You can read the previous chapter here!
Asp trooped down the stairs the following morning dressed as Penelope and spotted Madge helping check in a newtkin woman. She clutched her bag and headed for the door.
“We serve meals throughout the day until an hour after sundown, and–hey, Delia!”
Asp turned at the door. Madge was looking apologetically at the newtkin. “Just a moment. Sorry.” She turned to Asp. “Love the hair.”
The hair? Oh, I was Delia yesterday. “Oh, thanks!”
Madge shook her head as if to regain her train of thought. “Hey, no guards came last night. I thought for sure they would. You really talked that guy down?”
Asp smiled and shrugged. “I told you I did.”
Madge grinned, an eyebrow cocked. “So you did. Just wasn’t sure he’d stay talked out of it. You have a lovely day.” She turned back to the newtkin woman. “So, yeah, we start serving meals just before sunrise. And–”
The door to the inn slammed, and Asp bounded down the stairs and toward the residential district. She wove through people on the streets and noticed her unconscious speed; she slowed and tried to blend in, but she was several feet shorter than almost everyone, and her feet seemed insistent on going faster.
Relax. She breathed deeply. You need a clear head to work. Just relax. She inhaled deeply again and held her breath for a few paces before letting it out slowly. Relax.
She arrived at her destination and scanned for people. There was a very young elven boy tossing a ball up and catching it to her left and an elven mother carrying a bundled baby to her right. Before her was no one–simply a collection of three ramshackle houses. She walked quietly over and began to investigate the center structure.
It was a single room building about the size of Asp’s childhood home. Only this isn’t for slightkin. She winced. Could an elf live in one of these? A family of elves? She scowled and inspected the walls. As she’d noted the previous night, they were dreadfully thin, and now she saw that the thickness was uneven–even thinner in some places. Even I could punch a hole in this wall. The floor was composed of thin floorboards that flexed beneath her as she tread on them, and there was too much space between the boards. Hope nobody drops anything–it’ll be gone forever. She walked back to the door and looked around. No frame–just the end of the planks. And no windows! How is he going to sell these?
She left the house and quickly checked the other two. They were identical except for one, which had slightly thicker boards than the other. She frowned and walked outside, staring at the ground behind the houses. She found tiny footprints behind the center house. So these flimsy ones are the new ones. The thicker wood on the other house must have been Jaelin’s idea that Barusil shot down. She glanced around, thinking, and sighed. I need to know more about Barusil and his plan. Back to the thieves guild. Hopefully, it’s livelier than yesterday.
Asp left the residential district behind and headed for the thieves guild, cutting a curving path past the docks, and took position at a wall across from the dark building. She got comfortable and watched.
Over an hour passed before anyone left. It was an intimidating elven man in the leather outfits she’d seen on the other thieves. Asp looked at him from across the street as though he were a puzzle. Do I stay for Barusil? Or risk missing him by talking to this guy? He might know something. She frowned. And I’ll be right back. She shrugged and trotted after the Ronan’el.
Drawing even with him, she smiled up in his direction. “Morning, sir.”
He looked down and raised an eyebrow. “Who’re you?”
Asp intensified her smile. “I’m Blossom. I’m an aspiring thief. I’d like to join your guild.”
He scowled at her. “Don’t talk about shit that could get you in a bad place.”
She assumed an embarrassed expression. “Is there a good place I could talk about that shit?”
He laughed. “You’re serious? You’re a thief? You look like–” He considered her appearance as Penelope. “You sure as shit don’t look like a thief.”
Asp smiled dangerously. “That has its benefits.”
The elf smiled back. “No one suspects you. Okay. Pulled anything major?”
Asp laughed. “Plenty.”
He tsk-tsked her. “If you’re so good, how come I haven’t heard of you?”
You’d’ve heard of me if I gave you the right name, she thought, churning. She wanted desperately to prove to the elf that she was an accomplished criminal, but part of her resisted. You can’t let him know you’re on the run–they’ve never let you in. Deflect. “Again, that has its benefits.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, then relaxed. “You seem okay to me, but you gotta talk to Rynilce. He’s guild leader. He’s gonna have some questions for you.” He spat. “I’m Zygon.”
“Thanks,” said Asp. “Who are you to the organization?”
He shrugged. “I’m a footpad. Been a part of it for a few months, still working my way up the ropes. I had to start over here after my new life on the Myriad didn’t play out.”
You and me both. “Sorry to hear that,” she said. “Well, maybe I’ll be seeing you around.”
Zygon nodded and waved and she turned back the other way. She made it to the doorway of the dark building and knocked.
Nothing happened. For several minutes, Asp stood waiting with waning patience. She breathed deeply and knocked again, louder this time.
Again, nothing happened. She waited again. Don’t want to get off on the wrong foot. And again, she knocked on the door, throwing her whole shoulder into it.
A nearby elven woman came over to Asp. “Child, you shouldn’t be knocking on that door. Come away.”
Asp resisted. “No, this is where I mean to be, but thank you.”
The elven woman became more insistent. “Some very nasty people live in there, and you don’t know what you’re–”
The door swung open, and Barusil stood in the frame. “What?! What the fuck is it?! Why do you keep knocking?!” He heaved breaths as she shouted.
The elven woman turned and ran. Asp faced Barusil. “I just talked to Zygon. He said to meet with Rynilce. I want to join.”
Barusil seethed for a moment, then spat. “He said that? To you?”
Asp smiled and studied her fingernails. “Zygon said that. To me.”
Barusil frowned. “And why the fuck would he tell you that?”
“Because of things I can’t discuss in the open air, as I’m sure you know would be the case for someone interested in your outfit.” Asp smiled as she spoke, staring at him the whole time.
“Zygon wouldn’t play around . . .” Barusil shrugged as if it had never mattered to him. “Come in then.” He stepped from the door. “I bet you don’t last five minutes.”
Asp walked inside and looked around. She was immediately overwhelmed by memories. The place looked so much like the old estate in Strey that she had to breathe consciously. The exterior was unspectacular, but the inside was full of beautiful woodwork, high ceilings, and lushly carpeted floors. Best of all, empty bottles dotted every surface, and sleeping thieves lay in improbable positions on armchairs, couches, and the floor. Dim sunlight filtered through the boarded-up windows.
Asp withheld a sob. I’m home.
—
Hours ago, Barusil had told Asp that Rynilce was indisposed and would need some time before he could see her. That suited Asp fine. She fell into a card game that she steadily gathered coins in, and she purposely lost most of them to keep the other players happy. No one wants a first-timer to clean up. That’s how fights get started.
She sat and listened as some of the younger members of the guild stirred and plotted. Asp would listen carefully to their plans, which were both full of holes and wildly unrealistic, and suggest similar alternatives that could feasibly work. Before long, a group of younger thieves were gathered around Asp, and she happily answered questions about how to handle law enforcement. Barusil watched her with an angry stare which intensified with every answer she offered. She politely dismissed herself, met by a chorus of complaints, and stood by Barusil.
“Am I doing something wrong?” she asked.
He stared back as if he hadn’t heard her. Just as she was preparing to ask again, he answered. “You sure like attention.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “It’s okay, I suppose.”
He shook his head. “I don’t like it. Thieves are supposed to be quiet.”
She gestured down to her green gown and adjusted her flowing hair. “I don’t look like a thief. It gives me more freedom.”
He shook his head again. “It attracts attention.”
She laughed. “So, if you were pulling a dangerous lift, you wouldn’t want me attracting attention somewhere else?”
He scowled. “I guess. Still. It don’t sit right, limass.”
Asp managed not to react besides to offer a smile. “I promise you I just want to join your outfit.” And that’s the truth.
“Barusil!” shouted a deep voice from upstairs. “I’m ready.”
Barusil turned to Asp. “No funny business.” He smiled and drew a line across his throat. “Or else.”
Asp nodded and climbed the stairs. At the top was a wide room with a marble desk, dozens of baubles, and a few armchairs in a circle before the desk. Behind the desk sat a massive human man covered in dark tattoos.
“Rynilce," he said by way of introduction. "You wanna join up.” He offered this as a statement, not a question. “Sit down.”
Asp walked over and took a seat. She looked around at all the baubles–a golden ship statue, a crystal dragon, a framed deed. “Trophies?”
He nodded. “You are?”
Asp smiled. “In confidence?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. In confidence.”
“I’m a con artist.” It felt good to say to someone who could appreciate it. “You ever heard of Penelope Jasmine?”
Rynilce nodded. “Sure. Minor con artist outta Lowglen, heard she worked in Strey. Very minor. You work with her?”
She smiled. “Heard of Gilbert Hardlaurel-Timberline?”
He furrowed his brow. “‘Bout the same. Minor figure out east.”
Asp’s smile grew. “Delia Violet?”
He sighed. “Again, ‘bout the same. Still haven’t answered my question yet. Who the fuck are you?”
Asp held her smile. “I’m Asp.”
He lifted his eyebrows, then leaned forward. “You’ve pissed a lot of people off, kid.”
Asp laughed. “And those other names are my characters. You’ve heard of me?”
Rynilce didn’t move. “We’re everywhere, kid. We’ve heard of all your names. Good to know they’re all the same person.” He laughed. “You’re telling me you’re good. But you’re telling me something else. You haven’t been heard from in a while, none of you. You finally get caught? ‘Cause that matters. A good con who gets caught is nobody.”
“I didn’t get caught.” Her voice came out with more of an edge than she’d have liked. “I’ve never been well and truly caught.”
Rynilce sneered at her. “Gettin’ chased outta town is the same as getting caught.”
“It has a lot less jailtime,” she countered.
He laughed. “Fair enough. Okay, if I know cons, you’re not telling me something. What is it?”
Asp looked around innocently. “Nothing. Look, I’ve run a few times, but I’m here to stay. Let’s work together.”
Rynilce showed his teeth. “You worked with Hollowstride, right?”
Asp nodded.
“He ran a pretty loose ship, from what I understand. We’re a little more . . . serious. You cross me, you’re not gonna be slipping off in the night. Especially not if you try to take my hand off.”
“That’s a misunderstanding!” cried Asp. “I didn’t do that. He earned that himself when he pissed off a mage with massive power!”
“That’s my point, Asp,” said Rynilce, chuckling. “I’m not Oslo. I’m the mage. Understand?” He dug his fingers into the marble and scraped them slowly toward himself. Fine ribbons of marble sprouted from his nails.
Oh. Oh shit. The card game, the thieves . . . this isn’t really home. This isn’t home at all. “Can I think on it?”
Rynilce bellowed laughter. When he settled, he looked at her squarely. “Maybe it’d be good for you to think things through for a change.”
Asp snapped. “You don’t know what would be good for me.”
He sneered. “And what would be good for you?”
I need to know about Barusil’s houses. Should I pry, or go before this gets nasty? She swallowed hard, eyeing the marble ribbons. “Well, right now . . . I’m looking to buy a house. I saw a few out in the residential district–over by the road to the docks–but they were falling apart, and they’d just been built. Is the whole city like that?”
Rynilce chuckled. “No. Just Barusil’s.”
Asp donned a surprised expression. “Those are his? But why does he build them so flimsy?”
Rynilce showed his teeth again. “Cheaper to build. People will still rent them. They got nowhere else to go. Barusil’s gonna act all sweet until they’re moved in, and then the real fun starts.” He cackled. “When people get stolen from, they complain to the landlord–Barusil. But Barusil’s the one stealing from them.” He slapped a knee. “Double profits, and the guards will never listen to those poor shmucks. Definitely Barusil’s best idea yet.”
That bastard. He’s gonna pay. “Wow, that’s brilliant! I really think he’s onto something.”
Rynilce eyed her suspiciously. “If you’re in the market for a house, go foreign quarter. Best prices, and you might find one that fits you.” He chortled at his joke.
“I’m gonna go look, and I’ll think on it.” Asp walked over to the stairs. “Thanks for talking to me.”
Rynilce laughed. “Do come back.” He flashed his teeth one more time.
Asp descended the stairs and approached Barusil, who was ordering a few newer members to clean up bottles. “Thanks, Barusil. I wish you all the success in the world.”
He looked at her, confused. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Asp smiled and nodded. At the door, she said, “Take care,” and stepped out into the city.
—
Asp had been in her room at the inn for a while, trying to get the wording just right. Content that it was after her seventh editing pass, she folded it neatly and placed it in her bag. She checked that her hair was gathered indeed Delia’s cap and headed out into the evening, wishing Madge a happy time as the inn settled down.
She took a different path, passing a massive statue of religious significance, and stopped outside of a large, fancy building. Outside it stood guards at attention. Asp breathed deeply. Let’s see how much they don’t like slightkin.
She marched up to the building and addressed the guards. “I need to speak with someone about illegal activity.”
The guard on the right, a middle-aged woman in shining armor, shook her head. “That’s at the guard office. It’s down there, to the right.”
Asp smiled. “It’s not a violent crime or theft. It’s a municipal law. I figured here was the right place for that.”
The woman stared back. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but if I need one, I’m happy to come back. But you see, it is very urgent.”
“You need an appointment for that office.” The elven woman went back to watching the surroundings.
“Can I make an appointment inside?”
“At the desk,” said the elven woman. She pointed inside.
“Thanks,” said Asp.
“Limass idiot,” said the other guard loud enough for Asp to hear.
She carried on to the desk that the woman had indicated. “I need to make an appointment to see someone about a municipal law being broken.”
An elderly elven man at the desk looked blearily at her. “Do you have the requisite form to make an appointment?”
Asp’s shoulders slumped. “Where can I get the form to make an appointment?”
“Down the hall,” said the elf. He pointed to his right. “There will be a door that says, ‘Other Filings.’”
“Other?” Asp furrowed her brow. “What’s ‘other’ about it?”
The elf rolled his eyes as though this were obvious. “There’s elven crime concerns, elven municipal concerns, elven spiritual concerns, and other. You’re the other.”
“Thanks,” said Asp, frustrated. She went further down the hall to a door marked “Other Filings.” It stood ajar, and inside was an elven woman about Asp’s own age, and she held a swaddled baby in one arm as she wrote with the other. Asp knocked lightly at the door, and the elven woman turned to see her.
“Hello,” said the elf blandly. “What’s your problem?”
Asp looked back, defeated. “I don’t know. I came here to report a crime, but it seems like nobody cares about it.”
The elf rocked her baby. “You mean you don’t have the right forms?”
Asp moaned in frustration. “No, I don’t have the right forms. I don’t know where all the offices are, and I don’t have an appointment. I just have a guy who’s taking advantage of people and breaking the law, and I want to do something about it.”
The elf frowned. “What’s he doing?”
Asp sighed. “He’s building these shitty little houses, and he’s gonna charge people too much for them, and they’re not okay for living in, okay?” She realized she was ranting now, but she didn’t stop herself. “He’s building something that’s not safe, and he’s planning to steal from the residents and keep them from getting justice. It’s not okay. You can’t . . . just hurt people . . .” She was crying now, and her words slowed. “It’s just wrong!”
Asp’s crying had started the baby crying too, and the elven woman focused her attention on quieting it. “Calm down,” she said. When Asp said nothing, the mother looked up. “Calm down.”
“Sorry.” Asp wiped her nose. “I’m sorry, I just . . . I’ve been through a lot lately.”
The elven mother nodded. “I’m sure you have.”
Asp frowned. “So can you help me?”
She stared back, her lips pursed. Finally, she smiled. “Give me a minute.” She reached into various small shelves and withdrew three sheets of paper. She wrote quickly–more quickly than Asp had ever seen someone write–and filled the forms in moments. Asp blinked as she watched. The elven woman held the papers up to Asp. “Does this look right?”
Asp scanned the pages. Illegal building standards . . . conspiracy to commit theft . . . price-gouging . . . It looks good.
“Thank you,” she said when she’d finished.
“Sign here, here, and here,” said the woman, gesturing. “I’ll turn those in. You’ve got about four days ‘til the building permit stuff kicks in, six until the price-gouging charge is processed, and a few days–maybe three or four– for the conspiracy.”
Asp’s eyes widened. Three charges? This is better than my original plan. “Thank you so much. Oh, I really appreciate it.” She signed the forms “Blossom Goodfield.”
The elven woman shrugged. “I just did it to get you to stop crying. Don’t go telling your friends I’ll help them.”
Asp laughed. “You’re the best.”
The woman rolled her eyes. “Have a nice day.”
Asp smiled. She hurried from the government building to the market. She approached a beggar at a street corner.
“You wanna make an easy crown?” she asked the frail human.
The man nodded fiercely.
“Take this,” she said, handing him the folded paper she’d written on. “There’s a big elf over that way,” she explained, gesturing, “kinda nasty. Dresses in leathers, sure to call you a nasty word for human. Answers to Barusil, assuming he answers at all. You give him this note, and then you run. Get outta there fast. You understand?”
He nodded again.
“Good. Tell me the plan so I know you understand.”
He opened his mouth, and for a moment, no sound came forth. He tried again. “Give mean elf note. Run.” His voice was creaky and quiet.
Asp nodded. “You’re gonna do perfect.”
He smiled and hobbled away, and Asp headed to the residential district’s corner, where she waited.
—
Asp had waited in position for hours. She was hunched down inside a hollowed-out treestump about twenty-five feet away from the houses. A small hole in the side of the stump allowed her to see out when her head was at the right angle, and she peered through it at the houses patiently. Midnight was approaching, and she grew eager.
In the darkness, she could hear footfalls. A set of heavy feet moved lightly across the ground towards the houses. Barusil. Or someone he sent. But the note was clear. He should be alone.
Torchlight came around the corner of the center house. Barusil held a torch and looked out into the darkness. Asp could swear that he looked right at her, but his gaze kept moving, and he walked quietly around, gazing into the dark. He walked around like this for perhaps fifteen minutes before going back into the house. There was a heavy thud–something striking the floor of the house. The torchlight reappeared again outside the house, and Barusil walked away and into the night.
Don’t move, she thought. This is the problem with dead drops. Checking it’s there makes you vulnerable. Don’t move.
She waited another twenty minutes, unmoving and peering from the stump. She was about to get up and stretch her legs when the torchlight returned. She huddled in the stump and watched. Barusil re-entered the house. She heard him grunt as he stooped, and then there was the sound of shifting metal. He’s taking it back. Shit! She stayed put. Another thud sound emanated from the house, this one louder. No, he just dropped it louder. He thinks I didn’t hear him the first time. That’s good–it means he doesn’t know if I’m here. The torchlight left the house.
Again, she considered stirring but didn’t. Her legs were so cramped that she was in constant pain, but she resisted moving. One wrong move with Barusil is one too many. Besides, if this doesn’t work, it won’t just be Barusil you’ll have to worry about. You’ll have the whole thieves guild chasing you. She hunched a while longer.
The torchlight returned half an hour later, Barusil peering around the area. She could see him scowl, and she smiled. You know the situation, Barusil. There’s no fighting back. He walked further from the houses, coming within a few feet of Asp. He breathed deeply, and part of Asp was afraid he would smell her. But after a tense moment, he returned to the house. There was another sound of shifting metal, and a booming thud followed. Barusil walked back out of the house. A moment later, he began shouting.
“You! You, pacell!”
There was a sound of confusion from the road beyond.
“Yeah, you! You the fuckin’ idiot who’s trying to rip me off?” Barusil barked.
“No, sir, I don’t even know you,” came the response, their voice scared.
“Bullshit. You’re here for my money. You think you can threaten the guild?”
“No! Please, sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come back here, pacell!” Barusil’s voice receded into the distance as he chased the pleading man. “I’ll teach you a lesson or two.”
When the sounds were gone, Asp stole out of the stump and into the house. On the floor was a large bag. She hefted it over a shoulder and nearly toppled. Righting herself, she hurried out of the house and down the street. She disappeared into Madge’s inn quietly, the full moon high above the city.
—
Asp woke late the next morning and smiled at the large bag in the corner. She climbed from bed and opened the bag. The morning light illuminated crowns in the bag–more of them than she could count. She walked to the small desk along the wall and studied the last sheet of paper she’d practiced with.
Barusil,
Your plan to exploit people with your houses is clever, but it needs help to work. What you’re planning is illegal in several ways, and if someone were to report it to the government, things could get very complicated, and fast. You can prevent that with a payment.
Your plan should generate four hundred crowns in the first year. But you’ll never make that money from prison. So take two hundred crowns in a bag to your houses, and leave the money in the center house. No funny business–you leave anything but legal tender, and my report goes to the guards.
Leave the money there at midnight. Come alone–if anyone beside you shows up, I’ll burn the houses down and turn you in. Follow my rules, and nothing goes poorly for you. I’d hate for your friends in the guild to know you can’t put a good plan together.
-Your Business Associate
She giggled as she reread it. Two hundred crowns. I only needed one twenty-three. I’m set. Shit, I can party a bit. I’ll get a place. A little apartment, nothing that would attract attention. Maybe this can work.
After dressing as Penelope, Asp looked through her pack and found the small crossbow she’d bought in Pyramis. I should probably practice with this. I’d hate to need to use it and not know how. She dressed and went downstairs, the crossbow in hand.
Madge smiled at her from behind the counter. “Didn’t see you come in last night–burning the midnight oil?”
Asp laughed. “I was, as a matter of fact. Say, you know where I can shoot this thing without bothering anybody?” She held the crossbow up demonstratively.
Madge giggled. “It’s so small! Does it work?”
“That’s what I aim to find out,” said Asp. “Anywhere safe but away from people?”
“There’s some woods just off the residential district–” began Madge.
“I ran into someone . . . upsetting there yesterday. Anywhere else?”
Madge looked up. “Maybe over behind the stables? There’s rarely anyone over there.”
“Thanks!” chirped Asp. “Have a nice day.” She swept outside and down the stairs.
Asp made her way to the city gates and doubled back, finding the stables at the edge of town. Beyond the stables were some sparse woods, and Asp took to firing bolts at the thicker trees, first from close up and with increasing distance. After an hour or so, she could reliably hit her target from thirty feet away. I’ll keep at it. More distance, firing quickly–I’ll learn. She sighed. At least some distance might help. She thought of attacking Gunther and felt queasy. I hope it helps. She headed back into the city.
The many people of Lo’Torrin swarmed around her, and she found herself lost in the thrum of the city. She thought back to her early days in Strey, and how that city too had felt foreign, unfamiliar, intangible. One day, Lo’Torrin will feel like Strey. She walked along and noticed a young newtkin man with a fine hat sitting on the side of the road gently crying.
“What’s the problem?” she asked him.
He sniffled his nose, looking down. “I’m ruined.”
Asp leaned down to enter his vision. “What happened?”
The newtkin moaned. “I pissed off the wrong people.”
Asp smiled gently at him. “I know how that goes.”
The newtkin shook his head. “Thieves guild.”
I know how that goes, too. “I’m sorry. They steal from you?”
The newtkin nodded sadly. “I had enough saved to pay bail on my sister. It’s all gone now.”
Asp sighed. “How much to get her out?”
“Ten crowns!” he cried, throwing his hands up.
“Ten?” Asp patted him on the shoulder. “What’d she do?”
“Be a newtkin,” said the man. “That guy Barusil holds a grudge over nothing.”
Asp smiled. “It won’t undo your sister being locked up, but Barusil has his coming. And as far as your sister goes–” Asp retrieved some crowns from her bag and counted ten into his palms. “–that’ll take care of it.”
The newtkin’s eyes went wide. “Really?”
“And so you’re not broke afterward.” She dropped another two crowns into his hands. It’s Barusil’s money anyway. “Be smart about it.”
“Oh, I swear I will be.” He rose and turned. “Thank you.” He dashed off toward the guardhouse.
“That was mighty nice,” said a deep voice behind her. She spun. It was Rynilce.
“Good public standing is important for my characters,” she said sweetly.
“You think about it?” He smiled at her, all teeth.
“You know,” she said, “I think I’m gonna go it alone. I do better with less structure.”
“And it’s not just you steering clear of Barusil?”
Asp blinked a few times. “I mean, he’s not pleasant, but I’m not avoiding anyone.”
Rynilce leaned down until he was at eye level with Asp. It seemed to her that his head was the size of her whole body. “Be careful, Asp. You’re not in Strey anymore.” He flashed a vicious smile. “Good luck.”
“You too!” called Asp cordially as he left, people parting before him. Whoa. Definitely watch out for him.
She wandered back to the docks and spotted Hugo overseeing the construction of a small boat with a huge paddlewheel at the back. She smiled to herself and watched the ships coming in.
A new land, a new start. Maybe a new me. Her thoughts strayed to past jobs–what had gone right, what had gone wrong. And somewhere in her, Asp knew that her new life was coming whether she wanted it to or not.
You can read You Changed Too, which takes place immediately following this short story, here!
You can read more short stories here!
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