You can read the previous chapter here!
“No fair!” cried Dancer. “That one bounced twice!” He pointed to a cap on the ground between the estate’s living room wall and a chalk line he had drawn on the floor. The living room was strewn with foods and beverages from across the city.
“Back in the Myriad, you get two bounces,” said Gunther, his eyes on the ceiling.
“Really?” asked Dancer. “That’s weird.”
“Yeah, when dwarves play wall caps, they get two bounces,” explained Gunther with an abundance of energy.
“Oh,” said Dancer, understanding. “I guess that’s your point.” He launched another shot, aiming this time for two bounces. The cap skittered across the floor.
“That’s not true,” said Annabel after the coin finished sliding. “Dwarves play one bounce like everybody else.”
“Thanks!” said Gunther, doing his best to sound as sarcastic as possible. “I almost had something going.”
“Hardest lesson I had to learn when I joined up,” said Jehosaphat, “was letting go of the independent streak. We’re not marks, you realize–we’re the main thing keeping you from being arrested.”
“Except my own wits,” said Gunther.
“So then we’re the only thing keeping you from being arrested,” added Candace, laughing to herself. Gunther’s face soured.
“Be nice,” warned Jehosaphat, though it wasn’t clear whether he was talking to Gunther or Candace. He turned the piece he was knitting to the side and began again from a new angle. “Asp, would you take Gunther over to the guardhouse and give him the rundown?”
“Me?” asked Asp. “Next to him, I’m the newest member of the gang.”
“You’ve been an expert on Strey for two years, Asp. And you’re the only one who can safely hang out around the guards,” reminded Jehosaphat. “Just show him who to look out for.”
Asp nodded. “Can do. Gimme a minute to change.” She dashed upstairs and threw on her Delia garb, grabbed her notebook and inkpen, and was back down the stairs. Gunther was standing by the side door.
“You ready?” she asked.
“Sure.”.
“Okay,” she replied. “Let’s go.”
She cut a long path through the city streets. “This is a good road for staying out of the public eye,” she explained, gesturing up the street they were on. “Anybody can blend in here.” She pointed down a narrow, winding alleyway to their left. “If you need to get to the west side of the city, that’s a good shortcut. Just be careful–couriers use it as a shortcut too, so it’s not exactly private.” She pointed down the right path at the fork ahead. “That way to the main gate–” She pointed down the left path. “–and that way to the guardhouse.”
“Damn,” said Gunther in a low voice. “This might be the first useful information anyone’s given me since I got here.”
Asp flinched a bit at his negativity. Was I like this when I started? “Good,” she went on. “Now, the guards all wear these blue uniforms, right?”
Gunther nodded. “Not too hard to see.”
“Well, that’s the thing,” said Asp while nodding her agreement. “In low light, the blue is dark enough to look black. So at night, be thinking about that.”
“Right,” said Gunther. He belched.
“You see through that window on the left?” she asked. She nodded her head toward the window on the side of the guardhouse.
Gunther squinted his eyes in that direction. “Sure. Little office, a middle-aged elf guy in there.”
“That’s the Captain of the Guard. Elven man, spectacles, greying at the temples,” said Asp with pauses so that Gunther couldn’t miss anything. “Can you see what he’s wearing?”
Gunther strained to the right, then to the left. “Some kind of elven suit?” he guessed.
“It's a business suit, modeled in the elven style like you said, but made like the guard uniform, and it’s grey. So don’t get caught up looking for just blue, because most of the guards here are either stupid or bribable–though it’s best not to find out–but the Captain is legit. He knows his stuff, and the only reason he hasn’t locked me up is because I’ve been very careful.” Asp tried not to make it sound like bragging.
“Annabel said the Captain thinks you’re a reporter?” said Gunther, though there was little question in his tone.
“Something like that,” said Asp, smiling. “See, I’m a reporter now–call me Delia when I’m dressed like this–and the Captain knows me best that way. But like I said, I have to be very careful. He also knows me as a diplomat and as an inventor.”
“Oh, as different people,” said Gunther after a second. He rubbed his eyes. “Don’t that get old?” he asked.
“Does what get old?” she replied.
“Being different people, having to think that hard about everything?” He placed his hands on the pommels of his longswords. “Don’t you just wish you could carve things up and leave?”
Asp considered. She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped. Finally, she said, “Look, Gunther–I know you’re tired of hearing it already. I don’t want to be the umpteenth person to repeat it to you.” She turned to face him. “But you can’t work like that anymore. You want to kill first and ask questions later, you better go do it on your own.”
“If Oslo didn’t like what I do,” reasoned Gunther, “then he wouldn’t have brought me in.”
Asp gritted her teeth. This is gonna get ugly. Damnit, Oslo. “Here’s a little secret, Gunther,” she whispered. “Oslo either lies without your knowing, or he lies with your knowing. He wants you to feel like you’re here for some special purpose so that you stay long enough to want to stick around, but he doesn’t really care. He did it to me, too. He still tries to do it to me. You know, when he started me out, he wanted me to be a mulberry bush.”
“A what?” Gunther looked amused.
“A mulberry bush,” said Asp, shaking her head.. “Thief-tongue?” She mimed crudely. “Pop goes the weasel?”
Gunther laughed, doubling over, after a moment’s recognition. “Did ya do it?”
“Absolutely not. And that’s my point,” continued Asp. “If you believe what Oslo is telling you completely, then you’re going to end up swinging your swords at someone bigger than you. But if you try to be a part of the gang, you have the rest of us on your side, and you can get more for doing less.” Asp watched as some gears in Gunther’s head turned.
“More for less,” he repeated, his gazelost in the clouds. “I do like the sound of that.”
“Ooooh, right there!” said Asp, pointing to a tall and thin human guard in the middle distance. “Be careful of that one. He’s really out to clean up the city–no bargaining with him. His name is Nesbit.”
“Look out for Nesbit,” repeated Gunther. “Okay. Anything else?”
“Yeah, one last thing: there’s a grey Ronan'el guy, Trask. Tall, with an eyepatch. He works with the guard, but he’s crooked as a hungry wolf’s teeth. We pay him a bit every week to keep him on our side. Oh, there he is!” she said, pointing towards a muscular Ronan'el with an eyepatch as he stalked by. “If you’re in a spot where you have to get nicked, get nicked by him. He’ll make it easier to get out.”
“Good to know,” said Gunther. “Thanks, uh, Della?”
“Delia,” corrected Asp. “Is there anything in town you need that you haven’t found yet?”
“I could use some ash,” Gunther replied, his eyebrows raised.
“Ash?” repeated Asp. “As in ‘fade into another reality’ ash?”
Gunther grinned. “You familiar?”
“I know my way around it,” said Asp, trying to sound neutral. “I have a dose back at daily service.”
“Daily service?” repeated Gunther.
“It’s our name for the estate,” explained Asp. “No one bats an eye at ‘daily service,’ but they do at ‘someone lives in the haunted mansion in the middle of town.’”
“Well, I thank you kindly,” said Gunther with a formal affect. “Let’s head back.”
Asp led Gunther back through the city, this time on a different route, showing him the different things a criminal should know in Strey.
-
“I feel like step number one is figuring out what they’ll stop for and what they won’t,” offered Kyrn. “The plan’s no good if we get out there and they ride right past us.”
“But if we try a few things to see what they do, they may see what’s going on and change their response,” countered Candace. “I mean, what if they decide to beef up security after we poke around?”
“There’s bound to be issues either way,” said Jehosaphat, shaking his head. “The best we can do is give ourselves the most likely shot at what’s inside.”
“True,” said Oslo, tapping his forehead in thought. “We can’t bet on both at once, so we gotta decide. Let’s put it to a vote.”
There’s been a lot of voting lately. Does Oslo actually care what we think all of a sudden? What’s going on? wondered Asp.
“But . . .” began Annabel. “Gunther’s not here.”
“Fair point,” returned Oslo. “What did you say was the matter with him, Asp?”
He’s about as conked out on ash as a person can be, she thought. He had almost the entire half a cube I had left. “Sleeping off a headache,” Asp said as if she were bored.
“Let’s just see if his vote would even matter,” said Oslo, an edge in his voice. “Hands for experimenting with the guards before we get there?”
Jehosaphat, Gregorio, Annabel, and Kyrn raised their hands.
Oslo’s shoulders slumped as he counted. “And for leaving the guards be until the job?”
Oslo, Dancer, Candace, and Asp raised their hands.
“That’s what I thought,” said Oslo, deflating. “A tie. I guess Gunther decides it when he’s feeling better.”
“About Gunther,” said Asp. “I don’t know if he’s going to fit in like we want him to.”
“Asp,” said Oslo. “Do you know how many of the gang came to me to tell me the same thing about you?”
Asp frowned. “I don’t want to know, do I?” She looked at the rest of the gang. Everyone but Annabel and Jehosaphat had guilty looks on their faces. “Ouch,” added Asp. “Didn’t realize I was that bad at the start.”
“We all take time,” said Jehosaphat. “It’s harder for some than for others.”
“As I recall, Asp,” said Oslo, pointing toward her, “you changed your tune around the time we started actually working the job. I see no reason we shouldn’t give him the same courtesy.”
“These are all good points,” said Asp, nodding to everyone who’d spoken. “I just can’t shake my instincts. They’re telling me something is wrong, and I have survived by trusting my instincts.”
“It’s easy to credit your instincts,” said Jehosaphat, his eyes distant. “It’s harder to remember all the times we felt something that wasn’t real.” He looped yarn around a knitting needle before resuming speaking. “Just relax and enjoy the fact that you’re twice as safe now as you were last week.”
Would Gunther help me? Asp wondered. Is he like Annabel? She remembered the time last year when Annabel had knocked out a newtkin who had gotten too fresh with Asp; the look on Annabel’s face at the time had told Asp all she needed to know–Annabel hadn’t thought so much as just reacted. Would Gunther choose to protect me if he didn’t have to?
Asp nodded to Jehosaphat. “You’re right,” she said, though she was still quite worried. “I should give him a chance.”
-
“I’m gonna go grab some dinner,” called Asp, heading for the side door of the estate. “Any requests?”
“Corn’s in season!” cried Annabel. “Cornbread, please!”
“That trout you brought last time was great,” said Jehosaphat.
“Maybe some stewed greens?” offered Kyrn.
“I’ll see what I can do,” said Asp, heading out into the night.
“Wait up!” yelled Candace. “I’ll help.” She joined Asp just outside the estate.
“Thank you for your help, mighty food carrier,” said Asp in a regal tone.
“Oh yes,” said Candace in her own queenly voice. “I have carried the foods of a great many important people in history.”
“I took roast duck to the elven queen,” said Asp in her regal tone. “And mashed potatoes to the gods themselves,” she added, beginning to laugh.
Candace laughed too. “I once delivered a cake to the sun.”
“That’s a lot of hot air,” said Asp, smiling cartoonishly and waiting for Candace’s reaction. .
“Dammit, you know I hate puns!” said Candace, laughing harder than she wanted to.
“Oh hush,” teased Asp. “You just don’t like them when other people think of them first.”
“That is both unfair and entirely true,” countered Candace.
“Hey, Candy–I’ve been meaning to ask you something for a while, but I haven’t felt great about asking,” said Asp after a pause.
“What is it?” Candace asked.
Asp braced herself. “Remember when I had just joined the gang and you got all angry at me because I asked why you wanted Dancer out of jail so bad?”
Candace went stiff next to her. “Yeah?” said Candace, her voice strained.
She’s uncomfortable. Be extra careful. She softened her tone as much as possible. “What was that about?”
Candace laughed in a pained sort of way. “Dancer knew I like girls. And he’s kept it a secret. I owe him. I just . . . wanted him to be okay.” She looked at Asp. “And it was really important to me that you knew when I wanted you to know.”
“I understand,” said Asp, patting Candace on the shoulder. “I’m sorry I hit a nerve for you.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” said Candace, though she wasn’t as cheerful as she had been a moment before. “Oooh, check out that Ronan'el lady–that’s a pretty suit of armor.” Candace pointed to a silver Ronan'el woman walking the opposite way down the street. Is she just changing the subject?
Asp followed Candace’s outstretched finger and froze. It was the same silver Ronan'el woman who had robbed her on the road two years before. Wait, is it? she thought. Looks like her. But she hasn’t seen me yet? Asp glanced down. I’m Delia. She robbed Penelope. I’m safe.
“What is it, honey?” said Candace quietly, noticing the change in Asp’s posture.
Asp turned to her. “That’s the one who robbed me on the road back when I was first starting.”
Candace’s face turned pale. Her fists clenched hard, her knuckles going white. She began to mutter under her breath. Asp caught some phrases between Candace’s heavy breathing: “. . . nasty bitch . . . cut her apart . . . not my honey. . .”
Asp put a hand on Candace’s clenched fist. “Candy, calm down. This isn’t the place,” she said, trying to convey her worry with her voice. It didn’t work.
“Don’t ‘Candy’ me right now, Asp,” hissed Candace. “She doesn’t get to get away with that.”
“Wait,” ordered Asp. What will get her to relax? “Let’s follow her. See where she goes. She might lead us to the other one.”
Candace hadn’t taken her eyes off the passing Ronan'el woman. “I’m gonna kill her, Asp,” she seethed.
Holy shit. This is a side of Candy I haven’t seen before. “Not yet,” said Asp, shocked. “Please, just follow her with me.” Asp pointed to something on their left, then pulled Candace over to see it.
“What are we looking at?” Candace asked as Asp pointed to the house in front of them.
“Nothing,” said Asp with a smile. “We’re turning around without attracting attention.” She turned back to the direction from which they had come. “See? Now we’re following her, and no one is the wiser.” They fell into step several paces behind the Ronan'el.
Candace’s posture had gone stiff. Her whole body seemed to lurch forward with every step, and it was all Asp could do to cover up Candace’s violent body language. The silver Ronan'el walked down the long street and turned to the city’s main gate. She walked up to a black Ronan'el with a scimitar hanging from his belt.
“That’s the other one,” said Asp, pointing to him behind her hand. “His name’s Pyrin, I think.”
Candace started to walk towards them. Asp ran after her, grabbed her leg, tried to hold her back. But Candace was much bigger than Asp, and she pulled Asp across the square without really trying to. They were only about fifteen feet away from the pair of highwaymen when a large grey Ronan’el man in a guard’s uniform and eyepatch stepped in the way.
“Excuse me, miss,” he said at normal volume. Then he whispered, “Candace, if she’s trying to calm you, you should listen. This is very public, and not the place for whatever’s got you like this.” Then he nearly shouted, “Welcome to Strey. Can I help you find something?”
Candace slowed her pace, the Ronan'el guard between her and the highwaymen. “Get outta the way, Trask,” she said, looking past him. “Not the time.”
“Not the time, exactly,” said Asp, pulling on Candace’s arm. “Let’s wait until we stand a chance.”
“I can’t fake a report if the whole city sees you assault someone unprovoked,” said Trask. His hands were on Candace’s shoulders, holding her back.
Candace pushed once more at Trask, then relented. “Fine,” she said. “But this is not the end of this,” she added, turning away from Trask.
Asp watched as the silver Ronan'el and Pyrin left the gate and headed down the road toward Kinkaide’s estate. Back to their old game. She looked up at Trask. “Thanks,” she said. “That would have been very ugly without you.”
“Not a problem,” said Trask, surveying their surroundings. “We all get a little wound up sometimes. I know that look, especially on Candace.”
“Thanks again,” said Asp, then took off after Candace.
When Asp was able to catch up almost a block later, she said, “I know why you felt that way, and I wanted to say thank you.” Asp rubbed the back of her head and felt the bump of the scar through her hair. “I haven’t forgotten what they did to me, and I don’t just mean the pain. I haven’t felt safe outside of the city since then. I wish they hadn’t taken that from me, but they did. And I want to take it from them.” Asp sounded sad now. “I want to do something that makes them afraid to ever leave home without looking over their shoulders every few seconds. I want them to have it worse than I did.” She allowed her voice to go a little louder. “But we only get one chance at it. So let’s not spoil it.”
Candace looked rigid, and she avoided Asp’s eye contact. “Everything you’re saying makes sense,” she said. “But it feels all wrong.” She placed her palms on her new boots, feeling the lace on her skin. “I understand you,” she said after a moment, “I just–I feel differently. If somebody hurts my love, you better believe that I’m gonna hurt them worse.”
“Candy, we are gonna hurt them,” said Asp, nodding hard. “We’re gonna make them worse off than they ever made me. You just gotta trust me. Wait.”
Candace wrapped an arm around Asp. “I trust you,” she said, her eyes wide. “I trust you to the ends of the earth.”
“I don’t need the ends of the earth,” said Asp, giggling. “I just need you to not openly assault a stranger in full view of the entire city.”
Candace snorted, then laughed. “I did almost do that, didn’t I?”
“You really did,” said Asp, laughing as well. “Thank the gods for Trask.”
“Good old Trask,” said Candace, smiling. “Hey Asp?”
“Yeah?” Asp turned to meet Candace’s eyes. There’s that golden heart, she thought for perhaps the thousandth time.
“Do you think we’ll ever be able to be honest with the gang?” Candace asked. “About us, I mean?”
Asp tried not to slump her shoulders. This again. “Maybe,” said Asp, trying once more to avoid the conversation. “I mean, we’re still pretty sure that Oslo wouldn’t take well to it?”
“Yeah,” admitted Candace, taking a knee before Asp to make eye contact more naturally. “I guess that’s true.”
Asp’s mind raced, and she smiled. “But there’s another way,” she said.
“Another way?” repeated Candace, raising an eyebrow. “What have you got up your sleeve?”
Asp grabbed Candace by the shoulders. “What if we left?” she asked. “What if we ran away?” Her eyes were bright. “We could make a living, just the two of us, and we could be however we want.”
Candace considered it. “Hmm. That’s a lot of pressure we’d be putting back on ourselves. And the gang is like family to me.”
“But we could just be us,” said Asp, her voice and eyes distant. “We wouldn’t need to check the hallway every time you come to visit. We could be comfortable.”
Candace sighed. “Let me think about it,” she said.
Asp frowned. “I knew you wouldn’t like it.”
“I like it,” said Candace with genuine enthusiasm. “It’s a good plan. I just–how about we talk about it again after this next job?”
“One more job, and then we make it on our own,” said Asp, gesturing with her finger. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“I said let’s talk about it,” pleaded Candace. “Besides, we both know that I get what I want when we disagree.” She smiled at Asp. “Save yourself the struggle.”
Asp looked back in complete seriousness. “Agree to come with me, away to something new.” She swept her hands away and mimed soaring through the air.. “You, me, and Rose.”
Candace smiled. “You, me, and Rose,” she repeated.
-
Asp and Candace entered the estate and walked into the living room, where the rest of the gang was gathered. In the middle of them all was Rose, who was chasing a small ball around a circle created by the seated gang members. When Asp and Candace entered the room, Rose mewled and rushed towards them, leaping onto Candace’s leg and licking at Asp’s hand.
“It’s time,” said Oslo. “We’re all here.” He turned to face Gunther, who looked groggy and pale. “We talked earlier. We need to decide whether to go at the wagon first and figure out how they act or to not set them off and just go. It’s down to you. What do you think?”
Gunther looked around the room in surprise. “It’s my call?” he asked.
“We’re tied,” explained Oslo. “So what’s it going to be? Test the wagon, or keep them unawares?”
Gunther shrugged. “If we’re just hittin’ ‘em, let’s take ‘em by surprise.”
Asp tried not to sound too aggressive in her disagreement. “It’s not hitting them, exactly,” she explained. “We’re distracting them, stealing keys from them, and getting the thing out without their knowing.”
“Right,” said Gunther, stroking his beard. “But that’s damn close to hittin’ them.”
“It’s a gentle hit,” amended Oslo. “A push, you could call it.”
Everyone but Asp laughed.
“A push,” repeated Gunther. “Yeah, let’s just push ‘em.”
Oslo nodded. “You heard him, folks. We’re not testing them. That means tomorrow, we start drawing up plans. We need to be ready for if they stop, if they don’t stop, if everything. We’re gonna be so damn ready for this that we go automatic on the job.”
“And until then?” asked Gunther. His eyelids seemed heavy.
“Let loose,” said Oslo, grinning. “But not too loose! We need to work in the morning.” He smiled to everyone, then leaned in to Gunther. “So no more of the you-know-what tonight,” he whispered in a fatherly tone.
“Uh, okay,” mumbled Gunther.
Kyrn stood up. “Drinks here?” she asked. “Or drinks out?”
“In,” cried Jehosaphat.
“Out,” countered Dancer.
Kyrn clapped. “Vote! In?”
Jehosaphat, Gunther, and Gregorio raised their hands.
“Out?” said Kyrn.
Dancer, Annabel, Kyrn, and Candace raised their hands.
“You two didn’t vote!” said Kyrn, pointing to Asp and Oslo.
“I abstain,” said Oslo. “I defer to my people.”
“Asp?” Kyrn insisted.
Asp laughed to herself. “I got so caught up in all the voting, I forgot to cast mine.” She rubbed her forehead. “Since I can only cause a tie or a win, I’ll cause a win. Let’s go out.”
“Yes!” cried Dancer, pumping his fists in the air. “To The Brimming Mug!”
“Again?” teased Kyrn. “Do you like the ale, the prices, or the waitstaff most?”
Dancer blushed. “Can’t I like all three equally?”
Annabel folded her arms in front of her. “Dancer, you’re shameless. Last time we were there, that poor waitress looked like she might stop caring how well you tip.”
“It’s all in good fun,” bristled Dancer. “I don’t say anything gross, and I don’t touch her. I just tell her she’s beautiful.”
Candace sneered but spoke in gentleness. “Uh, you know, here’s the rule for telling people that they’re beautiful: are you already engaged in a romantic endeavor?” She glanced at Asp, then back to Dancer. “If yes, go for it. If no, keep it to yourself. Admire from afar.”
Dancer blinked a few times. “Are you all saying I’m really bothering her? I don’t want to be a creep.”
“You might not be in deep creep territory,” said Kyrn, “but you’re on the map. Be careful.”
Dancer put his hand to his mouth. “Okay. I’m gonna figure this out. For now, let’s go to The Salty Air!”
“I’ll accept the Salty Air,” said Jehosaphat. “A good compromise if ever I heard one.”
“Let’s go!” cried Kyrn, leading the way out of the estate.
“Hey, thanks for telling me,” said Dancer to the group. “I’m gonna apologize next time we go.”
Candace put a hand on Dancer’s shoulder and looked back at Asp. “You’re a good one, Dancer,” said Candace, and she smiled at Asp. “Don’t change.”
-
“For a sailor’s life is a life of hope
And hope is hard at sea
We row and toil and tie the ropes
But the water does nothing for we!”
sang a chorus of dwarves, humans, and Ronan'el, joined by a drunk Jehosaphat. The next verse continued about the many troubles of a sailor, but the voices of the chorus at the bar were triumphant.
Asp watched as the many drunken men sloshed together drinks and belted out their song. Kyrn walked by with a blue Ronan'el, who Asp heard talking as they passed about how the ticketing agent at the shipyard had been fired for theft. Asp turned to Candace, who was grinning like she could barely contain herself. .
“You’re so beautiful,” she said to Asp in an impression of Dancer. It was just accurate enough for Asp to know who it was an impression of.
Asp smiled. “We’re in public,” she whispered to Candace.
“SO PRETTY,” gushed Candace. A few bar patrons turned at the volume of her voice and watched the pair at the bar.
Is this a bit, or she actually that drunk? “Candace, people are looking,” Asp said with panic in her voice.
“I love you,” pronounced Candace, and kissed Asp with a quick, sweeping movement. Asp felt herself paralyzed. She could hear the tavern getting quieter around them. When Candace pulled back in a clumsy flop, Asp looked around. Many of the sailors in the chorus were watching and had stopped singing. The gang was watching–every one of them.
“So that’s why you wouldn’t be a mulberry bush,” spat Oslo. “How long has this been going on?”
Asp was furious. That’s all he has to say to us? Like we’re a problem? She marched to the door. She turned past Oslo. “Fuck you,” she said, her voice shaking. She walked out the door and into the night.
Through the city, she walked blindly. She took turns without knowing why. She thought of leaving town, but the memory of the black and silver Ronan'el back in town made that impossible. She took more turns, getting further and further from the city center. Can I go back to daily service again? What’s happening to Candy? There’s no talking my way out of this. She turned again, walked a few blocks, stopped. Where am I? I feel like I was walking here for some reason. She turned to her right. It was the house with the uneven steps in the slightkin quarter. She walked up the stairs and inside.
It looked just as she had left it. There were a few floorboards out of place where the guards had removed them when searching for her; there was still no furniture. Even the cobwebs looked the same. It’s been years since I’ve been back here, and nothing has changed. That’s life, I guess. She walked to the fireplace and checked the stones. This one, I think? Or this one? A stone came loose under her fingers. Inside the hole left behind was a small stack of crowns and helms, a dark gem tucked beside them.
This was my fallback money, she thought. If I had to start over, I could use this. She thought about the dozen or so sapphires back at the estate. This is almost nothing now. But it could be everything soon. She thought again of Candace back at the bar. Is she okay? Should I go back? What would I even be able to do? Charm doesn’t help when people have their minds made up.
She dropped the dislodged fireplace stone on the floor and watched it wobble and roll into the open space from the removed floorboards. She removed the coins and the gem and walked down the stairs. She held the crowns, helms, and jewel out in her hands as though she were presenting them. She began to walk through the streets, money in front of her.
Why am I doing this? This is an invitation to get mugged. This is not a good part of town. She sighed to herself. But it feels like the right thing to do. She was momentarily distracted by a smell, something like cherry blossoms. She continued to walk. She had encountered no one on the streets and began to head into the center of town. The first person who sees me is going to think, “Hey, a slightkin girl won’t put up a fight–I’ll take the money.” Why am I doing this? But some feeling in her kept her walking forward.
The narrow road ahead took a sharp turn to the left. As she approached the turn, she could hear someone approaching from around the bend. As they came, she could hear a footstep and a click, then a dragging, scraping sound, then another footstep and click followed by another dragging sound. She grew tenser and tenser, still holding the coins and jewel out in front of her, and she realized she was holding her breath without thinking about it. She took another step, and–
Thud, clatter. Asp walked right into a human woman who was walking with a metal cane, and the money in Asp’s outstretched hands fell to the ground. The human woman reeled, off-balance, and Asp grabbed her hand to steady her. In the woman’s other hand was a jar which appeared to have a few caps in it.
“I think those are yours,” said the human woman, gesturing to the fallen coins and gem.
“Yeah,” muttered Asp, more to herself than the woman. She gathered the crowns and helms from the ground before scooping up the jewel.
“Are you okay?” asked the woman, standing with difficulty on her own with her cane leaned against her side and running her free hand through her greying hair.
“Uh huh,” said Asp without checking whether that was true. “You?”
The woman held up her cane and laughed. “I haven’t been truly okay for a while,” she said, smiling. “But for now, I’m fine, thank you very much.” Her tone was so warm that Asp began to come to her senses.
“I’m so sorry,” said Asp. “Here I’ve bumped into an injured elder and only thought to speak in grunts. I’m Delia Violet, and I’m very sorry that I bumped into you.”
The woman smiled. “Patience McLaren,” she said, holding out her free hand. She looked at Asp’s hands full of money. “You want to put those away?”
Asp looked at the coins and the jewel. She looked back to Patience. “I–could you take these, actually?” she managed to choke out.
Patience’s eyebrows rose up her forehead. “Praise Idunna,” she whispered to herself. Then, after a moment, she smiled and asked, “You have a guilty conscience or something?”
Asp looked down. Will you believe me if I tell you I’ve been acting on impulse since I left the tavern, and I can’t explain any of it? She sighed. She seems so nice. “Not exactly,” said Asp, “but something like that. Just kind of believing my gut that you’re the right person for all this.” She tried to facially convey how much she felt the decision was made for her.
Patience lowered her jar so that Asp could place the coins and the dark gem in it. “On another night, I would have tried to talk you out of this,” she said as Asp dropped the money into the jar. “But since tonight, I was going to have to decide between having a roof over my head or having a meal in my belly, I will accept your misplaced penance. But, Delia, let me ask you this: can money ever fix a wound?”
“Money buys a healing potion,” said Asp, raising a finger.
“Ah,” said Patience with a smile, “but it’s not the money that heals. You could have been healed by a potion if you were clever enough to make one.”
Asp considered. “True enough, but . . .” She softened her tone as much as possible. “What’s your point?”
“This money will change my life. But to you, it seems, perhaps, to be nothing. Otherwise you might not be carrying it around like this in the middle of the night. Penance is not bought for nothing. Penance is earned.” Patience patted her now-fuller jar. “I thank you. But think about making amends before you get out the balance sheets.”
Asp nodded to herself. Patience turned and walked down the narrow street. Asp called to her, “Hey, uh, if you need a job, there’s one as a ticketmaster down by the docks. They’ll be looking first thing in the morning. If that’s something you would want.”
Patience laughed. “You got around to that penance pretty quick. Good luck, Delia.”
Asp watched as Patience walked away and felt a peace fall over her, the smell of cherry blossoms on the wind again. The tension in her had all gone. She thought again of Candace. Oh, Candy, you screwed us up a little bit. But I will fix this. We will be together and happy and respected by the gang. She smiled at the thought. Because I said so.
You can read the next chapter here!
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