work crew as he began calling instructions.

“Clear! Place! Pour!” Crack. “Clear, Place, Pour!”

They returned to their stakeout position. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Uri hurried out of his shop, clutching a familiar bundle. Caela followed close behind, leaving a series of tiny symbols scratched in the masonry for the others to follow later. She trusted her companions implicitly… except when it came to moving unnoticed.

After many double-backs and twisting turns, Uri approached a beautiful shopfront entirely sculpted from glass. Inside, Caela saw glass countertops and glass shelves, all heaving with diamond-encrusted jewellery. Well-groomed shop assistants with equally immaculate clothing and hair did their best to sell items to the elegant customers. Even the floor was made of glass, giving the building the uncanny impression that everyone was just floating in the air.

Uri pushed open the doors, scurried across the glass-bottomed shop floor, and disappeared through a solid door at the back of the room. Evidently there was somewhere the staff wanted to keep out of the sight of customers. While Caela waited for the others to arrive, she watched him slink back out empty-handed.

The others caught up shortly after, variously out of breath. At the various jingling bracelets, clanking armour and careless footsteps, Caela was again grateful that she’d done the stealthy part of the mission alone.

“Arcane Ciel,” Ash said with surprise, reading the sign above the door. “This place is way out of his league. All their pieces are crafted by students from the Mages’ College.”

She looked plaintive.

“Perhaps we could have a look around? Just for the amulet, of course.”

“If we want to follow the amulet,” Kazzik said, “We’ll need to plan our approach. Something quick and subtle. Hmm. I wish Shade was still here.”

“No you don’t,” Freija said curtly, but Kazzik just grinned at her.

“We could split up,” Lux mused.

Caela saw the seven seals breaking on another Lux Plan. “Lux…” she said warningly. “I love you, but if you’re about to suggest what I think-”

“Just listen, everyone,” he insisted “It’s not what you think. This plan’s as watertight as a halfling’s hip flask…”

—

“I fucking hate the Buddy System,” Caela muttered, her clenched teeth reflected in the facets of a dozen diamond brooches.

Johannes looked down at her, his eyes creasing.

“Goodness,” he chuckled. “I am glad you feel able to express yourself in such a lurid colour palette. Even if it is quite the reversal of your tender sentiments earlier.”

Caela shook her head in dismay.

“Trust me, Johannes, if I didn’t love him dearly, I wouldn’t be able to cope with that silly boy.”

The silly boy in question was currently sandwiched between a bubbly sales clerk and Freija, who was holding more jewellery than their combined wealth. The section of floor  they stood on was a mosaic of glass, trapped between spiderwebbing steel beams. Lux was clearly trying very hard not to look down.

“Try this one,” the clerk beamed, holding a diamond ear stud up to his ear. Freija held Lux’s curls away from his ear and scrutinised the piece.

“Oh, how wonderful,” she trilled, in the worst fake accent Caela had ever heard. “But it’s just a little small for his lobes, and just a touch too yellow. You don’t have anything in the back, do you?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we really can’t let customers back there.”

On the other side of the shop, the two tieflings were bickering over a tray of rings and a considerably less happy shop assistant. Besides the party, there were perhaps ten other shoppers, many of whom were not-so-subtly eavesdropping on the altercation.

“Me, take advice from the walking talking ring-toss?” Kazzik scoffed, batting at the golden bands on Ash’s horns.

“Please,” Ash fired back scornfully. “You need the help. I wouldn’t trust you to dress a salad.”

Their ‘distraction’ certainly seemed authentic. Caela, wondering if they’d escalate to casting spells at each other, was about to step in.

Then came an unholy shattering of glass.

“Everyone on the floor!”

Caela whipped round, shards crunching underfoot. A dozen armed figures rushed into the gap left by the shattered door, their faces masked with a mismatch of bandanas.

Their leader, a thick-set woman in studded leather, brandished a maul at the cowering shoppers. “We claim this shop in the name of the New Leaf Liberation Army. No longer will it funnel money into the corrupt cabal calling itself the ‘Mages’ College’.”

The shaking civilians lay on their bellies, facing the ground through the transparent floor. The shop assistants were sprawled in their fine shirts and skirts, tightly-pinned hair starting to fray. The bandits spread out through the shop, sweeping the area with crossbows and brandishing daggers at uncooperative faces.

Beside Caela, Johannes was struggling down to his knees, letting out curses in High Elvish. She gestured to him, and the pair shuffled behind a low table. Caela peeped over the barrier to assess the situation.

Two bandits had dragged a cabinet to barricade the shattered entrance and were watching the road for guards. A handful more scoured the shop, sweeping jewellery into a hemp sack. Their cackles of excitement betraying their avarice. The remaining few were beginning to corral their new hostages, frisking them for weapons. One came close to Freija, but her death-glare apparently triggered his survival instincts - he opted to watch her fearfully from a safe distance.

Lux was lying on his chest, looking around at the scene with stormclouds in his demeanour. The leader noticed his defiant expression and stomped over to him, pushing his head down with the head of her maul.

“Don’t be a hero, boy,” she warned. “These bent wizards aren’t worth dying for.”

Lux pushed back, face flushing with annoyance.

Caela made eye contact with Kazzik. His hand, pressed flat against the ground, curled into a pointing finger. His ring began to glow…

Out of the corner of her vision, Caela saw one of the clerks glide silently to her feet. Reality seemed to twist around her, like playing cards turning from edgewise to show their faces.

In a moment, the silk-shirted sales clerk was replaced with a figure clad head-to-toe in diamond-shaped steel plates. The plates entirely enclosed the head, a faceted orb without eyeholes. The lack of senses didn’t seem to hinder the wearer’s agility, as they carefully slid behind the insurgent leader. Caela could only open her mouth in surprise as the armoured figure slid a black blade around the woman’s neck and tore through her jugular in one swift stroke.

There was an awful wet splash as the woman holding the maul collapsed in a gurgling heap.

Then, as it always did, all hell broke loose.

31. Enemies Abound >>