You can read the previous chapter here!
“And then we all meet up back here.” Asp finished her speech and folded her hands on the table to punctuate it.
The gang sat silently for a moment. Candace was the first to speak. “Could work, I guess. Not really our style.”
Asp tried to remain casual. “Not really my style to be a mulberry bush.” She managed to not react when her voice did not remain casual.
Oslo sighed. “We get one shot at this, Asp. Your inventor plan goes wrong, and we’re all back to square one. I don’t know if I’m willing to bet all of us on it.”
Asp jumped down from her chair and began to pace. “I’m telling you right now: he was looking at me like a mulberry bush until I mentioned my friend who makes inventions. That’s what he really wants. You have to trust me.”
Everyone began to speak at once. After a moment of commotion, Oslo spoke over everyone.
“ALRIGHT!” The room went silent. “We spend one day planning for Asp’s idea. If it looks like we can get traction, we move forward. Otherwise, we go back to our plan, even if we have to find someone who will be a mulberry bush.” His tone turned sour at the end.
Asp felt a weight released from her shoulders. “Thanks.”
Jehosaphat stirred in his chair, loading tobacco into his pipe. “Well, then, what do we do?”
Everyone but Jehosaphat looked to Oslo, but the two cons just looked at Asp. After a moment of quiet confusion, Oslo said, “Well, then, Asp, what do you want us to do?”
Again a commotion.
Candace roared, “What the hell? Why does she get to order us around?”
“Seriously, boss?” asked Kyrn.
“Never in all my years . . .” muttered Gregorio.
Oslo raised a hand into the air, and everyone stopped talking. “She says she can get us what we need, and we all know the rules here: if it’s your job, you get to at least propose how it gets done. And since Asp is the one doing the work, she gets a say.”
Candace looked furious. “But no one has ever been allowed to propose how we do a job on their first day!”
Oslo gritted his teeth. “Never before have we had someone join us at so precarious a time for our outfit.”
Candace rose and stepped menacingly towards the group. “Never before have we had to deal with such terrible recruits!”
Oslo stood too, pointing at Candace. “Your last recruit stole from us and skipped town, which put us in this situation!”
Candace started to respond, but Jehosaphat braced his arms and let loose the loudest clap that Asp had ever heard. The room was once again silent for a moment.
“Do you like eating, Candace?” Jehosaphat asked, his voice peaked.
Candace looked down and kicked at the floorboards. She muttered something under her breath and sat back down, never making eye contact with anyone.
Oslo shook himself off and looked calmly at Asp. “Okay, Asp, you’re up.”
Asp squirmed a bit. She did not like to make people upset unless she intended to. This gang thing could be more complicated than I had bargained for. Noticing that she had gotten lost in thought and that the gang was looking at her, waiting, she adopted a confident pose and began to give instructions.
-
The eight members of the Hollowstride gang stepped out of the warehouse one by one, a few minutes apart. Asp repeated a summary of her instructions as each person left, getting a range of reactions from people scoffing at her words to asking clarifying questions. Asp was the second-to-last to leave. She turned to Oslo before stepping outside and said, “Remember, it’s better if no one knows the person and that they’re not based here in town. Kinda like when you recruited me.”
“I get it, Asp.” He rolled his eyes, but didn’t seem upset.
“Good luck,” she said, and she disappeared into the city.
As discussed, she went to the main gate into town. She walked a few hundred feet away from the gate down the road to the west. She staked out an area that was out of sight of the gate guards and began walking in long stretches up and down the road. She made sure that no one was nearby and turned around before getting too far from the city. Then, when she neared the gates, she would turn around again. In this expanded pacing, she would encounter travelers. When she would, she would strike up friendly conversation: “How have the roads been? Where are you headed? What’s your business?”
She hoped that someone would say, “I’m an inventor and I want to sell my wares, but not in the nearest city. Please buy my gadgets.” But she encountered only caravans and vagabonds and an old woman bundled in warm winter clothes despite the late spring weather.
The first few hours were uncomfortable as hope turned into more desperate hope and then finally into panic. But the next few hours were worse. The roads became busier, and she had to stray further and further from the city gates to make her turning around more private. As the afternoon crept by, Asp grew more and more anxious about returning to the warehouse without a solution.
As Asp turned around and headed back away from the gates for what must have been the fifteenth time, she saw a curiously-dressed newtkin man ambling towards town, pulling a small handcart loaded with crates. She adjusted her pace to join him, and offered a friendly, “Ho there, traveler!”
The newtkin turned and considered her. “Good afternoon,” he said, his reptilian eyes blinking in the bright sunlight. He seemed suspicious of Asp and continued to pull his cart.
This was her element, however. “Good afternoon,” she replied with a deep curtsy. “I’m sorry to interrupt your day, but I noticed your very personal wardrobe, and I was wondering where you got it.”
The newtkin beamed for a moment. “Back home in Eunax.” He was still guarded, but happy.
Not from here: check.
“And you’re coming to the city?” she asked, hope peeking through her voice.
“No, I haven’t heard that people here are terribly kind to newtkins.” He shrugged. “Are they good to you here, hiskin?”
Asp recognized the word “hiskin” as one of the more specific words in common use–it was a word meant to indicate a newtkin or a slightkin relative to the larger races, derived from the once-common phrase “histin kindred,” or “small relative.”
“They’re okay sometimes, but you’re right–this isn’t a place for us,” she lied. Not planning on staying: check. “And what brings you so far from the newtkin lands?” she asked.
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to see the world, and I thought I would sell my goods to finance the trip. A little business, a little pleasure, you know?” The newtkin had seemed to warm to her over the course of their conversation so far.
Asp put on her biggest smile. “Oh absolutely. I wish I could make things. But it’s just not how I am, I guess. What do you make?”
The newtkin smiled, but his eyes were distant. “I make a newtkin specialty. Something that really only we make. That’s what makes traveling to sell them so clever–newtkins know how my wares are made, so they have less interest in them. Non-newtkins, though, love them.”
Asp tried to keep her eyes from widening too far. She cast a furtive glance back to the cart and its crates. So close, she thought.
“Ah, yes, I have always adored the newtkin propensity for gadgets,” she said as smoothly as possible.
The newtkin had a visible reaction. “Oh no,” he explained. “I sell newtkin tapestries. Everyone loves the colorful designs and irregular shapes of our work.” He reached over, removed a crate lid, and pulled from the top a large hexagonal tapestry with more than a dozen colors in a spiral design.
“Everyone” loves these garish things? she thought.
The newtkin replaced the tapestry and then the crate lid. Asp felt defeated.
Inventor: not check.
Asp recognized this as a classic con position: it appears that the potential mark has nothing of value, so you push to see if there’s anything else. I already spent the time getting this far. “Ah, such beautiful tapestries indeed. Sorry for my wrong guess–I could see that you didn’t care for my assumption. I just have such an interest in newtkin gadgets.”
The newtkin frowned. “So many people, apparently even hiskin, forget that we are more than our stereotypes.”
Asp frowned too. “Well, I truly am sorry for what I have said–I believe I was more motivated by curiosity than generalization, but that’s not the point–I’ll leave you to enjoy your travels.” Asp began to break away from the newtkin and his cart, but he called out to her.
“I’m sorry. Complicated feelings about being one of us is what led me to leave Eunax. People moving in and changing our home.” The newtkin’s voice was faraway.
Asp stopped and let the newtkin catch back up. He offered a weak smile.
“It’s okay, friend,” she said. “We all have complicated feelings.”
The newtkin nodded, a wide smile on his face. The city gate was only a hundred feet ahead of them now. He began to pull his cart toward the side of the road nearer the gate.
“Even if the town isn’t terribly friendly, maybe I’ll stop in for a meal,” said the newtkin after a while, patting his stomach. “Any recommendations for a weary traveler?”
“I just moved here myself,” replied Asp. “But there’s a pretty authentic slightkin place just inside the gate if you like a good cheese-and-apple sandwich.”
The newtkin winced. “I can’t handle slightkin food. I’ll try my luck at the public house.”
Asp smiled. “Now now, hiskin, we slightkins are more than our delicious sandwich stereotypes.”
The newtkin laughed in surprise, then again, louder, a moment later.
“My my, I needed that,” he chuckled. “What is your name, traveler?”
“Delia Violet. And you?”
He nodded. “Spence Jiggoram–nice to meet you.”
Asp and Spence walked through the gate and back into town. Asp led him to the door of the nearest pub and bid him happy travels, and she bought a tapestry with a mess of white, purple, and green designs. The colors of Thistlewade, she thought. Something from home. Or at least, like something from home. He went inside, and Asp turned back to the gate.
No luck so far. It’s getting late. Asp judged the sun’s position in the sky. Maybe two more hours.
She slumped against a small, low building and reassessed the situation.
The closest I’ve gotten is tapestries. I really hope the rest of the gang is having better luck.
-
Asp was the last to return to the warehouse. It was deathly quiet in the room. Everyone looked at her, waiting.
She offered a half-hearted smile. “No luck, then?”
Dancer spoke up. “Me and Kyrn were in the newtkin quarter all day. Nothing doing. I had a couple of newtkins tell me they don’t really make gadgets like people say.”
Annabel seemed eager to speak. “I talked to a few dozen dwarves, and none of them make anything that would be quirky enough for what you need.”
Gregorio piped up. “The smithies I visited all make traditional–useful–things.”
Candace stood from the table and paced the room. “I did exactly what you said, and nothing.”
Asp looked with consternation at Candace. “You did it exactly like I said?”
Candace scoffed. “I went to every pawn shop in the city and said to the clerk, ‘I need something flashy and mechanical to impress my friends.’” Candace intoned this scripted line with as much caustic sarcasm as she could.
Jehosaphat talked over what might have become an argument. “No luck at the north gate. Sorry, kid.”
Oslo shrugged, his whole body sagging. “Sorry, Asp. I talked to everyone who went in or came out of the east gate all day. If someone’s got an invention, they’re not talking about it. So unless you have something else, we’ve gotta revisit the plan.”
Asp looked at each of the members of the gang in turn. Some of them were obviously sorry for Asp, and some of them seemed to think that this was inevitable. In the back of Asp’s mind, she could hear Oslo’s voice: “mulberry bush.” She closed her eyes and tried to focus. She opened them when she noticed that her face had become wet, and that’s when she realized she was crying. Embarrassed, she ran from the warehouse. She went in any direction she could make out through her tears, and she was soon lost in the labyrinth of the city.
-
Asp found herself in a tight corner of the city; streets were narrow, businesses and homes pressed in around people, and the darkness of late evening made everything seem even more oppressive. Feeling sorry for herself, she picked through the winding paths and paid very little attention to anything that wasn’t in her head.
That’s how she bumped smack into a small crossroads where a throng of children were running in circles and shouting. Ugh. Kids, and without their parents. I’m outta here.
But as she turned, she almost collided with a short dwarven woman.
“Whoa!” cried the dwarf, steadying a long, thin box she was carrying.
“I’m so sorry,” said Asp, helping her get a firm grip on the box. “Are you okay?”
The dwarf steadied herself. “Just fine, thank you. Say, do you have any little ones in your life?”
Asp almost laughed, but she could sense in the dwarf that the question was not only asked of curiosity. “I have a niece who I practically raised myself,” she lied.
“Oh, good for you,” replied the dwarf. “The little ones really are why we’re here.” Asp closed her eyes to roll them, then mentally rejoined the woman with the box. “I have something she might like!” added the dwarven woman.
The dwarf reached into the box and pulled out something inside her broad closed hand. She opened her fist to reveal a small sphere made of brass or bronze on a steel platform with a round button. The dwarf flattened her hand with the base of the thing on her palm and pushed the button. The sphere spun in a circle, splitting into slices of a sphere that looked like flower petals, and the slices lowered, spinning, to reveal a tiny silver dragon figurine inside. Asp’s eyes opened widely.
“You’re absolutely right, miss,” said Asp, her eyes aglow. “My niece would love those. How much for the box?”
The dwarf blinked repeatedly, apparently confused. “You mean you want to buy all of them?”
Asp smiled. “All of them.”
The dwarf moved her fingers through the air, performing mental math on her sale. “Five crowns for all forty-nine of them.”
Inventor: check. A bit steep, but you take what you can get. “Now, I’m sorry to ask you this, but have you sold any others here in town?” Asp tried to contain her excitement.
The dwarf nodded, her eyes darting around. “Just one. I only got to town from the Myriad about an hour ago, so I haven’t really settled in. Say, why would your niece want more than one of these things?”
Not from here: check.
Asp let the words come without thinking too much about them. “Oh, she’s very particular. She likes to be the only one with the things she likes. To that end, I do have to ask to whom you sold the other one.”
The dwarf was rubbing together the ten-pointed gold coins with their steel centers that Asp had given her. “That seems a little weird, to be honest,” she said, her voice growing quieter and thicker. “Why does a child need to lose a toy so that your niece can have more than she needs?”
Asp started to grow nervous. Good people always complicate these things. “I only ask because she has this thing for nice, round numbers. Forty-nine will drive her absolutely batty. I’ll not even get a thank you. I simply must have that fiftieth one for her, or it will all be a waste.”
The dwarf shifted from foot to foot. “I dunno. The more we talk, the weirder this seems.”
Asp shifted gears. We’re this close. Don’t lose this.
“Ma’am, I will pay you five crowns more for two things: first - a description of the kid you sold this to, and second - you leave town by tomorrow morning. I know that sounds crazy, but let me cut you in on a secret. The guards here are privately talking about cracking down on unlicensed street vendors, and dwarves in particular. I’m looking out for you here. I like your product–no, I love your product–and you’ve been good to me and my niece. If I give you this money, can you go somewhere where you can actually make it selling your work?” Asp’s voice became gradually more pleading and desperate until the final question was cut with the sound of choked-back tears.
The dwarf seemed on the edge of deciding to trust her or not. Asp decided to pour on one final layer.
“Ma’am, please. The guards took my niece away from me when they caught me selling tapestries without a license. They sent her away. I can only see her when they agree, and so I spend so much of my time trying to make her comfortable and happy since I can’t be there. You have to believe me–I just want you and little Iris happy.”
“Iris,” said the dwarf with awe in her voice, and Asp tried not to wince. “Lovely name.” She mulled things over for a moment, then reached out her hand for the offered crowns. “I sold the other one to this blue Ronan'el kid back by the north gate. I saw him run off down the edge of town towards the east. He was wearing a grey tunic with a red sun stitched into it.” She turned to go. “Good luck, and wish Iris all the best from me.”
Asp clutched the box to her chest and smiled. “I will. You enjoy your meal, and happy travels.”
The dwarf departed, and Asp hauled the box back to the warehouse.
-
The warehouse was still and dim when Asp pushed the door open and dragged the box inside. The scraping sound of the box’s wooden planks against the floorboards drew everyone’s attention to her.
“A little help?” she asked with a smile in her voice.
Kyrn and Annabel rushed to her side and lifted the box onto the table.
“What the hell is it?” demanded Candace.
“It’s our plan,” said Asp. She stuck her hand into the box and pulled out one of the toys, pressing the button and making the globe open to reveal the dragon inside. Dancer gasped when the machine performed its function, and Jehosaphat whistled a series of notes in surprise.
“Hot damn!” shouted Oslo. “We’re in business.”
Gregorio was staring at the assembled devices. “There’s forty-nine,” he said, clucking his tongue. “Where’s the other? There’s supposed to be fifty, right?” Every head swiveled to Asp.
She nodded lightly. “That’s true. We are missing one. But I have a plan for that, and now all we need to do is get one toy from one child, and we’re done.”
“‘Like taking candy from a baby,’” said Kyrn, rubbing her claws together.
Asp grinned. “The wrinkle is in finding him. We’re looking for a blue Ronan'el boy in a grey tunic with a red sun on it. Should be on the east side of town. If you can get it from him nicely, do. If not, just get it. We can’t use any of what I just brought back if we don’t get that one.”
Annabel raised a hand, her face uncertain. “Forgive me for being more brawn than brains here, but why can’t we just move forward as is?”
Asp turned to her with a patient look. “If anyone sees a little kid playing with a double of what we’re claiming is a priceless artifact, it’s gonna destroy us. And if we want to make the plan work, we’re going to have make sure that’s not possible. It’s all of the gadgets or nothing.”
The gang members nodded amongst themselves. “So, we just look for this kid?” asked Dancer.
“Something like that,” said Asp, her mind racing. “We’re gonna partner up. Kyrn, you and Oslo are going to search the eastern edge of the city. Annabel, you and Jehosaphat are going to check the eastern part of the center of the city. Dancer and Gregorio will do the north half of the east quarter, and me and Candace are going to do the south half.”
The gang nodded again, motioning their understanding, and Asp rushed them out the door.
-
“So why the hell did you put us together?” demanded Candace.
“Oh, no reason,” lied Asp. “Although, it will be nice to have you here if I need protecting.”
Candace cackled. “Don’t count on it, little one.”
“Thanks!” Asp said, her tone sweet but not too sweet. “I’ll be sure to remember that if you ever need talked out of a tight situation. Now shut up and look for the Ronan'el.”
The unlikely pair wandered up and down streets for over an hour. It was, unfortunately, dinner time, and so many of the streets were deserted.
“It’s not looking good for your plan,” Candace hissed. “You might want to start shopping for a pretty dress to impress the curator.”
Asp ignored Candace and continued to scan the streets. Gradually, as dinner hours ended, people began to return to the city beyond their homes. But most everyone was an adult. Few children at all could be seen, and none of them were Ronan'el children, let alone in the tunic they needed to find.
“And you have to get it done tonight, right?” taunted Candace. “‘Cause he won’t be wearing that same tunic tomorrow, will he? Oh, this is downright hilarious.”
Asp ignored Candace again. She cut a few quick turns, and they were retracing their steps but in reverse. After another few minutes of silence, Candace spoke again: “In all my years in outfits, we never once had to find a kid with a toy if we wanted to eat.”
Asp snapped. “If you’re so capable, go off and live without us. You want food that doesn’t require you to put yourself in immediate danger? Shut up and help me.”
Candace laughed. “You’re so fun to piss off.”
Asp was ready to respond, but she heard something behind her from within a ramshackle house on the dusky street.
“I’m only going out for a little bit, mom. Be back in half an hour tops. Grogus kor.” It was a young voice, and Asp’s efforts to recognize common phrases in various languages told her that this young man had just told his mother he loved her in Ronan'el. The voice was faint through the building, but Asp had trained herself to passively listen with the attention most people give to actively listening. You never know when something useful might come up. Like now.
Asp stopped walking and put a hand out to halt Candace. Candace let out an angry sigh and stopped walking. “What is it now?”
The door on the ramshackle house next to them swung open. In the doorway stood a small blueskinned Ronan'el boy. He wore a grey tunic with a red sun, and in his hand was a small metallic sphere. Candace smiled, looking at the boy, and took on a nonchalant stance. Asp rolled her eyes behind the privacy of closed lids and tried to look as inviting as possible.
“Oh hi, young man,” Asp said in a welcoming voice. “We didn’t mean to startle you. Are you out to play for a bit before bed?”
Candace groaned at Asp’s delicate questioning, but Asp ignored her.
“I’m gonna make my dragon fly!” the boy cried in delight. He pushed the button on the gadget, and the dragon appeared from within the sphere.
Asp smiled like she imagined a mother is supposed to smile at their child. “Oh, how nice! Say, I really like that toy. Do you think I could trade you something for it?”
Candace shifted and graoned. “Can I just take it from him yet?” she whispered. Asp kicked Candace on the side of the leg, more a message than an attack.
“I dunno,” said the Ronan'el boy, lost in thought. “What kinda toys do you have?”
Asp searched her pockets and pack. What would a kid think of as a toy? She hadn’t been able to bring much with her during the flight to Strey, and so her normal cache of helpful gear wasn’t an option.
“I, uh, I have this neat tapestry. Look how colorful it is!” Asp held the colorful tapestry up, but the boy was unimpressed. “Um, how about a little steel mirror?” she tried. “ It can be very useful . . .” But the boy shook his head.
“This isn’t working,” hissed Candace. “You’ve got one more minute.”
You can rush a theft, but you can’t rush a con, idiot. Asp tried not to let her frustration become visible to the boy. Desperate now to avoid assaulting the child, Asp reached into a pocket on her dress and pulled out whatever was inside. She looked at what came out clutched in her hand: Iris’s collar.
“Oooh, that’s nice,” said the Ronan'el boy. He eyed the collar like it was obviously valuable. It was the same blue as his scales.
Asp’s stomach dropped. “Oh, you like the collar?”
The boy grinned. “If I put that on an animal, they’re my pet, right?”
Asp struggled to remain smiling. “Yep! Just like that.”
The boy’s eyes grew wide. "And then they love me forever?"
Asp gulped. "That's right!" she managed to say.
“Cool. But I spent money on this. All my money.” The boy was clutching the gadget to his chest.
Asp’s shoulders slumped. “How much?”
“Five caps.”
Asp did some mental math. The dwarf had upcharged her by double per toy. I really need to get better at learning when to trust people.
She handed the boy a helm, a round silver-steel alloy coin with a helmet stamped on it, and reached out her hand for the gadget. “This helm is worth ten of those little caps,” she said.
“I know,” the boy said proudly, and he took the collar and silver coin and ran off into the falling night to find a pet.
Candace waited until the boy was gone to speak. “That was pretty smooth. But how did you know he’d want the collar, and why did you even have one to begin with?”
Asp looked back at Candace, now visibly weary. “Does any of that matter? Let’s get back to the warehouse.”
They trooped back to the warehouse and found Oslo and Kyrn already there. “Nothing,” they both said at the same time. Asp raised her fist, the gadget inside. They both exploded into cheers.
“This calls for a party,” said Oslo, rubbing his hands together. “Kyrn, Candace, you go get everything we need for a shindig.” Kyrn and Candace left the warehouse together, excitedly talking about how they would celebrate. Once they were gone, Oslo turned to Asp. “I’m gonna come clean about something. Don’t expect that from me–I don’t expect it from you, either. But I wanna make something clear: I did not expect any of this to work. We’ve always operated by using the most reliable, most guaranteed jobs possible. That’s how we survive. I figured I’d let you see that big, crazy plans don’t work. Too many variables. But you made it work. You’re either very, very lucky, or you’re better than we thought.”
Asp thought back to her mothers’ final goodbye, to the moment she left the town of her birth, to letting Iris go, to everything that this gang seemed to expect of her. “I wouldn’t say ‘lucky,’” she said quietly. “But then, I’m not going to say I’m better than you thought, either. Maybe we can settle on ‘different from what you’re used to.’”
“If two things are different, one of them is always better. Don’t kid yourself,” said Oslo, conviction in his voice.
“Better is subjective, Oslo. Candace thought it better to pummel the kid and take the thing than to talk him out of it.” She looked at him as though this proved her point.
“True. And beating up a kid is more reliable than talking to a kid.”
Seriously? “That’s not–but you’re a con! How can you–”
But before Asp could finish her sentence, the door swung open to reveal Dancer, Annabel, Jehosaphat, and Gregorio. Their tired looks transformed to excited ones as the gadget was revealed.
“Drink up, everybody,” said Oslo as Kryn and Candace returned with drinks and meals. The night grew wild, and in the morning, Asp was asleep on the floor, covered in her new newtkin tapestry. She awoke from a dream in which her mother was holding Iris ransom, and when she could think clearly, she began to wonder what she had gotten herself into.
You can read the next chapter here!
No comments:
Post a Comment