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“Good morning,” said Candace, her voice aglow.
Asp had just opened her eyes. She was lying on her bed. Days before, when they were furnishing peoples’ rooms, Candace had been adamant that everyone have a full Ronan'el-bearing bed in every bedroom. It occurred to Asp now that Candace had likely thought ahead and realized she couldn’t spend the night on a slightkin-sized mattress. Candace was next to her, their eyes locking as Asp woke the rest of the way up.
“Good morning,” Asp whispered. Her eyes settled on the golden fleck in the shape of a heart in Candace’s right eye. She smiled.
“Ooh!” cooed Candace. “That smile! What is that smile?”
“What are you talking about?” asked Asp.
Candace beamed. “When you’re Delia, you do this wry little smile, like you’re in on something with the person you give it to. When you’re Penelope, you have this very pretty smile, but it’s so reserved. It’s like a note that says, ‘I’m happy’ in polite handwriting.” Candace began to sound dreamy. “But sometimes–like right now–you get this big goofy grin. It’s like you’re so happy you don’t care who knows it.”
Asp laughed. “You’re right: I’m happy, and I don’t care who knows it.”
“So what’s with this smile?” asked Candace, her eyes alight.
“It’s not a deliberate smile,” Asp said, her voice hushed.
Candace cocked an eyebrow. A moment later, she asked, “You mean all those other smiles are you choosing to smile?” There was growing disbelief in her voice. “You can do that? You can just . . .”
Asp placed her hand on the side of Candace’s face. “The same thing that you are worried about right now is the only reason you know me in the first place, and it’s the only reason I can stick around. It’s not comfortable, not for either of us, but I can’t just turn off being what I’ve learned to be. Not any more than you could start clunking around without any grace. How do you think I felt when you followed me and Wanda? That was you using your skills on me, wasn’t it?”
Candace nodded. “I’m sorry, Asp. It’s taken me years to be okay with even working with cons. But this is a whole different thing.”
Asp offered what she hoped would look like the genuine smile Candace liked so much. “I guess that’s okay. We both have time to get used to it, right?” She tried to sound diplomatic, but without sounding like Lady Penelope. It was difficult.
Candace flashed a big smile in return. “You’re right.”
The sound of someone walking on the floorboards above came down from the ceiling.
“Sounds like Jehosaphat’s stirring,” said Candace. “Which raises the question, should I get back to my room before anybody catches me here?”
Asp sighed and flopped onto her back. Staring up at the ceiling, she said in an affectionate tone, “You sure do love to drop big stuff on me.”
“I do!” cried Candace, jumping on top of Asp. They wrestled for a moment, and then Candace wrapped an arm around Asp’s neck and braced; Asp was locked in a hold. “Now,” said Candace, “are we sharing this with the gang?”
Asp pretended to choke and sputter. Candace released her, and Asp began to laugh. “I was faking,” she said through the laughter.
“Of course you were,” said Candace, sighing. “Now seriously, what do you want to do?” Her voice was on the edge of pleading.
Asp sat up and returned her gaze. “Candace, do you want them to know?”
“Oslo acts kinda funny about it,” said Candace. “But I think mostly people would just be surprised.”
“When you say ‘Oslo acts kinda funny about it,’ you mean ‘no relationships in the gang,’” Asp said, pausing, “or ‘no ellindar?” She pronounced the elven word for “women attracted to women” delicately, unsure of how Candace felt about it.
Candace shrugged. “I’m not really sure.”
“Then how do you know he feels that way?” asked Asp.
“There were a couple of girls in the gang when I joined, and Oslo found out they were together, and he made life kinda hard on them. They both left–one skipped town, and the other got nicked. We all kinda figured it was best to keep that kind of thing private, but–”
“But what, Candace?” interrupted Asp, bewildered. “You just painted the perfect portrait of why we shouldn’t say anything.”
Candace slumped her shoulders. “I guess you’re right. It’s just . . .” she looked around the room, her eyes coming to rest on Asp’s costume dummies. “It’s not that I can’t just say, ‘Hey everybody, I really like Asp,’ it’s that nobody said I can’t, and I still can’t. Even the guards are more decent than that–they’ll tell you what you can’t do, usually without your asking.”
Asp looked at Candace. She felt the beginning of what might have been pity, but which was softened by affection. “Candace, you’re absolutely right. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences. We are people who avoid risks.” She smiled to soften the blow of what she was saying. “Let’s avoid this risk.”
“Can you at least say, ‘not yet?’” asked Candace.
Asp moved a few inches away from Candace. She spoke slowly and clearly. “Candace . . .” began Asp. “Wait, I never learned your last name.”
“I never learned your last name. Or even your real name!” said Candace, her voice playful and daring.
“My real name is Asp,” said Asp, knowing that this answer would not be accepted.
“Your mum named you Asp?” demanded Candace.
“No, but that’s not what a real name is,” explained Asp. “The name I choose for myself is Asp, so it’s my real name.”
“What did your mum name you?” insisted Candace.
Asp felt anger rising in her. Don’t let anger decide what you do. Don’t let a mood determine your future, Asp. Of course she doesn’t understand–she’s just Candace to everybody.
Asp grew very quiet. “She named me Heather.”
“Heather,” repeated Candace. She seemed not to know how to feel about the name.
“Yup,” said Asp, anxious at being vulnerable. “But I really can’t have you calling me that–not ever. Not in front of people because they can’t know–that name is burned where I come from–but also because I don’t think of it as my name.”
Candace considered this, then smiled like she had a secret. “Delia Violet. Penelope Jasmine. Gilbert Hardlaurel. Heather.” She shook her head, laughing. “You are such an incredible dork.”
“You caught me,” Asp said, grinning. “So, your last name?” she asked after a moment of laughing with Candace.
“Higgins,” she replied. “No special name patterns for me. Do you have a last name, or is that not a slightkin thing?”
Asp smiled. “Of course slightkins have last names,” she said. “I guess I never really came up with a last name to pair with ‘Asp.’ My family is the Turnkeys.”
Candace laughed in surprise. “That’s so cool! So you were Heather Turnkey, and you decided to just be a snake?”
She was pushing at Asp with good intention, but it wasn’t landing that way. I already said that I don’t think of it as my name, she thought. I don’t want to stir things up already, but I should say something. But how? She tried to focus. Act like it’s a con, but don’t lie. Be gentle and sweet.
“Candace,” began Asp, her voice small. Candace noticed the change in Asp’s tone and looked at her, all business. Asp took a deep breath and let it out. “My name is very special to me. Whenever I act like one of my characters, their name is how I get into their minds. And ‘Heather Turnkey’ can be a ‘cool’ name all you like, but that name will get me locked up. ‘Asp’ is a protection, but it’s also who I have chosen to be. Please. Forget about Heather. You wouldn’t have liked her much anyway.”
Candace smiled. “Sorry,” she said. “Like I said, I don’t really get the whole con thing. But I’ll try to get it for you.”
“Thanks,” said Asp, the weight off her now that she had communicated with Candace. That wasn’t that bad, she thought. Maybe I can do this. “Anyway, enough of my ancient history. Do you have anything I should know about?”
“Ancient history?” repeated Candace, deflecting. “I guess you get enough of that at your other job.”
Asp covered her face with a pillow and groaned. “I still can’t believe I work at a museum,” she said, her words muffled by the pillow.
“How’s it going over there anyway?” asked Candace, propping herself up on her elbows and pulling the pillow away.
“You know, I am not totally sure, to be honest,” said Asp.
Candace chuckled. “Fair enough.” She made her way to the door to the hallway and listened there for a moment. Hearing no one, she cracked the door and looked up and down the hallway. “We’re clear,” she said, crossing the hallway and opening the door only a few feet away.
“Did you pick the room across from mine?” asked Asp, impressed.
“Now I have an alibi for being near you,” said Candace with a smile, and she disappeared inside her own room.
Asp closed her door and dressed, then went down the hallway, down the stairs, and out of the manor into the morning air.
-
“By time period seems interesting, but I feel the public would get more out of the grouped types of device,” said Lilina, scratching her chin.
“By period gives you the ability to address the general history of the world, though,” countered Steelmaker.
“Why not both?” asked Asp, entering the room as Lady Penelope.
“Both?” repeated Lilina and Steelmaker in a confused unison.
“Include the general histories you want with the overall message we already discussed, and then group the items by type for the advantages Lilina described,” said Asp.
“I’m sorry, Lady Jasmine, is that a bruise on your face?” asked Lilina, concerned.
Asp’s hand shot to her cheek. I forgot I’m all banged up. I gotta get a mirror in my room. I could have hidden this. “I’m afraid it is,” she said.
“What the hell happened?” thundered Steelmaker.
“I went to visit Kinkaide yesterday as we discussed. But my journey back home was delayed, and you see, I was set upon by some highwaymen.” Asp tried to explain this without emotion to downplay its seriousness.
“Highwaymen!” gasped Lilina. “You were attacked on the road?”
“I was,” confirmed Asp. “They took everything I had except the clothes on me and my emptied coinpurses.”
“We keep telling the city guard to send the patrols out further on the roads, but do they listen?” growled Steelmaker. “And now a member of the highest strata of society has been savaged by brigands!”
Asp raised her hands to try to calm them. “What’s done is done. I will pursue this with the city guard. Right now, we have an incredible opportunity. Listen carefully; Kinkaide could be here any minute.” Steelmaker and Lilina crowded in around her. “I have convinced him to contribute a series of plows to our exhibit.”
“I thought you went for clocks,” said Steelmaker.
“But there’s more,” Asp said, smiling. “When I spoke to him about the clocks, he was adamantly opposed. I was beginning to fear I would have no better success with him than Lilina here.” Asp nodded to Lilina. “But we began to talk about the improvements in farming technology he has sought out, and I talked him into sharing a collection of plows with us. This collection of four plows spans a good deal of our exhibit’s functions.”
“This is good news,” said Lilina, placing her hands together before her.
“But there’s still more,” said Asp, leaning in. “Kinkaide is personally delivering these plows. When he arrives, we are going to show him our display here. We are going to explain our aims, our ideas, the things that are going to make our exhibit different from all the rest. And if I am right, he is going to like what he hears. When I described our plan to him yesterday, he couldn’t help but agree with me. So if we just put our best foot forward, we may be able to show him that it’s worth sharing his most prized collection with the public.”
Steelmaker was looking at Asp like she was either crazy or frightening. “Is this how the nobles really work? With calculated efforts to change peoples’ minds?”
In the back of Asp’s mind, she could hear him continuing, Like a common con artist? She felt herself being constricted by the thought. Redirect before this gets uncomfortable.
“You are describing diplomacy, Mr. Steelmaker,” she said. “Convincing two armies ready to fight that they don’t want to fight is not a matter of revealing unseen truth. It is a matter of showing that what both sides want is actually the same thing. And if you find that unseemly, you can kindly return the peace and prosperity that all these ‘calculated efforts’ have earned for you.” Asp finished this speech and considered for a moment pressing the silver pendant. But something deep within her dared her to go on. “Now, Steelmaker, are you going to help us show Kinkaide why we do what we do? Or do you plan to sabotage our display on principle?”
He blinked several times, then rubbed his face with both hands. “I’ll do my best,” he muttered.
“And you?” said Asp, turning to Lilina.
Lilina looked surprised to be spoken to, as though she were still considering something else. “Of course, Lady Jasmine.”
Asp assumed a professional smile. “Then get this place as close to public-ready as possible. I don’t know when he’ll be here, so–”
“If you mean me,” said Kinkaide, sweeping in as Lady Penelope had, “then it seems you’re out of time.” The mutton-chopped human looked around the room and eyed Lilina warily. “Is that a rack loom?” he said, turning to look at the items in the display.
“Indeed it is,” said Lilina. “This loom was obtained for us by Lady Jasmine, and as you can see, the craftsmanship of the woodwork is highly ornamental, which tells us that there was an abundance of time and resources in this period that would allow for such work.”
Kinkaide nodded. “From what I understand, this type of loom was only built for a tiny stretch of time.” He pointed to the abacus-like loom to the left. “These were produced for thousands of years,” he said. He turned to the wooden loom with a foot pedal on the right. “We used these until the end of the industrial period, correct?”
“Absolutely correct,” said Steelmaker, nodding. “You really know your stuff.”
“I try,” said Kinkaide. His face was blank. “But my point is, this rack loom was really only in vogue for a matter of generations.”
“But of course the pedal loom couldn’t possibly have been engineered from the early loom,” said Steelmaker. “The rack loom is the awkward middle child of the technology.”
Kinkaide laughed once, then considered again and laughed louder. “That is a most curious and yet accurate analogy.” He took a step away from the looms and toward the spectacles. “This is part of the work Lady Jasmine told me about. You are transforming the arcane art of academic research into something that the public will care about. Hopefully, at least.” A pair of burly dwarves entered the room carrying a heavy steel plow; Kinkaide gestured to Asp, who pointed to a platform on which to place the tool. They set it down and left the room. Kinkaide continued: “How do you plan to turn things that have been ignored for decades–if not centuries, or even longer–into the talk of the town?”
Steelmaker and Lilina looked to each other, uncertain.
“That’s why we’ve chosen everyday items,” explained Asp. “When a farmer is told about a museum, it is all about things that exist outside of that farmer’s world: high art, ancient artifacts, inventions with no practical use. But now, thanks to you, we have plows,” she said, pointing to the dwarven workers who carried in another plow, this one dull and narrower than the first. Asp indicated the place for the second plow and continued speaking. “So that when the farmer hears about the museum, he can now learn the history of his own world.” She gestured to the looms. “Do you know how many people have worked looms in the last several thousand years?”
“It would be impossible to know,” said Kinkaide, chafing at the question. “It would be millions, surely, but one could never say for sure.”
“We are telling some of those people the stories of the rest of those people,” said Asp, a touch of intensity in Lady Penelope’s calm demeanor. “We want to make people care about history–as you say, for the first time in maybe centuries or more–by showing them that history is about them too.”
Kinkaide turned suddenly away, wiping a tear from his eye. “History is about us all,” he said passionately. “Tell me the plan with my plows,” he continued once he had composed himself, striding up to the first one the workers had brought in; meanwhile, they hauled in a third plow, this one shining dark brown and sharply pointed.
Asp nodded to Steelmaker and Lilina, who had been caught up in listening. Lilina stepped forward.
“Well, of course we will need some time to assess what you’ve so graciously brought us,” said Lilina –don’t lay it on too thick, girl, thought Asp–”but from the research I have previously done, I can tell you that the story of the plow is a story of available materials. So much of what we normally have is progressed by technological methods, but as different woods and ores became available through trade spreading across the world, the work of plows really advanced.”
“You say trade is a factor?” asked Kinkaide. He was glaring daggers at Lilina.
Careful, now–he knows the answer to this one, thought Asp.
“Yes,” said Steelmaker, “but in two complementary ways. More trade means better designs for everyone, of course, but that also means that before all this trade, plows were designed in highly regional ways given what was available. And so we have to distinguish not only history, but also geography.”
“That’s a difficult concept,” said Kinkaide. “How do you plan to explain that to the public?”
He’s definitely testing us. How long is this going to go on?
“More or less how he just did,” said Lilina. “Lady Jasmine wants us to create a world map that shows the materials and the progression over time as various civilizations contacted each other. Our goal is that a member of the public could identify the region and type of plow after looking at our materials.”
“Could you do that now?” Kinkaide asked as the last plow was placed on the display. It appeared to be constructed of wood and lined with thin pieces of metal. “Tell me about this one,” he said, resting a hand delicately on the large steel-plated plow.
C’mon, you two. Show him. Earn those clocks.
“This is a late smithing era plow, almost certainly from the dwarven lands,” said Steelmaker with pride. “The handles are mahogany, which isn’t a dwarven tree but rather a newtkin tree, meaning that it has to have been after the second great contact. The steelwork tells us that it wasn’t tempered with modern methods, meaning it had to come from before the second industrial push. And given the pattern that was stamped into the plow here at the base, we’re talking about a southern dwarven dialect, judging from these accent marks. I think we could quite confidently say that it’s from the Axefall region within about twenty years of 240 years ago.”
Kinkaide smiled. “As a matter of fact,” he said, “it was produced in the Axefall region 234 years ago by one of the first dwarven smiths to trade with the newtkins. Very well done. I feel that my plows are in good company here.” He turned away from Lilina and Steelmaker. “Would you walk with me?” he asked Asp.
“Leaving so soon?” replied Asp, keeping the nervousness from her voice.
“I’m about to have business back at my estate,” he said as though it had some meaning that Asp was supposed to understand.
“Well then, by all means,” she said, “let me walk you out.”
Kinkaide waved to Lilina and Steelcrafter, who were uttering polite goodbyes to Kinkaide. He walked into the next room, which was filled with paintings and a few statues, and stood before the paintings.
“I see what you have done here,” Kinkaide said when they were alone.
“I beg your pardon?” said Asp in genuine confusion.
Kinkaide considered a painting of a yellow Ronan'el soldier alone in the forest. “You invited me here not just to change my mind about the museum.”
Asp knew it was best to just stay silent.
“You wanted to show me that my clocks would be in good company here too,” he continued. “Did you ever care about the plows, or was that just a way to get me here?”
Asp put on a defensive look. “I can tell, Mr. Kinkaide, that you do not hold your fellow beings in high regard.”
Kinkaide scoffed. “Hardly something I keep secret.”
“Aren’t you afraid it clouds your judgment?” asked Asp.
Kinkaide narrowed his eyes at her. “In what way?”
Asp looked around as if the answer were right there. “You assume all people are bad. Then you meet someone who isn’t bad. But you still assume they’re bad. And so you never realize that they really just wanted to help you the whole time. You never get to have what they could have given you.”
“And what are you giving me?” asked Kinkaide, a challenge lurking in his voice.
Asp made eye contact for a moment, then spoke as though she were disappointed. “I want to give the public a chance to learn something. I want to give the museum a chance to be something more than a hangout for pretentious debutantes.” She intensified her eye contact. “I want to give you a chance to change how you interact with people. I want to put your name on the exhibits you’re providing. That means that every person who walks in here and sees their own history on display–they all read your name on half our items. Do you realize what that says?” She broke off and started gesturing wildly as she spoke. “You would not be the distant man in the ivory tower. You would be the benefactor of the people. When they hear your name, they won’t think anything but ‘that’s the man who cares about us being in touch with our past.’” Asp stopped moving and stood stock still. “If you bring in your clocks, everyone gets something good.”
Kinkaide considered this for a moment. “And what do you get?”
“I get the pride of knowing I did something to make the world a slightly better place for other people,” lied Asp, trying desperately to feel that statement being true in her heart.
Kinkaide suppressed a laugh, then straightened up as he realized that Lady Penelope stood by what she was saying. “You’re a curious little woman, you know that?” He turned back to the painting of the yellow Ronan'el soldier in the woods. “I feel like that sometimes, you know. Alone in hostile country, never knowing what comes next.”
Asp patted Kinkaide on the arm. “You don’t have to be alone,” she said, her voice small and gentle.
“Stop working,” he said, almost irritated but still gentle. “I’ve already decided. The business back at my estate which I referred to is yours.”
“What?” said Asp, blinking in surprise.
“I made my mind up before I left the exhibit room. I’m returning to the estate, and I will send some clocks along. They should be here before the day is up.” Kinkaide looked away from the painting and back at Asp. “What do you need exactly?”
Asp tried not to jump up and down. “We need three clocks. You’re at least as informed as Steelmaker and Lilina in there, so I trust you to send along the three that would be best for what we’re attempting here. And Mr. Kinkaide?”
“Yes?” he asked.
“Thank you. I know what it is to be alone in enemy territory too.” Asp smiled at him, feeling the force of a genuine grin. She nodded to Kinkaide. “And I really meant it–you don’t have to be alone.”
Kinkaide smiled back. “Take care now, Lady Jasmine,” he said, and he exited the museum.
-
“Well, we can, but what if she finds out?” Annabel’s voice came down the hall as Asp snuck into the estate. She padded down the hallway and waited just outside the living room. The entire gang was gathered in the living room.
“You think she’d be mad we went after them?” asked Kyrn. “I mean, I think she was only saying not to worry because that’s typical us–pretend you don’t care when you really need something done.”
“If she says she wants nothing done,” said Oslo, his voice commanding, “then nothing needs to be done. We’re not in the business of making decisions for each other.”
“If they had killed her, she couldn’t have given us permission to do something,” said Jehosaphat, on edge. “Doesn’t change the fact we’d try to do something about it.”
“So, what then?” said Dancer. “We go down the road and hope they jump all of us?”
“You saw her face,” said Candace, almost shaking with rage. “I saw the back of her head. They brutalized her. They could have killed her.”
“So just send the muscle,” said Annabel, thumping on her newly restored armor, which shone in the low light of the room. “I go with a few hired thugs, and we let ‘em have it.”
“But they’re not gonna jump a small army of goons,” argued Oslo. “Like it or not, the people who jumped her are not getting caught that easily. I say we close this discussion until such a time as the conditions have changed. If there’s one thing we know about our Asp, it’s that something is always likely to happen soon.”
Asp crept back to the front door and slammed it, then ambled down the hallway and into the room. The gang was all in performatively casual positions, and Asp couldn’t help but laugh.
“What?” inquired Annabel with a trace of nervousness in her voice.
“Awww,” said Asp with genuine affection. “You’re all so cute when you’re pretending you weren’t just talking about me.”
A mixture of sighs, cries of surprise, and laughter resounded in the room.
“How much did you hear?” asked Jehosaphat.
“Just enough to know you’re not hunting any highwaymen any time soon,” replied Asp, laughter in her voice. “For which I thank you. If we run into them again, we’ll worry about it then.”
“How’s your head?” asked Candace in an overly casual tone.
Asp put a hand gingerly on the back of her head. It still hurt to touch, but it had soothed to a low ache rather than a sharp pain. “Better,” she said, wincing.
“We were just sitting down to discuss leads,” said Oslo, waving Asp over. “Updates: what angles are you finding? For me, it looks like there’s a chance we could get into the vault at a gold mine not too far away; I’m still working the operation for details. Jehosaphat?”
Jehosaphat licked his lips. “There’s word that there’s a shipment of some raw materials coming in in the next few weeks. I keep hearing this same jargon for part of the shipment–’crystal page.’ Don’t know for sure what it means yet, but I suspect it’s some kind of hard drug. Could be good money. We may need to get a few people hired at the shipping yard for it.”
“That’s fine, mighty fine,” said Oslo, his eyes alight. “Annabel?”
“Well, Kyrn helped me some with brainstorming,” Annabel began. “So, there’s a magic cuirass that got captured by some bandits. I was thinking we could get people to go after the bandits, but be in the group that goes to deal with them so that we can recover the armor.”
“That’s a good start,” said Oslo, grinning. “Let us know if you need any light-hand work done. Dancer?”
Dancer clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Hold onto your socks, everybody, because I have two words for you: Church of Light.”
“That’s three words,” said Kyrn, suppressing a laugh.
“Only if you count ‘of,’” countered Dancer. “Now, the Church of Light has been gathering members like mad for months. And they have mandatory tithing. So every week when they do main services, there’s loads of coin they have to store. They don’t trust a bank, so they keep it in the building. No real security to speak of. I’m pretty sure we can get in and out without a problem–it’s just a matter of carrying all the money.”
“Never boring with Dancer,” said Oslo, chuckling. “Sounds like a good plan. What about you, Kyrn?”
“I was thinking maybe we take advantage of the annual city pride parade. I know it’s still a while away, but I keep thinking about last year. I mean, you all remember how much I got from just lifting from people while they watched?” Kyrn looked each of the members of the gang in the eyes in turn as she spoke. “If they’re that focused, then maybe we could get away with something bigger. I know you said the bank is too heavily guarded to hit, but on parade day? Maybe not.”
“Always good with the timing, Kyrn,” said Oslo, a dangerous smile on his face. “We might combine that with another plan, even. What do you have, Gregorio?”
“I have a line on some forging tools. We may be able to make coinage that would fool even a banker. But my contact is being stubborn about prices. We’ll see,” said Gregorio, folding his hands in his lap.
“Counterfeit money is easy money,” said Oslo, rubbing his hands together. “Keep at it. Candace?”
“I know you shot it down last time, but I think it’s time,” said Candace.
“Candace, what’s changed?” said Oslo, exasperated.
“Her,” said Candace, pointing at Asp.
Oslo began to sigh, then stopped. “Actually . . .”
“Can someone tell me what is going on?” asked Asp.
Candace smiled. “I have this idea. So, you know how the guards confiscate everything from us when we’re arrested?”
Asp shrugged. “I guess so. I’ve never been nicked.”
“Quit bragging,” said Candace, a huge smile on her face. “So the point is they’ve got a huge chest of valuables in the jail. Everything that gets confiscated gets locked up there. All kinds of stuff–coins, jewels, magic stuff–I mean, it’s a serious payday.”
“And we get it out of the building how?” asked Asp.
“Once a month, the guards transport the entirety of the month’s confiscated valuables to city hall, where it’s transferred into the city’s vault.” Candace was drawing an imaginary map of the city in the air.
“And I come in where?” said Asp, craning her head to the side as if to better understand. .
“You’re in good with the Captain,” said Candace. “You distract him while we pull the job.”
“It’s a risky plan, Asp,” said Jehosaphat. “But we can also use it to wipe our records clean and potentially score blackmail material on all manner of people.”
Asp thought of the Captain and his quiet, thoughtful demeanor. There was no way around it. He scared her. I always feel like he knows who I really am, and he’s only not saying so to make me stew in discomfort. “If we’re all in,” said Asp finally, “then I’m in.”
Buzz and chatter erupted from the gang. Oslo quieted everyone down.
“And how is it at the museum?” asked Oslo. “Anything we missed?”
“I was hoping they would replace their fancy treasure chest with something more expensive,” she lied. “It seems like they’re going a different direction, more of a populist approach.”
“Well,” said Oslo with strained patience, “next time, I’d suggest starting somewhere new.”
“Of course,” said Asp, smiling. “I’ll start somewhere new next time.”
“To next time,” said Jehosaphat, raising an arm in the air.
“To next time,” echoed the gang, throwing their arms up in solidarity.
-
For the second time that day, Asp entered the museum. There was a small group of armed men who had delivered Kinkaide’s clocks minutes before, and Asp watched as they spoke with Lilina and Steelmaker about the location and handling of the devices.
“And Mr. Kinkaide says that this is not to be touched without gloves on,” said one of the guards, a lanky human.
“Gloves only,” muttering Steelmaker, scribbling on some parchment which was already quite covered in notes. “Anything else?”
“When is the exhibit over?” asked the guard. “Or rather, when can he expect these back?”
“He can take them back any time he wishes,” Asp told him, cutting Steelmaker off before he could answer. “But we would like this exhibit to run for three months–enough time for most of the local population to visit and see it.”
“Three months?” echoed Steelmaker. “I thought you said–”
Asp stepped hard on his toe. “Three months, exactly what I said,” she finished. “But of course, as I also said, if Mr. Kinkaide wishes to dismantle the exhibit before then, that is of course his right. We would not have an exhibit without him.” This guard had better convey how damn diplomatic I was.
“I’ll let him know,” said the guard, turning to leave. “Don’t forget the instructions,” he said as he exited the room.
“Three months?” said Steelmaker, exasperated, as soon as the guards had left. “I thought we were trying for three weeks.”
Asp turned to face him with a wicked smile. “What’s wrong with a little extra time?” she asked.
“But what if Mr. Kinkaide thinks that’s too long? Won’t he pull the clocks sooner?” asked Lilina.
“Have I steered you wrong yet?” asked Asp. “Has anything I have told you turned out to be distant from the truth?”
Lilina shrugged. Steelmaker cleared his throat. Neither seemed willing to speak.
Asp smiled to herself and continued. “Next month, when we would have been packing up our monument to the people, we get to keep it. Well beyond that, even. Why are you not excited?” Asp allowed some exasperation into her voice.
“What if the people hate it?” asked Steelmaker.
“What if they say, ‘that’s just trash. Who cares?’?” Lilina sounded defeated.
Asp walked up to Steelmaker and Lilina and beckoned them both to lean down towards her. They did so. She slapped them both hard in the face. They jerked back to standing positions.
“Listen to yourselves!” shouted Asp. “You’re brilliant historians who have assembled the most progressive and accessible approach to history that is likely to have ever existed! You just convinced a man who hates you to share his most prized possessions with you! And even though neither of you seem to want it, you’ve already taken the first step down this road. You can’t get stage fright the moment someone looks at you! Have some self-respect, have some damn confidence, and have yourself a good time changing the way we tell the story of our past and present!”
Lilina and Steelmaker stood shaken next to each other. Steelmaker rubbed his slapped cheek.
“I didn’t realize a diplomat could be so harsh,” complained Lilina, looking sideways at Asp.
“Did you hear what I said?” asked Asp. Her tone and eyes were deadly serious.
“Loud and clear,” replied Steelmaker, touching Lilina on the elbow. “You’re right. Just some stage fright. Right, Lilina?”
“Right,” said Lilina.
“Now, I have some other business to attend to for the next several days. Please keep this together. And don’t take what I said personally,” ordered Asp. “I’m just returning you to your senses.”
“I suppose you are,” said Lilina. “Good night, Lady Jasmine.”
“Good night, both of you,” Asp said and started into the next room, eyeing the paintings where she and Kinkaide had spoken. The yellow Ronan’el seemed even more intrepid than he had earlier. She noticed that a familiar geometric shape was on the floor of the room. Asp stepped over to it and picked it up. “Hello, Xyz,” she whispered. Weird–I thought he was still in my bag. But he wasn’t there when I got attacked. Where’d he go?
“Hello again,” came Xyz’s mechanical voice. “Your presence is requested. Will you join us?”
“I will,” said Asp, clearing her mind.
White light flashed. It was like being suddenly picked up, spun around, and set down again. She kept her eyes closed tight until she could feel the floor beneath her.
“Orchid,” said Melwi’s stilted voice. “You have done so well.”
“Have I?” asked Asp. “I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing for you.”
“Did you notice,” said Melwi, “that you always knew just what to say despite that?”
“I like to think that I always know just what to say,” said Asp, losing the fight against the inclination to bristle. “It’s my job.”
“Yes, it is why I selected you,” Melwi said with a mysterious smile. “Did you realize that you had such an interest in history?”
Asp rubbed at the wound on the back of her head. “I don’t know that I have an interest in history specifically,” she started.
“But when you were asked to develop the public understanding of history, you had a perspective that moved the hearts of several people trained in the discipline,” said Melwi, their eyes clear. “You came up with the ‘common people’ approach quite on your own.”
Asp considered this for a moment, thinking back to her work in younger days. “It was just doing what I do. You want someone to listen to you, you tell them that it’s really about them. So the public doesn’t want history? Then history’s about them.”
“That is a rather cynical approach, is it not?” Melwi looked like a concerned parent. “You don’t think that there is something good in what you have done?”
“Wait,” said Asp, placing her hand on her forehead. “Do you mean to tell me that the purpose of working at the museum was for me to do something good?”
“Of course not,” replied Melwi. “I wanted access to Kinkaide’s clocks. You separated him from part of his collection and placed some of his choicest specimens in public where we already know heists happen. You practically handed me the clock I want.”
Asp marveled at Melwi. “You wanted a clock, so you told me to become a curator?” She tried to keep her voice level. “Why not just ask me for the clock?”
“Would that do any more good than just asking Kinkaide for the clock?” Melwi looked at her with curiosity. “Orchid, do you understand why I was indirect with you?”
Asp opened her mouth to answer, then reconsidered. It’s been a long day, but it’s going to be longer if I don’t think this through. Why would Melwi be indirect? She pondered for what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time. Finally, she crossed her arms. “Because that’s what I would do.”
Melwi allowed themself a smile. “Because that’s what you would do,” they repeated. “I mentioned a payment,” they added. “It comes in two parts. The first is a payment of currency.” Melwi waved a hand, and a clasped wooden case flew over from the side of the room. It made small, glassy clinking sounds as it moved, settling at Asp’s feet. “You may open it,” said Melwi, their voice warm for the first time since Asp had met them.
Asp undid the latches and opened the case. Inside were six rows of gleaming dwarven-cut sapphires. It appeared to be about twice as much money as the gang had made from the museum heist. She whistled a high note and then a low note and refastened the latches. “Thanks!” she said, shaking off the shock of seeing so much money in one place.
“The second part is protection. I cast a spell when the clocks entered the museum,” explained Melwi. “None of your gang can be seen if within a few feet of your new home.”
More magic? “What does that mean?” asked Asp. “Can’t be seen?”
“If one of the eight of you is close to the building, you simply fade from sight. Invisible. And the doors will always appear to be closed to anyone besides your gang. No one will ever be able to tell that you’re there,” explained Melwi.
“That’s . . . that’s incredible,” stammered Asp. “Thank you.”
“And Orchid,” said Melwi. “If I need your help again, may I seek you out?”
Asp looked Melwi up and down. This seems too good to be true. But then, working at the museum hasn’t been easy. She looked at the case of sapphires. Screw it.
“I’m here if you need anything,” said Asp, bowing.
“I’m glad of it,” said Melwi, bowing their head. “Now good luck with your journey.”
Again there was a flash of light. Asp was turned, twisted, and dropped back somewhere else, and it occurred to Asp as she traveled that she had no idea how far away Melwi’s lair was from Strey, or from anything else for that matter.
-
Asp opened her eyes and was surprised to find that she was standing a few feet from the side door to the estate. In her right hand was the loaded wooden case. She opened the door and crept in.
Inside, Dancer was asleep on a couch, and Annabel was passed out with a bottle of whiskey in her hand. Jehosaphat sat in the corner, knitting with dark blue yarn. He looked up when he heard Asp walk in.
“I didn’t know you knitted,” said Asp, admiring his work. “What are you making?”
“A shawl,” replied Jehosaphat, holding up his progress. “Oslo laughs that I knit–he calls me ‘Grandma’–but it keeps my hands dextrous, and it’s constructive.”
“Hard to beat,” said Asp, placing the case down between herself and Jehosaphat. “I, uh . . . I need your advice,” she said, looking at the case.
“You lift something?” he asked. “Ordinarily, we ask Kyrn or Dancer to do that work if we can.” He continued to look at his knitting. “Not that you aren’t capable, of course, but it’s less risk if they do it.”
“I earned it,” said Asp, her pride bristling again. She hesitated. “I don’t know what to do with it.”
“Well, child, tell me–what did you earn?” Jehosaphat’s voice was rich with curiosity.
Asp looked at Dancer and Annabel where they slept and confirmed that their breathing patterns were truly sleeping people’s. If anyone would know what to do, it’s Jehosaphat. He takes my side over Oslo’s–I can trust him. Right? She unfastened the latches and let the case fall open.
Jehosaphat’s eyes bulged at the gleaming sapphires. He seemed to be holding his breath. Asp closed the case.
“You earned it, you said?” he sounded nervous. “How the good hell did you do something worth that much money without any of us knowing?”
Asp shrugged. “I don’t think I’m allowed to say.”
Jehosaphat narrowed his eyes. “You mean magic, or gods?”
“Magic,” whispered Asp. “I think,” she added a moment later.
“You think?” Jehosaphat was incredulous. “Maybe I don’t want to know.”
“I’m not telling,” said Asp, tired. “I’m only asking what to do with the money.”
Jehosaphat looked pityingly at her. “Asp,” he said as though she couldn’t have been more ridiculous, “tell me you took some out for yourself already.”
Asp blushed. Jehosaphat smacked his own face and dragged his hand down over his mouth.
“Here’s what we do,” he said, putting his knitting aside. “You stash as much as you want wherever you can, and you give the rest to Gregorio in the morning.” Jehosaphat looked up, thinking. “You do not give it to him in this case, because then he can tell how much you had before you hid some for yourself.” He picked up his knitting needles again. “And you better have a story for Oslo about how you got the money you gave Gregorio. He is not just going to accept this much falling in our laps without an explanation.”
“He’d want to do the same thing again,” said Asp, nodding, “and that would be impossible.”
Jehosaphat nodded back sagely. “Why don’t you get some rest?”
“I think I will,” said Asp, picking up the case. “Thanks, Jehosaphat. Good night.”
“Good night,” said Jehosaphat. He shook his head and smiled as he resumed his knitting.
Asp crept up the stairs, trying to avoid detection. She was therefore quite surprised when, as she opened the door to her room, she heard a door creak open behind her. She reached into her room and put down the case before turning to Candace.
“Hey there,” said Asp, donning her most innocent expression.
“Hey,” said Candace, a smile on her face. “You look like you’re healing up okay. How’s your head?”
“Better,” said Asp, fingertips brushing the back of her head.
Candace put on a mock-frustrated face. “Better than when you got hit, or better than earlier when you said ‘better’?”
“Both,” said Asp with a smile.
Candace returned her smile. She lowered her voice. “Are you in need of a nurse for your wounds tonight?”
“Sure,” said Asp, genuine excitement in her voice. “Just give me a minute or two to get comfortable.”
“Okay,” said Candace, grinning. “I’ll give you a minute.”
Asp stepped inside her room and closed the door. She walked over to her dummies and popped open each of their secret compartments. Into each, she stuffed piles of sapphires. She was working fast, but her quick count told her that she had enough to purchase a whole block in a decent neighborhood. I always dreamed about this happening, and now that it’s happening, I don’t know how to feel about it. With many of the sapphires tucked away, she clasped the secret compartments shut and let the clothes fall back over them, hiding the mannequins and the compartments completely. The case was still nearly half full, and she began to slip sapphires into her empty coinpurses, even throwing a pile into a handkerchief which she tied in a tight knot. I’ll turn over the handkerchief tomorrow morning, she thought to herself. She hid these coinpurses in her room’s secret chamber and stashed the empty wooden case under the bed. Candace swung the door gently open as Asp finished slipping into her purple nightgown, Lady Penelope’s clothes safely draped on a dummy.
“I really like that nightgown,” said Candace.
“You just like that it means I’m all yours,” said Asp, allowing herself to be feisty.
“No,” said Candace, her eyes glittering. “I like it because you’re you when you wear it. No Delia, no Lady Penelope, no weird little newtkin guy–”
“Gilbert,” corrected Asp.
“Gross,” said Candace, shaking herself off. “No, when I see that nightgown, I know I’m talking to you. And I think I finally am ready to say it: I’m not worried about you lying to me anymore. I trust you. I know that if you had something bad, you’d let me help, and if you had something good, you’d share.”
“Thanks, Candace,” said Asp, a gentle smile on her face. “I know it’s not easy.”
And as they lay there whispering into the night, growing closer and closer, Asp prayedthat Candace would not notice the empty wooden case that was just inches beneath them.
You can read the next chapter here!
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