You can read the previous chapter here!
“No one knows noses like Gnosis knows noses ‘cause Gnosis knows no sis like mine,'' recited Dancer, his tongue working overtime. Raucous laughter exploded from the gang. Dancer took an exaggerated bow and finished his ale in a long chug. Applause broke out, and Dancer took more bows, even deeper now.
It was mid-afternoon, and the gang had been partying since that morning. Jehosaphat had suggested a big celebratory breakfast, and Dancer had countered with a whole day celebration to mark his freedom. No one had pointed out that most of the previous day had been spent this way, and Asp could tell from the gang’s demeanors before and after the decision to party that this was desperately needed. In the short time she had known the gang, everyone had been on-edge basically the whole time. This felt, in a way, like finally meeting them for the first time.
“Dancer,” cried Asp, “I had no idea you were so well-spoken. And a classic newtkin tongue-twister too!”
Dancer’s eyes lit up. “What do you know of newtkin tongue-twisters?” he asked, a challenge in his voice.
“Only that a newtkin’s chin has thin skin when they win, but their shins are more fins which spin with twin gins ,” replied Asp in a quick patter.
“A fine feat of your own,” Oslo interjected, “but we’re running low on booze. Volunteers?”
Asp shot a hand up before she realized she had done so. When she glanced around, Kyrn had raised her hand too.
“Off you go, then,” said Oslo with a grin, gesturing to Gregorio, who produced a stack of helms and handed them to Kyrn.
Kyrn tipped an imaginary hat and held the door for Asp. The two slipped outside, and Asp noted with pleasure that Kyrn joined her in melting into the crowd. But Asp had something else in mind. She nudged closer to Kyrn.
“Hey, I gotta do something else while we’re shopping,” Asp whispered.
“You need a hand?” asked Kyrn, her eyes scanning the crowd.
“I’ve got this one, I think.” Asp gazed around the passing city blocks. She didn’t see any familiar faces. A silent weight settled on her shoulders. “Actually, I don’t need a hand, but I wouldn’t mind one, if that makes sense.”
“I hear you,” said Kyrn. She followed Asp off the main road and onto a less populous side street. “What is it, little one?”
Asp looked around. “I need to find our teapot from yesterday.”
Kyrn blinked a few times, then shook her head. “I’m not a priest, I’m a fingertip,” she said, waving a claw. “Oslo and Jehosaphat never taught us some of the priest-specific terms.”
Asp nodded, but she didn’t truly understand. Sure, Kyrn’s a fingertip–a pickpocket–but why shouldn’t she know priest–con artist–terms? What possible advantage is there in that? She stepped in closer and spoke as quietly as she could conceive of. “Our civilian friend from yesterday,” she breathed.
Kyrn nodded a few times, then frowned. “Can’t you just go in a different disguise? Why do we need to find her again?”
Asp hesitated. Finally, she said, “I’m not certain she won’t have a change of heart. I need her to be on the hook until she leaves town.”
“That’s a tall order, though, isn’t it?” Kyrn’s tongue flicked out, testing the warm air.
“Yeah, but if we don’t want Dancer right back in jail . . .” Asp trailed off, her tone dismal.
“True,” said Kyrn, a darkness in her tone. “So where do we find her?”
“Her inn’s around her. She shouldn’t be too far. Let’s check the tavern we were at yesterday.” Asp headed out of the alleyway and back towards the city proper.
“Hey, I have a weird question,” said Kyrn at a low volume, but with a touch of friendliness.
“Ask away,” said Asp, scanning the streets.
“I saw you as Gilbert, I think you said the name was. You really were just a little man.” Kyrn said the word “man” heavily. “Do people treat you differently that way?”
“Oh, Kyrn,” said Asp, chuckling. “That’s why Gilbert exists at all. You recall all the mulberry bush nonsense?”
Kyrn lowered her head in a mixture of anger and shame. “I’m sorry for them–” she began as they took seats in the tavern Asp had indicated.
“Not a word,” interrupted Asp. “You didn’t do it to me, and I will never blame you for it. Back them up–that’s different. But I know you get it. I don’t know how to say this delicately, but you–” Asp waved her hand in the air, trying to seem to be searching for the right word–which she had decided on days before–“You walk a kind of middle path, don’t you? I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but I actually thought you were a man at first.” She paused for a moment to gauge Kyrn’s reaction and inspected Kyrn’s outfit–a tunic and britches, both loose-fitting. When there wasn’t a reaction, she continued. “What I mean is you present yourself as being explicitly neither male nor female. You’re just you, right?”
Kyrn nodded. “It started as an accident. I was raised pretty traditional Ronan'el. The clothing and the way we all work together in society–they didn’t make me think of men and women as being all that different. But here, everyone acts like it’s the biggest difference. I even think that men and women get treated more differently than elves and Ronan'el.” She sounded exasperated by the end of this speech.
“I know what you mean,” said Asp, a gentleness to her voice. “If it weren’t my job to make people comfortable, you can bet my–” She paused again, this time truly searching for the word. “–my characters would be quite different. But now that you’re here, away from what you were raised with, how do you make peace with what people expect of you? I mean, you’re a fingertip–as long as you can work quietly, no one should care what you look like or anything else.”
Kyrn nodded, her eyes sad. “But you must be what people want you to be.”
Asp looked shocked despite herself. After a moment’s silence, she said, “I guess I kinda knew that, but I never put it that way before.” She felt troubled.
Kyrn patted her on the shoulder. “Let’s get the drinks and see if we can run into your friend on the way back.”
Asp nodded. “Yeah,” she said, lost in thought. She entered a tavern and stepped up to the counter, turning to Kyrn. “What drinks does everybody like?”
-
Asp and Kyrn carried between them a cheap wooden chest which was filled with casks of ale and a handful of bottles of rum. The carrying of the chest was complicated by the fact that Kyrn was three times Asp’s size, but they managed well enough to navigate the city without anyone hassling them or offering unwanted help. They had just cleared the city’s public square and gotten onto a street leading to the warehouse when Asp heard a familiar voice cry out from behind her.
“Delia! There you are! I’ve been looking for you all day!” Wanda’s hearty tenor sounded both worried and excited.
“You’re someone I paid to help me carry drinks to people who are paying me to deliver booze,” Asp said to Kyrn, who nodded back. “Oh Wanda, there you are,” Asp said with thick relief in her voice. “I looked for you too.”
Wanda drew even with Asp and Kyrn, keeping pace. “Who’s your friend?”
Kyrn started to open her mouth, but Asp spoke sooner. “I think she said her name is Yancy,” she said as though it didn’t matter at all. “I just offered her a few caps to help me carry all these drinks.”
Wanda’s eyebrows rose. “And you’re carrying all these drinks because . . . ?”
“Because it’s easy money, silly,” said Asp, a big forced smile infecting her tone.
Wanda seemed not to be paying attention to her answer. Asp knew to be concerned by this. If someone is so excited to tell you something that they ignore an answer to a question they asked, things are about to get complicated.
“I’ve made a decision, Delia.” Wanda sounded decisive and proud as she followed behind Kyrn and Asp.
“And what’s that, Wanda?” Asp pulled her shoulder up, trying to keep the cheap chest off the ground.
Wanda’s voice was triumphant. “I’m staying in town.”
The chest dropped from both Asp’s and Kyrn’s hands, clattering to the ground. The glass bottles inside clinked against each other, and Wanda chuckled at their dropping the chest. Asp turned to face Wanda.
“You are?” Her shock went unhidden.
“Well,” began Wanda, “I thought about it. I like Strey well enough. And it seems like things are pretty fair here, and of course you’re here,” she said, pointing to Asp. “I’ve been looking for somewhere to settle down, so why not here?”
Asp turned to Kyrn. “Here,” she said, passing Kyrn a few caps. “Can you get it the rest of the way?”
Wanda was pacing now, weaving a series of looping lines all around Asp and Kyrn.
Kyrn hefted the chest herself with ease. “Do you think that you can get it the rest of the way?” she whispered, gesturing towards Wanda.
Asp nodded. ”Tell everybody that there better be at least one cup of rum when I get back. I’ve never had it before, and tonight’s the night,” she whispered. Then, turning, “Wanda!” she cried out. “C’mon, let’s go celebrate your decision.” Asp led Wanda back towards the center of the city, a very particular route in mind.
-
“Wow, I hadn’t seen those parts of town,” said Wanda, wiping sweat from her brow.
“Most folks haven’t,” said Asp, shaking her head. “But they’re there.”
“Do you think that elven guy was really getting mugged?” Wanda’s voice went an octave higher than usual.
“Oh, certainly. People get mugged here all the time.” Asp waved the question away like it was simpler than even common knowledge. “How’s your drink?”
Wanda didn’t reply. “How come no one lives in all those houses we passed?” she asked and bit at a fingernail.
“People used to live there, sure,” explained Asp. “But that was when it was still safe to live there. To show you the unfairness yesterday, I showed you a neighborhood where people still live, but there are a lot of places like what I just showed you too.”
Asp drank slowly from her glass. She had no idea what the history of Strey was. Strey could be the safest city on any continent for all she knew. But she knew that if she didn’t know, there was a good chance Wanda didn’t either.
“So are you going to look for a place to live tomorrow? We’ve got to get you out of that nasty inn already,” said Asp.
“Wait a minute. The guards won’t help the poor people in town, AND I can just wander into the guardhouse and accuse someone I don’t know of something, AND they go to prison, all no questions asked?” Wanda had worked herself up into a lather.
Asp looked at her, torn. On the one hand, this was precisely the crisis she had intended to create for Wanda. On the other, Wanda had only ever been good to her, and Wanda was perturbed. Asp was not used to spending time with marks after conning them. Her inner self did battle, and eventually, she quietly said, pain in her voice, “Does that mean you don’t want to live here?”
Wanda slumped forward onto the bar. “I do want to live here. I want to have a new home and neighbors I like and friends I can depend on. But it seems like that might not be so easy here after all. I mean, I have the friend I can depend on,” she said, placing a hand on Asp’s shoulder, “but the rest? I don’t know.”
Asp tried to seem like she was struggling to be positive. “I know a little bit about all the places near here and even a ways out. Maybe if you can describe what you want, I can help.”
Wanda shook her head. “The whole point of this trip was to find a place firsthand, without having to take someone’s word about it.”
Asp took her turn to place a hand on Wanda’s shoulder. “Wanda. Listen to me. It’s me–it’s Delia. I don’t want to tell you where to go or what to do. I just want to help you be happy. And how many times have I been able to help you if you just tell me what you want?”
Wanda’s face brightened a bit. “Okay. I want somewhere safe, somewhere I can enjoy real culture, and somewhere my work will be appreciated.”
Asp smiled. “And what is it you do for work?”
Wanda spoke as though bored. “I’m an inventor. I make industrial devices that make smithing work easier.”
Wouldn’t you know it? A real inventor. Figures. Asp looked around the room, then at Wanda. “And you have something against Hammergrad?” she asked as though the dwarven capital were the obvious option.
“Well, I thought about it,” replied Wanda. “But I heard that there was just some backfiring of a spell. It caused a collapse in a mine entrance, which killed a few people. I do want to be safe.”
Asp’s eyes narrowed. “In Hammergrad? When?” Her tone was more urgent and less friendly now, which Wanda noticed.
“Jeez, I dunno. Today or yesterday, maybe a few days depending on how fast the news traveled.”
So I was accidentally right about something happening there–what are the odds? Asp collected herself, returning to her calm and pleasant demeanor. “One little accident like that in a long, long time? Nowhere’s perfect, Wanda. I’d give it a thought.”
“Hmm. Maybe I will,” said Wanda, yawning and stretching. “Maybe I will.”
-
Asp had escorted Wanda back to her inn and cut back through the city to enter the warehouse. When she came in, Dancer was passed out on the couch, and Jehosaphat had nodded off in a rocking chair in the corner. Gregorio was wearing his hat upside down and nursed a cask of ale which was almost his own size. Candace and Annabel were playing a card game which Asp didn’t recognize, but the small stacks of caps on the table revealed it was a betting game. Kyrn was dizzily gathering empty bottles and spent glasses, humming a low Ronan'el tune to herself as she did. Oslo sat at the table, staring intently at a mostly-full glass of rum before him.
“Aww, I knew you’d all be partied out by the time I got back,” Asp said, a challenge in her voice.
“Bring it on,” said Candace, pushing the cards away from herself. “I had trash that hand anyway,” she added with a fake smile towards Annabel.
“So like a cat burglar to pretend something is no good when really you just didn’t have the skills,” countered Annabel.
“Now, ladies,” said Oslo in a tone that seemed to mock his own often-assumed diplomatic tone. “Let’s stick together in good times–”
“So we can stick together in bad times!” shouted Annabel, Candace, Gregorio, and Kyrn.
“Game time!” called Candace as she shepherded the women in the gang around the chairs. “An old classic. Truth or dare.”
Kyrn groaned. “I dare you to pick a better game.”
“Truth: there is no better game.” Candace grinned. “Who’s first?”
“Asp’s new–she’s gotta do the first round,” insisted Annabel.
“I’d say that hardly seems fair, but you all have me at a disadvantage,” said Asp. “What’s truth or dare?”
“Oh child,” said Candace, giggling. “You either have to answer a question honestly–truth–or do something we come up with–dare. No lying, and no chickening out. You get it?”
“I guess I’ll try,” said Asp, rubbing her hands together. “I’m not much of one for the truth. Let’s go with dare.”
Kyrn and Annabel giggled in anticipation. Candace considered for a moment, then leaned forward. “You gotta steal Jehosaphat’s book off him.”
Oslo tsk-tsked. “She’s already done that one.”
“Yeah, sure,” said Candace with mischief in her voice, “but not while he’s sleeping.”
Oslo chuckled. “Fair enough.”
“C’mon, Asp,” said Annabel, her eyes alight. “Get his book.”
Why would that be hard? I got it off him wide awake, Asp thought. She made her way silently to Jehosaphat and stood still for a moment before him. She reached cautiously towards the folds of his cloak, moving her hand ever slower towards the pocket that held the book, inching so slowly that she soon almost couldn’t tell whether she was moving at all. Her fingertips grazed the cloth, and–
SNAP. Jehosaphat’s right hand grasped Asp’s left hand firmly in place. Asp tried to pull her hand back, but his grip was too tight. His eyelids fluttered open, and when his eyes focused on her, he laughed once, then in a burst. He let her hand go and sat up straighter.
“Truth or dare, I take it?” he asked.
Laughter exploded in the warehouse. Candace patted Asp gently on the arm where Jehosaphat had grabbed her and said, “Something of a rite of passage for rookies. Jehosaphat trained himself–somehow–to be able to do that in a dead sleep.” She smiled. “Alright, Annabel, you’re up.”
“Truth,” cried Annabel.
Candace and Kyrn groaned. “You always pick truth,” said Candace with performative frustration. “Which sucks because it’s not like you lie normally anyway.”
“I’m just playing by the rules,” protested Annabel.
“Fine,” said Kyrn with a toothy smile. “What’s something we haven’t asked you? How about–” she glanced around the room, as if for inspiration. Her eyes settled on a half-full bottle of rum, which she walked over to and poured into a glass, handing it to Asp. “How about, who was the worst friend you ever had?”
“You mean aside from you two?” said Annabel, already laughing.
“Yes,” said Kyrn, also laughing. “Like, someone who bugged you.”
Annabel crossed her legs beneath herself, thinking. “Hmm. Probably this old Ronan'el guy I knew back home.” She got a faraway look on her face. “Grogaz.” She pronounced his name cautiously, like it could summon him if she weren’t careful. “He insisted we were friends, but he was always trying to tell me what to do. I kept trying to get rid of him, but he stuck by me no matter what.”
Like Wanda, thought Asp. “So what happened?” she asked, striving for casualness to mask her genuine interest.
“I just ended up telling him that he needed to leave me alone. And eventually, after he believed I meant it, he did.” Annabel sounded like she had dealt with this situation emotionally, but like it still moved her to consider.
“How long did that take?” asked Asp. She noticed that Kyrn and Candace were looking at her as though she were strange.
“Generally,” explained Candace, “truth is only one question.”
Asp tried to relax. “Ahh, so I see. I didn’t realize.”
“That’s okay, rookie,” said Candace, turning from Asp. “My turn.” She donned a self-satisfied look. “Dare.”
Similar groans came from Kyrn and Annabel. “You always pick dare,” cried Annabel, half playfully and half disappointed.
“I’m just playing by the rules,” said Candace in a mimic of Annabel.
Kyrn sat thinking. Annabel looked to Kyrn like one looks at someone they have asked for advice. Kyrn shook her head a moment later. “She’s already done just about everything we can think of. Do you have a new idea?”
Kyrn shook her head, then stopped and grinned. “I dare you,” she said, all smiles, “to honestly answer a question.”
Candace shouted inarticulately. Then, pulling herself together, she said, “That is so not okay. But fine. I never back down from a dare. What’s your question?”
Kyrn shrugged. “I’m not good at this kind of thing. I’m handing it off to Asp.”
Asp looked surprised. “Okay. So I ask a question that we all want to know the answer to?”
Annabel piped up. “It’s more like a question that the person would be embarrassed to answer.”
Asp considered for a moment. She had a sense that there was a line here, that fun was supposed to trump winning, but she didn’t know where that line was. So she let honest curiosity be her guide.
“Why were you so desperate to get Dancer out of jail?” Asp asked, deadpan.
Candace looked horrified, then furious. Wordlessly, shaking, she got up and left the warehouse.
“And that’s how you ruin a game of truth or dare,” said Oslo, sipping at his rum and chuckling.
“That’s why she doesn’t do truth,” said Annabel with a glance toward Kyrn.
“I don’t know why she reacted that way,” said Kyrn, scratching her scaled head. “I mean, that’s weird even for Candace.”
Oslo belched and shrugged. “You know sometimes she gets rubbed the wrong way,” he stated as a fact.
“I’m gonna get some fresh air,” Asp said to no one in particular, and she swept out into the night.
-
Asp had practiced going somewhere while appearing to meander; now she meandered while appearing to go somewhere directly. It’s been a matter of days since I got here. I’ve saved my new gang’s collective ass at least three times so far. I’ve gotten everyone to like me, then hate me, multiple times. I’ve met and lied to more people than I can count, and the only thing I have to show for it is a “friend” I’m desperately trying to ditch. She passed a collection of taverns with cheery songs spilling out of them. Hold on, girl, she thought to herself. You’re also not wanted by the law, and you’re about to be a mess of crowns richer. And maybe when the gang does a job you’re actually meant to be a part of, who knows what that will look like?
She interrupted her own thoughts. I need to find Candace. If I’m lost in my thoughts, I’m going to miss her. She focused her energy on scanning the passing faces, looking for an elf with white hair. But aside from a few of the city’s elderly, she saw no one.
As she turned back towards the warehouse after looping through the city’s outer ridge, she reflected. I’m going to apologize to someone who I don’t know how I offended. How is working together more effort than working alone?
Someone tapped Asp on the shoulder. She spun and found a young brass Ronan'el waiting for her attention. The Ronan'el handed her a handwritten note in large, looping script:
Delia,
What you said makes a lot of sense. What you say always makes sense. I’m off for Hammergrad. I’m so eager I couldn’t even wait until sunrise to leave–I hope the roads are as beautiful by night.
If ever you’re in Hammergrad, come look me up. A true friend is never forgotten.
All the best,
Wanda
Asp finished reading the note and noticed the Ronan'el still standing nearby. She handed him a pair of caps, sending him on his way, and scanned her surroundings. When she checked behind her, she noticed someone–a dark figure–step quickly out of the way and into an alleyway. Catiously, Asp approached the alleyway.
As she neared it, she began to grow worried. Is someone watching me already? Is this something I can talk my way out of? How long have I been followed?
She stepped into the alley and looked down its length. There was indeed a black-cloaked figure standing at the end. They appeared to be searching in vain for a way out of the alley that didn’t involve coming back to where Asp stood.
“What do you want from me?” Asp demanded of the figure, her voice unwavering.
A growl of frustration came from the figure, followed by knowing laughter–laughter which Asp recognized.
“Candace?” she asked, genuinely surprised.
“Shut up,” Candace said, a touch of anger in her voice.
“Candace, listen–”
“I said shut up,” interrupted Candace.
“No, seriously, listen,” insisted Asp. “I don’t know why what I said was wrong, and I don’t even need to know what was wrong with it. It would help me not offend you again, but that’s not what matters right now. Clearly I stepped on something delicate. I want you to know I had no idea I’d be doing that. I was just trying to play the game.”
Candace shoved Asp harder than would suggest friendliness. “I know your type. People like you and Oslo, you just say whatever you think will make people happy,” fumed Candace.
Asp stepped back forward, resuming her previous position. “I say things like that to some people, yes. But I don’t say them to you.”
“Bullshit.” Candace was motionless.
Asp looked back, her eyes earnest. “I mean it, Candace.”
“Prove it,” said Candace, her voice thick with anger.
Asp looked about, confused for a moment. Then she set her jaw. “Fine. Truth.”
“Why did you leave where you came from?” Candace’s eyes were intense, and Asp struggled to meet her gaze.
“Family troubles,” said Asp. Then, when Candace’s silence suggested she wanted more information, Asp continued in a delicate tone. “I was getting more and more into our line of work. I thought I was keeping the wrong people from knowing. But I didn’t know who the wrong people were.” She glanced around, as though talking about it made her vulnerable again. “My mom, uh–” She could no longer meet Candace’s eyes at all. “My mom turned me in. I had a nice apartment, a cat, some good savings, and I had to run away from all of it. I lost everything. She took it away from me.” Asp rubbed at the back of her neck, and her eyes stung. “Happy?” Finally, she looked back up at Candace.
To her surprise, Candace’s ferocity was completely gone. In its stead was apprehension of tragedy. Her left eye brimmed, and a tear raced down her right cheek. A touch of anger surged once again.
“Which one of them told you?” Candace pointed a finger at Asp.
Asp looked around, confused. “Told me what?”
“About me!” Candace cried, more tears threatening to spill over.
The pieces snapped together in Asp’s mind. “Oh, Candace,” she said with unfaked concern. “Oh, I had no idea.”
Candace seemed disarmed, but she tried to cling to the dissipating anger. “But–but you–”
Asp offered a sympathetic smile. “Candace, I’m so sorry. At least you know I know how it is.”
One last push of anger came. “But you’re lying. You’re just saying that to–”
Asp held up a hand. “Candace, I might be dishonest when it suits me, but I would never hurt you on purpose. You’re my ally. I’d like to think that one day, you’ll be my friend. We need each other to live, doing what we do. I am not going to hurt you. Especially not when I know what it’s like.” She breathed deeply and noticed that Candace was crying in silence. “I’m sorry, Candace,” she whispered. “It shouldn’t have happened to either of us.”
“I’m sorry, too,” said Candace, bringing a halt to her crying. “I’m glad you’re not like the other ones. The priests, I mean, or, oh to hell with it–I don’t like cons. I’m glad I can trust you.”
Asp thought of the money hidden behind the stone in the fireplace. “Me too,” she said, and handed Candace a handkerchief to wipe her eyes.
You can read the next chapter here!
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