You can read the previous chapter here!
“How are we gonna be sure she’s gone?” asked Jehosaphat as he walked with Asp. He propped up his straw hat to scratch his scalp, blinking slowly. He sounded cautious but firm.
“We’re gonna see her leave ourselves.” Asp dodged through the marketplace toward the edge of town where she had met the dwarven inventor. She noticed that Jehosaphat could not keep up with her agile maneuvering, so she slowed her pace.
Jehosaphat offered a resigned smile. “That would be ideal.” He glanced around the marketplace in a practiced move that looked natural. “If we can make it happen.”
Asp hid her frown from him. So far, I’ve succeeded at everything I’ve proposed to the gang. But no one‘s giving me full credit for that. It’s as though each new plan needs to be re-demonstrated as potentially successful to each member of the gang. This is exhausting. Before leaving the warehouse early this morning, Asp would have said that Jehosaphat was the person in the gang who most believed in her, so this tentativeness about her plans was especially challenging.
“Benelin tisket regorin, nekol dikae,” Asp said in her best elven.
Jehosaphat looked surprised, then grinned. “True, the elders have always said that we need faith in our worst moments. But the elders don’t live like us.”
Asp hid another frown. “This way,” she muttered, and she led him down a narrow street to the intersection where she had met the dwarf. “It was right here,” she said, gesturing to the corner where people milled around them.
They stood on opposite sides of the corner, scanning the urban landscape. For a while, they watched any dwarven woman who passed with care, but again and again, Asp had to shake her head at Jehosaphat to indicate that no, this was not the woman they were looking for.
After an hour had passed with no luck, Jehosaphat checked his surroundings and meandered over to Asp. “No luck. What now?”
Asp didn’t make eye contact. “I just gave her more money than she’s likely to have had in months, if not years. If I were her, I would have gotten very drunk last night and then slept in today.”
“You did get very drunk last night,” he clucked.
“And then I got up very early to make sure that everything goes to plan.” She flashed him a joyless smile.
Jehosaphat shrugged and returned to his corner of the intersection.
-
Three more hours had passed. Jehosaphat had made several more of the short trips over to Asp required to badger her about the lack of results. It occurred to Asp that perhaps Oslo had sent Jehosaphat along for more than the reason that he didn’t want to go himself–he might just want to see if Jehosaphat had any better luck controlling her. Asp smiled to herself with a spark of defiance; Oslo would be disappointed.
Lost in the endless scanning for a familiar dwarven face, Asp almost leapt off the ground when a heavy hand placed itself on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Annabel.
“Oslo’s wondering when you’re coming back,” she whispered.
Asp didn’t take her eyes off the corner. “When we find her.”
Annabel sighed. She looked up at the sun, holding a few fingers up for comparison. “It’s gonna be noon soon.”
Asp swallowed her frustration. Even Annabel, who was clearly the nicest member of the gang, seemed certain that everything they had done so far was just a jaunt in the wrong direction.
When Asp didn’t respond, Annabel tried again. “I know that you and Candace aren’t really getting along yet, and that argument you had this morning before you left was rough, but we all do really want your plan to work. We’re just not used to betting big on things that require . . . What does Oslo always call it?”
Asp tried to help her come up with the right word. “Charm? Finesse? A delicate touch?”
“Fortune,” replied Annabel. “That’s what it is. ‘We don’t bet a fortune on fortune.’”
Asp closed her eyes and rolled them. What kind of cons are they, anyway?
“Anyway,” continued Annabel, “Oslo says we might have a way around this. He says maybe we can bribe a guard to lock her up if she turns up.”
Asp flinched but kept watching the passing people. “Gimme one more hour. Please.”
Annabel held up her hands, looking helpless. “He wants you two back at the warehouse.”
Asp shook her head, her jaw set. “One more hour,” she repeated.
Annabel looked embarrassed. “He said that if you wouldn’t come willingly, that I should carry you back.”
Asp stopped looking at the people in the intersection. She peered up at Annabel, and with absolutely no affect, she replied, “Annabel, I am either going to find this woman, or I am going to starve to death waiting for her.” She returned her gaze to the people. “You can tell Oslo that I won’t be–”
Asp was being lifted through the air. Annabel was holding her a foot off the ground as Asp shook and twisted and tried to break free. Jehosaphat’s low voice had a soothing edge to it: “Now, now, if you struggle that much, it looks like we’re kidnapping you. Just relax.”
Asp opened her mouth to argue with him, but Annabel shoved a leather knife sheath into her mouth, keeping her from being able to form intelligible words. She continued to writhe and twitch and scream through the sheath. People nearby seemed perturbed by her situation, but Jehosaphat assured them, “Poor girl. Prone to seizures. This is, unfortunately, the only thing that will help her.” The bystanders nodded gravely and returned to their days.
Annabel carried Asp swiftly through town. Asp watched, helpless, as people, businesses, carts, and animals passed by, and she fought to keep herself from giving up, screaming as loud as possible into the sheath and fighting Annabel’s grip.
The trio rounded a corner, and Asp finally relented a bit. It was clear that Annabel was the muscle here for a reason–Asp’s tiny frame could do nothing to resist her. She wondered how many people had been overpowered by worse than being held–what is it like when Annabel wants you hurt?
Suddenly, in the middle distance, emerging from a small dwarven restaurant, was the dwarven woman, the inventor of Asp’s ticket into the museum. Asp resumed screaming, tried pointing, tried to rain blows down on Annabel to get her attention. But all of her signaling looked very much like her previous fruitless struggling, and the dwarven woman disappeared from view as Annabel carried Asp away and towards the warehouse.
-
Annabel lowered Asp to the floor, and Asp immediately spit the sheath onto the ground. She wheezed, caught her breath, and slumped into a pile.
“I see you needed transportation,” said Oslo, a laugh unhidden in his voice. Candace snorted.
“You idiots,” spat Asp. “ I saw her. She’s here.”
Jehosaphat frowned. “Where?”
“Back at the center of town, coming out of a restaurant. She was heading back towards where we were. If you had just let me stay for another five minutes, we would have had her!”
Candace stood. “You put all our eggs in one basket, and that basket stayed here in town. We can’t use your plan if she’s here.”
“Yes, I remember from our conversation this morning,” said Asp, turning to face Candace.. “And I would have solved the problem if you’d let me.” Asp rubbed her wrists where Annabel had held her.
Gregorio clucked his tongue. “It seems we’re locked in a disagreement that we can’t talk our way out of. All that remains is either getting this woman out of town or going back to the old plan.”
“And so I am going out to find her again, but I’m going to need at least one person to actually help me here.” Asp’s voice was more pleading than she intended.
Oslo tapped the table he sat at. “You need to check in with the curator, though, right? Perhaps we can set that part of this straight before we go chasing this dwarf anymore.”
Asp nodded, deep in thought. They want me to think they’re on my side, but I’m not stupid. She inhaled deeply. “Tell you what, everybody. I’ll go handle the curator and the dwarf, and you all just do whatever the hell it is you do. But I’m only gonna say this next part once: do not interfere with me again. It’s already cost us, and I refuse to take the credit for our failures when it’s you all who have stopped us from succeeding.”
Kyrn and Dancer looked tentatively between each other. Annabel laughed nervously, and Jehosaphat let out a low, long whistle. Oslo shrugged theatrically. Candace simply said, “Have fun with that.”
Before anyone could say anything further, Asp stomped out the door.
-
The museum was more populated than it had been the previous day. It took a while to make it to the heart of the museum, and Asp soon stood before a guard who watched by the entryway to the new exhibit.
“I’m here to see Curator Gorman,” she said, curtsying deeply.
The guard didn’t move at all. “You have an appointment?”
I know the trick to questions like this: don’t answer them. “We spoke yesterday. I have information on an artifact he wants to include in the exhibit.”
The guard raised an eyebrow. “Name?”
“Delia Violet,” she said, beaming.
“Stay here,” the guard said, disappearing into the room behind him.
He emerged only a few moments later, Gorman following closely behind.
Gorman smiled, his upper lip curled like a wolf’s. “Ah, yes, Ms. Violet. I’m glad you came by. What is the state of affairs of your contact?”
“He’ll be arriving in town tomorrow,” lied Asp. “He has with him a curio of mysterious origin, though he believes it to be a collaboration between dwarven smiths and newtkin tinkers.”
Gorman’s eyes grew wide, then narrowed. “I’ve never heard of such joint work. And your contact has a physical specimen of this craftsmanship?”
“Yes, he says that he has one perfectly restored artifact for you. Even the gears still work like new!” Asp tried to make her passion seem like it was directed at the gadget and not the conversation itself.
“This is fantastic,” said Gorman, glancing around. “And by what name will I know your contact?”
Asp kept the smile from her face. “Gilbert Hardlaurel-Timberline,” she pronounced with care. “Inventor and historian of technology. I’ll warn you, though, he’s something of an eccentric.”
“Excellent,” replied Gorman. “Once he has submitted the artifact, I will present his payment and your finder’s fee.”
Asp tried not to look surprised. “Finder’s fee?” she repeated dumbly.
“Yes, of course,” said Gorman warmly. “You will receive a not entirely modest sum for helping the museum to build its new exhibit, and Mr. Hardlaurel-Timberline will receive his own payment for bringing us the artifact.”
Asp put on a performative smile. “But of course. Thank you so much, Curator Gorman. I’ll return after Mr. Hardlaurel-Timberline has submitted it.”
“But won’t you be making introductions? I would love it if you could be here when Mr. Hardlaurel-Timberline arrives.” Gorman smiled at her, and his eyes roved up and down.
Shit. “Oh, I’ll try, but I am quite busy this week, and I will also admit that Mr. Hardlaurel-Timberline and I work well as a duo, but not necessarily as a team. He is, as I said, a bit eccentric.”
“All the more reason for your help! If you can help me navigate around his eccentricities, I could perhaps boost your finder’s fee.” Goreman’s smile grew more crooked.
Double shit. “As I said, I am simply too busy tomorrow, but let’s say that if you and Mr. Hardlaurel-Timberline need some help after your initial meeting, I will be there.”
Gorman looked up at the ceiling, lost in thought. A moment of uncomfortable silence passed between them. Suddenly, he looked back at Asp. “That will do, I suppose. Thank you for your help. Good day, Ms. Violet.”
Asp offered a gentle wave and headed for the door. She wound back through the older exhibits and into the entrance. She was preparing to step through the front door when she heard a familiar voice. She spun around, and there, just about to walk into the main museum, was the dwarven inventor.
Asp stopped in her tracks, rigid. She quickly picked her way through the throng of people and deliberately bumped into the woman.
“So sorry–” Asp began.
“Oh it’s you!” cried the dwarf.
“Well would you look at that? How was your night, ma’am?” Asp’s voice was warm and inviting.
The dwarf looked dreamily around. “Oh, quite nice! I upgraded my room to one with a nice mattress, and I had a few drinks. I was about to hit the road, but I heard that there was a new exhibit here on gadgets and inventions coming, and I wanted to talk to the curator about it.”
Triple shit. “Oh, I don’t know if I would go in there. I was just interviewing the curator here for an article I’m writing for the museum.” Asp looked one way, then the other, then lowered her voice: “He said some things about dwarves that were a little . . . concerning. The whole exhibit is just newtkin stuff, and I heard him tell a guard to hassle dwarves who come to see it.”
The dwarf raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Really? I mean, I know folks around here have chips on their shoulders, but that’s pretty bad.” She sighed. “That’s okay. Instead of talking to him, I’ll just see what they have.”
Asp ran some mental calculations. She couldn’t realistically accompany the dwarf around, keeping her from bumping into anything that would throw the operation off. It would be risky to try to get her to immediately leave town. But then, that’s what everyone needed. Asp’s mind raced, and finally settled on a gambit she had tried many years before on one of her first jobs.
“Say, you’re from the Myriad, right?” Asp asked, concern heavy in her voice.
“I am,” said the dwarf easily. “Why do you ask?”
Asp looked down at the floor as though in pain. “I heard that there was an attack in the heart of the capital. You don’t happen to know anyone in Hammergrad?”
“Oh no, I do,” said the dwarf, on edge. Great. “What’s happened?”
Asp sighed and shook her head. “They’re not sure if it’s a domestic terrorist thing or an outburst of magical energy or what, but lots of people got hurt. Especially in the poorer districts.”
“Angbadr Tearholm, no!” shouted the dwarf, invoking her peoples’ god. “My family is there!” Jackpot. “I’m sorry, excuse me, I have to go!” The dwarf all but ran out the door and into the streets.
Asp allowed the tension that always rises when conning someone to dissipate. She stood in place and felt the pulsing and chattering of the people in the room become a familiar sensation, like lying on the beach with waves lapping around her. She quieted her mind, shutting out the periphery, the words of the gang, the near-misses she had had with fate. All was silent in her mind for a time, and then she heard a gentle voice in the back of her head. “But you’re my Heather,” she heard her mother say. “You’ll always be my Heather.”
The voice snapped her back to reality. She glanced around, shuffled out the door, and was on her way.
-
Asp paused before the warehouse door. She could hear the gang talking and laughing inside. She was waiting for the right moment to enter–she felt she had earned a grand entrance.
A peal of laughter–mostly Dancer and Candace–sounded inside, and Asp pushed the door open. She stood in the doorway, looking over the gang. Each of them turned and stared at her. She was expressionless, a statue of herself. As the quiet moment stretched, she stayed motionless, and as she sensed that the gang was growing tense in the silence, she stepped boldly inside, slamming the door.
“Does anyone know how to spend a bunch of money? Because the plan is on,” she declared.
A cheer went up from the gang. Even Candace seemed excited, though she appeared to be trying to hide that fact.
Oslo cracked his knuckles in a self-satisfied way. “Let’s hear it–how’d you do it?”
Asp grinned slyly. “Oh, a little of this, a little of that . . .”
Jehosaphat chuckled, then added, “I think he means less bragging and more making sure we’re all up to date.”
Asp doubled over laughing at her mistake. “Of course. Sorry, still getting used to working with other people.” She took a seat at the table across from Oslo and looked around at the faces watching her. “The dwarf is gone–I talked her into leaving town, and she’s probably already gone by now–and I talked the curator into meeting with our inventor tomorrow.”
“And what’s the plan for that?” asked Gregorio, loading a pipe.
Asp lowered her voice to a man’s register. “Gilbert’s got it covered.” A few members of the gang flinched at her new voice, but Oslo simply grinned. Asp continued. “Then, I’m inside the museum distracting the curator and the guards while the rest of you do your work, then helping outside with moving the treasure.” Asp moved a few mugs and bottles around the table, constructing a facsimile of the museum. “See, the guards will be here, so Kyrn and Dancer will be with them to snag the keys. Annabel and Gregorio watch the entrance–between the two of them, they should be able to defuse anyone who wants to come in. Oslo will be collecting the keys and getting them to Candace, who’s going to get the chest out of there, where Jehosaphat and I will be waiting.”
Annabel clapped a few times in excitement. “This is actually shaping up. Very nice, rookie.”
Gregorio exhaled a mouthful of smoke. “Yes, I must admit that you’ve done well so far. Perhaps if this job works out like you say, we can change some things around here.” He gestured around the room. “I’ve had my eyes on an abandoned mansion in the center of town–we could each have our own rooms . . .”
“The haunted one?” asked Dancer. “I dunno about a haunted house.”
Oslo laid his hands on the table with a thud. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves. Rooms of our own would be nice, but let’s not forget that we’re still basically poor for now.”
The gang nodded its agreement and sat silently for a minute.
“So, anything else to report?” asked Jehosaphat. “Any other details that came up we should know about?”
Asp thought back to Gorman’s words. Both Delia and Gilbert would be receiving “not modest” payments for the invention. If Gorman was telling any kind of truth, it would be a significant payday on top of the job itself.
“Not that I can think of,” she lied.
You can read the next chapter here!
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