This short story takes place during Nobody Knows Me. You can read the first chapter of the novel here!
Asp was wandering the marketplace. There was a job late tonight, but until then, she wanted to be calm and happy, so the marketplace was a natural choice. She had come alone because it had seemed recently like Candace could get impatient with Asp’s desire to see every single item offered. It didn’t bother her–Candace was perfect for her, and a little thing like enjoying the marketplace alone wasn’t going to get in the way of that.
Besides, something about being in the marketplace alone took her back. She hadn’t enjoyed her childhood, but the wonder and curiosity were sharper back then. It had been easy to be entranced by the world. Being in the marketplace alone, with no tether to reality, meant that she could really dissolve into that old feeling that everything in the world had secrets to learn.
She finished examining a bottle of perfume which she had been careful to not accidentally spray and moved to the next stall, where her eyes were immediately drawn to a thin cylinder with a fine point on one end.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said politely to the gnome sitting behind the stall’s counter. “What is this?”
The gnome smiled and folded his hands. “It’s an inkpen. You write with it like a quill.”
Asp looked at it suspiciously. “It sure looks neat. But if you still have to dip it, doesn’t the tube get in the way?”
“No, my dear,” said the gnome. “The ink is inside the tube. You write with it until it runs out of ink, and then you fill it back up. But it lasts for dozens and dozens of pages.”
Asp’s eyes grew wide. “No dipping, huh?” She drummed her fingers on the stall. “I’ll take one, plus two bottles of the ink. Does it use special ink or anything?”
“Just normal ink,” said the gnome. “Here, I’m putting in a small funnel to help you refill it.”
“Oh, thank you!” said Asp. “I really appreciate it.”
The gnome smiled and stood up. “Four silver,” he said pleasantly.
“Here you go, and thanks for your help,” said Asp, handing him six silver coins. “You have a good day, now,” she added, slipping to the next stall. See? Wouldn’t have found that without the old wonder at everything. She moved to the next table. On it were children’s toys of all sorts. Balls, dolls, play weapons, stuffed animals–
–the stuffed kitten. It looked just like the one from that time in the toystore with Nicole. It made Asp go stiff. Still clutching her new inkpen in her hand, she wandered back through the marketplace, down the long street, and back into the estate.
—
Asp walked in the door of the estate almost blindly.
“I don’t want that, though,” said Dancer. “I want a real party.”
“And we’ll have one after the job,” said Jehosaphat patiently.
“Hey Asp,” said Dancer as she came into view in the doorway as she passed. “Party later, or party now and later?”
She walked past wordlessly. She headed up the stairs and to her bedroom. She flopped face-first onto her bed. All she could see was the kitten stained a deep red.
“Asp?” Jehosaphat’s voice came from the doorway.
Asp flopped over onto her side and looked at Jehosaphat for a long minute. “Yeah?” she managed finally.
“Maybe it’s not my place,” said Jehosaphat, “but you seem pretty perturbed. And ordinarily, I would let you work it out in your own time, but I need to know if you can work tonight.”
Asp sighed. “I”m fine, Jehosaphat. I can work.”
Jehosaphat nodded. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” His voice was soft–to make it quiet or kind, she wasn’t sure.
“I’ll be fine. I just remembered something I don’t like remembering.” Her voice was flat.
“New memories tend to help with that. If you’re so inclined.” Jehosaphat nodded. “Open or closed?”
“Open,” said Asp. “I’m coming right back out.”
“Good,” said Jehosaphat. He turned and walked quietly down the hallway.
Asp tip-toed to the door and quietly closed it. She then stalked to the closet and its secret compartment, taking out a few handfuls of gold coins. Closing up the secret compartments, she sealed the closet and left her room, and walked towards the side door. She paused at the doorway to the living room. “Relax now,” she said, looking at Dancer, “party later.” With that, she turned and strode out the door.
—
Asp swept into the clothing shop in a hurry. She felt like she was running from the feeling from before. She waved a quick hello to the orcish woman behind the counter and threw herself into a rack of halfling-sized clothes. A long orange tabard. A light blue dress. A striped grey-and-black vest. The variety worked its magic, as though these pieces of clothing were their own tiny–and safe–marketplace.
About twenty minutes later, Asp had inspected every garment which could reasonably be altered to fit her. Her finds contented her: a dark green and brown traveler’s outfit which could keep her more inconspicuous while on the road and a white vestment with dark green trim, a thick stripe along the outer edge. She carried her new outfits to the counter.
“You find everything okay, miss?: asked the orc. “You looked at just about everything, but I thought I’d ask just in case.”
“I wasn’t looking for anything in particular,” said Asp, beaming at the clothes. “Just wanted to see what you had.”
“That you did,” said the orc happily. “And you decided on some traveling gear and a . . . vestments?” Her voice was rich in surprise.
“For my mother,” said Asp quickly. “She was a cleric, but she retired, and her vestments got stolen a few years back. These look a lot like them. I thought she’d like a replacement. For memory’s sake.”
The orc looked more at ease, but still had an eyebrow raised in suspicion. “But you held the clothes up to yourself.”
“We’re the same size,” said Asp easily. “In case she wants to try it on.”
“Well, that’s very kind of you,” said the orc finally. “Tell her I thank her for her service.”
Asp looked puzzled for a moment, which the orc seemed to notice.
“White vestments–she was a healing cleric, no?”
Asp came to her senses. “Yes,” she said with finality. “Of course. I’ll give her your thanks.”
Asp stuffed the new clothes into her bag and headed out the door.
A block later, a young half-elf came running up to her. “Delia!” he cried. “Delia, they took my uncle!”
“Duncan,” she said, reaching up towards his shoulders, “slow down. Who took Uncle Iggy?”
Duncan breathed heavily. “The guards! They locked him up because they said he was disrespectful to an official!”
Asp scowled. This had been happening recently. Some new push to civilize the people or some such misguided measure.
“I’ll go talk to him at the guardhouse and get this worked out for you. You go home and lay low–the guards know you’re the likeliest to be up to something about this. If Uncle Iggy isn’t home in three hours, I’ll come get you. Understand?” Asp maintained eye contact to ensure Duncan was listening.
“Go home, wait three hours. Got it,” said Duncan after a moment.
“Okay, go,” she said, turning toward the guardhouse. “And try to relax.” She walked confidently away, steeling herself for an encounter with the captain.
—
Asp stood across the street, studying the captain through his window. He seemed troubled. He had seemed troubled often lately. From what she could gather, other continents, most notably Myriad, had been cracking down on contract violations about cargo laws. It was mostly related to theft issues, but the whole city had gone into a serious state of tension. And yet she had to talk to him. So be it.
She walked up the steps to the guardhouse, let herself in through the front door, and stood before the front desk.
“I’m here to see Ignatius Willien, and then the captain,” Asp said when the guard at the desk looked up.
“State your business with Ignatius,” the guard said mechanically.
“A family friend has asked me to look into the details of his case,” chirped Asp.
The guard remained expressionless but stood and guided Asp back to a cell along the far wall. “Three minutes,” the guard said.
“Thanks,” said Asp before turning to the half-elf in the cell. “Iggy, what have you gotten yourself into?”
“It’s not like that,” said Ignatius. “I said it was a nice day, and the guard said it wasn’t, and I said it was so, and the next thing I know, I’m locked up.” His voice was bitter.
Asp narrowed her eyes. “What happened in the part you called ‘the next thing you know’?”
Ignatius slumped his shoulders. “You needn’t suspect me, Delia. I’m a good man.”
Asp wrapped her hands around the bars. “You heard him–we have very limited time. If you don’t give me the whole story, I can’t help you. C’mon, now.”
Ignatius frowned. “You don’t even like me, so why are you helping?”
Asp slammed the bars hard. “You idiot! I’m trying to help you because Duncan is a good kid, and it would kill him to have his favorite uncle locked up, so please, tell me what happened.”
Ignatius looked down. “The guard told me not to talk back to him, and I swung at him. But I missed by a mile.”
Asp groaned. “You threw a punch at a guard, huh?” She rubbed her chin. “Say, did you fall down when you missed?”
Ignatius looked furiously at her. “Oh, so you really are here to mock me?”
“No!” cried Asp. “If you fell, then we can argue the punch was a flail as you fell.”
“Oh!” said Ignatius. “Yeah, I fell.”
“Iggy,” said Asp seriously, “did you really?”
He blushed. “Yeah.”
“Okay. Anything else I should know?”
“Me and the guard have a history.” He looked helplessly at her.
“You the aggressor in most of it?” Her voice was hopeful.
“Only a little bit. Mostly him,” said Ignatius.
“Okay,” said Asp. “I think our time is about up. Wish me luck.” She turned and began to walk to the captain’s office.
“Good luck!” called Ignatius.
Asp entered the captain’s office cautiously. “May I come in?” she asked before proceeding.
“Miss Violet,” said the captain without looking up. “I take it from that wish of good luck that you are here to once again advocate for a prisoner. If I had known that reporters so immerse themselves in common arrests, I believe our relationship would have began on different terms.”
Asp deliberately looked hurt, but on some level enjoyed her game with the captain. He was one of the hardest marks she had ever worked, and she had to work him again and again. He made her feel like she was a real professional. But it had to be proven again and again as well.
“That’s not fair, Captain,” she said gently. “Anyone can tell you I publish as many stories about the heroics of your guards as I publish about the mistakes they make.”
“That may be true,” he said, “but publishing just as many articles supporting murder as defending it is not a virtue.”
“Murder, Captain?” said Asp reproachfully. “That’s quite dramatic. I am only here to discuss a misunderstanding.”
The captain sighed. “They are all misunderstandings to you, Miss Violet.”
“Misunderstandings are common,” she replied casually but firmly. “And this one is quite the misunderstanding. You see, Ignatius Willien, in his age, has become unbalanced. An ale or two only compounds this. He was being outright pleasant to a guard, was rebuffed, and lost his balance. What appeared to be an attack was actually a health issue.”
“A health issue?” repeated the captain. “Miss Violet, I am certain we could produce witnesses that Mr. Willien tried to attack my man, and a group of people who have known Mr. Willien a long time without witnessing such fits.”
“You are seeking to prove that something is impossible, which itself is impossible.” Asp pointed to a book on a shelf behind the captain. “That very book says so, and that eyewitness testimony is suspect under all circumstances.” She leaned back in her chair. “I am telling you that Mr. Willien is innocent, and I am willing to publish about it.”
The captain leaned forward across his desk. “You have used that threat with me before, and I have not wanted to find out what it would be like to have it made good. But I am afraid you have forced my hand, Miss Violet. Publish away.”
Asp nodded solemnly. “Have it your way, Captain. I’ll be back tomorrow morning for Mr. Willien.”
The captain laughed in surprise at Delia’s boldness and watched her leave.
Asp hurried back to the estate, inkpen in hand.
—
“Hand this out to everyone you see,” said Asp. “A guard tries to stop you, tell them to come and see me. I’ll be just outside the guardhouse.”
“Okay,” said Duncan. “But how am I going to get enough of these out to do something?”
“I’ve already passed out dozens on the way, and I have other people passing them out too.” She eyed her handwriting on the leaflets. It looked a bit rushed, but it was legible. With the help of the inkpen, she had managed a few hundred in just two hours.
“On it,” said Duncan, disappearing into the city.
Asp slowly made her way to the guardhouse. She passed two of her criers at important intersections. By the time she made it there, there was already a small crowd.
“Justice for Iggy! Justice for Iggy! We demand justice for Iggy!” chanted the crowd. Guards slowly emerged from the guardhouse and tried to surround the crowd, but it grew too fast to be contained.
Asp watched, delighted, as the crowd screamed at the guards. “You don’t fight for us!” shouted an old elven man. “Let him out!” cried a young gnomish woman. “You’re disgusting!” yelled a middle-aged dwarven man.
Suddenly, the front door opened, and a tall, thin half-elven man with greying hair stood looking over the scene. After a moment, the crowd fell silent.
“Delia Violet!” called the captain. “Are you here?”
For a moment, Asp didn’t know what to do. But a young woman nearby shouted, “She’s right here!” and pointed at her.
“Miss Violet!” called the captain. “Please come here.”
Asp picked her way through the crowd, which grew easier as it parted before her.
“You called for me?” she said sweetly as she approached the captain.
“Inside,” he commanded. His voice was emotionless.
“Very well,” said Asp and took the chair in the office once more.
“You have made yourself clear,” he said after a moment. “You can make yourself heard.”
Asp looked innocent. “I swear to you, Captain, I had no idea this would happen.”
The Captain’s eyes looked tired. “I don’t know whether to believe that or not. Right now, I don’t think I care to know. You did something very dangerous tonight, Miss Violet. You did something that puts us all–even you–at risk. Do you see that?”
Asp breathed deeply. I have power over the guards, and I’m at risk? “I see that the city can become . . . unbalanced if pushed.”
“Miss Violet, consider.” The captain steepled his fingers. “You overwhelm the guards, and who is left to protect you?”
Right. He thinks I’m clean. She put on a somber look. “I see what you mean. But will you let out Mr. Willien?”
The captain rolled his eyes. “You don’t see it.” He leaned back in his chair. “Miss Violet, one day I hope you realize that there are good and bad kinds of different.” He wiped his eyes, and Asp thought for a moment that he did so to remove a tear and not from tiredness. “Please be the good kind of different, as it seems you will be different no matter what you do.”
Asp couldn’t help but to scowl at considering this. “Captain,” she said boldly, “removing an innocent man from prison is a good kind of different.”
The captain smiled as though amused by his own defeat. “So it is. Mr. Willien should be waiting for you.”
Asp smiled. “Thank you, Captain.” She made for the door, but the captain’s voice stopped her at the doorway.
“Don’t get any big ideas, Miss Violet, lest you try to make a regular occurrence of this stunt.”
“Don’t go arresting innocent people, lest you try to make a regular occurrence of this stunt,” she echoed with a devious smile. She turned and grabbed Ignatius by the sleeve and led him outside. A cheer went up from the crowd, and Asp was surprised when more people wanted to talk to her than to Ignatius.
“Listen, you gotta lay real low for a while, Iggy,” she said once they were free of the crowd. “Nothing interesting for a while. Got me?”
Ignatius had tears in his eyes. “Anything you say, Delia.” He turned, scooped up Duncan, who had run at him, and headed off into the night.
She turned down a side street, sped past a quiet neighborhood, and into the estate. The whole gang was waiting for her inside.
“Cutting it close,” said Jehosaphat. “It’s show time.”
“Just had a little business to attend to,” said Asp casually. “Let’s all avoid the guardhouse more than normal tonight.”
“No trouble before a job,” scolded Oslo.
“No trouble,” said Asp. “I was getting someone out of trouble.”
“Let’s get to work,” said Oslo, leading the way out the door. Candace and Asp ended up at the back of the line.
“You saving someone again?” whispered Candace playfully.
“Something like that,” whispered Asp. “Hey look, I picked up some new clothes! A traveler’s outfit for roadtrips and some vestments in case I need to be extra trustworthy.”
“Honey, you spend all this time being other people, and I think you forget how much everyone likes you.”
“Hey, this is my life,” said Asp defensively. “They’re all part of me, like you said.”
“And I was right, like normal,” said Candace. “I just mean that it wasn’t really Delia who did whatever you did tonight. It was you.”
Asp thought of the less savory things she had done as her personas. “Does it have to be me?”
“I know that look,” said Candace. “You’re thinking about some long-gone thing you wish were different.”
Asp blushed. “So?”
“So think about the things that are good that wouldn’t be if not for you.” Candace gestured forward, as the gang had stopped.
“You know your roles,” said Oslo. “Positions.”
Asp pulled Candace close to whisper to her one more time.
“Thanks for being the good things,” said Asp.
And then the gang took positions.
You can read more short stories here!
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