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The city was filthy, even in the rain. All the water that constantly rushed down couldn’t clean the streets. The downpour pattered off old slate roofs, held together by Shield Spider chitin glue or, if you were unlucky, mere masonry that dripped and let rivulets of water form spiderwebs as they trickled down towards the ground. Cracks, accumulating over the years.
In the bad parts of the city, her city, you’d have pots and pans out to collect the water dripping down. Each time another leak appeared, you prayed the rainy season would end sooner—because there was no patching that kind of leak; it wouldn’t dry in this damn city until the spring rains ended. Too many and you’d have to clamber out onto a roof, yanking out tiles and slapping down mud and mortar, swearing and hoping the rain didn’t wash away the patch for a few days.
The glue. It was the damn Shield Spider glue. Back in the day, they’d had it, and it was waterproof, dried even when wet—expanded a bit with water until it was hard as stone. The glue was something they’d lost during the 2nd Antinium War.
Crafter’s District, overrun by undead when one of the Zombie Giants and a force of Draugr had made it over the walls. You remembered the screaming, even back then, if you’d survived it. The Necromancer’s forces being pushed out, then artillery spells pounding the city blocks over and over to erase the taint.
That’s how bad it had been. Every second, all the kids had thought they’d be dead, hiding in the safehouses and cellars, listening to the army fight. The first army, that was, the mercenaries. Bastards and brawlers who caused trouble—but who’d come back to lay down their lives for home.
Zel Shivertail, holding down the Necromancer himself. Fighting, they said, for hours on end while dodging spells, surrounded by undead, refusing to die. Those weren’t even Liscor’s greatest hours.
They’d survived the Antinium, seen the North come riding down in a charge to reverse the 1st Antinium War. Their city was the one that had produced General Sserys, the Drake who’d fought the Hives back. Their city…this backwater, this little city she called home.
Not many people remembered it, even though the 2nd Antinium War had been merely ten years ago. That was the dirty secret. Liscor had only had around a hundred thousand souls in it—‘big’ for some Drake cities, but a fraction of the size of a Walled City. A single floor of Pallass contained more people than Liscor by far.
Think on it.
How many do you think died to the plague the Necromancer had spread before his attack? During the siege itself, when anyone of fighting age had been drafted? Or before that? To the Antinium sieging the city?
Liscor’s army had been chewed up, reduced from their glory days under General Sserys. The population—likewise. Take Selys Shivertail, for instance. Both her parents, adventurers, had perished in the fighting. Her grandmother was the only other Shivertail in the city who’d survived outside of Zel himself. Yet by the time that Human, Erin Solstice, had appeared, the city was more or less the same size it had been.
How? Lots of babies? Don’t be stupid. It was how Liscor always had been—that’s what idiots forgot. It was the new faces coming in. The Silverfang Gnolls had shown up after the siege, and the Antinium had made their Hive ten years ago. With them, by the hundreds or dozens, had come Drakes.
Reinforcements. Though the Walled Cities never said it like that. Rather, they just encouraged surplus Drakes to move to Liscor. Gave them some gold or rounded up those without homes or deep roots and sent them off. To fill their border-city that no one really liked or visited to make sure there was that bulwark against the Humans of the north.
Liscor, which existed to be a deterrent, because the south needed it there. Not because it was all that fun to live in, isolated from the south by the Blood Fields, plagued by the rains in the springs, Rock Crabs, Shield Spiders…and then the Antinium. Liscor had always been new Drakes and survivors. The only thing that changed were the faces.
The muck remained.
——
In her office, the Drake blew smoke out of her mouth. She had no pipe or cigar; she didn’t need one. On days like this, when she didn’t have enough fresh air, it built up in her lungs. Imperfect blood is what her instructors had called it, as if it were her fault that she breathed more smoke than fire.
She hadn’t asked for this. The woman coughed, then concentrated and created another stream of grey smoke, expunging it from her lungs before it could reduce her into a mess of wheezing exhalations.
She gazed out across the dark, rainy streets that she knew better than the daylit ones. Her city. Yes…hers. More than the Antinium, more than the Humans or new visitors. She didn’t bear them ill will, but they didn’t know Liscor. They hadn’t grown up here seeing new faces come and go, surviving two Antinium Wars—even if she’d been truly a girl during the first one.
Watch Captain Zevara, though, was a Liscorian, born and raised here. Two wars, well, three if you counted Tyrion Veltras’ siege. Four, perhaps, with the Winter Solstice…Ancestors.
How many ‘originals’ were there? Selys? Selys had left, so that was one less kid from the old days. Drassi—no, she’d come at six or something after the 1st Antinium War. So she was close, but few Gnolls had been here before the 2nd Antinium War.
“Mister Soot. Right. He was one of the originals.”
The old [Mastermind] who’d used to run Liscor’s underworld, the bastard who had some of the Watch taking his gold, who armed the criminals and ran the southwest district, the poorest part of the city. It had all been in his claws—again, in the old days.
After the 1st Antinium War, she’d grown up with him being the Drake everyone knew not to cross, whose people would take anything you stole without question and give you a pittance for it.
He hadn’t remembered her, later, when she’d become a Guardswoman, but she’d always known him—his people had once taken a silver-backed mirror she’d stolen and tossed her down a manhole into the sewers. True, she’d stolen the mirror first when she was seven. The first theft that had landed her in the Watch’s lockup—and she hadn’t even gotten paid for it.
Poor Soot. She meant it too. The Drake lazily blew more smoke up to the ceiling and watched it percolate. No water was leaking from the sturdy Watch House roof. She felt like it should; she always felt like there would be rivulets of it dripping down, like her old apartment, a sheet of water running down a huge crack along one wall. Rats and little Sewer Slimes sometimes scurrying in and out, daring her to make something of it.
“Poor Mister Soot. You did everything right. You were the big Drake on the streets, the Dragon of the underworld. Flash, sharp, and smarts all in one package. You and your little magic wands with three charges in them. Untraceable; you fire a few spells, toss it, and walk off. You had it all. Then the 2nd Antinium War had to happen. Suddenly, Antinium were in the middle of your district, and there were Gnolls who smelled too well and too many outsiders. Then we get money to rebuild, the Watch needs re-bribing, and worse, the old Watch Captain gets ousted and you can’t bribe the new one. Me.”
Her. She smiled at that, though at the time, she recalled sleeping with one eye on the door to her apartment, a sword next to her pillow, sweating every time she led a patrol.
The good old days? Hah! The ‘good old days’ had sucked. It had been just Beilmark, Jeiss, Tiltem, Goirssa…back in those days, Relc was a surly [Soldier] and Klbkch had been the mysterious Antinium liaison no one understood, the Slayer.
Zevara hunted around in her desk, but she didn’t have anything to drink these days. So she poured some medicine for her throat into a cup and toasted them with it instead. Old guards, old crooks. They’d used to be closer together, harder to tell apart. These days, everything was so shiny; she’d made it so, but still.
She felt old.
She wasn’t even thirty yet, but this new Liscor felt odd to her. She still thought she could see the stains on the streets, but everyone acted like everything was on the up-and-up. Maybe it was and she was the only one who remembered the scum.
“You never figured it out, did you, Soot? I adapted better’n you. You…you hated the Gnolls, most of them. Never found a group you couldn’t bribe, but Krshia and her Silverfangs were already a tribe. Half just took your money to make you stop bothering them, and when you sent the bullies down to mess up the ones who resisted, they had bows and stuck together. The Antinium? Even worse.”
No bribing them. No messing with the Soldiers. She nodded to herself.
“Then came Relc, saluting everyone who sneezed, a Level 30 [Spearmaster]. And he put four of your people in the Healer’s clinic for trying to bribe him. You could deal with Relc, though; he wasn’t smart enough to find your guys. But it meant you couldn’t come after us as well. When Klbkch arrived…that’s when you lost it.”
Klbkch and Relc, one ice-cold, the other snapping at him, both hating each other’s guts, she was sure. But they were the only two high-level enough to contain the other—and as much as they’d disliked the other, Soot and the gangs were even better targets.
“Klbkch had his Listeners. No way to dodge them. At the time, we thought it was all his mystic Antinium powers or the Free Queen. Relc was still a soldier, and they busted how many gangs in the first year? Six? And then there was me. You never figured out how I knew all your people and warehouses.”
Good days. Well, again, they sort of sucked, but it had been better helping dismantle the groups she’d grown up being afraid of as a kid. Poor Soot. Truly—he’d gone from running the southwest district to being merely one of the bigger crime-lords in a city that increasingly needed him less.
“Then came Erin. You were already smaller-time, but she was the last straw. I think you didn’t ever meet her. You were smart enough for that, but she had the Antinium riled up. By the time they started patrolling, you were already desperate. The magic door? Windfall for you. You could have operated in Celum, Esthelm, a dozen cities. But it never worked out. When’d you vanish? Around then?”
She couldn’t remember, but she saw the problems. Zevara ticked them off on her claws, imagining Soot was sitting across the room from her in the interrogation chambers, glaring with his red-rimmed eyes and the spectacles he’d had to wear in his old age. Tight-mouthed, wishing he could have her killed.
“Erin. Maybe when she was low-level you could have roughed her up, but even then, Relc and Klbkch were visiting her. And she had that skeleton and Pisces—none of the old guard would mess with undead. Plus, Selys was her friend—no one tweaks old Tekshia’s tail. She killed the last gang leader who tried.”
The Watch Captain mused to herself, then snapped her fingers and almost laughed.
“The Antinium! Of course! You never could touch her, Soot! The moment she got interesting, she was friends with them, and you’d never risk that. I think you did try it—once. But Klbkch or the Antinium taught you there was no value in trying to deal with them, only death.”
Ah, so she’d been more than just ‘lucky’. And even after that? Soot might have wanted that magical door and thought it worth the risk, but it just kept getting worse for the old crook. She shook her head.
“Then Erin had Hobgoblins in her inn. Hobgoblins. You couldn’t get the door then, and after that? Invrisil, Pallass? Too much heat. Too many high-level people making Liscor safe. Grimalkin, Chaldion—dead gods. Poor Soot!”
The last thing he’d wanted was Liscor’s dungeon attracting adventurers to the city. Gold-ranks were hard to corrupt, and if they got mad at your people, your people died.
Poor Soot! Zevara sobered and pulled out a file. She had her feet up on her desk, and she stared at the file.
Mister Soot. She had so many documents on him that it was a briefcase unto itself. She’d written half of them. Damn. The old days when he’d been the Watch’s biggest problem. She put the file down and stared at the one on ‘Erin Solstice’.
Twice as big. Filled with wax seals, colored folders, covered with stamps denoting classified information sealed to higher clearances. All of it above her right to access, but since she’d written almost all the reports she knew what was inside.
“What got you, Soot? That was no way to go. Dead in one of your safe-rooms, not enough of you to even turn into an undead? Probably Bearclaw, but where the hell did Bearclaw go? Did she run off or did something get her? Klbkch taking care of business quietly? Not his style, but he changed…did one of Pallass’ Eyes clean up? Or was it…something else?”
She’d never figured out what had killed him. But she had been almost positive it had been his corpse that had been found. Him and his bodyguards had been torn to shreds, and, the [Guards] had thought, been eaten.
At the time Zevara had been on high alert, so she’d checked and they’d not found any hearts among all the dead Gnolls…but she had no proof. Nor had any more disappearances threatened Liscor. A copycat could do the same thing and pin it on the Raskghar.
Regardless, that had been the end of the old crook. Soot’s people had been so terrified they’d reported it to the Watch. And his gang had fallen apart; he hadn’t grabbed any of his assets. Old Soot would never leave and retire without his loot.
Perhaps it was time to put the file away, but Zevara kept it around for old times’ sake. A reminder of when things had been different. Not easier. Did she like today’s Liscor? She thought about it.
“Lots of Humans these days. Even a few Garuda, Dullahans from Pallass. I swear I saw a half-Elf the other day and almost shouted Ceria’s name. Hah. The city’s never had more gold, Soot. Even back when Sserys was in charge…we’ve got [Necromancers] in their village, and the city’s half again as large. Antinium on the streets, incorruptible, they say. Watch Commander Venim…I think I like these new days more than the ones when it was just you and me and the old damn Council and Olesm trying to hold things together with a shoelace for a budget and no powers.”
Dead gods, she’d forgotten Olesm doing the job no one wanted, scurrying around the Council’s offices as they passed stupid little laws. Zevara shook her head and knocked back the rest of her drink and coughed more smoke out.
“It’s way better, Soot. Crazy Humans and all. Even wars and all, probably. Back in the day, we just wondered when the next big thing would kill half the city. These days…well, the inn events are getting bigger, but no one’s killed a third of Liscor off. Yet.”
She knocked on her desk and sighed. Zevara’s head turned to the streets, the filthy streets she swore she could see trash on, overflowing sewers, piss streaking the walls—despite the fact that the sewers ran beautifully these days and she hadn’t seen that much trash at all. She felt like it was her city.
“Or maybe it’s my turn, Soot. Maybe it’s my turn.”
The Watch Captain put her empty cup on the desk and coughed. She wiped at her mouth and stared blankly ahead as the rain kept pattering down. Because she felt rather like an old Drake in a new city again, despite her age.
Out of place. Out of touch. No one had come running up her steps with an emergency all week. She had no outstanding reports that Venim hadn’t already marked as being handled. Zevara fiddled with her desk and put something on the table. A little present; she’d bought the best sharpening stone she could from Pallass, one that left a bit of magic on the edge of your blade.
A gift…for the newest Watch Captain of Liscor. Zevara had even had Beilmark’s name stencilled onto the bag, which she felt was classy.
Not that Zevara was quitting, mind you. It was just that Liscor was getting another Watch Captain. Two, in fact, who’d be under Watch Commander Venim. Senior Guardsman Ronss was going to make Watch Captain for the north district; Beilmark would get 3rd District. Two new Watch Houses, and a headquarters in the new city center. Way more control, way more efficiency for a bigger city. Zevara imagined her job would be easier. Fewer all-nighters and sleeping at her desk.
…She had no idea what to do. Maybe she should have taken the Watch Commander job. But she would have hated meeting with the Council more, along with more paperwork. The Drake put her feet up on the desk, a luxury, and stared at the rain.
She wished she could stop thinking about Soot.
——
Maybe she hated Liscor. Elsewise, why would she keep looking for dirt? This filthy city…
It wasn’t like it had ever been filled with gutters running with poo, or the stuff you heard about in bad Drake cities—and there were a few.
Worhall; wasn’t that the name of a Drake city that had gone bad? She remembered hearing about it. Sewers backed up. Breaches in the wall. Drakes leaving and carting off everything they could carry. Normally, it was all ‘Drakes don’t run’, stubborn ‘my home is my home, I’ll die before leaving it’. But even Drakes had their breaking points, and…when had that expression started, anyways? With General Sserys. Back in the day, Drakes would pack up for better cities.
That was the dream in smaller cities: that you’d save up, get rich doing something, and move to a Walled City where you’d be safe and retire in one of the Drake heartland capitals. As a kid, Zevara had had the same dream of moving to Pallass one day. But things were changing.
Zevara didn’t know other Drake cities, she guessed. She knew Esthelm more than other Drake cities; she’d been there several times as a youth, before Erin and the magical door, again. It was the kind of city that you went to as a Drake, working up your courage to drink at a Human bar to say you could, or where you worked mining jobs if you had to be out of Liscor for a while. It wasn’t like Esthelm’s folk had gone at Liscorians the moment they saw Drakes, but you stuck with other Drakes, and sometimes there was a rumble…you avoided the other city for a while after that.
Few deaths. But Liscor hadn’t been multicultural until the Gnolls came along. Krshia Silverfang—not that anyone had known she was in charge until later—and the Gnolls. Gnolls and Antinium changing the city into one that wouldn’t chase Erin Solstice away. Lism hadn’t been pleasant, but it could have been worse. A lot worse.
Bad cities. Had Liscor been one? Close, perhaps. Worhall with the infrastructure issues. Cellidel sounded bad too. Rotten to the core. All the Watch officers mistreating Gnolls. Riots in the city. It had been a mistake to send Relc there, but they’d been so upbeat about having a Senior Guardsman—she’d thought it was respect.
Liscor? Not that bad. Surely. Surely…and then Zevara realized if it was on the cusp of being a ‘bad city’ for her; back then, she was who Liscor had been made for.
The Gnolls. The Antinium. It had definitely been a bad one to the first waves who’d come there. She felt a pang in her heart. Restlessly, the Watch Captain had to stand, unable to sit as her conscience prickled. As bad as Cellidel for Antinium.
“Damn it. I can’t stay here.”
——
Zevara took a night patrol out on the city in the same quiet mood she’d been in. Regular [Guards], a mixed patrol. Three Drakes, one Human, an Antinium, one Gnoll.
She only knew one of them well: Tkrn’s old partner, Junior Guardswoman Jerci, who’d made full Guardswoman recently. They marched along with Zevara, calling out items of interest, trying to act smart and look good. They must have thought she was testing them, like the sharp Antinium patrol from last time. Zevara patted the shoulder wet Gnoll barking orders after three blocks of marching in the rain.
It was late. Liscor’s buildings loomed like grey monoliths in the rain, stone blocks illuminated by soft light in places, but dark. Damn dark. The city had torches for night lighting, but not in the spring. She nodded to the young Gnoll woman who was trying not to shiver. Young…she was probably only eight years younger than Zevara. But she seemed to treat Zevara like the Watch Captain was Beilmark’s age.
“You can relax, Guardswoman Jerci. We’ll just wake half the block if we keep shouting. Not a lot happens on a night shift—if we’re lucky. Let’s just do the rounds.”
“Er, yes, Watch Captain. Should we be on the lookout for anything? It’s pretty dark, yes?”
They all had lanterns, and Zevara snorted as the squad shone the lights around.
“Stow everything. Let’s walk in the dark.”
“That’s not protocol, Watch Captain—”
One of the Drakes began and shut up as his compatriot elbowed him. Zevara glanced at the Antinium, but this was a Worker who hadn’t been as noisy as the all-Antinium squad.
“It used to be the Watch went around in the dark. Light ruins your nightvision, so you kept your head on a swivel and moved silent. With streets this dark, we’ll see better without lanterns.”
It was true, the patrol realized as they followed her. Without the glare of the lanterns, they could see everything equally. It was eerier, but soon they were all moving well in the dark, especially the Antinium.
“What’re your names, squad?”
“Er, Junior Guardsman Nen, Junior Guardswoman Eissa, Junior Guardsman Trolle, Junior Guardsman Bootstrap, and Junior Guardsman Thorton, Watch Captain.”
Nen introduced his compatriots, then the Antinium, ‘Bootstrap’, and Thorton. Zevara glanced down; sure enough, the Antinium had bootstraps. Which was rather funny, because most Antinium didn’t have shoes. If they were issued boots at all, they were without strings because Workers and especially Soldiers had trouble lacing them up. Klbkch had managed, but he was the exception.
She nodded at them.
“Walk slow and don’t shout. If you see something actually suspicious, nudge the [Guard] next to you and signal your leader; in this case, me or Guardswoman Jerci. Got it? Normally, you rookies wouldn’t be on patrol for a night watch. Not in the full dark.”
She kept her pace slow, strolling down the street, avoiding the streams of water rushing into the gutters. It was hard to hear anything over the roar of rain and water, but she could pick up the footsteps of her squad, and her eyes were focused on everything and nothing at once. It was sudden movement or inconsistencies in the shadows around her she was scanning for.
Perhaps it was her mood. Zevara hadn’t led a patrol out in…ages. Not like this; she only took command when there was a fight, a monster, or trouble. Then she went with hard-hitters to The Wandering Inn or to the spot and restored order. Leading a patrol?
Again, it wasn’t the same as the Antinium squad, and the rookies felt it.
“We could move faster, Watch Captain. We’re no slouches. We heard you covered half the city with the Antinium patrol yesterday.”
Jerci murmured after a moment. Zevara just ambled forwards, slower than the patrol’s normal march. The Gnoll was biting her lip, clearly worried they were being treated like slouches.
“That was me seeing how well they knew the job. And them being too enthusiastic to rein in, Guardswoman Jerci. It’s late. We have six hours on our feet. Keep it slow. Like I said, loud boots mean you’re warning everyone you’re coming. In the old days, the Watch always moved this fast.”
A long shift, even if they were allowed to break every two hours for fifteen minutes. Jerci nodded, but her eyes darted to Zevara.
“You mean…when you were a Junior Guardswoman, Watch Captain?”
“Hm? Oh, not even that. Five years ago, even, this was how we operated. No lanterns.”
The female Drake raised her hand. She had russet red scales and a stubby snout, and she held her spear like an amateur, but she seemed eager. Another oddity…no, only to the mindset Zevara was in today. She was trapped in the past. The rains brought back memories, trickling down.
“How’d you catch anyone in the dark, Watch Captain? It’s impossible to see anyone breaking into a house unless there’s a scream or breaking glass, pardon my saying so. I can’t wait for the new, magical lantern-posts that the Council’s promising to install.”
“Magical lanterns, what, on every street?”
Zevara remembered that in a report, vaguely, but since Venim had taken over, she didn’t have to report to the Council so often. The [Guards] peered at each other and nodded. She laughed.
“Back in the day, that would have been a waste of gold.”
“Why, Watch Captain?”
Nens asked blankly. The Drakes were the chatty ones. She guessed they were all native Liscorians; the Human, Thorton, was their age, but he seemed warier of speaking up around her, as for Bootstrap…the Antinium was listening, but kept his head on a swivel, antennae twitching. Only he and Thorton avoided the streams of water like she did, perhaps because he’d noticed, perhaps because he just feared it.
She spoke over the boots splashing in the gutters.
“They’d be stolen, of course. You couldn’t put a torch in a holster in some parts of the city without someone taking it.”
Nens snorted.
“A torch? That’s not even worth, what, a copper for a spent torch, Watch Captain.”
“No, but twelve might be worth a few coppers. Wood’s expensive—or was. The door makes it so much cheaper, but there was a time even a cheap wooden chair could be worth a silver piece or more even resold. So long as it wasn’t utter scrapwood.”
“Hah. What did everyone sit on then?”
She gave Nens a curious look.
“Stone. Or those old Shield Spider chairs, you know, the shiny black ones with polish, like lacquer?”
“Those ugly things? My grandma has one in her home.”
Nens laughed, but Zevara just shrugged.
“Wood was expensive. Traders used to come down the road with huge wagons and just sell entire trees off at a killing. It was a decent job; you’d just ride up north past Esthelm, find a forest, and hire a [Woodcutter] or do the job yourself. Then come back, drop the trees off, and count your gold. Humans from Celum did it; it was the only time we ever saw them. Big [Woodcutters] who’d brawl with our army’s [Soldiers] in the street. I once saw a hundred of ‘em go at it. It took half the Day Watch to break it up.”
“I remember that, Watch Captain. I was nine when it happened. The Council banned Humans from the city for a month, didn’t they?”
Trolle surprised Zevara, but then, he was probably twenty…she nodded. Did he remember the old days? No, he was shooting her an interested glance like the others. She supposed being a kid was still different to being a [Guard] back then, and eight years…he didn’t remember a time much before the 2nd Antinium War. A different Liscor back then. And a different one before the 1st Antinium War. Even after the 1st Antinium War, they’d been on the rise as ‘Sserys’ city’.
“So how’d you stop crimes in the dark, Watch Captain?”
Eissa wanted to know, and Zevara rolled her shoulders, self-conscious.
“We didn’t. Not much. You’d walk around like this, in the quiet, and if someone shouted ‘thief’, you maybe went after whomever it was. Usually, they were gone too fast on nights like these. Murder or screams for help—those you ran for. And you hoped to the Ancestors you didn’t run into a gang.”
“A gang? Doing what? Some big heist?”
“Just…out, Guardswoman Eissa. Trolle, you remember that, don’t you? Remember the Soot gang walking down some streets?”
“I, uh, I grew up in the northwest district, Watch Captain. I don’t remember many gangs.”
She twisted around to get a look at Trolle. Then he was from a richer family; north was where the biggest personal mansions and money was. Jewelers, magic-users, and the like. And he wanted to be a [Guard]?
“Well. I remember them. Jerci? Eissa? Nens?”
They all shook their heads. Jerci scratched her chin.
“I remember being a cub and there used to be some times when all the Gnolls on the block would come out because there was trouble, but no gangs.”
“You’re all too young. Trust me, there were times when an entire gang would come out and just walk a street, and the Watch cleared out. Too many, too high-level, too ready to kill. Other cities have worse problems with gangs. Invrisil, for one. That’s why you watch yourself if a group of out-of-city visitors comes in. Got it?”
They nodded. Because she had that antsy feeling from the old days, Zevara snapped.
“Don’t walk in the gutters either. Walk where I’m walking, see? You’re splashing too loud.”
They checked their feet and shuffled after her. Zevara murmured.
“No torches. Fewer guards. Fewer good guards.”
“Dead gods, Watch Captain. You make it sound like we were a Human city once, all bad Watch! There’s this Gnoll kid in the Junior Guards—one of Relc’s trainees, Vok—who talks about Cellidel, where Sergeant Relc went. They have a bad Watch. But ours?”
She smiled to herself.
“Drake Watches have more money and, generally, better training, but it’s all subjective, Guardsman Nens. There are Human cities where it’s safer at night because the right gang holds your street. Isn’t that right, Guardsman Thorton?”
He jumped slightly, and his voice was husky when everyone turned to him.
“Th-that’s right, Watch Captain. How’d you know…?”
“You walk like a streetkid or someone who knows how. And your head’s swivelling right. Which city?”
“Remendia, Watch Captain.”
“All the way up there? Why to Liscor?”
He shrugged, self-conscious.
“Seems like there’s more money here then old Remendia. ‘Twas a bad winter. Lots of hungry people. I heard there was food here and in the Unseen Empire, and my old man flipped a coin on which one we were bound for.”
“Oh, so your family’s here. Working in 3rd District?”
“Yes, Watch Captain. Builders, though half have signed up for work in the smithies.”
“They always need hands. Councilwoman Raekea’s been trying to get us mining the mountains more. Though Esthelm’s got Master Pelt.”
Nens broke in excitedly.
“Who d’you think is gonna win the elections, Watch Captain? All the challengers or the current Council? Everyone’s saying it might be better to replace them, but who’d want to replace Lism?”
She turned her head so he couldn’t see her expression by moonlight, then spoke neutrally.
“Not my place to interfere or comment, Guardsman Nens.”
“Oh, come on, Watch Captain! If you said something—half the city knows you’re still the Watch Captain, even with that new Watch Commander.”
She snorted softly.
“You make it sound like I’m so important.”
“You were the one who fought off Skinner and the undead—and carried us through the siege, the monster attacks, and, and—”
“I’m not even Level 40, Guardsman Nens.”
“You’re not, Watch Captain?”
They seemed astounded at this. Zevara skirted round an open sewer, peering down inside, but there were no Sewer Slimes all bunched up—back in the day, you’d pluck out their filthy mana cores, give them a rinse, and sell them to the Mage’s Guild. She poked the opening with her sheathed sword anyways.
“Do they still teach you to poke the sewer grates with a spear every time you pass?”
“No, Watch Captain. Should we…?”
“…Forget it. No, I’m not Level 40. Nor was I as instrumental as you think. Liscor survived these things, but it was adventurers, the Free Antinium—not me single-handedly slaying Face-Eater Moth Mothers. Dead gods, I’m twenty-eight.”
“You are? My Mom swore you were her age, and she’s forty-f—”
Nens shut up when the other trainees nudged him. Jerci avoided Zevara’s eyes as the Watch Captain glared back. She wondered if she appeared that old. Dead gods, maybe she did need to take care of her appearance.
“If I…seem important, it’s just because I survived, Guardsman. From the time before the inn got here. Just like Strategist—I mean, Strategos Olesm. Aside from the army, there were a lot of vacancies that needed filling. Lots of dead Drakes. Craftspeople, leaders, Guildleaders—all died during the 1st and 2nd Antinium Wars.”
They nodded at that. Zevara took them down off the main street, heading westwards. Through old stomping grounds. These days, the eastern district was getting as important as the northern district, since a lot of traffic came from the north via the roads.
The southwestern district where the Antinium had their Hive had always been poorest. Of course, even here, things were on the up, but the streets were the same. She led the patrol without needing to look up her route, and they saw people hurrying around, night crews, some adventurers heading out to the dungeon—all of them seemed surprised when the Watch patrol came upon them without lanterns.
“I feel like a criminal myself. Uh, sorry Watch Captain!”
Nens muttered, and Zevara chuckled.
“We need to take the pulse of the city, Nens. The good parts and the bad.”
“By walking around at night, Watch Captain? I get the part about not being ambushed, but…what’s going without a lantern do about the rest?”
“Ever tried to catch a rat in your apartment, Nens? Or a bug? When you raise a lantern, what does it do? The louder you clomp…well, this is the Antinium district. It’s always been both crime and safety. No one messes with the Black Tide. Though I’ve heard the Antinium now have money to spend.”
That made Zevara turn back and glance at the Antinium trudging through the rain after the group. An Antinium with a job. No kids, no vices like drinking, but he might well buy an item in the market. An Antinium like a person; so odd to have more than just Klbkch.
“Everything good in the Antinium district, Junior Guardsman Bootstrap?”
He visibly hesitated at the question and cocked his head to one side before replying.
“The district? Of course, Watch Captain. More money has come into the Hive from all the building work. Some of it is being paid to new Workers as a result. The Painted Antinium and [Crusaders] also generate—and cost—more. The Hive has never been more active.”
“Are all the Workers like you, Bootstrap?”
Trolle asked curiously, and Bootstrap instantly shook his head.
“I am an Individual Antinium. Most are not. Even Autonomous Antinium are very…simple. It is a blessing, a privilege, to be more. But it means more problems.”
“Like what?”
Zevara’s neck spines rose slightly as she glanced back at Bootstrap, and he sighed.
“Taxes.”
“Oh, taxes.”
The entire squad grumbled about them. Zevara waited for more, but Bootstrap just saluted her with one hand.
“I am not as vigorous as Bug Squad, Captain Zevara, but I enjoy my job. All is well in the Hive areas. Our biggest job is breaking up fights over new pets. Or the dungeon. There are suits of enchanted armor that come out—but this is an Antinium issue. I can think of nothing that affects us besides that.”
“Very good, Guardsman Bootstrap. You just tell Jerci or a Senior Guard if anything does come up. C’mon, we’ll investigate the spots I know.”
And so they did. It was the back alleys, the smaller side streets that Zevara was after. There you could still find Drakes and Gnolls—and Humans too, she had no doubt—searching for an easy mark, whether it was through pickpocketing or violence. Or perhaps someone smuggling drugs in, or just someone searching for an abandoned street so they could enter a shop and grab what they could.
As they walked, Zevara thought something was wrong about how Bootstrap had said that. She believed him, of course, and she could see that he was right, but it struck her that an Antinium might not have the best read on his own Hive. Klbkch hadn’t, but…
Well, getting your own eyes on things mattered. So when they came to a particularly decrepit street, Zevara held up a claw to have them stop. This was [Guardswoman] work, not [Watch Captain] work. A distinction that might not matter to the squad, but it did to Zevara.
She spoke softly. More to herself, now.
“This probably isn’t good training. Watch Commander Venim’s put together a solid regimen for new [Guards]. I’m taking you around like we used to do. Pallass’ Watch is loud and moves fast. Liscor’s old one moved at a slouch. Right, Thorton?”
The Human man spoke up.
“Right, Watch Captain. Walk slow, don’t stir up trouble. Let the gangs work unless someone gets killed.”
“Exactly.”
“We really used to do that, Watch Captain?”
Nens was outraged. Zevara just gave him a silent gaze as smoke trickled from her mouth.
“Sometimes, you’re outnumbered, Guardsman Nens. And you don’t know, if you blow a whistle, if anyone’s going to come running or whether you can trust the squad at your back.”
She spotted a familiar bar up ahead, and it was Jerci who murmured.
“Is that why you ousted the old Watch Captain, um, Watch Captain Zevara? You were the youngest Drake to ever be named Watch Captain in Liscor’s history.”
Zevara didn’t look over her shoulder as the rest of the patrol turned to Jerci, then to her with clear astonishment.
“That’s old…that’s history, Guardswoman Jerci. The Watch needed changing. And so it has, for the better. I just feel like Watch Commander Venim’s the best leader for the times.”
And I’m tired. Complacent, maybe. With Erin gone, I just let The Wandering Inn solve its crises. There’s no Soot for me to battle. I can’t stop Goblin Kings or magical spells from the heavens. Maybe I’m the old dog unable to learn a new trick, even with a [Beast Tamer] around. Maybe I should get a dog. Take more time off.
Didn’t Elirr have this pet Frost Wyvern he was training? That would be a challenge. Zevara peered at the squad as they stopped in front of a battered tavern. Nens squinted up to stare at the name.
“The Corused Steer? Shouldn’t that be ‘The Corused Deer’?”
“Nope. Whomever came up with the name didn’t know that steer referred to cows. You ever been to a dive bar, Nens?”
“One or two, Watch Captain. And we’ve broken up bar fights before.”
That was common work for the Watch. Zevara nodded at him.
“Good. This isn’t a dive bar. It’s a hellhole bar. One, two steps nastier. Stay with the squad, don’t look anyone in the eyes too long, and don’t take too much interest in what people are doing. Stick to the door.”
They gulped. In truth, Zevara doubted it was going to be a problem. The Corused Steer had bloody fights, and she’d been in a few—but that had, again, been the old days.
Still, when she eased the door open, the buzz of voices in the decently-busy bar went low, then quiet when they saw her uniform. Someone moved out of the shadows; a big Drake missing half his neck-spines.
“No one called for the Watch, Guardswoman…”
“We’re just looking around. Is [Barman] Bobble here?”
There was a grunt from the Drake, who gave her a second eye.
“You know Bobble? Hey—”
The ‘hey’ was when the rest of the squad pushed in. At this, several patrons shifted in their seats; they were arrayed around the room at circular tables, drinks in hand. Puffer smoke ran throughout the room, laced with sharper smells—probably not Dreamleaf, since those here would want to keep sharp. It smelled like Mage’s Whiskervine; that pumped your mind up, then left you stupid once it wore off.
Zevara spotted dice on some tables, the old booths with the red curtains along one wall. A pair of scantily-clad Drakes stopped serving drinks and moved back towards the bar with instantaneous reflexes. Zevara raised a hand as the [Bouncer] clearly debated whether or not to try to get them to leave. Back in the old days, one of them would have already tossed a member of the squad out. Or be waiting for the regulars to do the job for them. The Drake spoke to the room.
“We’re just having a look ‘round. No one’s aiming to change the straw tonight. It’s wet, and I want a drink. Is Bobble there? Give me two claws of Firebreath Whiskey.”
Jerci’s mouth opened as Zevara made for the bar. The rest of the squad watched as Zevara tossed some coins onto the bar, and the patrons settled down. It was how she spoke, more casually, abandoning the crisp accent of the Watch Captain. It told them she knew the score. No one talked about straw in the Steer without knowing what that meant.
The [Bartender] who served her the cheap whiskey eyed her, not recognizing Zevara, but the moment the older [Barman], Bobble, came out, his eyes widened.
“Is that Zevara? Senior—no, Watch Captain Zevara?”
Every head snapped around again, and Zevara sighed. She saw the relaxing patrons suddenly turn to the doors and begin eyeing windows, as if ready to leap out of them. She hugged Bobble one-armed; he was a big Drake with an eyepatch and a cleaver for a left hand—he sliced up some ice and slid it into her drink as if the chipped metal cleaver were as nimble as digits. He was fast with the cleaver-hand too. Very fast. She still remembered a streak of blood on the old bar’s counter running from a Drake with a cut throat as Bobble shoved the body to the floor.
The floor…with straw on it. Straw that absorbed spills and messes. It wasn’t something most places did these days. But it soaked up a lot. Blood, among other things.
By now, Jerci had put two and two together and realized that this was one of the bars that the Watch sometimes got called to for the really nasty fights. The ones where you sent Senior Guards and told the rest of the squad to put on chainmail. Where you’d call for Relc and Klbkch. She was giving Zevara nervous stares as Zevara took the drink that Bobble served her on the flat of his cleaver.
“Bobble, you scalerat. Are you trying to get my rookies stabbed? Reassure these goodfolk that I’m not about to have the Watch bust down the doors.”
Bobble raised his voice and grinned, gaps in his teeth, around the bar.
“Don’t anyone sweat. Watch Captain Zevara’d never hug me if she was coming in for someone. She and me go way back, back to when she was a Junior Guardswoman. She knows better than to come into the Steer without four full squads of backup if there was trouble.”
Zevara snorted softly.
“If there was trouble, I’d get a Wand of Fireballs and blast this place down from the outside. I’d be reducing deaths in the city and making it cleaner.”
“Guardswoman Zevara, you wound me.”
Bobble laughed phlegmily and spat onto the ground as if to prove that the Steer had never been cleaner, which was probably true. Zevara took a gulp of the whiskey, wiped her mouth, and put the cup back.
It took a strong stomach to take down drinks here. If the rotgut liquor didn’t put you on your tail, the unhygienic glasses would—but she reckoned she’d drunk enough here to have an immunity if anyone did.
“So what brings you to the Steer, Watch Captain? Something tells me you don’t need information on what’s going on around here, not for the Watch Captain. Or is that shiny fellow from Pallass taking all the info? The Watch’s never appeared sharper, you know. Half my customers complain about it. You’ll be running me out of business next.”
Bobble eyed Zevara as he pretended to polish the bar with a rag that was probably making it dirtier. Zevara snorted.
“The Watch doesn’t come here, Bobble. Unless it’s to break up a fight. Venim’s no idiot. He’s not going to crack down on the Steer—not unless he wants more injured [Guards] and all the trouble you get in here across other bars in the city.”
“Well, just so long as you tell him that. These newcomers, they don’t know our city, Watch Captain. Even that Sergeant Relc is too keen to change things up. No respect for the old stuff.”
The [Barman] gave Zevara a grin, and she thought she smelled something on his breath, now. Probably Golucky or something that’d keep him from feeling his scars and in a good mood. He traded in drugs and took a cut of the gambling here—Liscor didn’t restrict gambling to designated locations, but gambling for gold was supposed to be only a single table in a tavern. She bet there were high-stakes games in some back rooms—high stakes games with high consequences for cheaters.
But Bobble was no kingpin of crime. Even the name—Drakes had stupid names, but ‘Bobble’ was a hard sell for a gang leader, even for them. She smiled at him, genuine.
“Relc’s keen to protect kids and keep the city safe from real monsters, Bobble. So long as you don’t have someone who’s dragging their tail through the sewers in your fine establishment, he’ll never come calling. You know that. What, are you that worried of Venim? Pallass has plenty of crime.”
Bobble shrugged, clearly reassured as he poured a drink for himself. All the patrons were undoubtedly listening in to their chat. He tossed his cloth sideways at a Gnoll, who jumped and probably caught a venereal disease.
“People talk. Hey, stop leaning in! Can’t I catch up with an old—friend? D’you recognize Maxius here, Zevara? Or any of the old faces?”
She waved a claw.
“Most probably changed since I was a Senior Guardswoman. Maxius…knives, right?”
The Gnoll pulled the cloth off his nose and tried not to gag.
“Bobble, that thing could kill a skunk. Knives, Watch Captain? I may have sold one or two over the years. I remember you—”
She grinned at him as he did the innocent game with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Yes, yes. You used to sell knives before a big fight in the Steer. It got so bad that every time you opened your coat, anyone with sense went for the nearest window.”
“Watch Captain, I’m entirely respectable these days. Now, I have a little storefront down Cherishing Way.”
Where you could get a few tweaks for your knife, she had no doubt, from a serrated edge to a bit of poison or file off identifying initials or tracking spells off a stolen blade. She tipped her cup to him and took another gulp.
“Life’s treated you well, then?”
“Not as well as you, Watch Captain. We were all very proud, you know, when you made Watch Captain. Bobble served out free drinks. We all said you’d be coming with the Watch any moment to bust this place down.”
Maxius grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes. Zevara sat with her back to the bar, inspecting the room.
“I’m just here to reminisce. You can stop [Pumping for Information], Maxius.”
His smile slipped.
“Just a curious Gnoll, Watch Captain. One might think you were after someone here.”
“Soot’s dead. Who else should I be going after?”
Maxius and Bobble traded gazes, and Zevara’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“—Unless there’s a bigger player back in Liscor?”
“There’s some…Brothers. Rather interesting fellows. You know about them, Watch Captain?”
She thought of Normen, blazing with fire, and raised her brows. Or Wilovan and Ratici—
“Invrisil’s gang. What about them? I know they’re in Liscor. I thought they just had a few streets.”
“More’n a few, Watch Captain. They’re getting big fast. Very strident fellows they are, too. All smiles until you do the wrong thing on their turf. Mostly, they just talk, but if you cross their lines—they’re rather direct.”
From the way Bobble licked his lips, he didn’t like what he’d seen. Few things made the Drake nervous, so Zevara blinked.
“I had no idea they scared the gangs around here so bad. What happened to the old tough attitudes? You cross me and we’ll feed you to the fishes in the spring, the Shield Spiders anytime else?”
She meant it as a light jest, but Bobble spat again.
“Easy for you to say, Guardsw—Captain. You’ve never seen them take their hellcursed hats off. Between them and the Antinium, it’s hard to make a living.”
She gave him a sardonic look.
“I sincerely doubt the Watch would make things impossible to live around here, even if we were four times larger, Bobble. Don’t cry healing potions to me.”
“I’m just saying, Watch Captain, if there were anyone you wanted to watch—things are quieter without Soot. But there’s always another Soot, if you catch my drift.”
“Not the same as him, though. Seeing you back here reminds me of the old schemer. I almost thought you were going to ask where he was and have Relc, Klbkch, Jeiss, and Beilmark kick down the doors like the old days. Five of you versus the entire pub.”
Maxius murmured, and Zevara raised her glass. They chinked them. She took down the rest of her drink.
“Those days sucked Creler eggs, Maxius. You cry about the Brothers, but they keep their noses cleaner than you two. Sadly. I’ll check on them, maybe. But I was really just visiting old haunts.”
The [Barman] chuckled.
“Most of the new blood’s scared to look you in the eye. Once word gets around you came back here, I expect all the old names will come circling if you wanted to come back.”
“And get stabbed through the earhole? No thanks, Bobble. Your drink’s just as foul as I remember. Try not to poison anyone tonight, alright?”
Zevara strode to the doors, and Bobble called after her, laughing.
“As you say, Guardswoman! And that, you young hatchlings, is the Watch Captain. The real Watch Captain, who used to be as tall as my knee. Then a Guardswoman who survived Soot and all the old bastards. Slept with one eye open—you ever think about tiptoeing up on her, or Beilmark, and you remember that. And that half the regulars’ll slit your throat for thinking it. We need someone who knows the score. Not too crooked, but not so straight she falls and cuts herself.”
Zevara rolled her eyes at that as she sauntered out of the bar, not too fast. Walking the walk—she wished it didn’t make her happy to hear Bobble’s rare compliments about her, even if it was all fake Dragonbreath.
Not too crooked, not too straight. They liked that she respected the Steer and kept her people from going into places where they’d get hurt. But perhaps…that was a sign she was still a mucky Guardswoman, and they needed Venim, who came from a Walled City where things were done right.
The Watch didn’t teach new Guards to let people off with warnings. They had strict rules about bribery, drinking on duty, and accepting gifts. All the hallmarks of the looser policing that Zevara had hated and tried to stamp out were gone in the next generation. But that meant, in time, she too became the fossil…
——
The patrol gave her wide-eyed gazes when they left The Corused Steer. Zevara didn’t say much for a block or two. Then she sighed.
“Bobble’s killed a lot of people with that cleaver in hand. Don’t mistake him or the Gnoll, Maxius—they’re old, and both are over Level 30. They can kill as easy as blinking, but I doubt you’ll ever see them except as innocent bystanders. They know better. As for the Steer, don’t go in and start trouble. If you get called for a brawl or a murder, get in, get out, and only sniff around if you have a lot of backup.”
“I smelled some illicit substances in there, Watch Captain…”
Jerci began nervously, and Zevara nodded.
“So did I. Unless we had Relc and a full squad armed up, I wouldn’t go after someone unless they were snorting Selphid’s Dust in my face. Half will be out the windows before you sneeze. They’re fast with blades and other nasty tricks in there. You need a bar like the Steer around.”
“May I ask for clarity as to why, Watch Captain? If this objectionable bar were burnt, as you previously iterated, would it not cut down on criminal acts and thus raise safety for the city?”
She grinned ruefully at the question. Then realized it was Bootstrap who’d spoken for the second time. The other [Guards], except for Trolle, nodded in agreement, and she replied.
“That’s not bad logic, Guardsman Bootstrap. But it doesn’t work that way. In practice, it would only mean all the criminals find another bar to go to. They’d spread out their mischief, not contain it in one place. The Watch can never be everywhere. Having places where the gangs can make mischief for each other and clean it up…is a necessity. Even in Pallass.”
She hoped they weren’t taking the wrong lessons from this. Zevara quickened her pace, guiding them back to the main streets, regretting her decision already. If it had gone bad, she’d have put them in a dangerous spot. But they had to know about dangerous things too. If the Watch clanked about all professional like, then they wouldn’t be sharp when they had to cross blades in a dark alley…
They were heading down the main street that ran down the entire city from north gate to south when a bunch of spotlights focused on them. Zevara shielded her eyes and thought, for a second, it was a passing wagon with too many lanterns. Then she heard a shout.
“Halt! In the name of the Watch!”
“Huh?”
Then she heard the jangle and stomp of boots in water—six [Guards] were coming at her fast. Her squad halted, and she held up a hand.
“What’re you—”
“They don’t have their lanterns! They’re fakes! Get them!”
Before she knew it, a second group of [Guards] was rushing them, batons drawn, blowing their whistle. Zevara’s mouth opened as she saw a Gnoll running at her, truncheon in hand.
“We’re on patrol—drop that!”
Whistles blew, and Jerci was shouting too, but what Zevara saw was the truncheon swinging for her head. She reacted instantly. She drew her sword and inhaled.
Her lungs, always itchy, seemed to smolder, and she concentrated, forming a murky ball of smoke and flames in her mind’s eye. Then she spat it out her lungs.
It burned as it came out, a roiling cloud of sparks and smoke. It made the Gnoll waving the truncheon yelp and stumble backwards, flailing at the air.
“Dragonbreath! Dragonbreath—”
She strode forwards, kicked the [Guard] in the knee, and hopped out of the way of a two-handed swing. Zevara clacked her teeth together, spraying sparks—a trick that made the Gnoll flinch. When he brought up his truncheon, shielding his face, she hooked a leg and knocked his weapon away. Down he went, the wooden club clattering on the ground.
“They got Jorrey! Form up! Form—”
She parried a club’s swing, fast, and threw an elbow into a helmeted face. That hurt because she caught the edge of a faceguard and cut her scales. But whomever she’d hit stumbled back. Cursing, Zevara feinted to her left, keeping two more figures away from her with jabs—the fallen Gnoll tried to grab her leg. He got a boot in the face and then a second kick to the stomach.
With her off-hand, Zevara was reaching for a baton of her own. She had just drawn it and thrown it so it spun and thwocked into the forehead of a Drake, who dropped, when Jerci finally got one of their lanterns working.
“Stop, you idiots! It’s us and the Watch Captain!”
She shone a light over Zevara, who stood above the downed Gnoll, another [Junior Guardsman] lying on the floor, clutching at his helmet, and the third who was holding their jaw. Zevara froze, no longer fighting on instinct, and she saw a second and third Watch patrol running their way, answering the alarm whistles.
In fact, even the gate-guards shone down a [Light] spell on her as she closed her eyes. The little result of her patrol was three [Guards] down for the night, one with a mild concussion, and one very embarrassed Watch Captain.
——
“Injury of fellow members of the Watch. Drinking on duty, failure to use lanterns on patrol, deviation from patrol route, failure to apprehend criminal elements on patrol—at least seventeen cases of narcotics, high-stakes gambling without regulation, and…illicit knife-selling?”
At this last line, Watch Commander Venim peered up from the report with a confused expression, and Zevara, who’d been staring at a framed Magical Picture of his daughter, drew her eyes back down and spoke.
“I think that might have been a miscommunication with my patrol, Watch Commander. It was a Gnoll I encountered at the Steer—the bar we visited. He sells knives, some of which are probably banned, but I know he performs a number of illicit services. I’m told he has a shop these days. I knew him back when I was a regular guard.”
“I see. The report states that Junior Guardsman Jorrey saw a group wearing the Watch’s insignia and took you for imposters. There was a heist of the Jeweler Guild’s storefronts where the perpetrators escaped with fake uniforms at night. He rushed you—whereupon the incident occured.”
Venim was trying not to smile. Zevara was red under her scales as she held herself at full attention. She hadn’t had to report to a superior for nearly a decade, and she didn’t really enjoy the feeling, but someone had to be held accountable for last night, and that was her.
“That’s more or less correct, Watch Captain. He rushed me too fast to hear me shouting, and I reacted on reflex.”
“I see. Tell me, Zevara…why didn’t you make the report yourself?”
Venim was in his late thirties and still fit and capable, but more of a desk-Drake than an active [Guard]. He’d been one of Pallass’ Watch Captains assigned to each floor, but the opportunity to work in Liscor as a Watch Commander had drawn him to the city. It suited him; he had a comfortability with managing huge numbers of people, and he was good with people.
For instance, he used Zevara’s name in private, which she could never do, even with Beilmark while they were at work. Beilmark, who’d known her since Zevara was a rookie—heck, Beilmark had been a regular guardswoman at the time and taught Zevara tricks. Zevara tried to relax a bit.
“I, uh, thought it best the patrols write up the events as practice, Commander Venim. Someone should be held accountable. Even the Watch Captain.”
He nodded.
“Your entire record is consistent with that, Zevara. No one’s above the law—it’s an interpretation of our class that not even Pallass’ Watch always takes.”
He grimaced at that, then looked the report over and snorted.
“—But really. Am I going to charge you to the full extent of the law, without nuance?”
Her lips quirked.
“I should hope not, sir. It’d probably end up with three years in prison if you interpreted it as strictly as could be.”
Venim shoved the reports to one side. Then he leaned back in his chair, which she envied; it had one of those fancy reclinable bases, not like the hard chairs you had to rock back on one leg to make it happen.
Pallass furniture. Some [Engineer] had made them, and they were snazzy but too expensive for her to ever justify getting. Technically, she could have gotten one on the Watch’s budget, but for what? It was just one of the things that Venim got with his new role. He tried not to laugh again, then snrked into one claw.
“Forgive me. But it’s very funny. Half of the Watch who knows you is talking about the Watch Captain destroying some junior [Guards] for not doing their jobs right. You are a legend amongst the new recruits.”
“What’s the other half think?”
He chuckled.
“The other half are reminiscing about the ‘good old days’ when they walked dark and swapping stories about the Slayer and Sergeant Relc, among others. Tell me, did you really do that before? I’d heard of the practice in other cities, but I never dreamed of doing it myself.”
There was the difference between him and her. Zevara shifted; she was from a smaller city, and he was from Pallass. She nodded to the desk.
“Oh, yes, sir. It wasn’t a fast patrol, and we had to move slowly to avoid being ambushed, but we didn’t have more than a single lantern per patrol. It was…different times.”
“Ancestors. What a nightmare. Well, I’m sure it shook up the rookies, and your visit to the…Steer must have been interesting. A dive?”
“Hellhole bar.”
“Dead gods, and you walked in there alone? With rookies and a single regular [Guard] to watch your back?”
Venim’s brows shot up in genuine alarm. Zevara coughed.
“I knew the bartender, sir. He knows that if anything happened to us in there, Senior Guardsman—sorry, Sergeant Relc would come after him, personally. It was relatively safe.”
At this, Venim just sat back and gestured for her to sit. When she did, he leaned over the desk.
“You don’t have to call me ‘sir’, Zevara. I may be Watch Commander, but I respect your role as the prior sole Watch Captain of Liscor. You’ve had to show me around the city for months—and I’m hardly going to take you to task for doing the job, even if it led to a few rookies getting knocked around.”
He chuckled again.
“It’s good for them to realize the Watch Captains can hold their own. We go to the training courts to prove an example in Pallass, too, every other month. Rushing in like that would have gotten Junior Guardsman Jorrey hurt, so it’s just as well he ran into you instead of the Brothers of Serendipitous Meetings.”
“Those were the ones who impersonated the Watch and stole the jewels? Is there a lead on them?”
Zevara straightened, but Venim waved it away.
“Only suspicions. They’re annoyingly good at covering their tracks, as a major gang of the north would be. Watch Captain Ronss’ first task is going to be investigating the incident.”
Right, so it’s out of my territory now. Zevara leaned back.
“Of course, sir. Though the Brothers probably operate in the southwestern or northeast districts, if I had to guess. Too many Gnolls in southeast—if I can coordinate with Ronss—”
“We’ll see how he operates, but it’s a good test for his leadership, Zevara. Let’s go over the incident first, if I may.”
She sat up slightly and took a breath, nodding. Venim tapped the papers and scrawled something at the bottom, then stamped it.
“I…have formally reprimanded you for the incidents I consider unbecoming to a Watch Captain, namely, placing yourself in danger and the practicing of old Liscorian Watch methods in front of junior guards without proper education. With that, I am disciplining you with another week of leave this month and calling for Sergeant Relc to take on administrative shifts in your Watch House for the foreseeable future.”
He glanced up, and Zevara blinked at him. At first, she thought this was some devilish punishment he’d given her until she saw his slight smile and realized he didn’t conflate ‘Relc’ and ‘administration’ with instant disaster.
“What? Relc? Another week off? With respect, Venim, I’ve taken too many of those as it is!”
He stared at her, then picked out a paper from a file that had her name on it.
“Watch Captain, you took off two weeks last year.”
“Exactly, sir.”
“That would make it six weeks of leave you’ve taken across ten years, including time for two broken bones.”
“—That can’t be right. I’ve taken off plenty of time.”
Venim checked the circled numbers at the bottom of his page.
“You mean, days off work? No, you’ve clocked in a third of the days you should have been resting. I had a [Scribe] tabulate it all. True, some of those days were when Liscor was in crisis or under siege, but you have a work record that would earn you a year of break in Pallass. And I know I saw you in the Watch House on at least one of your days off.”
She shifted, uncomfortable.
“I was passing by, and one of the [Guards] had an incident with some Humans who came to the city, and it needed a deft touch—”
“Quite. The Council would approve any number of days off for you if I had to ask them, which I don’t, Zevara. Do you know what I see when I read this report?”
Venim tapped the papers, and she stared at him.
“That I’ve lost touch with the patrols and I need to get back to the basics?”
“No, that you’re so overworked that you don’t know what to do with your spare time, Watch Captain! It’s fine to take a patrol out or to focus on a problematic [Guard] or area of the city—but you took an Antinium patrol out and did a full circuit of eighty-two streets? In six hours?”
“They were…eager, Commander.”
Her feet still hurt from that. Venim gave Zevara a sharp, concerned gaze.
“You’re overworked, Captain Zevara. I think you just don’t feel it yet. I expected you to sleep your entire break, but I think you’re pushing too much. Sergeant Relc will take over a lot of the paperwork for you.”
“He’ll hate that. He’s not a great desk-Drake, Commander.”
The female Drake protested mildly, but Venim just held up a claw.
“He’s nearing his forties, isn’t he? Even a high-level [Warrior] slows down, and he is a [Watch Sergeant]. Leadership’s become him of late. He’s no longer partnered with the Slayer…”
Venim said that name with the faintest of shudders, and Zevara wished he’d gotten to know the Klbkch she had, not the fell legend Drakes in other cities thought of him—
“…and he teaches junior [Guards] amazingly well. Finding out if he can handle the administrative aspect of a position is vital. If he can, there’s a clear track from Sergeant to Watch Captain, in time. Not that I think we’ll have more than three Watch Captains on active duty—but replacements so you three can rotate out would bring us up to six or seven for the city even if we don’t expand further.”
Six or seven Watch Captains for Liscor? It made her head spin. Zevara tried not to laugh, and Venim raised his brows.
“Something funny, Zevara?”
She schooled her face hurriedly.
“Sorry, Commander. It’s just that Watch Captain and Relc in the same sentence would have been a joke last year.”
Venim shook his head.
“I don’t know the Gecko of Liscor from any moments prior to becoming Watch Commander, but I’ve heard the rumors, and I can see why that would be assumed. He’s done quite well in his new class.”
“Of course, I didn’t mean to impugn him in any way.”
Now, she felt like the ass, but Venim just gave her a nod that said he got it.
“I’ll keep an eye on him, and I’m sure you will. Let him take the work on, and we’ll see. Besides…it was recommended to me that he’d be surprisingly good as a leader.”
“By who, sir?”
“Lord Raithland.”
Zevara blinked, then nearly shot out of her chair.
“You spoke to—is he still trying to get into the Council meetings?”
The half-Giant who looked like an older version of Moore had appeared just after the Goblin King did, entering Liscor like a storm. Well, he’d blocked a dozen bombardment spells that had nearly hit the city, which had already made him something of a hero, but he’d also bouldered his way into an embassy—by force. Zevara had taken his side then, but he was highly suspicious to her. He stank of The Wandering Inn, but Venim just shrugged.
“He’s quite knowledgeable, and the Council’s heard him out. He’s been talking to Guildmasters, to the election candidates—I think he’s even trying to get on the ballots last-minute.”
“He’s not even a citizen of Liscor!”
“He could be named an honorary one, and he’s bought a property in the 3rd District. Don’t worry, Watch Captain. I hardly take orders from a foreign [Lord], but he had a number of ideas of how to modernize the city. He’s been to proper cities, like Pallass.”
Proper cities. That bugged her so much she forgot to press about the half-Giant. Zevara fidgeted, folded her arms, then uncrossed them.
“So you’re taking my work away?”
Venim corrected her.
“I’m giving you time to adjust to a proper workload, Zevara. By all means, take the day off if you run out of work to do and you have Sergeant Relc or another Senior Guard you trust in office. Once you adjust, I’m sure you’ll find you’re busy with all the things you couldn’t focus on while you were managing the entire city. Maintenance of uniforms, repairs to the Watch House, problematic areas in your district—then we’ll be here, arguing over budgets and trying to get the Assembly of Crafts—I mean, the Council to give us repair budgets.”
He smiled at her, anticipating those future encounters with a slight wince. Zevara just sat there, trying to imagine herself doing that.
“What about The Wandering Inn?”
That made Venim’s smile slip slightly, which she wished didn’t give her so much pleasure. He fussed with his papers.
“It seems relatively…stable at the moment. Distance has indeed kept it from affecting Liscor—the last event excluded, but no one was hurt or killed, and I suppose that’s what we can hope for. The Council has focused on it, and I’m in contact with the Walled Cities about the matter. But we’re letting it stay as its own problem unless it affects us, Watch Captain. The most I heard we were going to do with it was tax it. Isn’t that what you recommended?”
Oh, that sounded like a fun event for whatever [Tax Collector] was on the job. Zevara hesitated. She had told Venim that the inn was hard to control and often bit you if you poked it, but…there was a difference between leaving it alone and staying in touch with it.
He was the Watch Commander, though. And she realized that was it. He was the Watch Commander. She was Watch Captain Zevara, and if she wanted to call the shots, she really should have taken his job.
“Watch Commander, you have a meeting with the Council in fifteen. Should I signal you’ll be delayed?”
The door opened, and a receptionist, a young Gnoll, asked. Venim shook his head and glanced at Zevara.
“I should be right on time unless there was anything else, Watch Captain…?”
“No, Commander. Thank you for your time. I’ll try to relax, then.”
She stood and threw a salute, which he returned. No, Zevara didn’t want to be him; she’d seen a list of his meetings for the day, and he was more meeting than desk-Drake. But he did call the shots. She didn’t want all of Liscor to be her problem, though. She wanted to be the Watch Captain doing things. But now she was one of three, possibly seven.
She…Zevara walked out of Venim’s office as he advised her to get some rest and of course contact him with any issues. He was doing a good job, she thought. Not the job she would have done, but good.
And she…
She trailed out of the new Watch Headquarters, recently built by Antinium out of stone, not old wood polished with age, fortified like a keep, filled with as many administrative people as [Guards]. She stared at the building and then around at the city which, in the faint light of the rains, still bustled with sound and opportunity.
Her city.
Not her city. She felt old in it, out of place. Had Tekshia ever felt the same? Surely. Surely…but Zevara could adjust. She was young and still hip with the things. Is that what the children said? She swore she’d heard Erin saying that once.
What worried her was that perhaps she was delusional. Because despite the cleansing rain, the magical portal station being built in the plaza, the new faces—
It still felt dirty to her, down under it all.
Dirty. She ran her claws along the wall of the Watch Headquarters. Trying to pick some up on her nails. But all she got was clean water.
——
Having a day off always felt wrong to the Watch Captain. It was, in theory, something to rejoice over, but it messed with her, that break in her routine.
For Zevara, it was waking up in bed just before dawn and realizing she didn’t have to rush out the door to get to the Watch House and greet last night’s patrol. She lay in bed and slept another hour. Then woke up hungry.
“Food. Get to it, Guardswoman.”
That was how she motivated herself, snapping at herself as if she were both Watch Captain and [Guardswoman]. Zevara popped out of bed and stumbled into her kitchen wearing only a shift. She opened her food pantry and found a pouch of grains and some milk.
The pouch was empty of all but a scoop of very old oats. Zevara stared at it and recalled that she’d been unhappy about that of late. And there were no fruits in her cupboard. Or eggs. Or butter.
The milk had chunks in it. She closed the cupboard. Normally, she had a more fulfilling breakfast in the Watch House. A [Guard] would get assigned kitchen duties to whip something up for patrols, and you always knew who was the best cook…Zevara’s specialty was frying flatbread with butcher meat and hitting the entire thing with whatever spices were cheapest on Market Street.
Nothing for it; she’d have to treat herself to breakfast on the street. She got paid enough for that. The Watch Captain went for the door.
She tripped along the way.
The crash was her going head-over-heels—the swearing was because she’d tweaked her tail. The instrument of her devastation was the machine of death.
The bike.
It sat in her apartment, sticking out from the couch covered in articles of Zevara’s gear and clothing that she’d been meaning to wash or dry. Zevara stared at it as she untangled a chair from the damn spokes.
“Right. I forgot I had this thing.”
The bike. Kevin’s bike.
Well, not his bike, but one from Solar Cycles, brand new. Not the highest-end model, but she knew this thing was probably worth a lot of gold. He’d given it to her last winter. Before he died.
She’d been fully annoyed to find it on her doorstep one day, delivered from his shop. The Watch didn’t take bribes. But before she could throw it at him and warn him to stop running over her tail, he’d died.
She hadn’t had the heart to toss or donate it. The Watch should not take gifts, but from a dead man? Zevara stared at the bicycle and thought, well, to hells with it. It was probably faster than walking, and it was her day off.
——
Six minutes later, Zevara realized that learning how to ride a bicycle in the rain was not a great idea. Getting it down from her 2nd floor apartment via the narrow staircase had been hard enough; one of her Gnollish neighbors had given her a look as he let his kids out for the morning.
Once on the street, she’d had to consult the manual that had still been attached to the bicycle. Handily, this one was simple and told her how the thing operated. Just keep pedaling…put your foot down after braking to stay upright. And there was even a ‘tail holster’ so you didn’t run it over or tangle it in the wheel.
A few attempts at cycling on the wet street wasn’t fun, though. The bicycle had all-metal wheels covered with Wyvern leather, reinforced and enchanted by Pelt and Hedault, but it wasn’t great traction. Mostly, though…it was just too efficient.
“Whoa, whoa—argh!”
A few rotations of the wheels and she shot down the street, tried to brake, and hit the front brakes way too hard. So the bicycle’s frontal wheel halted, and the momentum catapulted her forwards, off the vehicle. Zevara landed on her front in the street, lay there for a second, and of course got on the bicycle again.
Because she’d be damned if this thing beat her. Six minutes later, Zevara was gingerly pedaling down the street, avoiding the pedestrians while keeping out of the way of wagons. Most people who saw her stared at the bicycle or the rather unkempt Watch Captain. Possibly they took her as some other Drake woman; out of uniform, she wasn’t the Zevara they knew.
Twice, Zevara nearly got in trouble with the law. She kept nearly running the traffic lights; she’d forgotten how many there were! And because her bicycle was classified as a vehicle, she had to remember the rules of the road.
Both times, the [Guard] just blew a whistle at her, and she stopped, turning her head and flushing bright red under her scales. Thankfully, no one recognized her in the rain, and Zevara pedaled on.
Breakfast. Life would be better with…
“What do you mean closed?”
Hamhock Bites was a local…food place. A delicatessen would be too grand a word for it. It served ham on bread. Not sandwiches—again, that was too fancy. But for a copper coin, you could fill half your stomach with something that was probably meat and probably bread.
Zevara had gone to it since she was a girl. Today, it was closed. The usual line of working-class Drakes and Gnolls was gone, and an apologetic Drake addressed her as he took the sign down.
“Sorry, Watch Captain. We got bought out. Anyways, it’s not like Hamhocks was doing well, not lately. Everyone wants a burger or pizza or something almost as cheap.”
“But who’d want to buy your shop?”
It was in the southwest district along one of the bigger streets, true, but…the Drake just laughed.
“Now that we’re next to 3rd District, there’s good money in places here. Me, I’m taking my money and buying my family a bigger home in the new areas. My boy’s a [Butcher], and he’s selling scrap meat for all the hot dogs and whatnot. I’ll help him with the business. I’d get you one of the old Hamhock day-old specials if I could, but I reckon poisoning the Watch Captain is a bad way to go out.”
He gave her a friendly nod. Zevara was about to ask who was buying him out when the Drake stepped off the little ladder, and someone came out with a new sign and hung it up above her head.
Mottleshell’s Pet Café. The Antinium holding the sign had a cat drawn on his shell. Zevara stared at him, then another Antinium with mossy green and grey on his shell, in a rather attractive pattern, came forwards.
“Hello, Watch Captain. I am Mottleshell, the new owner of this café. I would offer you delightful petting experiences and food, but I am sad to say that this is an Antinium-specialty store.”
She stared at him. The Drake gave her a meaningful gaze as a bunch of mewing cats and dogs followed the worker into the store. She saw the small store was being converted; it had tons of mats, and it seemed like you sat while animals crawled around you.
“Uh. What? Antinium-specialty? That’s not allowed.”
Species-exclusive establishments weren’t allowed in Liscor; there had been a huge fight back with the old Council over the entire matter. Mottleshell clarified.
“We will serve you if you wish, Watch Captain Zevara, but it will not be pleasant. Would you like a sample meal? On the house?”
“I’ll pay. I don’t take free gifts.”
Zevara went into the shop and found herself seated with a cat on her lap. She stared at the cat. The cat stared back. It expected some petting, so Zevara did her best; after a few moments, the cat hopped out of her lap, a commentary on how good she was at that.
The theory of Mottleshell’s café was a good one. In practice? It was spring in Liscor. The animals…were wet. They were also still cats and dogs. A puppy ran over Zevara’s lap, and she jumped; a cat horked up a hairball that one of the Antinium Workers hurried to clean up, but it wasn’t doing anything for her stomach. And all the pets seemed to think people were excellent towels.
Despite this, there was a line of Antinium waiting to get in. They didn’t mind the smell, and Zevara quickly realized why this shop was marketing itself as Antinium-specialty.
“Here is our menu, Watch Captain. It, um. It is very edible, except for the Antinium nutritional paste. Do not order that. Or the Shield Spider legs. Everything is boiled.”
Mottleshell handed her a menu, and Zevara read from it. If she’d thought Hamhocks was cheap…
Acid Fly Bowl (one serving) — 2 cp.
Antinium Nutritional Paste — Free with seating.
Shield Spider parts (two servings) — 1 cp.
Rats/pests (two servings, may not always be available) — 1 cp.
Monster Parts of the Day (one serving) — 1 cp.
“By…rats, do you mean something special?”
“No, we mean rats caught by [Ratcatchers], Watch Captain. Those that do not use poison sell them to us in bulk. Or roaches, spiders, the small ones, or—”
Zevara put down the menu.
“I see. And the monster parts?”
“Scraps from the dungeon that have been deemed edible, Watch Captain. Like caterpillars. Some parts of them are not edible.”
“…And you have Workers who pay for this?”
Mottleshell lowered his voice.
“If it is that or the nutritional paste, they will pay for it, Watch Captain.”
“I’m almost tempted to order the paste to see what it tastes like. Klbkch told me stories.”
She joked weakly, and all the Antinium turned and regarded her. Mottleshell shook his head slowly.
“I would not, Watch Captain. May I take your order?”
“Er, no thank you. Carry on. Thank you for letting me see what it’s like in here. How much do I owe…?”
She hadn’t sat long, so Mottleshell waved off her copper, which was the price of admission. His store was apparently a copper to sit for an hour with pets, and the food was optional. She didn’t see how you could run a store on these prices until she considered that since he lived in the Antinium Hive or potentially apartments for his people, and the food was free…if he was willing to eat it…
Antinium had money these days. Some kind of allowance from the Free Queen, but it wasn’t much. This was a store catering to them. Indeed, the line outside contained only two Painted Antinium; the rest were Workers or even Soldiers between shifts at their jobs. Each one seemed to have one or two copper coins at most. Was that per day or per week…?
They were vibrating with urgency to enter the store, and one stood paralyzed in the entry-way when they finally paid their copper coin to enter this fluffy, wet-furred paradise. Zevara watched until her growling stomach reminded her that she needed food as well. So back on her bike she went.
…No, wait. Someone had stolen it. She saw that in the brief moment she’d been inattentive, a young thief had done what any Liscorian would do in the old days and hopped on and begun pedaling madly away. The Antinium pointed to her urgently, but only a few were chasing; the rest didn’t want to lose their place in line.
Time was, a single Antinium would have scared anyone spitless so even if there was a pile of gold, no one would get near. Zevara sighed nostalgically and pointed at the thief’s back.
“[Freeze, Criminal].”
She watched with some satisfaction as the bike went over and a shout of pain came from the thief who’d tangled their tail in the wheel.
——
It wasn’t worth hauling the kid to the Watch House. The Watch did let people off with warnings, and when the frightened Drake had realized it was the Watch Captain he’d tried to steal from, he’d clearly envisioned himself behind bars for a year.
“Stop stealing bicycles, kid. Only Solar Cycles sells them, and any [Fence] in the city will rip you off for the trouble of riding one. Next time I see you stealing, I won’t be this nice.”
She advised the street kid. The Drake protested.
“Nuh, Watch Captain. There’s a market for them bicycle parts! You cut it up and sell them for one of them other bikes. Solar Cycles ain’t doing them alone.”
“What? That’s impossible. I know the maker—Selys told me how damn hard they are to make.”
All the gears and whatnot…the Drake boy edged back, clearly ready to run.
“You can get one from Pallass. Some [Smiths] make ‘em, and the House of El’s done some, and there’s plenty of bad ones. Made of wood and iron. Heavy as shit. Anything from Solar Cycles is worth lots.”
“Oh, so it’s a chop-shop job. You steal this, cut it up, and sell it, and someone’s riding on these wheels later?”
He nodded, then his eyes widened as Zevara recognized the scheme. She gave him a steady gaze.
“Well, now I know you were trying to make sensible coin off my bicycle, beat it. If my guards catch you running this scheme, you’ll be seeing me again.”
He made tracks. Zevara shook her head as she pedaled off in search of food. And now she had an expensive bicycle she had to watch. Not lock up; even if she had a chain and lock, someone would just cut it off in a second. That’s what she would have done.
“Damn Kevin—my tail!”
She’d forgotten the tail holster.
——
It was true there were more bicycles on the streets than her own. Zevara saw six in the time it took her to cross back eastwards, and only one was a Solar Cycles original. All of them gave her envious glances; theirs were far heavier-seeming vehicles made of materials cheaper than steel. Thick wood wheels, grinding gears—one Human looked like he was dying for every ten feet he moved, but his rolling bicycle—more like a cart with a gear system—did move.
Zevara nearly wiped out on the slick roads, but she had to grudgingly admit that her bicycle had decent traction and was certainly fast in the rain. But by now, she was so hungry that only the bicycle was enabling her to move anywhere at speed.
The problem was…everywhere was full! She’d thought to get food from a street vendor, but the first line had been fourteen people long. The next? Thirty.
“Hot dogs! Hot dogs with cheese fillings! Special Skill here!”
“Fish dogs! Made out of fish!”
“Corusdeer Burger? Anyone want—mayonnaise and ketchup on top!”
“Yellat pie! C’mon, who wants an old-fashioned Yellat pie?”
That had the least amount of customers, and it was cheap…but even Zevara wasn’t ready to pay for something that cheap. It was all Yellat: the simple vegetable made up the pie’s filling, and the skin did for the crust and top. Two coppers and you’d probably be full for most of the day, but your taste buds would not thank you.
It was nice to have more food and more high-quality products on the streets. Just—if she could eat it!
So many Humans and other people! The restaurants were full, the cafés were busy serving tea and coffee—and when Zevara did get an opening, she didn’t have anywhere to park her bicycle!
Addled, starving, there was only one place she could think to turn in her hour of need.
The Watch House! She was halfway into the barracks when they kicked her out.
“Wh—I’m just getting some food!”
“Can’t let you in, Watch Captain. Commander Venim’s orders. It’s your day off!”
An apologetic Guardswoman Jerci blocked Zevara, who was staring at some—
“Is that a tart? Egg and bacon?”
“Yep. Made it myself, Watch Captain.”
Jerci appeared quite proud. Zevara tried to edge past her.
“I’ll just get—come on, this isn’t me working. Just one would—hey! Hey!”
Even for the Watch Captain, dozens of hungry [Guards] were only too willing to shove her aside to get at the treats. With her slow damn bicycle, Zevara saw only crumbs of the tray. After wrestling with her pride, she didn’t ask Jerci to pick at the pan.
On the way out, Zevara swore she felt a tingle on her scales. She checked her fingers, and a ring she always wore gleamed a second—she turned her head and didn’t see anyone, but she swore she heard voices.
“Damn. Anti-appraisal. Do you think she’s actually not Level 40…?”
All Watch Captains got issued rings that denied [Appraisal] spells. Zevara snorted as she walked off. Who wouldn’t have one of those on all the time? She was sensible about always wearing her magical items.
Just…not buying cooking ingredients sometimes.
——
So this was how she died. Zevara was slowly cycling through Shivertail Plaza in the center of the city, wondering if the Council were meeting. They had free food. That vendor had only eighteen people…then she heard a familiar shout.
“Liscor, departing now! Remember, all Pallass-bound citizens, have your passport ready!”
The magic door. There was a line and even awnings set up in the center of the plaza, just off from the statue of Zel Shivertail. Zevara’s eyes snapped to the people filing through, and she had a thought.
These days, you went to other cities via The Wandering Inn. You had to pay a fee to get anywhere, and you’d wait with that Gnoll, Liska, as she sent you through to your destination. But getting to The Wandering Inn cost you nothing from Liscor.
And if there was anywhere in the world that wasn’t full-to-bursting during the breakfast rush hour…Zevara joined the line like a shot. She rolled her bicycle through the door, and a familiar Gnoll sitting on a couch glanced up.
“Oh, it’s you, Watch Captain. What’ve we done this time?”
Liska picked at her teeth, glaring at Zevara, and the Watch Captain cleared her throat.
“Nothing that I know of. Should I? I’m off-duty, and I actually came for breakfast…”
“Oh. Well, go on in. You can leave the bicycle in the hallway.”
“What about thieves?”
Liska gave Zevara a weird look as she closed the door with a wave of her paw and it clicked around to another dial.
“What about ‘em? They either have to pedal on the bridges or get past me.”
That wasn’t hugely reassuring given that Liska was splayed out on a worn couch with a bowl of crackers balanced on her stomach—but Zevara then recalled she’d been there when the Goblin King emerged. She had a…vibe to her that made Zevara think she was higher-level.
The Wandering Inn’s made a monster out of even Liska. Zevara supposed that it was safe enough, and she nodded to Liska. They really didn’t have a lot to say to each other, but they did know one another.
“Thank you. Er, good not to see you in my Watch House these days.”
That might have been a mistake to comment, as Liska’s brows snapped together, but then she just harrumphed.
“It’s not against the law to kiss people, is it?”
Zevara dodged the question like an [Acrobat]. Firstly, because she didn’t think Liska wanted people in line listening in, even if she was heated. Secondly, because that particular kiss was against the law…but it wasn’t one of the laws Zevara felt like prosecuting to the best of her ability. She cleared her throat.
“No, only throwing rocks, shouting curses in public, and poking a [Guardsman] excessively—I meant that as a compliment, my apologies. How’s, ah, Miss Eressi doing?”
Liska hesitated a touch too long and brushed at the crumbs on her fur.
“Good. She’s—we’re great. Look, I’m busy, are you gonna ask questions all day? You’re dripping on my floor. Someone’s gotta clean that.”
By ‘someone’ she meant an Antinium Soldier with a mop, who gave her a long stare. Liska held up a bowl.
“Goldbody, wanna snack?”
He brightened up and munched down a big handful, then mopped up the crumbs he’d scattered. Zevara backed away. If this worked, it worked. Certainly, Liska could one-woman an entire teleportation network by herself.
Though she had to have busybodies who didn’t like Antinium or whatnot. In fact, two came barrelling out of Pallass, pushing people trying to enter the City of Inventions aside.
“Hey, no cutting the line! [Get in Line]!”
Liska barked, and the duo paused. One held up a passport.
“Agents of Pallass. Priority to Liscor—”
“Priority my second tail! Eat shit and die! People exit, then you come in! And stop glaring at Goldbody or I’ll forbid entry into Liscor!”
They had given the Soldier dark looks, but Liska’s snapping made them hesitate. Zevara muttered to Liska as the Drake duo paused. Everyone else waiting in line eyed the Gnoll throwing around power.
“Can you do that?”
“Sure can. I’m the one of the only people who can use Erin’s Skill. Assign new teleportation spots and manipulate it. She put me in charge of this place, so until she comes back, even Lyonette can’t order me around!”
Liska wore a huge smile as she folded her arms, then her ears flattened.
“Don’t, uh, tell her I said that.”
The threat worked on the two huffy Drakes, who moved into line for Liscor. They did bully their way to the front, but their ‘priority’ only went that far.
Dead gods, agents of Pallass. Zevara disliked them on principle. She didn’t like officials in general. It was a bad bias, but it came from the previous Councils, who’d been largely self-serving and ineffectual. And her old Watch Captain.
It wasn’t even that she hated the agents for being agents—it was how they just used their power to cut a line and wanted special treatment. She’d waited in line! If it wasn’t an emergency, and she doubted it was, you shouldn’t be special even if you were an Eye of Pallass.
Her grumpy thoughts she kept to herself. Zevara let Liska get back to work, as the door to Pallass closed and it clicked to a new city. The Gnoll hollered at the people in line.
“Alright, everyone through to Celum! You lot wait for people to exit! Dead gods, my life is hard.”
There was a Gnoll who was committed to her job, albeit in a weird way. Zevara shook her head as she wheeled her bicycle into the hallway—or what remained of it—and stared at the blue bubble shielding the inn and common room from the rain.
“Ancestors.”
She’d seen the damage to the inn before, but this…she stepped into the inn, hesitant, and someone came up to her. A Human woman in a server’s uniform gave her a huge smile.
“Hello, Watch Captain. Are you searching for Miss Lyonette?”
“Er, no. Just for breakfast.”
“Wonderful. Please be seated here. And here is a menu.”
In short order, Zevara had a seat and took one look at the menu.
“Uh—a continental and coffee.”
She chose the first thing on the menu as her stomach screamed at her, and the server scribbled a note down on a piece of paper, strode over to the kitchen, and placed it on a board along the inside wall. Even this was different; Zevara saw the window was open to the kitchen, and someone grabbed the note, read it, and disappeared inside.
Exactly thirty-nine seconds later, a Goblin was holding a steaming platter of food and a coffee mug on a tray. Asgra put it on the table as Zevara blinked and then remembered how fast the inn could put out food thanks to Erin’s Skill.
“Thank you, er…Asgra?”
“You is welcome, Watch Captain. We not kill or blow anything up today. Yet.”
The Cave Goblin informed her, and Zevara realized most of the inn’s staff probably thought she was here because they were in trouble. She tried to explain she wasn’t here for anything but breakfast. Asgra just shrugged.
“You never here when things normal, Watch Captain. Why start today?”
On that reassuring note, she left Zevara to her food. The Watch Captain admitted she might have devoured her plate. The coffee filled her with energy, and she wondered why she didn’t eat here all the time.
The bill reminded her. Wincing, Zevara dug out several coppers—Lyonette tended to price everything at or just above market value, as opposed to Erin’s old prices, which had been good.
Temporarily food-coma-ed, Zevara realized that the inn was also getting back to work. She put her claws over her stomach and observed with that experience that came of being a Level 36 [Watch Captain of Integrity].
Yes, only Level 36. She hadn’t lied to Guardswoman Jerci. Of course, she hadn’t told the entire truth either. She was appropriately levelled for her time in Liscor in some senses.
She had two classes, not one. And both let her pick up on important bits of information, such as a weary and wet group of men and women sitting at one table.
“Turns out I hate the rain. I’ve been building up my house all spring, and every time I shift the house a bit, it’s all drenched.”
“You were warned, Shommel. You should have put up the frame first. Look at Leiithe and Dorkel’s home.”
The first speaker growled. He looked like a farmer.
“I don’t have that much free bone lying around! Nor am I that good with mass boneshaping. I’d give my best skeleton to have Elosaith’s [Adept Boneshaping] Skill.”
Zevara stared at them until it clicked—these were Rheirgest’s [Necromancers]! The one that the idiots had chased off their site near to Liscor. They were sitting over a breakfast much like hers, grousing.
“Now that we don’t have to hide things, Elosaith’s going for a mansion. Where’s he getting all the bones from?”
“[Butchers] in Liscor, he told me. The Princess is paying him—”
“I thought he was putting it all towards what we needed.”
“He’s putting a lot towards it. Good thing too, because food prices are bad even though it’s spring. I can’t buy much that’s not fish from Liscor for cheap.”
“Don’t go to Liscor. Go to Riverfarm. They’re flush with anything you can grow, though prices are up even there—makes me think we should get the undead to start farming as soon as the rains end. I’m told that once it recedes, it’s all fertile soil. Makes sense with the waters rushing in and out. Or we dredge enough land to farm even in the rains…we’d need a good barrier for the waters.”
“Do we have the mana to do that and build the new inn?”
“I do. This area’s rife with death magic. It’s keeping all the undead under control that takes the effort. And the coin to buy anything. Everything’s too damned expensive…and we can’t even get that free bread.”
They were sighing into their cups of tea, and Zevara felt like that was a refrain she’d heard from a lot of Liscorians. The price of things—no wonder Garry’s bread bakery was still much appreciated. Perhaps her experience trying to get a meal wasn’t just from rush hour.
Rheirgest, as an entire village of ostracized [Necromancers], would have a lot of trouble getting set up even without the rain. But it seemed like Zevara wasn’t the only person listening in—or feeling like changing things up today.
A Gnoll skated over, wearing a somewhat scruffy suit of all things. Ishkr approached the table with a refill of tea.
“Excuse me, deathfolk. Did I hear pricing is an issue in Liscor? We’ve been paying a bit more for ingredients, but we get ours from the source most times.”
The [Necromancers] greeted Ishkr and affirmed that yes, prices did suck.
“It’s wood as well as anything else. I’d almost think there’s a market in growing trees if you could get them to shoot up fast enough. There’s a tax on wood imported from Celum, so it’s just—more expensive than going out logging with a bunch of skeletons and coming back after a few days.”
Zevara supposed anything was more expensive than that. She sipped from her coffee as Ishkr hmmed. Then he nodded and snapped his fingers.
“I understand. I’ll confirm this with Lyonette and Elosaith, but I doubt she’ll object. What if we offered anyone from Rheirgest a 50% discount on anything bought from The Wandering Inn? You’re building the new one and are our closest and best customers outside of our regulars. Would that help?”
The group of villagers regarded each other and murmured. The first one, Shommel, asked Ishkr tentatively.
“Can the inn afford that? Between repairs, paying for the new inn—if it’s a strain, we’d rather not take the generous offer.”
Ishkr smiled ruefully.
“I think we can very much afford it, especially if it helps, Necromancer Shommel. Let me inform the staff.”
Well, that was something. Zevara eyed the menu surreptitiously and wondered if she could get in on that discount. It meant she’d suddenly be eating good, fast food every morning right here if so.
As soon as the thought crossed her head, Zevara overruled it with a mental sigh. No, you can’t do that, scales-for-brains. That would definitely compromise her relationship with the inn.
Life, for Zevara, was a battle of fighting her impulses, which were always to take shortcuts or accept compromises that would affect the integrity of what she did.
A [Watch Captain] had to be better. She had to not take bribes. She had to do things she didn’t agree with or want, even if they inconvenienced her, because the law demanded the person at the top to be beyond corruption. She’d seen how bad it got if that wasn’t so, and that was why she was so paranoid about this kind of thing.
She’d been…a worse [Guardswoman]. She still was that worse [Guardswoman]. That was why she was so vigilant, so concerned. The girl who’d stolen to survive, the Watch officer who’d known when to back off and avoid a fight, the imperfect Drake from the Watch’s older days, from Liscor’s dirtier times, was still right in her.
A Level 36 [Watch Captain of Integrity], you see. That was her. But also—
A Level 32 [Streetwise Guardswoman].
Two classes, both Level 30. Both of which seemed to level alternatively each time a disaster happened in Liscor. When she commanded the Watch, the [Watch Captain] levelled. When she was fighting Crelers and stomping them down, the [Guardswoman] gained a level.
She’d never, ever heard of someone having two classes in the same discipline like this. Not that Zevara talked about her dual-class condition, and the ring meant no one knew her class. She filed her reports with her [Watch Captain] class and level, so it was honest…to a point.
Zevara had thought about why she had two classes of the same nature, and there were reasons. Reasons, such as that the day she’d made Watch Captain, she’d gained [Rookie Watch Captain] as a class at Level 1 rather than consolidated her [Guardswoman] class as normal.
Because…she’d felt like it was her chance to be someone better than the [Guardswoman] she’d been. Something separate, something you had to live up to. The Watch Captain had to be full of integrity. The [Guardswoman] could be the one who wanted to have a drink in a hellhole pub and let young [Thieves] go. Someday, she hoped, the [Guardswoman] would vanish or become part of the [Watch Captain], and then she’d truly have earned her job. If she did better.
If she actually managed to keep her city safe. But she’d let Venim become Watch Commander, so maybe…
“Hey, can I get a Dragonbreath Red? On the rocks?”
Zevara flagged down Asgra, who gave her a weird look.
“Drake who doesn’t want Firebreath Whiskey? What this world coming to? What a Dragonbreath Red?”
“Look for the cheapest bottle you’ve got. That should be it.”
To her relief, the Cave Goblin only had skepticism about the Firebreath Whiskey thing, not the fact that the Watch Captain was drinking just after breakfast. Zevara tried not to lick her lips as she was served a generous cup of it.
Bad habits on her days off. Venim didn’t know better, but Zevara took one sip of her drink and sighed.
[Sharpwit Drinker].
Not the worst Skill you could get, but it encouraged you to have more drinks than was appropriate. It came of having a drink when you were on watch late at night and needed to steady your nerves. In her case, it just made her more receptive to little things, like someone tiptoeing up on her—she still lost her graces and higher-capacity thought. She thought like the streets.
She’d known one Senior Guardswoman who [Drank Her Breakfast] and who was deadlier in a fight the more she’d had. The Drake had still died in a full street brawl with some of Soot’s people. More drinks meant you made bad decisions.
Still. It tasted so good, even if Dragonbreath Red was more like food coloring mixed in a boot with fermented Yellats.
——
Lyonette came by soon enough; Zevara was eying another shot of Dragonbreath Red. The Watch Captain brightened when she saw her friend, but it seemed Lyonette had work. A group of Antinium wanted her—to sell something?
“Greetings, Miss Lyonette who is not a [Princess] nor a [Seductress]. We have a small sample of goods to offer you for potential sale in your inn.”
The mild hilarity of hearing how the Antinium addressed Lyonette aside—Zevara felt underfoot as Lyonette shot her an apologetic glare. She sat back down at the bar and nursed her drink. The [Princess] just didn’t have time to spare with her.
And Demsleth isn’t going to be here for several more days, so I really have to find something to do. Maybe I should try dating. Then again, I never seem to have luck there.
The gloomy Watch Captain tuned out Lyonette’s flustered interactions with the Antinium. Strange as it was to imagine her and Pawn—at least she’d found some romance in her life. Zevara had been trying to date Olesm, a junior co-worker, for years, if only hesitantly, then she’d had romantic feelings about her prisoner.
Never acted on them, which was good, but dead gods. She needed a fifth drink. Instead, Zevara coughed as Lyonette came over.
“I’ll just be one second, Zevara. It’s good to see you—what are you drinking?”
“Just a bit of Dragonbreath Red. Don’t rush on my account. I might be going out anyways.”
“Are you sure, Zevara? I could catch up just after this…so, um, Holytext, is it?”
“That is my name, Miss Lyonette the Seductress.”
The other two Antinium who’d come with the [Priest] on his sales pitch were poking him constantly, but he seemed to have a grudge against Lyonette. Zevara wondered if Pawn could have sent a better candidate—or if all the Painted Antinium were like this.
For her part, Lyonette wore a patient smile, but it seemed she had made her own peace with her past.
“If Pawn ever wants to know a female touch again, I suggest he rethink how he views past lovers, Holytext. But far be it from me to lecture the faithful on politeness, especially with a prospective business partner. May I see the goods?”
“…IamverysorryMissLyonette, here are the items we wish to offer.”
The Antinium were selling a hand-bound book—clearly made without experts in bookbinding—several scrolls of parchment, what looked like a bunch of children’s drawings in paint, and a pumpkin.
Zevara had to at least stay to get an explanation on this one. Lyonette eyed the selection and murmured.
“So your art from artists in the Antinium, I presume that’s crops from the fields—I would have thought pumpkins were out of season—and the book?”
“One of our [Farmers] has [Out of Season Crops], Miss Lyonette. This is our holy text. The Book of the Sky, as written by Pawn himself.”
“Oh dear. At least it’s not about Erin…I hope.”
Holytext had apparently hand-scribed this book himself.
“It only contains her in 24.8% of all sections. Please observe the wisdom within. We also have a very salacious book—”
“The one on sex. I know. And you want to sell them? At the inn?”
The Antinium shuffled their feet.
“Not many vendors are willing to take our goods, Miss Lyonette. Even Krshia Silverfang will not. Oh, and here are some of our scrolls that—ah! Holytext, your book!”
“Damn!”
The swearing from an Antinium of the cloth was followed by him snatching the book from Lyonette’s hands. One of the pages she was flipping through had been…glowing? Or the words on it were. Holytext grabbed it, then ripped it out! Lyonette and Zevara blinked as, with a sigh, he tossed it on the pile of scrolls.
“That keeps happening. It is very inconvenient, even if Pawn believes it is of great fiscal value.”
“Um. Excuse me, I think I need an explanation of what’s going on.”
Lyonette was massaging her temples. Holytext had a patient tone.
“It is very simple. Sometimes what we write, if it is holy or meaningful, it becomes the scroll-stuff. Which is very useful, but not if we wish to have full works of our book.”
“Which is why we should hire a [Scribe] or someone not you to write it, Holytext.”
One of the [Acolytes] said loudly. Holytext gripped his defaced book proudly.
“It is my name! You make them too! No one not faithful should write the word of Pawn or the Book of Solstice—”
Lyonette’s eyes narrowed, and Zevara half-turned.
“The what?”
“Nothing! It does not exist, and we would not know it if it did!”
The Antinium avoided looking at Lyonette, who leaned forwards.
“I think you’ve been speaking to someone I’d rather like to know. Zevara, I’m sorry, but this is rather complicated. First off, tell me who told you that, Holytext. Second—the scrolls. Third, and I hate to insult your work—a proper [Bookbinder] and [Scribe] would make that book far more impressive. Your writing is a bit lopsided—”
Holytext cried out.
“Priest Pawn was right, you do break hearts! Everything you say is hurtful!”
——
Fun as it was to watch Lyonette quiz Antinium, Zevara was a bit—okay, a lot sloshed, and she stepped out to pee. She was exiting the outhouse and wondering if she should rejoin the Lyonette inquisition or go on her merry way. Whatever that was.
She was walking back into the inn when someone brushed past her and called out.
“Kevin Randy! Hey, man, how’d it go at Imani’s?”
A young man with sandy black hair waved at Joseph as the [Football Coach] jogged over. He was red-eyed and rubbed at his face.
“Dude. I want to stop crying. It was rough, man. In a good way? She totally flipped out, obviously, and Palt…I think he took it real hard. He was trying not to cry himself, and then—dude.”
Zevara stopped, leaning against one wall as the world spun slightly. She didn’t know why, but there was something familiar about the young man she’d never met before. She eyed him. One of the Earthers, Erin’s people?
Everyone knew Joseph, Imani, Rose, and that other guy were all ‘Earthers’—if not precisely what. Zevara had her own levels of knowledge, and Relc knew more, she suspected. You didn’t stay at The Wandering Inn without picking up on that. A new one? She eyed Kevin Randy as he blew his nose with a handkerchief.
“I thought he’d be cursing you out. Because of, y’know, Erin? And Imani and her eye…”
Joseph hesitated, and the other young man just shook his head.
“At first, he thought it was a trick. Like, Erin had tricked everyone? He was super mad until Imani threatened to kick him out. Then he was all questions and suspicions, which is fair. But then he believed and…dude. Dude. He just turns to me and asks if I could bring Isceil back. Dead-on, man.”
“Fuck. Fuck, dude.”
“Yeah.”
The conversation made no sense to Zevara, and it had all the rhetorical level of, well, Rhata. But it meant something. She half-turned as the two walked by, and then the young man noticed her.
Kevin Randy froze, then leaned away so Joseph was between him and…Zevara tried not to watch him openly. She pretended to be drinking some water, and she activated a Skill. The [Guardswoman]’s.
[Long Ear]. She followed them as they entered the common room and took a seat, listening to the conversation as she ordered some water.
“Fuck, Joseph! That’s Zevara!”
“Oh shit, it is. Wait, you didn’t tell her?”
“Dude, how can I? She’s the law. The man. I know she’s on our side, but I’m trying to keep this secret!”
“It’s fucked up not to tell her.”
“I know, but—can you distract her? I can’t do this right now, man. I just spent like four hours crying with Imani.”
“Okay. Fine. Hey, Captain Zevara, how’s it going?”
Even without that as preface, Joseph approaching her with a huge smile on his face was as obvious as the sun. Zevara nodded to him as she stared at Kevin Randy’s back. Why did her heart hurt so much?
“Coach Joseph. How’s our team doing?”
“Our team? Great, great. We’re going to lose the next season, I think. The Flood Crabs are good, but Pallass’ team is ready to take them out, and Invrisil’s got a new Gold-ranker on their team. So…how’s the law stuff?”
She glanced down at her table, where an empty bottle of Dragonbreath Red and several cups showed Joseph how the day was going. He eyed her.
“Are you drinking on duty?”
“I’m on vacation. Want a drink?”
Too late, she remembered he was a reformed alcoholic as well. Joseph licked his lips.
“That’s really tempting. Sadly, I’ve got to keep it straight and narrow. I didn’t realize you drank like that.”
She offered him a faint smile, surprising even herself.
“Like you said, when I’m on duty or I know I have work, I can’t partake.”
“And that’s how you beat your, uh—”
“My penchant for drinks? Yes. Is it working for you?”
Joseph sat down and grimaced, forgetting for a moment he was supposed to be distracting her.
“I sound like such an old man, but yeah. It really does. I’ve gotta coach Ekirra and the kids, you know? I feel like if I went out there wasted I’d be the first in line to kick my ass.”
“That’s good of you. You never stop wanting it, though. It just gets easier not to if you keep it up.”
Joseph reached for a pitcher of water and poured himself a drink.
“Great, well, I really wanted to hear that. So…that’s all you’re doing on your day off?”
“I’ve got nothing else. I’m heading back into work tomorrow. Relc’s doing paperwork, so at least I get to see how that’s going.”
The [Football Coach] grinned at the thought.
“I heard him complaining about that last night. Though Ad—Arrema was telling him he’d be good at that.”
“Arrema? I don’t know who that is.”
“Oh, uh, someone new. We’ve gotten new people at the inn lately. You know how it is.”
Joseph visibly panicked, and Zevara sighed. That was the problem with Watch work. The guilty always looked damn guilty. Usually, when someone stole something, you got a truth stone, asked them on the spot whether they’d stolen it, and that was that. She couldn’t do it with Joseph, but—she leaned over the table.
“New people? Like that friend of yours, what’s his name? Randy? He seems familiar. Anything I should know?”
Joseph sat back and tried to laugh.
“What? No…I mean, uh, why do you say that?”
Zevara eyed the suddenly sweaty young man.
“Curiosity. So I won’t be needing to talk to him anytime soon?”
“Whaaaat? No! Say, is that bike in the hallway yours? I thought it was familiar! Kevin—er—Kevin got it for you after he ran your tail over like three times in three different cities, right?”
Kevin. Suddenly, Zevara sobered up and stopped having fun giving Joseph the third degree. She nodded shortly.
“He did. I should donate it, but I was having fun riding it around, and he’s…dead. It might be the first gift I keep. If that’s appropriate.”
Now, Joseph looked like he wanted to sink into the ground. He cast a glance at the stairs where Randy had vanished, cursing.
“That bastard—you doing good, Watch Captain?”
“I buried Guardsman Jeiss and other good [Guards] during the Solstice, Joseph. Tekshia Shivertail—I didn’t know Kevin that well. You were friends. Don’t worry about me.”
Now why did he seem so guilty about that? Joseph ducked his head. Then he focused on Zevara and took a breath.
“I, uh—I think Randy will have a word with you soon. He’s just really stretched out. Seriously. Say, do you know how to ride that bicycle?”
She raised her brows at him, amused.
“I got around.”
“Cool, cool. Gears and everything? Kevin says—said—that none of his clients ever figured out how fast the bicycles are. Bunch of rich people who can’t make it zoom.”
Zevara hesitated and tried not to reach for the manual.
“The what now?”
——
They said the safest and nicest roads on Izril were Drake trade roads, and it was probably true. They were actually paved, regularly patrolled, and wide. Wide enough for two wagons to rumble abreast on each side of the road at all times, and there were always people on them.
Drakes and, occasionally, Gnolls or other species watched as Joseph shot down the road at a speed only a Runner or someone on horseback could match. When he braked, it was so hard he nearly went over; he shouted as he did a front wheelie, then thunked back down. He turned and waved at Zevara, who jogged over.
“It goes that fast?”
She was astounded—but the flat roads outside Pallass with the fresh, dry spring air were so different from Liscor’s cobblestone streets. Joseph grinned.
“Well, I’ve got decent legs. But I bet you could hit that—or even faster! This isn’t like a regular bicycle, Kevin says. It already has amazing efficiency on the pedals, but you can keep cranking up the speed so long as your legs have strength. See?”
Because of Hedault’s enchantments, it was possible to switch the ‘gears’ via a lever on the bicycle which made it harder to pedal, but increased how much force each rotation added. Zevara tried it out as Joseph explained.
“He just figured out how to do the gears before the Winter Solstice. Well, I say tried, but he got help. [Blueprint: Gear System] or something like that. He showed me this trick. So you want to go fast and switch the gears up every three-to-four rotations. Once you hit max, you can fly on the open road. He reckons he passed forty miles per hour without Skills!”
He didn’t seem as affected by Kevin’s death after a few months, or perhaps he simply had too much practice. Zevara nodded as she tried to do what he’d shown her. Twice, she changed gears too fast and had to fix the chain, and another time—she had to swerve and crash into the grass, but she’d been speeding up when she nearly hit some pedestrians!
“This thing…takes a lot of effort!”
Zevara was over Level 30 in two [Warrior]-type classes, but she was amazed how hard she had to pedal. Joseph nodded.
“You won’t catch me going that fast. Even with [Metabolic Boost]—my legs are shot.”
He was wearing his football coach’s uniform and grinned at her as Zevara picked up her bike, growing more impressed with it despite the grass stains on her and her tweaked tail. Someone shouted as a carriage rumbled past.
“Coach Joseph! Coach Joseph!”
“Oh shit, fans.”
Joseph spun and waved, then grinned at a group of children screaming and waving at him. And the father, too. He hesitated, then pulled something out of his bag of holding.
“Cheer on Pallass’ Engineers! Here, a souvenir! [Pinpoint Shot]!”
Then he kicked the ball straight into the carriage in a gentle arc. Zevara blinked as a huge cheer erupted from the windows.
“That’s a good shot, even with that Skill. You have to account for motion and wind current…”
He winked at her.
“Lots of practice. Most of what I do is kicking the ball for people in practice. Everyone on my team is better than I am.”
“Well, you’re the [Coach]. Isn’t that like a [Captain]? I’m not expected to be a better fighter than my [Guards], like Relc or Klbkch.”
He seemed a lot…steadier than the drunk, miserable young man she vaguely recalled when he’d first come to Erin’s inn. He was watching her as she sat herself on the bicycle.
“You good, Watch Captain?”
“Hm? Of course. I’m just bored without a job to do, that’s all. I’m told mine will get easier soon. Perhaps I’ll find more work or—something.”
She’d have to fill her time. Training the recruits, since leading patrols seemed to be disastrous. She could take up cycling on her days off. It wouldn’t be bad to just…see more of Izril. From Pallass or Celum, she could go a good ways. Zevara sighed as she coughed up some more smoke, then nodded at Joseph.
“Thanks, Coach.”
He winced.
“Please don’t call me that, Captain. I’ll call you Zevara and you can never call me ‘Coach’ again. Deal?”
She grinned at him, surprising the young man.
“Very well. Some days, I still feel like I’m not fit to be called Watch Captain. As you were, Joseph.”
“I hope not.”
He put his hands in his pockets, and for some reason, she glanced back at him as she pedaled towards Pallass. That was the first and only thing Joseph had ever said that she was in complete, utter agreement with. Zevara raised a hand, and he nodded at her.
——
…Six minutes later, Joseph jogged back towards the gates.
“Hey, guys, guys! She’s with me! Sorry, Zevara.”
The Watch Captain was getting the third degree from the gate guards, who’d only been too happy to let her and Joseph out, but had demanded to see her passport and know why she was entering the Walled City.
She supposed being a famous [Coach] had a lot of privileges. Joseph hadn’t been on Pallass’ day-entry lists either. She nodded at him, embarrassed, as the [Guards] let her through.
She caught the door to Esthelm instead of Liscor. Zevara spent the rest of her day cycling up the road, then back when she realized Celum was way too far to try on the first day. By the time she got back to The Wandering Inn, her legs were shot from using new muscles, and she was exhausted.
Perfect. She scarfed a meal, then went for a long soak in the local bathhouses. Then she’d hit the hay and sleep. A day off destroyed. Finally, back to work. Perfect.
——
Zevara’s eyes focused on the sun as she stepped out of the bathhouse, hucking a used towel into the bin. There was a dim glow behind the rainclouds, true, but still bright enough to illuminate Liscor. The sun, which could not even charitably be described as ‘setting’.
It was 3 PM. Her bike ride, her visit to the inn, even her bath house visit had only managed to kill nine hours.
“Ancestors kill me.”
She was doomed. If she napped now, she’d be up all night! Woebegone, Zevara stood in the entrance to the bath house where attendants checked people in, unwilling to step out into the rain after she’d just gotten nice and dry.
It was one thing to bathe in the hot, scented baths, another to drench yourself in the cold rain. Belatedly, Zevara realized she’d shot herself in the foot. She’d taken an hour at most in the baths and considered that to be a lot of time because, well, she was operating like she was still working.
She should have stayed there until she was four hours in and her scales were thick from taking on water! Well, actually, that was a good way to develop scale problems, but still.
What do I do? I shouldn’t have had that damn drink! That also made it hard to do some things. Sweating her tail off and then having a hot bath probably also didn’t help.
Hydration. Zevara surreptitiously found a pitcher of water and poured herself a few cups. She drank, exhaling, and then checked a timepiece in the bath house.
3:02 PM.
If she slept at 8 PM, she could get ten full hours of sleep for duty tomorrow, start fresh and early. So she just had to kill 5 more hours. Dinner…well, she wasn’t that hungry.
What did she do? Zevara didn’t want to go back to the inn—she was too restless, and didn’t fit it like the regular guests. If not the inn, then…
Maybe go visit Bobble after all? That was a bad idea, even if he knew her. A lone [Guard] walking into the Steer was the beginning of a dark joke. And yet, it called to her.
Or perhaps the southwest district did? What was it? Zevara rubbed at her chin, and she could not escape it, but there was a feeling in the back of her mind. That of…of…
Of missing something. Of grime. Filthy water flashing by her claws. But was it the [Watch Captain] who felt it or the [Guardswoman]? Both?
The Drake stood, letting dripping water run down her claw, oblivious to the odd looks the customers in the bathhouse were giving her. Her mind was a jumble with the drink she’d had, restlessness, today and otherwise.
“Kevin. Poor Kevin. Soot is dead, and with him, old Liscor. And Kevin…”
Her mind kept going back to him because of the bike. Kevin was new Liscor. Technically Esthelm, but he was a new wave of change with his bicycles, annoying as they were. More than even Erin. If Soot was the old, Erin was the change, but Kevin had been that breaking edge of the wave. He would have understood this city. Zevara was the old, the fading—but why did she think she was still needed?
She might have stood there for the next 5 hours, just thinking, but something broke her out of her reverie. The rain stopped.
A family of five Gnolls running for the bathhouse halted. They, like Zevara, stared up incredulously. It wasn’t time for the rains to end! Was it a fluke, a rare moment of reprieve?
A glowing red shield of light covered the entire street as pedestrians halted and pointed. The rain sleeted off it, and Zevara blinked—then she heard laughter.
Two people exited the private bathing rooms, one of them giggling, the other laughing in a deep, familiar voice. She knew that voice. The huge Drake was arm-in-arm with an older woman, whose robes glittered with magic.
“Relc?”
The Senior Guardsman and Archmage Valeterisa had been in the bathhouse! It was Valeterisa whose magic casually covered the street. She floated out of the door as Relc collected a bag of holding from the awed attendants. He tipped them some coins as she floated down.
“I must go to dinner with Salamani, Relc. Grimalkin should make it—he may bring Lady Pryde. Do you wish to come?”
“Nah, I’m not one for all the [Mage] talk. No offense. And isn’t it in Invrisil?”
“Mm, it’s very technical, and we’re headhunting more [Mages]. There’s some drunk High Mage north of here. Another outcast of Wistram—I will see you tonight, then.”
Valeterisa winked in what Zevara thought might have been a suggestive manner, then turned red. She flew up and waved energetically at Relc, who waved back, grinning like a damn loon.
Relc and Valeterisa. The oddest match in the world. The Watch House hadn’t believed it for over a month. Even then, you forgot…Valeterisa flew skyward, and the bubble of her magic encased her. But the shield over the street did not.
She’d left it for Relc. Talk about a show of admiration.
He stood there, grinning, then glanced around and saw Zevara and jumped.
“Captain Z! I mean, uh, Zevara—I didn’t see you there!”
“Hello, Senior Guardsman—er, Relc.”
They were so awkward off-duty; Relc grinned, and Zevara shuffled her feet. She gestured lamely at the magical barrier.
“That’s a nice gift. Here I was worried about getting wet.”
“Ah, well, she likes this kind of thing. It’s really embarrassing. And everyone stares, but…that’s Valeterisa for you. Crazy she and I are still a thing, huh? I bet I wouldn’t last the month in the pool.”
He knew about the betting pool? That made Zevara feel bad for him. She frowned, and they walked out of the bathhouse, glancing up at the magical shields.
“I didn’t put money down. I just thought it was something that happened because of the inn.”
“Oh, definitely, the inn. Gotta thank Erin for that and the beach. No chance without that.”
Relc chuckled, and Zevara floundered a moment before exhaling some smoke.
“No—I meant I could see it, Relc. Maybe it was chance, but you’re our [Spearmaster]. If an Archmage was going to be interested in anyone, it would be someone of your level.”
The compliment made Relc turn, and he finally picked up what she was saying. To her surprise, he blushed, and his tail wagged a bit in the rain.
“Aw, Zevara. C’mon, you know she can do better.”
Didn’t a bunch of people die in her mansion because she didn’t even notice they were there or something? Still, Relc clearly thought the world of her, which made Zevara gloomy.
I wish Calruz were still here. But not as a prisoner. Damn it, does he get leave from the army? What am I thinking? It could never have worked.
But she had admired his honor, wounded or not. That unbreaking sense of honor—and guilt—was something that seemed cleaner than her own heart. Despite all his sins, she could never have believed he had done those heinous things by himself.
And yet, and yet—she and he could never walk Liscor’s streets together. So it hurt and smarted—especially when they came to the end of the street, and Relc actually groaned.
“Oh no, she didn’t. Valley…”
The next street had a barrier spell over it, and the next! She’d cast a rain barrier all the way back to the door to the inn!
I hate you so much. I envy you so much. Because she could say neither without being pathetic, Zevara cleared her throat.
“I’ll walk with you back to the inn. I don’t have much to do on my day off.”
The [Spearmaster] hesitated, and she raised an eyebrow. Relc coughed.
“I’m not really in a hurry to go back there. I’m only planning on dinner, if that. It’s—well, hard after the incident. I mean, you know what happened.”
“Sort of. Goblin King, that Goblin Lord…the spells hitting the inn and Liscor. But nothing more than that.”
She waited, and Relc just exhaled.
“Yeah. That’s enough. I can’t talk about the rest. You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”
“I’ve seen inn-events before. Even then?”
His face was shadowed.
“Even then. You missed the biggest one yet.”
After that, what could be said? They stood in uncomfortable silence. Zevara broke it the only way she knew: she jerked her head.
“Walk with me?”
“Sure.”
They headed into the rain, pulling hoods over their heads, abandoning Valeterisa’s gift to Relc. But they were Liscorians; the rain was second-nature, and they chatted as they walked down the sidewalks.
“I swore I heard someone say ‘Soot’. Was that you, Zevara?”
“Mm. Reminiscing.”
Relc spat to the side into a gutter.
“That’s for Soot and his gang.”
Zevara copied him, smiling faintly, but then she grew serious. She brushed at her neck spines, tangling with her hood, and glanced at the busy streets that had a Human nailing up a new sign. Another new shop?
“The city’s full of movement, Relc. All this gold and business. Did you know Hamhock’s closed? An Antinium bought the place.”
“Hamhocks? No! I liked that place! Cheapest ham in Liscor!”
Relc was as stricken as she was, which made Zevara feel instantly better. She told him about the pet cafe, and he shook his head.
“Those Antinium. I’m glad for them, even if I never got to give Valley a Hamhock original.”
“Good way to lose her.”
“Point! Hah. But I hope they’re okay. They’re sort of…gullible, you know?”
Zevara’s tail swished a serpentine trail in the water as she frowned.
“No. I mean, yes, but what are you referring to exactly?”
Relc shrugged, trying to word what he meant.
“They’re just…naive. I saw it with Klbkch all the time. Someone tells them something, they do it. Remember that idiot who went around snatching Antinium’s tools and they gave it to him because they thought he needed them?”
“Right, I remember. And no one paid attention until there were complaints about Antinium standing around with empty hands.”
Something was making Zevara’s neck spines itch. Yet she just walked with Relc—until she realized she was taking them to the southwestern district again. Relc peered around.
“Dicey streets for a fun walk, Captain. I heard you went to the Steer yesterday. With rookies?”
He gave her a reproachful look, and she flushed.
“It was safe. Bobble was at the bar or I’d have taken them out. He knows the score.”
“All it takes is one idiot and the Steer goes up faster than a Corusdeer’s horns…eh, you always had a better read on stuff like that than me. Feels like the old gangs aren’t as big as they used to be. Or is that me? We’re mostly dealing with petty crime, disputes, monsters. Not the Soot gang stuff.”
She thought about that as they walked past more dilapidated buildings clearly in the midst of renewal. There were a few tougher types walking down the street. Drakes and a Gnoll on the hunt for a mark, maybe. They took one look at Zevara and Relc and avoided the two. Even if they didn’t recognize either one, Relc seemed like trouble, former [Soldier] that he was.
Off-duty or not, the two members of the Watch eyed the group of four, and Zevara would have tailed them to make sure no one ran afoul of the lot. They appeared ready for a fight. Relc glanced at them and tilted his head. Zevara shrugged, and they turned around.
Not that they were ready for a scrap, but you had to at least walk a street or two, right? She kept her voice low as they tailed the group of four.
“I think the gangs are absorbing new blood. They’ll be active again soon. Everyone’s building up.”
“Greaaat. Well, that squares with what Valley is doing.”
“Isn’t she building a magical academy or something?”
Relc smiled. The group of four kept eying people, mostly Humans, and Zevara had a feeling they were searching for signs of gold. She had her sword and Relc, but she wished she had armor on. Ah, well. She was looking around for a loose cobblestone. Always nice to throw one if you had to scrap. Relc went to pull his spear out of his bag of holding, but thought better of it and pretended to be scuffing mud from his boots.
“It’s hush-hush. But she thinks around here is the place to be. It’s gonna be real big, Zevara. It’s all too technical for me. Leylines and protective spells—even compressed dimensions so they can make it bigger. They want to bind it in the middle of a mountain! I was asking about structural support, but they plan on making a reinforced cage—and the real academy’s inside. So it’s tough as hell. Apparently, Wistram was made on the same principles.”
It sounded like he was absorbing some arcane magic. Zevara grimaced.
“I hope they’re not planning on that much gold from Liscor. We can’t buy enough magic for an Archmage or an academy, Relc. They’d need to pull from all of Izril.”
“They will. But Valley was talking with some people who have inside knowledge. M—Lord Raithland.”
Zevara’s head snapped up, and she forgot about the quartet for a second.
“What’s he doing? I heard he was talking to the Council and maybe even trying to get elected.”
She was trying to read Relc’s face, but he was hard in this moment. The Drake hooked two thumb-claws in his belt.
“Yeah…he’d be doing that. He just told Valley that the city would have enough to sell. Put her onto a few items she’d want to buy herself. I was asking if things—aligned—with his vision of the future, but he says he found some of the stuff he knows will be big on the streets. Not sure what those are, though. You know [Mages] love their secrets. Weirdly, he was asking about you, Captain Z, and whether or not I wanted to stay as a [Guard].”
Oh, she didn’t like that. However, Zevara couldn’t ask about the mysterious half-Giant and whether he was really Moore’s uncle. The quartet of Drakes and one Gnoll had found a mark.
“Damn, [Trader].”
Some idiot had coin. A [Merchant], even? He had three bodyguards, but he was strolling down the street, glancing at Antinium. Zevara didn’t see more; she was focused on the quartet.
They saw money, and they could do math. It was four-on-four, but that was including the [Merchant].
I’d try to take out the three [Bodyguards] if I could swing first. She strode forward with Relc, ready to shout a warning. They had to wait for the four to attack first, then move fast…
But the moment to intervene never occurred. Just as one of the [Bodyguards] noticed the dangerous saunter of the four [Toughs], someone detached themselves from an alleyway and moved into the path of the four men.
Another fellow. With a hat. Instantly, Zevara and Relc recognized a Brother of Serendipitous Meetings. So did the [Toughs]. The man had a big bowler hat on, and he tipped it to the three Drakes and one Gnoll and made a light comment.
In the rain, he stood, and they—hesitated. They were glancing at the [Merchant], who strode on, cursing about the rain, and the [Bodyguards] eyed the man with the hat, but neither side engaged. The [Toughs] wanted to, but they looked at the Brother, at his hat—and then one cursed and stomped past him.
Away. The Brother ambled after them, but paused to tip his hat at the two Drakes.
“Evening, sir and miss! Hope you enjoy your walk, wet as it is. Don’t fret nor worry! This is a good, clean street!”
Then he was gone, whistling a tune that Zevara found slightly haunting. She hesitated and then realized she had a cobblestone in one hand. She tossed it down and let the rain clean her hands.
“Wow. I’ve never seen someone stop a fight without us like that. Did you see how he backed them off, Captain? Even we couldn’t do it that smooth.”
Relc frowned at the Brother’s back, and Zevara murmured.
“The Brothers of Serendipitous Meetings. They’re here in the city in force. Looks like the patrols’ reports are accurate. The local gangs don’t even mess with them.”
“That wasn’t even a gang, just four guys searching for a mark. Has word spread that fast?”
Relc didn’t have his ear to the ground. He probably had it on Valeterisa’s stomach. Zevara grimaced at him.
“Bobble was upset. I heard of a few fights when they came into the city. Quick and to the point. The Brothers already had a reputation for throwing down. The ones who went toe-to-toe with the Draugr didn’t hurt, and I think that reputation gets tested often.”
Relc whistled.
“That guy looked good enough to take those four out. I’ll give them that. So…when are we gonna smack this group?”
He punched a fist into his hand, grinning, and Zevara blew smoke out of her mouth as they turned and kept ambling the way they’d been going.
“It’s not high on my list, Relc.”
“Whaaa? Captain Zevara Sunderscale, backing out of taking on a gang?”
Relc’s jaw opened, and he gave her an incredulous expression, but he was mostly joking. He twitched his tail as another Brother strode on by—with some boards of wood of all things. He paused to hammer on a door.
“I’ve got a quick fix for that leak, Miss!”
They watched as the door opened and a flustered housewife let him in—he even had a hammer and nails. Zevara eyed Relc.
“Not high on the list. You ever see a gang who repairs leaks in roofs?”
“Could be an act.”
She nodded, allowing that.
“It could be, but I don’t get many complaints about them, Relc. And it’s complaints I listen to as the Watch. I’d rather take on the Switchknife Gang than the Brothers. They’re on my list, but low down, if that makes sense.”
“Hmm. I think I get it. They don’t rock things much, do they?”
That was Zevara’s internal criteria for trouble. The worst elements in a city were the ones who preyed on the innocent or those unable to defend themselves. She didn’t want any gangs in Liscor, but she knew she’d never stamp them out. Get rid of one and another came up like a mushroom. She bared her teeth.
“Switchknife robs people in alleys. The Brothers? Not nearly as bad or as fatal for civilians. Now, the moment I hear about them mugging someone, I’ll go after them. But it’s also about tactics. The Brothers are good fighters according to rumor. Have you seen them fight?”
“A few times. They are good.”
Relc’s face was shadowed a moment, and she knew it related to the inn. Zevara nodded tightly.
“I want them dead to rights, then. Solid offensive if I have to push it, that takes them out of the city or weakens them. Anything less and they send reinforcements in. That’s how big gangs work. But mostly…”
She glanced over her shoulder, and she wondered if that was a fluke or if they really did patrol their territory like the Watch. Relc murmured.
“I’ve only got so many fists to go around, and I’d rather punch someone than waste my time on those guys. That’s it, Zevara?”
The [Guardswoman] smiled at Relc.
“At least until they step out of line. Anyways, enough of that. Does Valeterisa always do that kind of magic for you? I heard she flew a lunch to you the other day.”
“Aw, Zevara. Are you gonna grill me on this too?”
“I’m the one asking questions, Relc. How serious is this?”
“You sound like her apprentice. We just—like each other, alright? She has good taste in tails. And maybe she uses magic a lot, but it’s really cool. We were going to do a bubble bath in the inn, but the last time her bubbles filled the entire room, and Lyonette got mad. But I tell you what, anti-gravity spells are super fun. Not just in general or in the bedroom—”
“Okay, you can stop talking.”
Despite that, she enjoyed her walk with Relc through the rain. He was indeed far steadier than the Senior Guardsman of a year or two ago. A [Guard] dating an Archmage. Her only point of dismay was, once, when they were eating dinner in The Wandering Inn and she saw him chatting with some of the [Necromancers] and it hit her.
He had adapted to the new Liscor.
It was she who was falling behind. On that unsettling note, Zevara finally grew tired enough to sleep. Work was far easier than all these odd thoughts.
——
Watch Captain Zevara got back to her job and was relieved for it. Even if, well, things were different.
When she got into work that morning, Relc was sitting in an office, quill in his clawed hand, writing.
She stared at him so long he looked up.
“Hey, Captain Zevara. I know, I know. This is weird for me too. But look on the bright side: Valeterisa gave me a quill that corrects my spelling. Or tries to.”
She walked over and saw his handwriting was more legible than normal—but the magical quill seemed to have been fighting a terrible battle already.
“Are you sure you can handle things?”
“Who, me? Sure. I got called into Venim’s office, and he walked me through everything yesterday. It’s just boring work, filling things out and making sure everything adds up.”
Zevara opened her mouth to tell him that he was taking the job lightly, but then she caught herself.
“It is sort of like that. It’s more about making sure there’s a record. Of everything.”
He had to double-check reports and sign off on requests for budgets. She was going to tell him to be careful, but Relc signed his name with a flourish on the sheets.
“I’ve had to do it as a desk-sergeant before, Captain. Don’t even worry, Venim’s getting his people to check this stuff over. See? I’m even checking it against our budget.”
He had a sheet and was adding up the expense requests. Like…he knew what he was doing. Zevara kept staring until she saw his tail twitching and him glancing up at her.
“Right, well, you seem to be doing a good job, Relc. Let me know if you have trouble.”
He gave her a thumbs up and a toothy grin.
“Will do, Captain! You’re supposed to not even touch the administrative paperwork—Venim says we might get you a helper anyways. What’re you going to do with all your time?”
“Take a nap for once?”
She was half-serious, but Relc and a passing [Guard] laughed like it was the most inconceivable thing in the world. Zevara went up to her office, and in defiance of Venim, she pulled out all the paperwork she could find.
“Right. Fewer responsibilities. Right.”
——
It wasn’t like there was no job to do as Watch Captain. Zevara did do some of it; she had to go downstairs when a fight started with some people being hauled in, she talked to a patrol that had messed up and arrested the wrong Gnoll, and she scrambled some [Guards] to deal with a traffic jam down one of the main streets.
It was just that she had run her Watch House well enough and she knew the job such that she could handle all of this, which gave her hours upon hours of time she had to fill where she’d usually be catching up on paperwork or dealing with three times as many problems. But since her area of operations had been cut to a literal fourth of what it had been…
Wait, did the math work like that? Zevara had been in charge of 3rd District and the old city. Her new area was one third of original Liscor, as Venim, Beilmark, and Ronss’ districts all took one section.
Was that really three times as many problems or close to four? Zevara was trying to do some math with a map and a few idle sums on a piece of paper just after 10 o’clock…which indicated how desperate she was already.
Relc poked his head out of his office as she gave up on the mathematics.
“Hey, Captain Zevara, you wanna take the day off like Venim said? Not much to do.”
“I’ve got plenty to do, Relc!”
She tried to find it, she really did. But checking the state of the [Guards]’ lockers, training recruits in the practice courts, inspecting the mess room’s cleanliness…it all gave Zevara the vibe of being a nitpicking control freak rather than actual work.
She might have to take the week off after all. But then what? Zevara was re-filing all her paperwork in a vain attempt to stay in-office a few more minutes. In truth, quitting now and going for a bike ride or finding something else to do vaguely appealed to her.
I could have another drink. Or see how Bobble’s doing. Play some dice games in the Steer for old time’s sake. Go shopping in Invrisil.
Clean my apartment.
She was so desperate not to do any of these things that Zevara almost cried when she found a piece of paper that was her salvation. She read it, then shot from her desk.
“Sergeant Relc, I’ve found it!”
She brandished the paper at him, and Relc blinked at it. He’d put two reading spectacles on the bridge of his snout.
“Oh, hey. The dead crimes list. You go, Watch Captain.”
Zevara had, in her hands, the ultimate resort of the Watch if they had nothing else to do. On this sheet, this very short sheet, was a list of all the issues that Senior Guards had found and deemed worthy of the Watch’s time…but couldn’t get to.
‘Who Killed Mr. Soot?’, for instance, or ‘Is There a Racoon on Hiscale Street?’. In truth, the dead crimes list was short and unimportant. If it mattered, it wasn’t on the list. Which would have hurt old Soot’s feelings, but the Watch hadn’t had the resources to look into his death given how mysterious it had been. Nevertheless, Zevara adjusted her armor and nodded to Relc.
“I’m going out to check the cases.”
“You want backup, Captain?”
She hesitated.
“Most of this isn’t worthy of another [Guard]’s time. Besides, I’m the Watch Captain. I don’t have a partner.”
Senior Guards always had partners. Relc frowned at her.
“If you’re doing the first one about Soot, you can’t go anywhere dangerous without a partner, Watch Captain. Those are your own rules.”
She cursed, knowing he was right.
“I’ll stick to safe streets, and I won’t interview any of the gangs. But I know just where to start…”
She rubbed her hands. It might not result in much aside from their own, personal satisfaction, but the Watch had to know how Soot had died! Conclusively! It might take months of interviews, solid work piecing together clues…she strode out the door and into the rain. A few seconds later, Relc reached for a parasol and handed it to Zevara without a word.
Only after she was gone did he start laughing and holding his aching sides. So did a bunch of [Guards] downstairs. It was really, really hard to not do that when she was around.
——
Watch Captain Zevara’s search into the death of Mister Soot led her straight to her first and only witness: Mrsha du Marquin. As the girl had been kidnapped by the Raskghar, Zevara had hopes Mrsha would shed some light onto their actions.
Mrsha was the first and only witness because she closed the entire case. She was licking her nose over breakfast, trying to get some yogurt off it.
Mister Soot? Nokha killed him. She and her Raskghar ate his bodyguards. And him. I thought you knew? Nokha’s dead now. Chieftain Torishi killed her.
“I, uh—what?”
Zevara lowered her notepad. Mrsha wiped at her nose with a napkin.
I saw it.
“You saw it? You were there, personally?”
Mrsha hesitated.
No…it’s very complex, Watch Captain, and I could explain it for like four hours with lots of tears, or you could believe me. I saw it. Nokha did it. Case closed.
The girl who had seen too much in the [Palace of Fates] was a mystery to Zevara, and while the Watch Captain didn’t know why Mrsha’s gaze was so unsettlingly vast, she did know that Mrsha’s comments were almost undeniably true. Lamely, she scribbled in her notepad.
“I, uh…well, I need proof about this.”
You could ask the Raskghar that Pallass took. Some of them probably knew Nokha did it, or even did the eating.
…Like that, the girl shot down even the hopes of Zevara stretching this one out. The Watch Captain put her head down on the table.
“I can make an inquiry into Pallass. It’ll take weeks, but they will get back to us. Thank you.”
You’re very welcome, Watch Captain. Want some yogurt? I’m banned from doing anything else cool. Mom’s outside screaming about the New Lands of Liscor.
“The what now?”
——
When Watch Captain Zevara went outside, she got a shock. Lyonette was outside, appearing rather—impressive? She seemed to draw the eye as she strode back and forth, pointing at what was indeed new land—and a bunch of undead at war with each other.
Half of Rheirgest was present, and the brawl between undead was strange. Half of them were just hauling dirt up and piling it on a huge, sodden length of earth that had expanded around the hill The Wandering Inn stood at. An entire football field’s worth of earth had been piled up, and more undead were working—even as skeletons attacked them!
Zevara didn’t get why until she saw a zombie, visibly rotting and half-eaten by fish, hauling dirt up and dropping it on the ground. Scotty the Skeleton tackled it with a knife in hand and sawed its head off, but more were coming.
“It’s a mass-animation spell, just like Miss Arrema said, Miss Lyonette! We’re trying to suppress them, but they just keep coming!”
Elosaith was shaking his head in awe. Lyonette pointed.
“And the trees?”
“Earth magic, nothing to do with us.”
Several small saplings were growing out of the ground! Zevara’s jaw dropped as Lyonette paced back and forth.
“This is—no, it’s not Erin’s fault. This is my fault. But how? All I said was…”
The [Princess] was having a Solstice event. You could just tell; Zevara eased her sword in its sheath, but it didn’t seem to be a bad one. Several guests were sipping drinks from the cover of the magical barrier. Even so, it was distressing Lyonette. She buried her head in her hands.
“Oh no. Oh no!”
“Oh yes!”
Elosaith actually jumped in the air and punched upwards. Lyonette covered her face as Zevara closed the door. She found Mrsha chowing down on more yogurt.
“Not going out there?”
Nope. I’m being good. Are you?
“It’s out of my jurisdiction.”
For some reason, that really hurt to say. Mrsha patted Zevara on the arm.
You did good, Watch Captain Zevara. But no one oversees the inn, I guess.
“It’s still technically part of Liscor. Someone should.”
Zevara muttered at the ground. In fact, she was thinking that some kind of powerful earth-and-death-magic conduit was just the sort of thing a Watch Captain should be part of. If only to report what it meant to the Council.
She was hurrying back outside as a Gnoll with brown fur leaned on the Chemath Marble and spoke to Lyonette.
“Yep, Ma. That here’s some good death magic alright. Reckon we’re oversaturated, yup, yup. Old Chemath Marble pyramid. I heard about it in my books. Valeterisa might know more, but this here’s a problem. Ptuy.”
She was putting on a very bad country accent as she spat on the ground. Lyonette was groaning.
“Can’t you disenchant it, Arrema?”
“Who, me? Do I look like an Archmage? It’s soaked up more magic than me, Grimalkin, and Valeterisa have put together!”
Arrema looked like she was rather enjoying this problem. Lyonette cursed.
“Well then, risk assessment. What are the effects?”
“Looks like the undead do what you say. And so do the Bush Shamblers.”
“But they—already do that?”
“Right, but now they’re being empowered, and you have control over lots of undead.”
“Why me?”
Everyone just gazed at her. The [Princess] was breathing hard, and she’d put her hair back in a bun today, and she had on her working apron—but the very air just screamed royalty at Zevara. Lyonette saw several rogue undead stop before her. They put down their piles of dirt and knelt.
“All hail Her Majesty, Queen of Skeletons!”
Arrema threw up her hands. Several Antinium and Rheirgest villagers did likewise.
“Hail! Hail! H—”
They were having too much fun with this. Zevara ducked back into the inn.
“It seems safe. The—friendly undead are dealing with the rogue ones. But I’m going to have to report this to Venim.”
She told the other guests, who were also assessing risk. Mrsha just finished her yogurt and pushed her bowl back with a sigh.
Poor Watch Commander Venim.
True, it was going to be his headache, which Zevara did find nice. She smiled at Mrsha reassuringly.
“He understands the inn enough, Mrsha. Don’t worry.”
The little girl raised her eyebrows at Zevara.
Hm? No, I meant I hope his fragile spirit can take living with The Wandering Inn. He’s a weak man. Too sparing with desserts by far. Would you serve dessert before dinner, Zevara?
The Watch Captain had no idea where this was coming from. She floundered.
“Uh, no? I think it’d ruin your appetite.”
Mrsha pointed her quill at Zevara.
That’s the Watch Captain integrity I admire. Oh, there goes more trouble.
Someone brushed past Zevara, wearing the badge of Liscor. She spun. A Drake? She glanced at Mrsha, who, again, uncharacteristically didn’t rise, and then hurried out after him.
If some idiot was going to start a fuss, she, Zevara, should get involved. So the Watch Captain put on her best ‘I am important’ Watch Captain stride. Besides, she was curious what all this was about.
“Lyonette, a w—”
The other official interrupted her the moment he strode out onto the sodden grass.
“Miss Marquin! Delighted to see you this fine morning! Geillsten, we’ve met before. I’m just here for the usual business, I hope I don’t take up any time.”
A Drake with a clipboard appeared in front of Zevara, and she halted. Geillsten? Why was that name so…Lyonette turned and blinked.
“Oh, hello, Zevara, Geillsten. I can assure you two, that this isn’t an issue that will bother—”
“That’s a matter for the Watch and Council, Miss Marquin. I’m just here in my capacity, I won’t interrupt the Watch Captain, but I did want to serve you notice I’ll be doing my calculations this morning. I hope to present you with the bill by evening, but you know it sometimes takes more time in extraordinary circumstances such as these.”
The Drake was very excited. Zevara slowed and peered at him, then remembered who he was. Lyonette frowned and then developed an expression of faint alarm.
“Wait. Aren’t you—”
“The [Tax Collector], yes! Highest-levelled in the city, which, aha, isn’t much, I know. But I have the ability to calculate what any property owes, and I’m just—whoops—excuse me.”
He was very excited and almost dropped the abacus he was pulling out. He caught it with shaking claws, and Lyonette turned pale.
Zevara was well familiar with guilty expressions, and Lyonette didn’t seem to have the expression of someone who couldn’t pay her yearly fee. Rather…she seemed to be more worried about what Geillsten was calculating.
“All the fees we owe, Master Geillsten? How would you calculate that, exactly?”
“Well, my Skill is very in-depth, Miss Lyonette, but we’d be checking income taken in against expenses—don’t worry, this is what a Skill is for! No receipts needed!”
“Absolutely, Master Geillsten, but I have a suspicion—what with all those armies we were serving, and you know, is there a way we can pay a set amount of taxes? Something highly—very—generous? There’s a max cap on taxes, aren’t there?”
The Drake laughed so hard he had trouble keeping hold of all his tools.
“A max cap on taxes, my word, Miss Lyonette! Ah, well, jokes aside, we do have programs that allow for a wealthier individual to pay certain capped amounts. It’s pre-calculated based on previous years of income—the Guilds take advantage of it, you know. The Council was trying to repeal the law, but that’s one of the election issues, I think.”
I bet the Guilds do. Zevara hadn’t known that, but it left a sour taste in her mouth. Lyonette wavered.
“We have significant tax incentives—”
Geillsten was almost ready. He had his quill in one hand, umbrella in the crook of his arm, and the abacus balanced on his forearm. He answered Lyonette as he dipped the quill in ink.
“Which I am going to calculate into your bill. We just need to do the math. If you’d stop suppressing my Skill with that aura, Miss Lyonette?”
His eyes glinted, and Zevara saw Lyonette glance at Arrema, who was just laughing softly as if she’d missed this, sadly and happily, then to Ushar, who took two steps to the side, and Lyonette exhaled.
“I do apologize, Master Geillsten. How’s this?”
He brightened up.
“Perfect, Miss Lyonette! And now, [Calcul—my eyes!”
The flash of light blinded him, and he dropped all his tools. Zevara spun as a Gnoll lowered his sunglasses. Then [Mathematician] Yelroan charged into Geillsten and knocked him down the hill. He snatched up the forms as Geillsten shouted.
“Wait! You can’t—this is assault on a [Tax Collector]! Help! H—”
Zevara saw Yelroan tear up two files before both Gnoll and Drake fell in the water. By the time the two came out, Arrema was on the ground, and Lyonette was adjusting her apron. She gave the wet Drake an apologetic smile.
“Thank you, Yelroan. As I was about to say, Master Geillsten?”
“What? Why are you stopping me from doing my duty? Watch Captain! Do you see this?”
She didn’t really like the Drake, who had called her in to enforce the law on people who simply couldn’t pay taxes one too many times. Still, Zevara faced Lyonette, who shot her an apologetic look.
“I see it, Master Geillsten. Lyonette, I am on duty. As Watch Captain of Liscor, I must insist you stop laying hands on our [Tax Collector].”
Lyonette gave her a familiar, sweet smile. Her blue eyes seemed to glow, and Zevara thought her voice seemed to shine.
“Of course, Watch Captain. But as a matter of fact, I must first inform you and Master Geillsten of a new development in The Wandering Inn.”
“Which is?”
Lyonette spread her arms like Pawn giving a benediction to his congregation.
“The Wandering Inn declares independence from Liscor. This area, including Rheirgest, is not part of the city’s jurisdiction.”
Zevara’s jaw dropped. Geillsten froze, scrabbling with his things.
“[Calculate—you can’t do that.”
“I just did.”
Lyonette folded her arms, and Arrema whooped. She beamed at the [Princess], who gave Zevara another abashed look.
“But why?”
Zevara felt hurt herself, and Lyonette replied slowly.
“Well—it’s not like the inn was ever truly part of Liscor, was it? It received patrols, and back then, it made sense. But we’re out of Watch jurisdiction these days. We trade with Liscor and will do so as long as relations are well, but we don’t need Liscor. In fact—I daresay Liscor has made it clear how it feels about the inn.”
Her eyes glinted as she surveyed the inn, which had been forced to relocate here for its own safety, and she nodded at Rheirgest’s folk.
“There is no rancor in it, but we will not be taxed, which I do confess is one of the main reasons I declared the inn’s separation. Please send for a [Diplomat] or the Council, Master Geillsten. If we need to re-ratify our agreements, we shall.”
“You—you can’t do that. Watch Captain, summon the Watch! They’re hoarding more gold than you or I can dream of! I don’t know how, but—”
The Drake was striding at Lyonette, furious now, ignoring Ushar and the other people blocking his way. But it was Lyonette whose voice pinned him in place.
“This is not part of your city, Master Geillsten. Turn around and come back with an army if you want to force me to do anything in my inn. But beware. I’ve heard there are Goblin Kings about.”
Her voice. It sent the Drake stumbling back as hard as if Yelroan had tackled him. Pale-faced, unable to even make a sound, he retreated away from the inn. Lyonette’s authority barred Geillsten from going to the magic door. Zevara herself had backed up several steps.
She’s levelled up. Her class has changed or she’s hit a capstone. That was the only explanation. Lyonette glanced at her, and the pressure on Zevara faded, but the [Princess] was becoming…
Like Erin. Zevara stood there, then turned.
“I’ll, uh—I’ll make sure Geillsten gets back in one piece.”
“Zevara, I only did this because I had to. You’re welcome here any time.”
Lyonette called at the Drake as Zevara stumbled down the hill, past the kneeling undead. Zevara turned and nodded.
“Just not as Watch Captain.”
She felt like the flash of guilt on Lyonette’s face was a tiny bit deserved. At least Mrsha, watching from one of the windows, gave her a tiny thumbs up.
Then Zevara ran after Geillsten before something ate him.
——
Watch Captain Zevara had an interview with Venim in his office half an hour later. The city hall was a flurry of activity, and he was checking his uniform.
“Anything else to report, Watch Captain?”
“Only that Miss Lyonette’s got some kind of authority Skill. It’ll make arguing with her difficult, and I wouldn’t make it a show of force.”
“We’re not doing a show of force, Watch Captain. How can we with a Named-rank adventurer as one of her guards?”
He grimaced, and she felt better about that. Venim sighed.
“The Council’s up in arms about it, but if she’s serious…short of calling the army in, I don’t think there’s a way to force the inn to come to terms. They have the door, and it can’t be stolen. High Command in Pallass might say to seize a building like that—”
“Not The Wandering Inn.”
“…No.”
He agreed after a pause and sighed. Venim snatched a water-resistance ring up.
“Well, I’m headed to the meeting now, Watch Captain. I hope the rest of your day is simpler. I’ll put the request in to Pallass about the Soot case myself. Good initiative, that.”
He didn’t want her going with—? Right, she was the Watch Captain and he was the commander, now. Zevara stepped out of his office as he rushed out, and that was that.
Of course, Relc had to ask about what was going on, and she shared the gossip with the Watch House and with the people she met through the rest of the day.
Those she met while investigating the other dead crime cases, that was. Sadly, nothing was as dramatic as the Soot case, and…well, most of them were either solved or the plaintiffs didn’t care.
——
“Turns out it was a giant rat.”
“Not a racoon?”
“Nope, giant rat. We should’ve known, really. Racoons? Around Liscor? A Gnoll came through the other month, doing repairs to the plumbing, and sniffed it out. Called for an exterminator she knew herself.”
That was a rather rich district of Drakes with old money in the northwestern district. Zevara wrote this down, and then the Drake peered at her.
“What’s this about that wretched inn withdrawing from Liscor? Good riddance, I say. But, uh, what about the magic door?”
——
“Oh, the theft. Well, it’s not important. I withdraw my complaint! What’s this about the inn? Is this an election issue?”
A rather nervous Drake boy ducked out of sight as his mother waved her hand airily, and Zevara crossed off the theft of jewelry from her list. Domestic issues…
——
By the end of the day, Zevara was footsore and had either cleared all the dead crimes reports or written up a full report to be followed up on by patrols when time allowed. She was almost ready to go back to the Watch House and call it a day when she saw a final item scribbled at the bottom of the list in Relc’s hand. He must have done it yesterday during her day off.
Zevara almost ignored it, then read the location and decided she could do one more.
‘Colecutlet Street. [Carpenter] Laikos. No one saw the [Thief] and it’s petty theft, but maybe good to look at?’
Petty theft? If it was just someone stealing a purse, not even the Watch could work miracles. Zevara had done well at not yelling at Relc so far, but if he sent her all the way there for nothing…
——
When she got there, she realized why Relc had deemed it worthy of her report. And then Zevara felt it. For the first time, a hint of that old grease sliding over filth.
“Carpenter Laikos? I’m searching for a Carpenter Laikos, please.”
It was a group of Drakes doing repair-work on buildings in the rain. They were cursing, re-tiling a bad section of roof that had collapsed, fast as they could, but when she said the name, they all stopped and peered at each other.
“He’s not here.”
“Is he off-duty or—”
A burly [Carpenter] jerked a thumb to the left.
“No, he doesn’t work with us. Down the street. That building.”
She trotted down the street, then stopped. Another building was being worked on, but this one was being carefully decommissioned. More [Carpenters] were prying nails out of the building, salvaging good wood and breaking away the stuff too rotted or ancient for use. But not…Drakes.
“Laikos?”
A Worker prying nails out of the floor glanced up, and the entire group went still. Then Zevara saw the Worker come over, nervous.
“This one is known as Laikos, Watch Captain. It is an Autonomous Worker.”
“And you were stolen from?”
The Worker’s antennae twitched.
“Y-yes, Watch Captain. This one reports a theft of its personal goods. It—it—reported theft to the Watch, but it was informed the theft was reported too late. That the goods were stolen. The matter has not yet been reported to the Hive.”
It was the first time that Zevara had ever interviewed an Antinium in matters related to a crime. Any crime. The only Antinium who broke the law were Aberrations, and Klbkch had killed those.
She defaulted to her training.
“Tell me the events as they happened, Carpenter Laikos. The theft. I’ll take notes, and…we’ll see what we can do. Though if it was just a [Pickpocket] or [Thief], the odds are the goods have already been sold.”
“Sold? But they were this Worker Laikos’ possessions.”
The Worker wasn’t like the Antinium that Zevara was used to these days. This was an old Antinium—one of the ones who never used ‘I’. She saw the other Workers were milling about around it, all unpainted.
“I’m sorry. We’ll try to get it back if you can tell me what happened.”
Laikos didn’t respond at first. Then it spoke, voice still wobbly.
“This one recalls work at 3:47 PM on Lundas. It had completed 1:47 units of time before retrieving a resupply of nails from the Carpenter’s Guild. When crossing the street, Worker Laikos was knocked down. Upon reclaiming bucket of nails and calculating lost inventory, it realized it had lost personal item. It observed the personal item in the hands of another. Inquiry was launched. Inquiry ignored. Worker Laikos requested personal item again, and the other left at speed. Worker Laikos returned to work. After 4:00 units of time, it reported to the Watch Patrol of the incident and was informed that the item was stolen. Theft had occurred. Worker Laikos returned to work for 2 more rotations until approached by Watch Captain Zevara.”
It was…an extremely specific description lacking in anything she could use.
“Can you tell me which street this was?”
“Colecutlet Street.”
“I see. So right down this one? What was lost, exactly?”
“Twenty-one nails were lost in the gutter as well as a hand-hammer.”
“I meant, what was stolen?”
“…A personal object.”
Laikos’ voice went very quiet, and Zevara saw all the Antinium around him pause. She hesitated and felt like she was asking something intrusive, so she lowered her voice and motioned him away from the others.
“I need to know what this object was, Carpenter. Can you tell me?”
He stared at his feet and spoke after a long, long pause.
“It was…a personal object in the shape of a humanoid with fur on it. One black eye in a button, the other one missing. The fur is half an inch thick and covers the humanoid except on the paws, of which there are five fingers and a central pad. There are two arms and one leg—”
She was writing all this down when Zevara stopped.
“You mean a little doll? A Gnoll?”
Laikos didn’t say anything. But Zevara had seen the dolls of that kind all over. One leg and missing an eye?
“Is it yours? Did you buy it?”
Laikos replied swiftly.
“Autonomous Workers are allowed to have a personal object. Objects discarded into bins or other receptacles are worthless and marked as disposable.”
“…Trash bins. You got it out of there.”
He was shaking.
“It is not theft or slavery. No ownership was claimed over—”
She almost smiled, but then she reached out and patted his shoulder.
“I’m not accusing you of theft or—slavery, Carpenter Laikos. No. I just wanted to know what it was. Picking a doll out of the trash isn’t theft. So it was yours. Why would anyone…steal it?”
“The object is of personal value to Worker Laikos. It is the sum total of Worker Laikos’ value.”
So everything in the world to you. But it made no sense. Zevara went back to questions.
“Okay, did you get a look at who took it? Was it a child? I need descriptions, ages.”
“The individual stood at five feet nine inches tall. They weighed approximately one hundred and sixty pounds—”
“No, no. I mean…well, that’s very helpful. What species?”
“Human.”
“Gender?”
“Female.”
“What were they wearing?”
“Cloth. Cotton.”
“…The color?”
“Blue.”
“Patterns?”
Then Laikos gave Zevara such a blank gaze she had to ask more questions until the Worker responded uncertainly.
“The…pattern…may have resembled that of rosewood crossgrain on the interior of the scarf worn. The hood was blue. The cloak was brown. The clothing was blue—”
“Plain blue?”
“Yes.”
Damn. That was the most nondescript clothing ever, and Zevara noted this down, from black, nondescript boots to blue clothing—wait, why the hell was she writing this down?
A Human woman had bumped into Laikos, taken his doll, and stared at it until he’d asked for it back. Whereupon they’d run off. He hadn’t reported this to the Watch until after he’d gotten off-duty, so the case was dead.
Beyond dead. Only the fact that it was an Antinium made this interesting. Zevara closed her notebook with a sigh.
“There’s no one who has a grudge against you, is there, Carpenter Laikos?”
“A grudge? For what act?”
“Any act. You don’t have anyone you’ve offended or…know any Humans?”
“This one knows Erin Solstice, who is the sky.”
Well, that answered that. This was a Worker who was uninteresting even by Antinium standards. One who had a doll…and who was still shaking.
“Will possession be recovered, Watch Captain? Thefts must be reported to the Free Queen or Prognugator. Guardsman Rillis issued statement that Watch would generate report for Carpenter Laikos to take.”
Rillis. She wasn’t familiar with the name, but he must have wanted to get someone else to do this report. Zevara sighed.
“I can write up a report myself, Laikos, but I have to be honest with you. I don’t think that your d—your personal possession will be recovered by the Watch. We don’t have any evidence to go off of. I’ll search, but—”
But it’s just a damn doll. One of thousands in the city, frankly. She almost offered to pay for another, but at her words, Laikos had gone still.
“Personal possession will not be recovered?”
“I’m sorry. We’ll look, but in a snatch and grab—this is a city of over a hundred thousand people. And they could have sold or hidden the item the moment they ran.”
It was the same thing she told other upset people. The Watch couldn’t work miracles. But it hurt when the Worker just peered at her. His doll…then she realized his trembling had stopped. He opened his mandibles and said.
“tHaT’s NOt faIR.”
Her blood ran cold. The familiar, fluttering notes of the Antinium’s voice were something that modern-day Liscorians wouldn’t associate with trouble. But Zevara had heard that voice so many times, especially when the Antinium had come to Liscor.
Aberration.
“mY poSSESsion. MiNE.”
Laikos wasn’t shaking. That was the uncanny part. Zevara lowered her notepad.
“Carpenter, I’m going to try to get it back. But I’m telling you—”
Her hand inched closer to her sword hilt. She’d seen Antinium going Aberration when Klbkch had first come to the city. Seen what they’d done to groups of Drakes. Even Watch patrols who tried to stop a single enraged Worker. Not now.
“wHy mE?”
Laikos was staring at his four hands, opening and closing. Zevara felt cold, then hot, burning in her lungs.
“Carpenter Laikos, remain calm. Just—”
What she might have done next, she didn’t know. The Worker was twitching, and she was reaching for her whistle with her other claw. But then there was a surge of motion from the side. Someone slammed into Zevara, and she rolled over with a shout.
She was up with sword in hand, and her lungs ignited with flames. Keep it off her! He’d rip her apart if they got—
Workers. The carpentry team was covering Laikos as he flailed, eight Antinium on top of him like a gathering of beetles. Eight more were between her and Laikos, pushing.
“Watch Captain must leave.”
“Watch Captain misheard.”
“Wh—what? He’s gone Aberration. We have to call—”
Call who? Klbkch wasn’t here. But the Workers were shoving her hard. Not violently, but pressing her back.
“No Aberration. Mistake. Mistake.”
“Worker Laikos resting.”
“Misheard.”
Then she got what they were saying. They pushed Zevara onto the street, and she saw the other Workers practically carrying Laikos back, one of them with a hand over his mandibles. What the—?
“Watch Captain, everything alright?”
The Drakes had heard her shout, but when they came over, the Workers vanished into the building. The sounds of them hammering and pulling the building apart filled the air, and Zevara blinked. If she hadn’t had her own memory, she’d have never guessed Laikos had vanished or that there had been a fight.
“Everything’s fine. I just, uh, tripped on some wood. Thanks.”
She reassured the [Carpenters], who walked off after one spat in the direction of the Antinium.
“Job-stealing bastards.”
Zevara supposed that was true, but she’d heard that [Carpenters] hated deconstruction work. It paid almost nothing for a lot of effort. She stood in the street, then came to a swift decision.
The Watch Captain set off after the Antinium carrying Laikos. It wasn’t hard; fast as they moved, they were still a group of Antinium on foot. She saw them moving down the street and noticed Laikos was on the ground, now. He was being moved in a huge huddle towards the Hive.
No one noticed. People just avoided the Antinium or walked past them. They were just one more group of Antinium in a city filled with them.
She couldn’t follow them into the Hive, but she saw several glance back at her at the entrance. Then Laikos was gone, and Zevara wouldn’t have been able to pick him out from the other Workers leaving the Hive.
“What the hell is going on?”
Then she realized she was muddy from rolling in the streets. Zevara blinked and then shook herself. It was getting late; it was past clocking out time anyways. So, after a moment’s thought, she did two things.
First, she went to a bathhouse and gave herself a quick scrub down. Then she went back to the Watch House and began to file the report.
——
“Why steal from a Worker?”
Zevara spoke to her feet. She blew out some smoke from her lips and felt like she was back in the same place she’d been when she’d been reminiscing about Mister Soot.
Only this time, she was thinking about what to do. Laikos. There were two issues. The first was the theft—the second was the Aberration thing. She went over the theft briefly.
“It was probably malice. Someone saw what he held…knocked him down, realized it was a doll, and ran off. What else could it be? They used to attack lone Workers in the streets. Kill them. It could be that—but why?”
She shook her head.
“I have no motive, no identity, and certainly no hope of even finding the [Fence]. It’s a damn doll. Ragged and unsellable. So that leaves Laikos. He went Aberration.”
She was sure of it. The other Workers had covered for him. Why? No, that wasn’t the question. What should she do as Watch Captain?
“I have to call this in. But to whom? Klbkch…so that would mean…who’s the new Prognugator? Yellow Splatters is my liaison; I’ll tell him.”
There was only one way you dealt with Aberrations. That made her stomach twist. It hadn’t ever before, but that poor Antinium had been upset over his doll.
Upset over his doll? Was that what had made him go crazy? Would you kill someone for having a fit over losing the one thing you ever—
No, Aberration was different. Klbkch said so. Wasn’t it? He didn’t attack me.
He might have, in a second.
What are the Workers going to do? Hide him? Kill him themselves? No, if they were, they’d have done it.
I’m the Watch Captain. I have to tell the Antinium.
Zevara was writing her report slowly. It felt…wrong. Like it had when she’d known she should execute Calruz and she’d had so little proof. Her knowledge of the law told her one thing; her instincts told her another.
[Watch Captain] vs [Guardswoman]. Lawbringer vs the woman who had to enforce it on those streets.
But mostly, Zevara felt it. In her bones, that smell of muck and urine mixing with water. The rains pattering down felt filthier, stained by the city.
Something smelled rotten in her city. But she didn’t have enough clues.
There was a rap at her door. Zevara glanced up.
“Watch Captain, someone to see you. They say it’s urgent. Should I send ‘em off?”
The Desk Sergeant asked; Relc was long off-duty. Zevara almost said ‘yes’, but shoved the report back. She put her feet down.
“Go ahead and send them in.”
She was fiddling with a desk lamp, and the glow from her throat was the only light in the office except for the faint glimmer coming from the windows. Rain made the city’s lights streaks of wobbling yellow.
That was when the dame walked into Zevara’s office. Dame, as in ‘female’, not ‘Dame Knight’. To be more specific, dame referred to an elderly or at least mature woman.
At first, Zevara didn’t understand what she was seeing or why the word popped into her head. It was something…about the way the Antinium Worker leaned against the door. Leaned against it. And then how she walked into the room.
You defaulted to ‘he’ with Workers, but despite the same loincloth that most normal Antinium wore, this one gave Zevara a distinctly different energy.
“I—good evening. Can I help you—miss?”
The Antinium Worker didn’t respond for a long moment, and instead, she surveyed Zevara’s room with distinct curiosity. Two hands on her hips, another touching her brows, the last holding a small envelope. When she did speak, Zevara got another surprise. Her voice was subtly different from the generic click-tones of Antinium.
“I believe we can help each other, Watch Captain Zevara. My name is Noiraid. I was sent for after Laikos’ work group brought him into the Hive.”
Zevara actually rubbed at one earhole. She felt like she was having a fever-dream. Maybe she was overworking and Venim was right…because that was the most non-Antinium name she’d ever heard. Like Laikos, actually.
“Well, Worker Noiraid, I trust that his—condition was reported to the Free Queen? I was just filing a report on the matter, actually. And the theft.”
The Worker focused on the paper on the desk and, without asking for it, snatched it up and read.
“Hey! That’s Watch material—”
Zevara shot up, angry, broken out of her stupefaction, but Noiraid just put the sheet down.
“I see. I have never interacted with the Watch before. Forgive me, Watch Captain. I regret any ill-feeling my actions have caused. May I request an alteration to your report?”
“An alteration? Of what kind? If I’ve gotten the facts wrong, I can correct them…”
Noiraid leaned over the desk, and Zevara blinked and sat back in her chair. The Antinium had a husky voice, somehow.
“I would like you to amend the report to state that Carpenter Laikos did not become Aberration. And that you do not inform Prognugator Pawn or Yellow Splatters about the incident. Or the Free Queen.”
A drop of ink fell from the quill onto the page. Zevara blotted at it.
“—What?”
“I shall rephrase. The event did not occur. You need not file the report at all.”
“I—absolutely have to. If there’s an Aberration running around in the Hive or on Liscor’s streets—”
“There is no Aberration, and there will not be, Watch Captain. That is why I request the report altered or withdrawn.”
This time, Noiraid leaned over the desk so much she almost fell over, so she caught herself by sitting on it by accident instead. She slid off it and regarded Zevara.
The Watch Captain blew some smoke out of her mouth in pure incredulity. She’d been asked to break the law before, but never just like this.
“You must be joking. I heard him myself.”
Noiraid went to the window and stared out of it, crossing her hands to rest behind her back.
“What you heard may have sounded like an Aberration, Watch Captain, but tomorrow, Carpenter Laikos will go back to work. He will not be an Aberration. If no one informs the Free Queen, there will be no issue.”
“You’re going to cure him? Is that—is that possible? Or are you just hiding the—symptoms?”
“Is knowing mandatory, Watch Captain?”
Noiraid turned her head, and Zevara got angry. Just a bit. Mostly, she was amazed an Antinium could act like this. Even Painted Antinium weren’t like this.
Bird? But this was different from Bird.
The dame regarded Zevara with what almost seemed like amused insolence, and the Watch Captain snapped, exhaling more smoke and a few sparks. She coughed into a fist.
“This is my city, and an Aberration running around is a threat to everyone. I want to know how you’re positive Worker Laikos won’t up and kill anyone—no, I want to know who you are as well.”
Small wonder she’d been let into the office. A random civilian didn’t just get the Watch Captain, but an Antinium…yes, they’d be given access. Noiraid pulled something out of the envelope. It was a tiny piece of candy. She stuck it in her mandibles and transferred it into her mouth, where Zevara got the impression she was sucking on it.
“Aberration is a word for Antinium who disobey, Watch Captain. Who get angry. So angry they kill. Otherwise, they obey. They obey and obey until they’re so angry they would rather die and kill everything than obey. There’s only Aberration and non-Aberration. If an Aberration doesn’t hurt anyone…is it still an Aberration when it is no longer angry?”
“Wh—you mean they’re just angry? That’s insane! I’ve seen them take on entire Watch patrols!”
“Very angry, Watch Captain.”
“But if they can just cool down—why the hell did Klbkch tell me the only way to deal with them was to kill them?”
Zevara stared at Noiraid, who shrugged. Another non-Antinium gesture. She brushed at one antenna with a hand, like she might do with hair.
“An Antinium who disobeys once is already a failure. Klbkch needs no failures.”
This was already shaking Zevara, but Noiraid’s next words shook her more.
“If you report Carpenter Laikos is an Aberration, he will be killed unless Pawn can cure him. And Pawn cannot cure every ‘Aberration’. If you let him go back to work, he will not become an Aberration again.”
“How can you guarantee that?”
“I will watch him. And his fellow Workers shall observe as well.”
“And that’s enough?”
“No Antinium has become an Aberration that I observe.”
The implication being that this Antinium…had met other Aberrations and calmed them down? She made a faint krsching sound and then again, and Zevara realized she was coughing. The Watch Captain cast around, then poured some water into a cup.
“Here—”
“Thank you, Watch Captain.”
Now, Zevara was leaning over the desk as she gestured to a seat. Noiraid sat and crossed one leg. Again, Zevara thought—‘female’. She tried out her hunch, deliberately.
“So Mister Noiraid—”
The Worker shifted, and Zevara eyed her.
“You’re a she?”
“Was it not obvious? Or were you attempting to insult me?”
The Worker seemed displeased, and Zevara coughed, embarrassed.
“I’m, uh, sorry. What’s your role in all this?”
The Worker studied Zevara’s desk. She pointed at something.
“May I try that?”
Zevara had lozenges for her own throat problems. She doubted they tasted good, but she pushed them over, and Noiraid popped one into her mouth. Apparently anything tasted better than what Antinium ate, and she seemed to enjoy it. She spoke.
“You do not know me, Watch Captain. You are not supposed to. Pawn does not know me. Nor does Yellow Splatters, Belgrade, or the Free Queen. Garry might, but no one knows what Garry knows. I do not work shifts. When Workers or Soldiers have problems in the Free Hive, I am sent for.”
Zevara’s first thought was—she’s a problem-solver. A fixer. An [Enforcer]. But then she almost laughed that away. That was as if there were crime in…
She narrowed her eyes.
“You solve issues…for them? Why? Isn’t Pawn the leader of the Painted Antinium? Doesn’t he help everyone?”
She’d heard from Erin and Lyonette what good he did, but Noiraid seemed to disagree. She stared at the faint light Zevara had lit in her lamp.
“Pawn is the [Priest] of the Sky. All those he paints with his colors are blessed and special and belong in Heaven. There are not enough colors for the Hive. There never will be. If things do not go to Pawn, they go to the Free Queen. She solves things quickly. Workers and Soldiers…fear bringing problems to Pawn and the Free Queen.”
“Why? The Free Queen I get, but why—Pawn?”
She’d met him. The gentlest Antinium she’d ever known. Noiraid’s antennae crooked slightly downwards like brows.
“Because if they tell Pawn they have made a mistake, he may not choose them to become Painted Antinium. Workers and Soldiers are afraid of that. They are afraid of dying if the Free Queen decides they are flawed. They can risk telling Pawn—or tell me. And I will fix it.”
“For a favor. Or money.”
Now, Zevara was figuring out Noiraid. Well, well, well. It seemed that Pawn and the other Antinium had created something in their Hives that she hadn’t expected. Hadn’t she seen a report about Antinium slacking on the job the other day? She’d dismissed it as nonsense.
Noiraid smiled.
“Antinium are paid. Some of them. Others can take over a shift. Or acquire objects.”
“You’re telling me, a Watch Captain, that you get paid to solve small crimes in the Hive. And you think I’ll be accepting of all this?”
Zevara was actually quite amused, but she kept her face and voice serious. In response, Noiraid just made a fluttering sound with her throat.
“I am informing you because there is no other choice, Watch Captain. You may inform the Free Queen and Pawn of Carpenter Laikos and myself. In which case, we will die or be dealt with. You have left the gates closed on Goblins. I hope it haunts you, if you do.”
That shot came out of nowhere and hit Zevara so hard she leaned back in her chair.
“…You’ve been around since then? Who…are you? When did you appear?”
She had a vague thought this might be one of the mysterious Antinium that Lyonette had been asking about, but Noiraid shook her head.
“I have lived one and a quarter years. I am…what you would call one of Bird’s Antinium. The free among the Free Antinium.”
Bird’s Antinium? She had Antinium? Pieces were clicking together. Zevara frowned.
“Wouldn’t you be at the inn then?”
“Antinium have to work, Watch Captain.”
Or make a profit.
“And Bird knows about you?”
“Who knows what Bird knows?”
Fair enough. Zevara refocused on the task at hand, or rather, she suspected, offer.
“Alright, say I don’t file a report about Laikos. That’s against my code of conduct, but I have you on record as saying that ‘Aberration’ isn’t what I think it is. In which case, it is a miscarriage of justice to…do as we have done. I have questions about that, but I’m not going to just trust you on your word. How are you, Noiraid, going to fix this issue?”
“Worker Laikos will return to work tomorrow. He will perform his duties.”
“He lost his doll. The one thing in the world that matters to him.”
“Yes. Will you reclaim it, Watch Captain?”
The female Antinium’s eyes seemed locked on Zevara, despite the lack of pupils. The Watch Captain hesitated.
“I…don’t think it’s feasible.”
Noiraid nodded.
“The Watch never helps with this kind of thing. Because we are Antinium.”
That stung, again. But Zevara just waited as the dame slowly pulled something else out of the envelope, which was, Zevara was realizing, her only method of carrying anything around. She placed something on the table.
Two copper coins and a puffer stick. She removed the lantern’s glass case and held the puffer stick over the flame. Zevara glowered.
“Oh, come on.”
Noiraid smoked from the cigar, and Zevara eyed the coins.
“What’s that, a bribe?”
“No. Tomorrow, Carpenter Laikos will find a doll waiting for him. A little Human one.”
“Pretty cheap.”
“Yes. But it is all his group had after paying me. He was the only one who had anything, besides Worker Ricton, who hammered broken nails he found into a little nail-person. Now, Laikos will have his doll because he needs it, and they will have nothing at all. Not even the coins they found while working.”
Zevara shifted. Most of what Noiraid said had an—edge to it. She realized that was it. There was emotion in the Antinium’s voice where most were flat. This Antinium’s was all blade.
“Seems unfair. Also…Ricton? That’s a Liscorian-type name. Or close enough. What happened to Hammernails or traditional Antinium names?”
“Maybe Antinium do not want traditional names, Watch Captain.”
“But who gives…are you naming them?”
Zevara narrowed her eyes, and this time, Noiraid paused, as if surprised. She brushed at ash on Zevara’s desk from her puffer.
“Why would Antinium need help naming themselves?”
“They’d need it if they wanted to be…not regular Antinium. Is that another service you provide? So you’re going to buy Carpenter Laikos a doll, and that might help.”
“One doll. His group is eighteen Antinium. All of whom will have nothing.”
“…And you’re telling me why?”
Noiraid paused to pop another of Zevara’s lozenges into her mouth.
“That’s all the coin I was given. If there were more, more dolls might appear. Better ones.”
At this point, Watch Captain Zevara had to sit back.
“Are you asking me for a bribe? The Watch Captain of Liscor?”
“Donations are acceptable.”
The effrontery of some women. Zevara was digging in her money pouch for silver coins when she caught herself. Thus far, the evening was extremely entertaining and informative, but something was niggling at her brain. She put the coins down, but kept her claw over them.
“You’ve been very helpful, Noiraid. I think I can see my way clear to…not filing this report. Or rather, just the bit about the Antinium theft. Question. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
Noiraid paused, and she hesitated for the second time that night.
“Nothing Carpenter Laikos didn’t tell you. Someone ran into him. He lost his doll. He reported it too late. Even if he had called for help, what of it? He’s an Antinium.”
“You implied there were other thefts that occurred. Against Antinium?”
Zevara pressed her, and Noiraid’s antennae tips lifted.
“What of it? The Watch has never cared before.”
“It’s never crossed my desk.”
“Should it have? They were Antinium possessions.”
So a doll, whatever they had on them. Nothing valuable. But Zevara crinkled up her snout. Something stank.
“How many?”
The Antinium woman was visibly reluctant to talk about it, and Zevara felt like it was genuine unwillingness.
“Is this your business, Watch Captain? You said it yourself: you cannot find the culprits.”
“Maybe not—but let’s say I’m curious.”
Zevara shoved a few silvers over and rested her claw on the table. She made a silver piece walk across her fingers. Noiraid caught it and spoke.
“Most occurred after the Winter Solstice. First, one or two. Dozens this week alone.”
“No one noticed?”
“Antinium noticed. They were mostly unreported to the Watch.”
“Why?”
“Who wishes to care about Antinium losing small things? The Watch told the Antinium there was nothing to be done. Antinium are afraid of being…unique. Laikos was desperate. Only a Painted Antinium or [Crusader] would be braver.”
“Did they have things stolen from them?”
“Perhaps a few. But they did not catch those who stole their possessions. Nor did the Watch find anything.”
The Watch Captain’s eyes were narrowing. Her mind lighting up.
“But these thefts are intensifying. Aren’t they? There’s a connection here. These aren’t chance thefts—there’s no value in it. At least, none I can see. If it was some kind of attack on Antinium—”
“They are not hurt, mostly. If it was an attack, Pawn would know.”
“But you don’t know who’s doing it, do you? Are you looking into it?”
Noiraid was quiet, and Zevara fished out another coin. This time, it was gold.
“I bet Antinium would pay you to find what they lost.”
She flipped the coin into the air, and the Antinium caught it. The dame placed it in her envelope.
“I have names.”
Zevara produced another gold coin. The Antinium was silent. Two more had to appear before she spoke.
“What will you do if I give you names, Watch Captain? Many Antinium are like Laikos. Some do not even have names. You will make them…upset if you ask questions.”
“Maybe I’ll ask them gently. Or with someone who knows how to ask them right. But I’m the Watch Captain of Liscor. If someone is stealing from Antinium, I want to know why. Last question—is there any reason they’d steal from the Antinium? Anything valuable your people have?”
Three gold coins vanished into the envelope, which didn’t noticeably bulge. It might have been a Skill, then.
“Oh, yes, Watch Captain. But those who steal may not understand what makes it so valuable. Laikos’ doll was not valuable except to him. However, there are things that are very valuable that Antinium carry. But only Antinium know how to tell what is valuable and what is not. That will soon change.”
“And how…did anyone come to realize they had something of value at all?”
For a reply, Noiraid put the remains of her cigar on the desk after blowing it out.
“Because Pawn is a good person who remembers his debts. And Erin Solstice’s. Ask the Brothers of Serendipitous Meetings what the most valuable thing they sell is.”
“Or you could tell me yourself.”
Noiraid took a final cough drop from Zevara’s bowl and stepped back. She stood by the door.
“I am told you arrest criminals no matter what, Watch Captain. I would dislike to make you think I broke any laws.”
“Hey, wait. I’m not done—”
Zevara had to extricate herself from her desk. By the time she got to the stairs, Noiraid was out of the Watch House. And when Zevara was outside, finding an Antinium in the dark, pouring rain—she stood outside as a yawning Desk Sergeant glanced at her.
“You finding anything to do with all your free time, Watch Captain Zevara?”
The man politely inquired, and Zevara’s eyes gleamed as she turned a half-smile on the Drake, who sat up slightly in surprise.
“You could say that. Tell…Sergeant Relc that he should gear up tomorrow morning. I have more than desk work for us.”
——
The next day, Relc was waiting for Zevara outside the Watch House, excited and somewhat confused.
“It’s been a while since I partnered, Captain. I did a few walks with other Senior Guards who needed someone, but ever since Klb quit I’ve been leading patrols. Who’s my partner today?”
He seemed slightly worried, but was hiding it with cheerfulness as his tail sloshed about in the rain. Zevara got why. Relc didn’t want to say that he’d rather lead a patrol and mind all the young newbies than deal with a partner who couldn’t keep up to him, because that was insulting—but true.
Relc was way too fast and capable for most Senior Guards to partner with. In terms of pure fitness, that was. When he chased a [Thief], he’d lose anyone without a fast movement Skill—the same for how long he could march about. Or combat—if Relc jumped into a situation someone else couldn’t handle, they’d both be in danger.
With Klbkch, Zevara had been able to toss them at problems that no other pairing of [Guards] could handle without fear. She offered him a tight smile as Relc gave her a questioning look, wondering who she was putting with him.
“We’ll see if I can at least keep up with you. You remember how to speak to Antinium without riling them up, right?”
His mouth fell open.
“Wh—you?”
She shot him a glower.
“I was a Senior Guardswoman before I became Watch Captain. I may not be as fast as Klbkch, but if you have any objections—”
Relc glanced back at the Watch House, then threw a salute.
“No, Watch Captain! Er—do I call you ‘partner’?”
“Anything but Captain Z. C’mon, I’ll fill you in on the issue. We have a lot of Antinium to interview.”
Relc’s brows shot up.
“I thought it was just that one poor [Carpenter]?”
Zevara had a list in her claws, and she grimly showed him it. He whistled. There were over two dozen names and locations on the list that Noiraid had given her. Someone had been stealing from Antinium, it seemed. Preying on the people without a voice—just like always. Only, the form and nature of the crime had changed.
Her beloved city had a stain on it. That was how she knew it was still her city.
——
Being a Senior Guard was a position of trust and respect in the city. It meant you took on bigger cases than just patrolling and responding. It also meant you were on your feet a lot and spent a lot of time talking, standing around, and listening.
Zevara’s feet hurt. Three hours of interviewing skittish Antinium made her recall why the job wasn’t always appealing. Relc had mastered it; he stood easily, leaning on his spear, ready to push off and act, but conserving energy; even as big as he was, he seemed to slouch in every direction while maintaining good enough posture that she couldn’t yell at him. She was too stiff, too straight; Zevara massaged her back as he spoke.
“Alright, Antinium Worker. Just repeat what you saw. No one’s in trouble. Revalantor Klbkch isn’t here, and, uh, this is not a matter for the Free Queen. Just the Watch, okay?”
The trembling Antinium calmed slightly, and Zevara thanked her stars again she’d taken Relc with her. He was the only [Guard] with experience talking to Antinium; even other Antinium weren’t good at that.
“This Worker’s report is not accurate…”
“Not accurate’s fine with us! We’re not that strict, right, Zevara?”
He winked at her, and Zevara nodded encouragingly. The Worker hesitated again.
“This Worker informed Guardsman Cossl of incident. Has item been recovered?”
“Not yet. If you could just repeat what you saw for our files?”
Cossl again. It seemed like a certain Drake [Guard] had been in charge of watch patrols in this area around the Antinium Hive just about the time shifts changed. They didn’t call in thefts during the incident, only after they finished work, so his patrol had logged several of these incidents…but not written them up.
Zevara saw why, but she had underlined his name in her notepad. Now, she flipped to a fresh page and took down details. Relc listened, prodding the Antinium, and the notes were simple.
Antinium Worker (no name) assigned to sewer-cleaning duties. Approached and told to turn out pockets. Confused since doesn’t have pockets. Surrendered one scroll to Human man…
“And you just turned it over? Even though it wasn’t to another Antinium?”
Zevara questioned the Worker, who froze up. Relc gently patted him on the shoulder.
“Not that you’re in trouble, right, Zevara?”
She assured the Worker this was the case, and the Worker replied timidly.
“Item was requested. Worker delivered it. But no…Captain Yellow Splatters stated item was not to be given. Miscommunication occurred.”
He trembled again, and Zevara gazed at Relc. Workers were so trusting that they would assume you had a reason to ask for something they held. The Senior Guardsman thanked the Worker for his time.
“Listen, bud, you did great. There’s no problem with your work. We’ll report anything that needs reporting, and if we find that scroll, we’ll get it back to you, alright? Why don’t you buy a snack?”
He fished out a copper coin and handed it to the Worker, who held it like a treasure. The Worker nodded several times and stepped back to the crew, who turned from peeking at the two [Guards]. Relc stepped back, and Zevara finished writing.
“I heard from Lyonette the Antinium were getting wary about their things being stolen. Now I see why. Damn.”
He was looking put upon after this many interviews. So was Zevara. She murmured to him.
“Let’s see. It’s been four scrolls, a bag of catnip, lots of toys—and we have no leads!”
It was always just ‘a Human’ it seemed, male or female, and the Workers didn’t have any other details. Only Carpenter Laikos had ever furnished Zevara with more details, and she’d thought he’d been unhelpful at the time.
“Yeah, well, that’s probably on purpose. Your regular, regular Antinium doesn’t have much personality. They don’t think like Autonomous ones, and even those are more like big kids.”
Relc sighed. What was clear was that the Antinium were victims of theft. Zevara glanced at her list.
“Okay, this Guardsman…Cossl? Do you know him?”
“Rings a bell. He’s probably in Beilmark’s district since she’s taken parts of 3rd District over. Remember we shuffled a lot of [Guards] used to the western district over? There are so many new ones I can’t keep track.”
Another hazard of the Watch’s rapid growth and restructuring. Zevara sighed; this was proving she needed to spend more time with [Guards].
“Me either. However, there’s one last Antinium we should talk to. A Crusader 344-2. According to my…source, he was one of the victims. Or attempted victims.”
“Attempted?”
Relc’s brows shot up. Zevara nodded. She hoped the [Crusader] was still in the city and not with the army. They rotated out for a month, but it would be easy to check…
——
The old army barracks that had used to let Liscor’s mercenaries rotate in and out of duty were active again. Only, it was the new army who used them like a wayhouse for their [Soldiers] getting rotated off the front.
It was pretty simple to ask one of the managers about Crusader 344-2. The Gnoll had a list, and in fact, the Crusader was having breakfast with a squad of mixed Gnolls, Drakes, and Humans. When he got up, they saw it was a Worker wearing a shirt of custom chainmail and leather armor with Liscor’s symbol on it. A classic [Crusader]’s apparel.
“Guards. Am I in trouble?”
He had far, far more personality than the other Workers, and Relc assured him this was just about an attempted theft. Crusader 344-2 clicked his mandibles.
“I told the Senior Guardsman I hurt no one.”
Zevara’s tail twitched, and she saw Relc’s eye twitch slightly her way. She kept her voice level.
“Senior Guardsman? So there was an incident?”
The Worker shrugged. He had the air of a [Soldier], too solid and used to fighting—he had been housing a cheeseburger when they’d interrupted him.
“Senior Guardsman Lens, I think. Isn’t there a report of this written down?”
If there is, I don’t have it. Relc asked the [Crusader] to repeat the story, so Crusader 344-2 did.
“I was off-duty and, uh, doing some business in the streets. Buying and selling. That’s when some idiots decided to come over and try and steal what I was selling. Well, not steal, not at first. Just rip me off. They were offering me coppers for my stuff.”
He clacked his mandibles together. Relc raised his brows.
“What stuff was that?”
The Worker shifted a bit. Like Noiraid, his voice was far different than most Antinium’s. Conversational.
“You know—supplies. Look, we don’t get paid a lot, and it’s expensive eating out. I had a spare, so…it’s not illegal to sell stuff that isn’t army property! I was given it by one of the [Priests], so I can do what I want with it!”
“What’s this item? We’re not arresting you for selling anything if it’s not contraband, Crusader 344-2, we just want to know what it is.”
“My name is Lerhne. It’s just one of these, alright? Lots of Antinium sell them.”
The [Crusader] flashed a familiar scroll at Zevara, and her eyes narrowed. She snagged it before he could place it in a belt pouch.
“Interesting. It’s not magical. What is—”
She saw glowing text before the [Crusader] snatched it from her.
“Hey! Are you trying to waste it? Look, I sold one—or tried to. But then these idiots come up one after another and try to buy it! Then grab it from me.”
Interesting. Zevara nodded to Relc, who scratched his chin.
“Got names or descriptions, Crusader Lerhne? We’ll let you eat your burger as soon as we get answers. Then you can get us out of your antennae.”
“I’d love to. Who knew getting hassled by the Watch was a perk of being a person?”
Lerhne grumbled and then snapped his fingers with a clack that made Zevara jump.
“Right. So there was this Master Y-something. A [Merchant]. I remember him because he sent two idiots over, then came himself. Then this carriage stopped, and a [Lady] spoke to me. She told me to fork it over. I gave her the Crusader 57 response, and she didn’t like that.”
“A [Lady]? Which one?”
“How should I know? She had one of those fancy black carriages with snakes on it. That’s all I remember. The last were two Drakes. I remember their names.”
Zevara was writing fast, excited now. This was very easy to search for. She paused.
“The Drakes were…?”
“Drake…Hissl…and Moass.”
“Moass?”
Relc started laughing, and Zevara tried not to snrk. There were traditional Drake names, but that one was unfortunate. Lerhne grinned with his mandibles.
“Yeah, I remembered it because it was so stupid. They got mad when I laughed at them. They wanted to buy what I had for coppers too.”
“And you turned them down?”
“Sure did. I could get gold, and they just kept haggling and asking stupid questions about the goods. Drawing attention—the Painted Antinium make a fuss if they see, uh—anyways! So I’m going on my way when I feel a tug at my belt. And I see one of Master Y’s goons trying to take it! So I draw my sword and do an [Intimidating Shout] and tell them to drop it! They go running, and the rest of my squad pulls up, so they drop the scroll and that’s that. Aside from the Watch hassling me all day.”
Fascinating. Zevara nodded as she wrote.
“This is more than enough for us, Crusader Lerhne. Do you think that these individuals might have approached other Antinium? We’re investigating a spate of thefts…”
Lerhne shrugged.
“Other Workers? You mean, not Crusaders? I don’t see why you’d steal from them. Most of them would probably sell anything good for a silver piece. Can I go now? My burger’s getting cold.”
Relc nodded after a glance at Zevara, and the Worker stomped back to his meal, loudly grousing about ‘annoying [Guards]’. Zevara just shook her head as she moved back with Relc to confer.
“They’re changing so fast. What do you make of the story?”
The [Watch Sergeant] leaned on his spear. He gave Lerhne a frown.
“I think he’s telling the truth. Antinium don’t lie well, even if they learn to. And that’s not changing. He’s more…copying.”
“Copying? Copying who?”
He shrugged self-consciously and rubbed at his neck-spines.
“Other Antinium. Other [Soldiers]. They pick up things, but I’ve noticed they’re not quite like Klbkch. Old Klb…he was always his own guy, you know? He just put on his professional act, but he had depths. These new Antinium sort of invent themselves, but they don’t have a history.”
That made sense. Klbkch had always had that age to him that made the other [Guards] respect him as a danger and an intelligent member of the Watch, if not a friend at first. Zevara cast a glance at Lerhne.
“Well, he’s given us a lead. A confirmed theft…again, why?”
“Desperation, maybe? Sounds like everyone wants to get their claws on those scrolls or something else. What is it, do you know?”
“Never seen one before. Lyonette was looking at some the other day—the Antinium are thinking of selling them. But it sounds like there’s a black market.”
Another odd concept with the Antinium, but Relc just grimaced.
“Makes sense. Poor bug-guys don’t know what they have. If it’s valuable, they’ll sell it too cheap. Okay, you thinking what I’m thinking?”
It had been a while since she’d done Senior Guard work like this, so Zevara hesitated, then coughed some smoke into her fist.
“Uh—I think we run Master Y’s name in the Merchant’s Guild and have each gate report new [Ladies] entering the city. They have to take records of individuals of note. We go through the logs. It’ll take a few hours to comb through the last few days, though, depending on when they entered.”
She groaned at the idea of having to do that for a single letter in the name. Relc just gave her a slow blink of his eyes.
“We could do that, Zevara. Or…we could ask an expert.”
It was her turn to blink at him.
——
Her instincts were rusty. Zevara’s suggestion felt stupid the moment she saw where Relc was taking her.
Market Street. The eastern street where people operated temporary or permanent stalls each day was always packed with customers. Gnolls and Drakes—and Humans these days, though only a few small stalls had Humans selling anything.
It was a prime place to gossip and meet familiar faces, as Erin Solstice had learned. And for a [Guard]…the best spot to get information.
It was another Silverfang at Krshia’s shop, not the Councilwoman herself. Zevara stared at a lot of posters of Krshia; across the street, Lism’s store had a huge image of him saying ‘Vote for Lism!’ on it.
“Hey, Miss Ekha, right? How’re the Silverfangs doing? Still enjoying Liscor?”
Relc knew her by name, and the Gnoll growled.
“I swear, if it rains another month…I don’t know how you cityfolk do it! I stand at a counter all day, and the city’s so small—it pays ten times what I could make in the tribe, but someone else’s Ancestors! I almost wish I’d gone northwards with the others.”
She must have been a Silverfang from the tribes, not one used to Liscor. Still, the Gnoll was fast enough to change a silver coin from Relc’s claw to coppers as he bought a nali-stick. And she had been in the city long enough—Relc leaned on the counter as the customers saw a second Gnoll ready to ring up goods and changed lanes.
“I’ve got a quick question, Ekha. You heard of any new [Merchants] coming into Liscor? Name starts with a ‘Y’. The Silverfangs probably would know him, right? You guys keep tabs on all the [Merchants] with money. And I’m looking into this [Lady] who rolled in a while back as well, with my partner. Watch business.”
He indicated Zevara, and the Gnoll sniffed.
“Watch Captain Zevara herself? You can’t fool me, Relc. Is this a murder or something?”
“Not at all, Miss Ekha. I’m just following up on lesser matters since the Watch is on top of things.”
Zevara stepped forwards, and Ekha raised her brows.
“‘On top of things?’ That’s not what I’ve heard. Half the city’s talking about the Jeweler’s Guild being robbed. Over a thousand fresh-cut gems from Salazsar, gone!”
Zevara’s jaw dropped slightly. That much? What idiot in the Jeweler’s Guild had stashed that much money in one place? It must have been when they were supplying the gems for the various stores…they’d gotten sloppy with Soot gone.
Relc whistled.
“I heard about that, but that’s Watch Captain Ronss’ district now, not Captain Z’s, Ekha. He’ll be on the job. Ronss is passionate. He spits almost as much fire as Zevara without the Dragonbreath!”
Ekha snorted.
“I’m just glad Market Street is still in Zevara’s district. Everyone’s saying it wouldn’t have happened under her watch. What was that you wanted?”
Zevara tried not to puff up at the compliment; if new Silverfangs had heard that, it meant something. Relc repeated the question, and Ekha waved a paw.
“Merchant Yerham. I know that right off. Only two people with ‘Y’ in their names who’re [Merchants] in the city. He’s an odd one.”
“Dangerous?”
“Nope, just odd. He’s half here, half in Esthelm. Buys a lot of curiosities. He was asking in the Silverfang camps about our goods before we packed up. Respectful, knows his craft, but he’s got no caravan. Gold enough, though. What he really wants is a ‘piano’, but we’re not selling one. That and Honored Deskie’s goods, but she kicked him out.”
Interesting. Zevara blinked at the name.
“Honored Deskie. That’s the Gnoll who the Council welcomed personally, right? Where is she?”
“3rd District. Big apartment connected to a mill. It’s very nice-looking. I’d have gotten a job spinning there if I had the class. Instead, Aunt Krshia got me this job. It’s okay, but I miss being mobile. I might do deliveries for a change.”
Another person to ask. Relc went back to the others.
“The [Lady]?”
“What was the emblem on her carriage?”
“Uh…snakes is what our guy said.”
“Snakes. As in…Relc, no noblewoman has snakes on her carriage. At least, no noble house I know!”
Ekha snorted, and Relc shot Zevara a frown. Either Crusader Lerhne had lied to them or…?
“Know a Hissl or Moass?”
Relc tried one last time, and Ekha started laughing.
“Moass? Seriously? Hissl? That’s the most generic Drake name I could imagine! What poor kid was named Moass? If I met him, I’d buy him a drink out of sympathy!”
Well, that tracked at least. Zevara nodded as Relc led her out of the store. Then she sighed.
“3rd District?”
“Yep.”
“Relc, my feet hurt.”
He gave her a huge grin.
“Tired of getting out of the Watch House, Zevara?”
The [Senior Guardswoman] checked her feet, then she gave him a determined look.
“Not quite. But this time, I lead.”
——
It took them thirty minutes to cross the entire city to the sprawling, walled courtyard that was indeed Honored Deskie’s mill. It was wide, open, and had plenty of space—a huge expense in a city like this, even for 3rd District. But for a Level 40+ [Magical Spinner], Liscor had pulled out all the stops.
Relc was glancing over his shoulder, blinking as they emerged from the alleyway.
“How the hell did you do that, Zevara? Klb and I don’t move that fast!”
“[Backalley Shortcut].”
She was rather pleased by his shocked expression. She knew this city like the back of her claw, and her Skill could make an alleyway develop a temporary gap you could use to bypass a normally-inaccessible street. He whistled.
“How many Skills do you have, Zevara? I always thought you were stacked with them.”
“Two classes’ worth, Relc.”
“Damn, really? I’ve gotta make Watch Captain, then. Who knew you got loaded up like that?”
He was one to talk, being a [Watch Sergeant] and a [Spearmaster]. Zevara rang a bell at the gate, and some Gnolls combing wool under awnings as the rain fell peeked up. One had to run out and splash through the rain to unlock the gate—Zevara apologized.
“We’re here to ask Honored Deskie about a Merchant Yerham? It’s Watch business.”
The wet Gnoll gave her an unhappy growl and sniff.
“I will ask. Please wait there.”
She directed the two to where the wool was being combed and carded. It was a huge process to turn raw wool or other fibers into spinning material, and Deskie seemed to have the entire process in this mill. Zevara wondered if it was bad to have wool exposed to so much moisture…until she saw the sparks coming off the wool being combed and the Gnolls who had gloves on. Their fur was standing on end, and they were grumbling.
The Shockwoolie wool was static and magical! Relc eyed the wool as they waited.
“Fun job?”
One of the Gnolls who was working snapped at him.
“If you want to comb, be my guest, no? I hate Shockwool. I thought I’d stop having to comb it when we left Longstalker’s Fang, but noooo—it’s the most desired clothing! I hope lightning strikes us.”
There was a faint boom overhead, and Zevara eyed the sparks coming off the wool with apprehension.
“Is that…likely?”
An older Gnoll growled with amusement.
“Hrr. Not likely! It’s the one benefit of herding Shockwoolies. Lightning avoids hitting herds of them. I’ve seen it come down and bounce off of them when they’re gathered together. Something about repulsion. It feels like it should want to follow all this electricity, but it doesn’t. If you buy some of our clothing, you won’t be hit by lightning either! At least, not directly. We used to advertise it meant you’d be safe in a storm until an idiot went walking around and a lightning bolt took down a tree that fell on his head.”
Interesting. Zevara was peering at other magical threads being worked on looms when the Gnoll came back to say Deskie was ready for them.
——
They found Honored Deskie picking at a tangle of threads in her workshop, which doubled as a living room. It was already crowded with carpets, a huge sitting chair where she could work, and a table where you could sit and warm yourself around an indoor firepit—there was a chimney cut into the roof that prevented rain from coming in, but let the smoke out.
It was a Gnoll’s tribal camp in a city! The Gnoll was peering at threads in some kind of weird device that seemed to be made to pick apart cloth—she was muttering to herself.
“Stupid threads. No matter how much I unravel them, they’re just…what’s this one?”
She had unravelled a very ugly shirt and was inspecting a band of yellow that seemed to grow more luminescent the more it was separated from the other material. Deskie had uncoiled it until individual fibers showed Zevara it was some kind of composite spun from multiple spots.
Deskie had glasses on her nose, and she was peering hard at one glowing strand. She didn’t even look up as Relc introduced them.
“Watch Captain, hrr. You wanted to ask about that Merchant Yerham? I have many people who want my time now that I can be found in the city, yes? It is flattering—and more annoying than flattering, I think.”
Zevara nodded at her.
“We don’t want to take up your time, Honored Deskie. May I ask what you’re doing, though?”
The Gnoll woman glanced up and took some tea given to her by an apprentice; a bowl of silkap, flatbread, and tea appeared for the two hungry [Guards] who accepted the hospitality with gratitude. Gnolls didn’t let you enter and go hungry.
“Merely unravelling the secrets to magical threads lost to modern ages.”
“Oh, that’s all?”
Relc joked, and Deskie snorted.
“That’s all. It seems so silly to me as well; once I was put upon the scent, I keep finding it hidden in clothing. First that dress, now this—”
She gestured at the shirt.
“Always a band of cloth. Always…and a treatment to the cloth so you would never see the true luster of it. You see?”
She showed them how the ‘dull’ fabric was an illusion. Some kind of powder or film was hiding the true, magical luster of the threads.
“Almost like someone was trying to hide…not almost, I think. Maybe it is to [Weavers] what Adamantium and the like is to [Smiths]. A challenge sent across the ages. But learning how to make more…”
She stroked at her chin fur, then turned to them.
“This is old knowledge, the kind a Gnoll such as myself knows. Everyone is all too newfangled with their devices, yes? Like my Spinning Deskie.”
She pointed at a spinning wheel that seemed different from the ones Zevara had seen as a child. Deskie murmured.
“Little pieces of metal and wood replace the need for magic or Skills. Such an upset they caused in my tribe. I embrace it, and so do others. Like Merchant Yerham. Has he caused trouble? He was merely insistent with me.”
Deskie knew why they’d come, and Zevara leaned forwards.
“So he was after your Spinning Deskie?”
“That and he thought I could get him the offerings of the Meeting of Tribes directly. He offered a lot of gold for this, and knowledge, but he was polite enough. Has he committed a crime I should know?”
“None we have proof of at this time, Honored Deskie.”
The [Magical Spinner] snorted.
“Then I will keep an eye on him given that ‘this time’ changes very quickly, Watch Captain. What else can I help you with?”
It seemed that was the end of Deskie’s details, which meant they should have just spared themselves the effort and gone to the Merchant’s Guild to interview Yerham directly. However, the free silkap and tea left the two [Guards] in a better mood as they thanked Deskie, and she waved them away. They were headed out into the sopping-wet courtyard and splashing towards the gates when they heard an altercation.
“You may not enter Honored Deskie’s mill! Begone, no!”
The same Gnoll who’d let them in was trying to block some people forcing their way through. Zevara touched Relc’s shoulder, and they strode forwards.
“Hey, what’s the matter?”
Relc shouted, and Zevara saw a carriage had pulled up, and some men were trying to unlatch the gates. A rather obnoxious man was cracking the whip from the driver’s seat where a cloth awning shielded him from the rain.
“Out of the way, Gnoll! Lady Cecille wishes to commission a dress from this place posthaste! Move aside, I say!”
There were three rather burly men shoving at the Gnoll. The other Gnolls working in the mill were approaching fast, but Relc lifted a hand.
“Lads, lads—Miss, I can handle this. We’re the Watch, and trespassing on private property is illegal in Drake cities. Which this is.”
He sauntered over, spear on his shoulders, a huge smile on his face, and this was classic Senior Guardsman Relc. The three servants hesitated as they saw him coming—Relc could project bad news in a way that even ordinary [Thugs] got.
The [Driver] just sneered down at Relc.
“Out of our way, Guardsman. This is Lady—”
He leaned back and cringed as the window behind him slammed open.
“Guards, Your Ladyship. I’m telling them—yes, Your Ladyship.”
He turned back as Zevara moved sideways, checking for more threats coming on Relc’s side. She saw a rain-spattered icon on the carriage door and blinked.
It was a bundle of roses with thorns and vines twining upwards around a familiar crest. She knew this one.
House Reinhart. It was normally only the pink carriage Zevara recalled, but this was the crest of all of House Reinhart, not just Lady Magnolia herself. But as she stared at it, she realized that in the rain, you could easily mistake the wending thorns and flowers for…
Snakes.
The [Driver] hopped down, cursing as he gestured at the carriage and strode up to Relc.
“Lady Cecille wishes to speak to Honored Deskie herself. She is a very busy woman—”
“And this is private property. You can’t muscle your way in here. The Gnolls will call the Watch, otherwise. Which is me and my partner.”
Relc jerked a thumb at Zevara, and the [Driver] forced an irritated smile.
“Guardsman, Lady Cecille is very busy. If you’d consider ignoring this triviality while I soothe these furry folk?”
He waved a dismissive hand at the ‘furry folk’, who growled because they had excellent hearing, but Zevara didn’t miss him clasping Relc’s claw. Then again, she didn’t have to, because Relc regarded the gold coin he’d been slipped and flipped it in one clawed hand.
“Nice bribe. Hey, Captain Z—what’s the penalty for bribing the Watch?”
He flicked the coin, and it pinged off the carriage window hard enough to make the glass tremble. But it stayed in one piece; it must have been enchanted. Zevara swore she saw the curtains move slightly, but she had no notion of who was inside…
“Senior Guardsman Relc, that would be imprisonment overnight in the Watch’s jail for a minor infraction, but we offer verbal warnings. Master Driver, I suggest you remove your carriage from Honored Deskie’s premises—now. And we would like a word with Lady Cecille Reinhart about a matter of Watch business.”
At the name ‘Captain Z’, the [Driver] visibly paled and began to deny he’d been bribing anyone. But then the sliding hatch opened in the carriage, and a faint voice spoke.
“Sollux, you imbecile. Step aside. And you, Watch Captain, approach.”
Zevara did not like the presumptuous tone coming from the carriage and sloshed over in the rain. She stood next to the window and rapped on the glass.
“Lady Cecille Reinhart?”
The glass window rolled down a crack, and the curtains moved ever-so-slightly. Zevara got a look at a woman sitting in the back of a carriage, wrapped up in a scarf and a huge fur coat, likely for the cold. But no more than a glimpse; the [Lady] spoke, her voice muffled from the carriage.
“I believe my man erred in attempting to smooth things over, Watch Captain. Having him arrested would be dreadfully inconvenient. I trust this matter is closed? Or did you have a reason to bother me about my business?”
Her three cronies and the [Driver] lined up next to the carriage, shivering in the rain. Zevara bet they rode while hanging onto the carriage or in the driver’s seat or rear stoop; she couldn’t imagine this woman sharing space with anyone.
“As a matter of fact, Lady Cecille, I am launching an inquiry into some thefts in Liscor. May I interview you about your activities the last few days? Please roll down your window.”
After a long, long pause, the window edged down half an inch. Lady Cecille’s voice sounded distinctly displeased.
“I do believe I would recall a theft of my property, Watch Captain. I have not launched any complaints. Sollux, did you?”
“N-no, Lady Reinhart!”
His teeth were chattering. Zevara sighed.
“I meant of other people’s property, Lady Cecille.”
“Oh, someone else has been robbed? Dreadful, dreadful.”
Zevara saw the woman was painting her nails in the carriage! The Drake tried to stare into the window as rain pelted her and got a glimpse of some red lips, green, piercing eyes, and a disinterested face.
Human nobility. She’d heard they were bad, but this—
“Yes, Lady Cecille, so I would appreciate your cooperation!”
“I see, I see. I, however, am too busy for such matters. Good day, Watch Captain. Sollux? I will visit this weaver another day.”
The man leapt in the carriage seat at once and almost started the carriage before Zevara, stunned, barked back.
“You can’t just ride away from me! This is a Watch matter!”
The carriage halted as Relc blocked the way of the horses, and Lady Cecille’s window cracked down again.
“Really, Sollux?”
“This is a Drake City, Lady Reinhart—should I—?”
From the way he glanced at the three Humans, Zevara felt an itch running down her spine, but she and Relc would have easily been able to take down three regular goons. Cecille sighed loudly.
“I didn’t order you to do anything Sollux. Very well, Watch Captain. What is your name?”
“Watch Captain Zevara, Lady Cecille. Now, I have a report of you hassling an Antinium Worker about some items he was selling?”
“An Antinium…oh, I suppose I stared at the insects, yes indeed. What of it?”
Zevara gritted her teeth.
“May I ask why you were buying goods from Antinium?”
“Watch Captain, I collect interesting items all the time. I don’t recall this incident you seem convinced I had a hand in. Perhaps I saw something I desired and wished to buy it? It certainly sounds like me, though from an insect…”
“An Antinium Worker, Lady Reinhart.”
“And did I steal something from this…Worker?”
“No, Lady Reinhart, I’m merely inquiring into your actions.”
Lady Cecille’s voice went even drier.
“Very well done, then. I can see that vaunted Drake efficiency is all over this city. Is that all? I attempted to buy some object, I can readily admit to. And my involvement in this dreadful crime is…?”
Zevara didn’t have a link, but she would have given up her sword to find one right now. She gritted her teeth.
“You didn’t steal anything and you have no involvement in any thefts or crimes in Liscor, then?”
“No, Watch Captain, I do not. You could have led with that question, incidentally.”
“Thank you for your time, then.”
The window snapped up in a second, and Watch Captain Zevara stood there. Blisteringly annoyed, she watched as the carriage sped down the street. Relc sauntered over, claws in his pockets.
“Was she as rude as I thought I heard, Watch Captain? You were breathing smoke there.”
“She was—and good thing you were there, Relc, because I think she’d have put those bullyboys on me if not for you. Then again, she didn’t sound stupid. Just arrogant. Tell me you got something.”
Zevara had little hope. If he had, he’d have stepped in. Relc sighed and showed her the truth stone he’d been hiding behind a claw.
“It wasn’t reacting to most of what she said. But that last part I got pure white on.”
“Really? Damn. I thought she was dancing around the truth very well—but she just came out with a denial.”
Truth stones were issued to all Senior Guards these days, and Zevara had been trying to get Cecille to admit to a crime so she could nab her—but then it hadn’t been her, but Merchant Yerham, hadn’t it? Even so, a woman prepared to bribe or run straight into a weavery to get her way surely did something wrong each day…but Relc just shrugged.
“Maybe she’s just some snooty idiot. Reinharts, huh? I only knew Magnolia, but I hear they suck. And there’s more of them up north. Valeterisa talks like they’re all vipers.”
“It certainly explains how Crusader Lerhne got mixed up. She’s a person of interest in this case, Relc. Let’s keep an eye out for her and ask the rest of the Watch if she’s causing mischief. Otherwise…Merchant’s Guild?”
He groaned as she pointed.
“Now my feet hurt, Zevara. I’d rather run there and back than walk in the rain another thirty minutes.”
She had an idea and offered him a crooked smile.
“Well, we could take my bicycle. Rock, sword, wand, and the loser runs?”
Relc perked up at once.
“Hey! I get to ride one of those things and make you run behind me?”
He missed her smirk as she held out a fist.
——
Watch Captain Zevara parked her bicycle by the Merchant’s Guild, trusting that the guards would keep it safe, and noticed someone else had one set up there too. Relc wasn’t panting, but he pretended to clutch at his sides as he stopped.
“Argh! I hate that thing! You cheated!”
“I did not.”
She spoke with a straight face. Relc pointed at her furiously.
“You said you were going to play ‘rock’!”
“I was just being honest.”
Those kinds of games were more about psychology than anything else, and Zevara had [Sense Intentions]. Relc was a good [Guard], but he didn’t exactly have Klbkch’s sense of subtlety.
Once they were inside, they dried off with some complimentary towels, and Zevara marched over the fancy marble floors of the expensive guild to ask about a Merchant Yerham.
To her relief, he was in the Guild, and when he came out, he seemed genuinely surprised—and a bit worried—when they asked to speak with him in an office.
The Merchant’s Guild let their richer members have places to stay when visiting other cities, and Yerham poured them some water. He was a thinner man with a vest with a bunch of pockets on it that was still very expensive—his eyes flicked to Zevara, to Relc, and he licked his lips.
“Watch Captain and Senior Guardsman Relc. To—to what do I owe this unexpected visit?”
“We’re just investigating a matter of a theft, Merchant Yerham. An attempted theft and series of thefts, to be precise.”
Lerhne had said ‘a Human man’ from Yerham’s company had stolen from him. Zevara had wondered if it could be the [Lady], but Yerham’s twitch made her glance at Relc. He was drinking water, while his other claw was balled into a fist under the table, hiding a truth stone from the man.
“Thefts, oh my. That sounds, ah, rather serious.”
Yerham took a big gulp of water, and then color returned to his cheeks.
“However, I can assure you I haven’t had any thefts to my property! This is in regards to the, uh—uh, Jeweler’s Guild thefts, yes?”
“Actually, Merchant Yerham, we were inquiring into more…localized thefts. Can you tell us if you were attempting to make purchases from any individuals in the city these last few days?”
Relc gave Zevara a casual nudge with his tail that the Human man missed—it said there hadn’t been a lie so far. Yerham murmured.
“Purchases? I’m doing a lot of business in Liscor, and I’ve been making several—purchases, Watch Captain. Attempts at them, anyways; you know how it is.”
“For your caravan? I didn’t know you had one, Merchant Yerham.”
Hesitation. He licked his lips.
“I don’t have one at this time. I took the door from Invrisil just to scope out the city ahead of a possible trading trip! I intend to finish my business in a day or two.”
Truth, lie, truth. Zevara raised her brows.
“What are you searching for, Master Yerham?”
“Why, anything of value, Watch Captain. You know us [Merchants]. I’m interested in fine materials, magical artifacts, and I do specialize in curios!”
Lie, and a half-lie. Zevara glanced at Relc, and he took over.
“Curios like Honored Deskie’s products and inventions from the Meeting of Tribes?”
Yerham paled a shade further.
“That’s, ah, very astute of you, Senior Guardsman. Has Honored Deskie been robbed? I would hate it if that were the case.”
“Not her, but we are very concerned about a series of thefts.”
Relc emphasized the word, and Yerham nodded faintly. His eyes were locked on Zevara. She felt ready to pounce, and she was checking to see he wasn’t holding a wand or something. This is where the arrest could get nasty! And this was real Watch work.
Why was this man stealing Antinium goods? They’d soon find out—sometimes in this line of business, you found the criminal before you knew what the crime was. A lot of the time, actually.
She gave him her best not-so-kind Watch Captain smile and leaned forwards.
“Master Yerham, it seems to us that you know more than you’re letting on. We know you’re lying.”
He paled and began to stutter a denial, but she cut him off.
“Just tell us the truth and we’ll let you go. Master Yerham, why would an upstanding [Merchant] with plenty of gold stoop to stealing from Antinium in the streets?”
She smiled as Relc grinned, and the [Merchant] stared at her—and the wrinkled brow covered in sweat suddenly unknotted. He sat back, took a deep breath, and smiled.
Uh oh.
“Antinium? Watch Captain, I don’t steal from—dead gods! Is this what this is all about? I swear on a truth spell that I haven’t stolen from nor do I have any knowledge of anyone stealing from Antinium! Who would do such a thing? In Liscor? With the Free Hive under our feet?”
Relc and Zevara shot each other suddenly concerned looks. He nudged her. Truth on each statement? Yerham pushed himself back from the table.
“I know—aha, I know exactly what you’re talking about! There was that Antinium who was selling a scroll, wasn’t there? I approached him and underbid it—quite embarrassing, but I didn’t steal anything! A [Guardsman] even interviewed me about the incident! Cossl, I think. Yes, Guardsman Cossl. I told him the same thing I’ll tell you: I had nothing to do with it, and none of my people did either!”
This time, Zevara actually turned to Relc, who gave up and showed her the truth stone. It was glowing white.
Could he be lying to her? Relc and Zevara both had ways of detecting guilt beyond mere truth stones, which you could talk around. Zevara’s instincts and her Skills like [Sense Intentions] told her that Merchant Yerham was guilty of something and very, very worried.
But not this. And she’d just walked them into a problem.
“Well—that’s very reassuring to know, Merchant Yerham. We’re investigating these thefts—”
“And I can attest that I stole nothing. In fact, my entire bodyguard team can swear on truth stones they had nothing to do with that theft either! I can call them over, if you’d like.”
He was only too happy to whistle them up, which told Zevara this was a waste of damn time. She needed to get more questions out of him, but she had narrowed her inquiry too fast.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about other thefts, Merchant Yerham?”
She tried the broad question, and he turned on her, waving a finger admonishingly.
“Watch Captain, well I never! Such a question! You and I both know that such broad, open-ended questions are unbecoming of the Watch! If I had a friend who committed some small indiscretion like stealing candy from his own child, you can’t just have me in chains over that! I’m happy to answer any questions regarding these terrible Antinium thefts, but I must insist you leave if that’s not your line of inquiry!”
Damn, damn, damn! The problem with truth stones was that they did have weaknesses like this. There were laws about just hauling someone in and asking vague questions like ‘are you aware of a crime’. Everyone was aware of a crime. Zevara had to admit she didn’t have a link between her case and any other crime…and Yerham practically skipped out of the room.
She and Relc traded glances as he introduced her to his bodyguards, all except two who were off-duty. All of them dutifully said they didn’t have anything to do with Antinium theft…and Relc was grinding his teeth by the time they were outside the Merchant’s Guild.
“Bastards practically shoved us out the door. I hate [Merchants]. They always cover each other. And they won’t let us ask him more questions.”
“Probably because all of them would fail a truth stone test if we asked them if they were breaking the law generally. Cheating their clients, evading taxes…the Merchant’s Guild knows how to play the game. Damn it, Relc, you saw his face!”
Relc nodded gloomily.
“If Klb were with me, he’d know what to do. He’d put his Listeners on Yerham and pretend he had ‘inside information’. Or a Worker.”
“He’s done that before?”
Relc winked at Zevara.
“Sure did. No one notices Workers. One time, a Worker shadowed some of Soot’s goons all day.”
Zevara went to thunk her head against the wall of the Merchant’s Guild.
“Right now, I feel like a rookie, and I could use him. Yerham’s done something, Relc! Let’s just get to the Watch House. I’m sick of the rain.”
“Hey, you’re pretty sharp, Captain Z. Oops, sorry, Zevara. I can see how you made Senior Guardswoman so young.”
Zevara waved this away, embarrassed.
“I was just good at surviving and scrapping, Relc. I feel like the new Watch is ten times as good as the one I was in. A hundred times. I’m falling behind the new wave, which is why having other Watch Captains is important.”
Relc just gave her a worried look as they went to where she’d tied her bicycle.
“Zevara, you’re the hardest-working Drake in the entire city. And the incorruptible one—even Klbkch used to say you were the only person more dedicated to the job than him. If that Venim guy hadn’t taken your job, I’d have voted for you for Watch Commander.”
She sighed and tried not to blush at the frank praise.
“I’m not one for all that paperwork, Relc. I just want to make a difference…here!”
She pointed to the street, frustrated. Running a good Watch was important, but she wasn’t a full commander. She was a [Guardswoman] as well as a [Watch Captain]. Relc nodded.
“Me, I have the opposite problem. I used to think I could only change things when I knocked heads together, Captain. Now I feel like all this teaching and training does more good, but I suck at it.”
He grinned at her, and she blinked at him and thought Venim had a point. Maybe he could be a Watch Captain. And she needed to either shape up and learn her new role or get back to basics…
Zevara was about to get on her bicycle when someone grabbed the handlebars.
“You [Thief]! That’s my bicycle!”
A Drake barked at her, red-faced, and she stared at a [Trader] who’d come running out the Merchant’s Guild.
“No, this is my bicycle.”
“Liar! This is a custom Solar Cycles bicycle, not some trash knockoff! Guards! Guards!”
Relc tapped the Drake on the shoulder as he began to shout.
“Hey there. That’s my Watch Captain you’re screaming at.”
The [Trader] froze—then gaped at Zevara.
“Watch Captain? I, uh—”
Zevara pointedly gestured at her bicycle. There was a metal engraving on the handlebars that said, ‘To Captain Zevara. Sorry about the tail.’
She wished he hadn’t engraved it. Kevin didn’t get that the tail was a bit of a private thing for Drakes, but it worked. The [Trader] instantly apologized. He was, in fact, Trader Beneckham, a local who had his own bicycle.
“A Solar Cycles original, just like yours. With all these knockoffs around the city, everyone wants to ‘accidentally’ swap bicycles with me, Watch Captain. I am so sorry about the mixup—yours is even better than mine!”
He gazed enviously at her wheels, and Zevara cursed.
“It is? It was a gift from the late Kevin…I thought it was standard.”
“Not a Monarch-grade bicycle, perhaps, but it’s been enchanted better than a regular one! Here, let me show you mine. I paid for that new gear-system you have. Wonderful work, you know. Even Pallassian [Engineers] don’t know how Kevin did it. Ah, that man was a genius.”
“It’s that advanced?”
The [Trader] was pulling a cover off of his own bicycle and revealed one much like Zevara’s. He smirked at her with civic pride.
“They can do the same thing, but it’s more like seeing how it was done and the techniques involved, Watch Captain. Reproducing the method—and I suppose it’s so clever that Solar Cycles stays ahead of all the other manufacturing giants. For instance, Dwarfhalls Rest is making bicycles—but they don’t know how the gears work yet!”
The old game of copyright theft was at work on a grander scale. Zevara snorted and imagined there was a lot of gold to be made in such things. Certainly, [Trader] Beneckham was advertising himself as a man of the future with his ride. He gestured down proudly at his bicycle…and then screamed.
“What the—?”
Instead of the complicated system of gears and spokes, the entire center of his bicycle frame was gone. Someone had sawed through the steel and ripped out the entire system, leaving only ends of metal!
“My bicycle! How—where are the guards?”
Beneckham howled, and Zevara and Relc felt guilty until he rounded on the Merchant’s Guild’s own enforcers. Zevara blinked down at the dismantled bicycle.
“Someone ripped the gears out of there? Just the gears?”
Relc nodded, running a finger along the metal edges.
“Must have been fast. Hacksaw. Enchanted hacksaw. This metal’s made tough; Valeterisa said Hedault enchants everything. They knew what they wanted and went for it, fast.”
“Without the Merchant’s Guild’s people noticing? They pay attention to anyone who’s not supposed to be here!”
Zevara glanced at the embarrassed [Guards], who indeed seemed shocked by the theft. Relc spat.
“Probably a distraction Skill or they just were lazy. Hmm. Someone knew this was here, Zevara.”
She concurred. This was too neat a crime to have occurred spontaneously. One did not walk around with an enchanted hacksaw in their trousers, and it was too slick. In fact…she slipped from her bicycle and knelt on the ground.
“Maybe there’s a chance…watch my back, will you?”
Her head rose and swivelled across the wet street in a moment. Relc raised his brows.
“You think whoever did it is nearby?”
Zevara said nothing as her eyes locked on anyone who had a bulky item under their rainjacket or a bag of holding she could spot. Her eyes swivelled around, and she spoke a Skill.
“[Time of the Crime]. It’s been…a minute and forty-six seconds since this bicycle was vandalized, Sergeant Relc. Someone took the bicycle’s parts right before we came outside. Lock the street down.”
Now she was a [Guardswoman] again, and Relc jerked, then inhaled.
“Theft on the street! Nobody move!”
His roar made everyone jump, but the citizens grumbled and largely held still. Zevara rose from her haunches as the [Trader] whirled.
“Wait, they’re still here?”
“Senior Guardsman Relc and Watch Captain Zevara! We’re going to inspect bags of holding! Someone’s stolen a valuable item—this won’t take long! If you’re called out, just step over and we’ll search you very quickly!”
Relc knew the job, and the citizens hollered back.
“Make it fast, Relc! I have a job to do!”
“Watch Captain Zevara? What about the gems theft?”
“Hah! She can let the Jeweler’s Guild rot! Now we’re stealing from the Merchant’s Guild? Make my day!”
They were largely good-natured as Relc and Zevara pointed out people with obvious bulges in their clothing or bags of holding. The rain made it harder to instantly spot who might be hiding something; a raincloak was big, but the item that had been stolen was bulky too. Zevara feared for a moment that this street wouldn’t contain the suspect, but her intuition was buzzing.
“You there, step forwards, please!”
She motioned aside a Gnoll woman who had been holding a baby in her arms, and a figure standing with their face turned away from her twitched in the street. They had a hood on and dark clothing…they took a few steps away from her as she stared at the bag of holding she’d glimpsed from beneath their tunic.
“You there. I said halt—”
Zevara’s feet were already digging into the ground, and Relc spun around. He shouted.
“GOTCHA.”
Sometimes, you just had to scream that and the criminals ran. The figure bolted like a shot, and Zevara almost laughed. They were trying to outrun the Gecko of Liscor? Relc could have caught them in two streets, even with the crowd, but she made it even easier.
“[Freeze, Criminal]!”
She pointed her finger, and the figure screamed and jumped sideways—a second before Relc crashed into them. Zevara saw him roll onto the ground, subduing what turned out to be a nervous young man in moments…and Zevara stared at her finger.
“Huh?”
They’d moved just now. She saw the civilians applauding or asking what had been stolen as Merchant Yerham ran over. They began moving off, and Zevara felt that prickling on the back of her neck.
Wait a moment. She spun, and this time, her eyes were wide. She paid attention to no faces, none of the people, just the most basic of things: movement.
She saw one person in the crowd moving away from them, not staring at what was going on or just going about their day. A second figure—jogging away fast.
“Relc, decoy! There!”
Relc glanced up as the real [Thief] broke into a dead run. Zevara charged, cursing. The oldest trick in the book! Someone eats the pursuit Skill and buys the real runner time—
“Halt in the name of the Watch!”
They never halted. Zevara saw the figure skid left and charged after them through the rain. She hurtled past people, blowing a whistle now to let other [Guards] know she was on the chase. She nearly slammed into a wagon as she saw her quarry sprinting down the street, and they pushed off it, cursing.
Just like the old days!
My feet hurt so damn much—
——
Liska was bored. She was always bored. But at least she had food, good pay, and television. She barely looked up from a bowl of noodles she was blowing on as she listened to Channel 2 news.
“All aboard to wherever from wherever. Liscor to Invrisil. Go. Liscor to Pallass. Go. [Hold Door]—you idiots, wait for people to exit.”
She halted an impatient group from Pallass without even eyeing them. She could actually sense them in her head. Liska slurped at her soup noisily and sighed.
“Now go.”
Life was so hard on days like this, with the rain. She pulled her blanket up around her and decided some ice cream after the soup was what she needed. Liska changed the [Door of Portals] to another destination with her will alone.
“Everyone to Liscor—go. Everyone going somewhere else?”
A group entered the inn, wet, muttering questions—Liska slapped a paw on the sign.
“Read sign. Now—”
“Excuse me, I’m in a hurry. Invrisil.”
Someone tried to push forward, and Liska held up a paw. The man slammed into the [Forcewall].
“No. Next…Liscor to Celum.”
Only a few people, but more than you’d think. Xitegen’s city. She pointed at an annoying, panting, wet man.
“Pay up, and if you cause trouble, I’ll call security on you.”
Which was Elia or someone—she could do it too, but she was too busy. He fumbled at his pouch.
“What if I pay you to—”
“No. Last chance.”
He wavered, then tossed coins into the bowl. Liska nodded.
“And you go. Sorry for the hold up, folks, some people cause trouble. Liscor to Riverfarm, go.”
She did another cycle of the door to all locations—well, all public locations, there were a few special ones only she knew about—when she opened the door to Liscor and someone burst through.
“In the name of the Watch—”
Liska nearly dropped her soup all over herself as Zevara sprinted through the door, wheezing and coughing. She appeared like a mess. She was panting for breath, and Liska leapt up.
“I didn’t do it!”
“Where is he? Where’s—someone just came through! Human, my height! Running! Where, the inn?”
Zevara was clutching at her chest; she was exhaling smoke! Liska hesitated.
“Wh-who?”
“Where—?”
Someone in line pointed.
“The [Doorgnoll] let him into Celum, Guardswoman!”
Watch Captain Zevara whirled on Liska. The [Doorgnoll] raised her paws.
“Hey! I just do my job—”
“Celum, now!”
Zevara roared, and the door clicked around until it showed the right symbol. Liska protested.
“You have to pay—”
Too late. Zevara was charging through the door into the dry streets of Celum, shouting. Liska sat down at her desk and peered at the crowd. They stared at her. She spread her paws.
“It’s not my fault! I think.”
——
That damn Liska! Zevara lost nearly a minute in the pursuit, but her quarry wasn’t going to lose her that fast; every passing person could identify a wheezing man running for it. And so could she.
[Pursuit Steps]. It made her see footsteps where the person she was tracking was going. They faded within bare minutes, so it was no good for anything longer, but for this? It meant they couldn’t hide in an alleyway without her seeing them stop.
They’d tried twice, but she’d caught them each time. The [Thief] had evaded capture though with an incredible and powerful Skill of their own: running really fast.
Zevara was footsore from a day of work already, wearing boots, her uniform, and armor. The [Thief] was fresh, had a bag of holding with the stolen item inside, and motivated by fear.
If only she hadn’t used her [Freeze, Criminal] Skill! Zevara’s lungs were burning, and she knew she was wheezing smoke.
Part of being an Oldblood came with drawbacks if your lungs weren’t perfect. She was wheezing for air and took a Bottle of Air out at an intersection and gulped down fresh oxygen.
“Where…is…?”
The footsteps had ended in the middle of the street. She stared ahead, then at a fence.
“Ancestors damn it.”
She climbed the stone fence and raced across a well-kept mansion front. The footsteps vaulted the fence on the other side—she leapt them and saw no footprints in the street.
“Ancestors—”
It took her a second to figure it out. On top of the stone wall! The [Thief] realized she was tracking them somehow. Zevara had to balance as she walked the stone wall, then she saw more footprints. Up a roof, across two low apartments there, and—
“Oho.”
The [Thief] froze as they were lowering themselves from the edge of the roof. Zevara pointed at them. They let go, and she heard a crash as she leapt from the fence and circled.
They burst out of the alleyway, covered in muck, and she gave chase again. Down the street! She slammed into someone carrying a load of groceries. Zevara picked herself up, sprinted down the street, ducking a City Runner galloping into the city with a long, wrapped package that swung at head-height.
They were going for the gates.
“No, you—”
Forty-six minutes since her footrace had begun, Watch Captain Zevara spat a fireblast at the [Thief], who dodged sideways. The [Guards] at the gate shouted, but the flames dissipated in the air well before it could hit anyone, and Zevara used the juking of the [Thief] to close the distance.
Her tackle caught the [Thief], slammed them face-first into the wall, and Zevara hit the ground. She rolled up, ready to make it a fight, but the man just wheezed once and raised his hands.
“I surrender!”
“You…are…under arrest…in…the name…”
He began coughing as Zevara exhaled enough smoke for three fireplaces over him. She had to sit down as the world greyed out. He promptly tried to wiggle away, and she grabbed his foot.
“[Summon Manacles].”
He nearly took his own foot off as the metal cuff anchored him to the iron grille of a gate. He went down, swearing, clutching at his ankle, and Zevara grinned.
“And now…hand it over. And you’re going to tell me exactly who you are and why…you’re stealing bicycle parts!”
She snatched his bag of holding, reached inside, and yanked out the first metallic object she found. There! The gears and bicycle chain clanked as she tossed it to the ground.
“Don’t kill me!”
The man was shielding himself as she drew her sword; Zevara shook her head at him.
“Run and I’ll paralyze you—with a Skill, you idiot. Do you think we just kill people in Drake cities? You’re under arrest for theft, evading the law, and—well, that’s it.”
She realized it wasn’t going to be a long prison sentence. Just a hefty fine, probably. Regular [Thieves] spent time in prison, but not more than a week or two—Liscor would exile you before it imprisoned you for a long stint like Calruz. [Prisoners] cost money, and who had time for that?
She hobbled over, feeling blisters forming under her scales. Dead gods, she hurt all over.
“Did you have to run half of Liscor and Celum, you idiot?”
“Did you have to chase me all that way? Aren’t you the Watch Captain? You have better things to do than this sort of thing! It’s a part of a damn bike, not murder!”
To her amazement, the [Thief] was actually talking back to her. Zevara wheezed.
“An expensive bicycle.”
“It’s light espionage! Who puts a Senior Guardsman and the Watch Captain on people for that?”
She could only shake her head at the outrage from the panting man. Now she got a look at him, he was in his early thirties, blond-haired, with decently expensive clothing on.
Leather armor under his clothing. Huh. Is he more than a [Thief]? I can’t believe he outran me that long. He’s fit.
“What kind of [Thief] fears being shanked? Who’re you working for?”
“Who said I was working for anyone?”
“You did just now. Let me see…what have we here?”
She was going through his money pouch, finding more gold than she should for a random [Thief]…and a ring. Zevara frowned and peered at the obsidian signet with an odd symbol in the center.
“Hello, what’s this?”
He’d gone very still when she pulled the ring out. It had a complicated little carving in it. It seemed like a hammer and tongs crossed with a…wand?
What an odd sigil. It made her think she’d seen part of it before, but Zevara didn’t get a chance to observe more. There was a thunking, rhythmic sound, and she glanced up and readied her sword only for three giant Golems to come thundering down the street.
“Lawbreakers, you are under arrest. Do not move!”
Uh. Zevara’s mouth was open as a giant ceramic Golem in the shape of a massive Human in armor stared down at her with bright blue eyes. She lifted her sword.
“I’m Watch Captain Zevara in pursuit of—”
Oh, wait. She was in Celum. Zevara’s heart thundered as two Golems behind the first drew swords. Big swords.
“Lawbreakers, lower your weapons immediately!”
She tossed her weapon down after a moment’s hesitation. The [Thief] brightened up.
“Hah! They think you’re—”
“[Detect Lies]. Are you a lawbreaker?”
The lead Golem pointed at Zevara. She shouted back.
“No, I’m the Watch Captain of Liscor in pursuit of a criminal!”
The Golem paused, and she saw the blue light flickering. It seemed to take a second to digest her statement, then replied in that sonorous tone:
“Truth confirmed. Non-lawbreaker detected. Go about your business, citizen. You. Are you a lawbreaker?”
The [Thief] groaned.
“House Terland. Look, technically, in this city I haven’t broken any laws.”
That didn’t work on the Golem. Its eyes flickered.
“Evasion detected. Apprehending!”
A huge hand seized the man and pulled him from the ground. Zevara had to release her Skill as the Golem hoisted the [Thief] over one shoulder. If she hadn’t, his foot would have been ripped off his body. A Golem’s mistake. The [Thief] dangled there, swearing.
“Wonderful. First Drakes, now Golems!”
Why did he know Golems so well? Zevara was stunned by this alternative form of the Watch—until she heard more Golems tromping this way, and a voice she knew spoke.
“I thought I recognized a familiar face. Watch Captain Zevara, you have a splendid thousand foot dash in you. I’m quite taken.”
Lord Xitegen Terland and his bodyguard of Golems gazed down at Zevara as she straightened up. The new ruler of Celum was quite amused as he eyed Zevara up and down. She swayed on her feet, but gave him a brief salute.
“Lord Xitegen, I apologize for the inconvenience. I was pursuing—”
“Yes, yes. I have ears. This is the first time someone’s run into Celum avoiding a crime. I’d thought that Gnoll at the door would stop it. What did he steal?”
She knew Xitegen, and he was a brave man who’d gone up against the Goblin King, but he was still a foreign [Lord], so Zevara warily indicated the stolen piece of the bicycle. Xitegen raised his brows and nudged it with a foot.
“Ah, this is that machinery stuff my [Golem Artificers] like. My, my. And you would be…”
The [Thief] had frozen up at the sight of Lord Xitegen, but now, he hissed.
“Lord Terland. I’m, ah—ah—my ring. It’s on the ground.”
The [Lord] frowned at him, then inspected the ring that Zevara had dropped when the Golems arrived. He bent down, snatched up the obsidian signet, and grunted.
“Well now. Of course you are. And you troubled the Watch Captain of Liscor herself to chase you down, you idiot?”
He slapped the man’s back, and the [Thief] groaned.
“It was just chance she came by when she did! Lord Terland—”
“Lord Xitegen, that is my prisoner, and I intend to take him back to the Watch House and charge him for vandalism and theft.”
Zevara was panting as she eyed Xitegen. She didn’t like the way the [Lord] had focused when he saw the ring. Xitegen glanced at Zevara, this time sympathetically.
“Watch Captain, I admire anyone who can run down someone like that. However, you did chase this fellow all the way into Celum. My city.”
She had a bad feeling already, and it intensified when he said that.
“Yes, Lord Xitegen, but I—he stole in Liscor, and he broke the law!”
“True. Did he hurt anyone? Endanger anyone?”
The [Lord] of House Terland’s eyes went suddenly cold, and the [Thief] began to protest that he hadn’t. Xitegen glanced at Zevara, and when she grudgingly shook her head, he shrugged.
“Politics, then. My city, my rules.”
“What? But he—”
“I’m sure this man will be arrested if he returns to Liscor. But I know who he is and most of this silly story. If anything, I apologize to you for his trouble. Golem, put him down and de-list this man as a criminal.”
“Acknowledged, Lord Terland.”
The Golem put the [Thief] down, and the man straightened his clothes. He looked like he couldn’t believe his luck. He smirked at Zevara and opened his mouth to say something—Lord Xitegen grabbed one ear.
“Argh! Lord Terland—”
“Take yourself to Invrisil and out of my city. And a bit of courtesy towards the Watch Captain—in the form of silence. Someone, get this Drake a refreshing drink of water.”
She was fuming as Lord Xitegen shoved the [Thief] away. She stared daggers at him as he scrambled to get his things and hurry away. He almost reached for the bicycle part, but one look from Lord Xitegen and he scampered instead.
“This is a dereliction of the law, Lord Xitegen!”
She snapped at him, knowing she had no way to do anything to him. The [Lord] merely put his hands behind his back.
“Perhaps, Watch Captain, but I remind you that anything underhanded, unprincipled, and otherwise unscrupulous we Humans do…is just as common in your principled cities. That man had the right ring; I daresay if it wasn’t me, he would have gone with you or spent a night in our jails. I doubt he was there for any crimes beyond petty theft.”
“A crime is a crime.”
“But not weighed equally. I do apologize, for what it’s worth.”
He gave her a direct look then, and his personal Golem offered her a drink. Zevara hesitated, but then gulped the cool water down and exhaled smoke. He just eyed her mouth.
“Do you have a furnace in your lungs, Watch Captain?”
“Dragonbreath. I breathe smoke as well as fire.”
“And you still ran down a man like that? You are a tenacious one, Watch Captain. I’d ask if you wanted to work for me in my city, but I think you’re not in the mood for jokes. My, my. Liscor only gets more valuable these days.”
He sighed as he rubbed his nails on his jacket. She squinted her eyes at him. He was turning away, clearly thinking that they’d said all they needed to. She was left without her perpetrator, wheezing for air—Zevara called at his back. It was just a spur of the moment.
“You…wouldn’t happen to know a Lady Cecille Reinhart, would you, Lord Xitegen?”
He paused, and his face was more troubled when he turned back to her.
“Lady Cecille Reinhart’s in your city?”
“Yes. Is she an…upstanding woman in your opinion?”
Lord Xitegen stared up at the sky, then fixed Zevara with a direct gaze.
“Unless it’s murder or something as unpleasant, I’d leave her alone, Watch Captain. Whatever she’s done, she’s a Reinhart. They don’t listen to Watch Captains. She’d watch herself in my city, but not yours.”
He turned and strode away. What she’d done, not if she’d done something. Zevara groaned, then, footsore, she began to hobble back to Liscor. She was already in a bad mood before Liska asked her for the door fee for going both ways. Then Sergeant Relc was waiting for her with even better news:
“Venim wants to see you.”
——
Watch Commander Venim had some sympathies for Zevara and offered her a seat. He gazed at her as she winced her way into a chair.
“Forty-five minutes of running must have been, what, at least five miles of pursuit? You ran down a petty [Thief] through two cities, Watch Captain.”
“And the Lord let him get away!”
Zevara pounded the armrest of her chair, and Venim shook his head. He seemed sympathetic to her, at least.
“Humans. I’m sorry you lost him, but at least Trader Beneckham is grateful. That bicycle is expensive, or so he tells me.”
She just sagged in her chair as Venim coughed.
“Er…not quite the restful day I was hoping you’d take, Watch Captain.”
“I was investigating some thefts, Venim. And I’m no closer to the answers about them than I was before!”
Merchant Yerham was involved in something, but he’d denied the damn truth spells directly. So had Cecille Reinhart. Venim glanced at his office; there were people in the antechambers. Official-looking Drakes, probably about the Lyonette thing with the inn.
“I just wanted to know how the chase went, Watch Captain. I admire your tenacity…though a Watch Captain doesn’t need to chase every petty [Thief] down in the street.”
She nodded at the implied reprimand.
“I don’t intend to do that again if I can help it, Commander.”
“Good! We need you leading—especially since we’re looking bad with that theft. The Brothers of Serendipitous Meetings do have those gems, and Watch Captain Ronss and I agree they’re pushing their luck. Not in our city. I’m having him put together a plan of action you may wish to be in on—but the inn is taking just as much time.”
Venim’s words made Zevara perk up a bit. She appreciated not being kept out of the loop—she stood, wincing on her blisters, and nodded to him. She was hobbling towards the door when he called out.
“Agent Hissl and, uh, Moass? Apologies for the disruption.”
A nondescript pair of Drakes loitering by Venim’s [Receptionist]’s desk turned, and Zevara froze slightly. Wait.
“Excuse me. Did you just say—Commander Venim, I’d like to have a word with these two.”
The two Drakes, one stout, one thin, appeared as nondescript as Zevara could name for what she assumed were Eyes of Pallass agents. One had greenish-yellow scales, the other had faintly blue-green. They seemed competent to her; she knew they were armed, and the stouter one blinked.
“I’m Moass, and this is Hissl. Can we help you, Watch Captain?”
“I—yes. I wanted to ask about your proximity to some Antinium regarding some thefts.”
Zevara was fumbling for a truth stone as Venim got up from behind his desk. He shot her a warning glance as Moass’ brows rose.
“Thefts? We were certainly in the proximity of several Antinium over the course of our visit to Liscor, but no more than that, Watch Captain.”
The truth stone didn’t shine black or white at this. It didn’t shine at all, in fact. Zevara blinked at the two as she cupped it in one claw of her hand. Then she thought—Eyes of Pallass.
Damn.
A [Merchant], a [Lady], and two Agents of Pallass. All three groups could evade or deal with truth stones far better than regular civilians. Worse—Commander Venim was beckoning to her.
“If you could keep your questions short, Watch Captain? I might need one more word, gentlemen.”
They nodded at him, and Zevara knew she had only one question—she locked eyes with Hissl.
“The Antinium was stolen from shortly after your visit, and there have been a spate of other thefts in the city, agents. Is there anything you can tell me?”
“Hmm. Only that we’re happy to be questioned if a Drake was the culprit. It wouldn’t do to tarnish our city’s reputation.”
Hissl replied in a soft, direct voice. Zevara shook her head.
“It wasn’t a Drake.”
“Ah, well then, we didn’t observe anything unusual.”
“Besides the Antinium.”
“Of course, besides them. Your people have thicker scales than we do, Watch Captain. It’s…unsettling to see them walking about like it’s normal.”
Hissl grimaced, and Moass rolled his shoulder and shuddered. Zevara sighed. That was just what any Drake visitor said. She saw Venim beckoning and closed the door to his office.
“Watch Captain, are those two Drakes suspects in some crime? Because if they are, this is a matter for Pallass! They’re agents of some kind—”
He was clearly worried. She explained the Antinium theft case and saw his brow wrinkle up.
“Antinium thefts…? A Drake wasn’t seen stealing from them, were they?”
“No, just Humans. But they were right there when—”
“Ah, good, good.”
Venim relaxed and nodded to the door.
“If you have to talk to them, be my guest. But they’re here on the business of the Walled Cities. You know, they have the right clearances. They were asking about the inn—it happens. They just walk in sometimes, and you answer questions. I’m sure you know what that’s like.”
He heaved a huge sigh. Zevara frowned at him. She had indeed been given clearance codes and been told to report everything at times, but…she glanced at the door the two Drakes had closed behind them. Hissl and Moass.
“That high?”
“As I said, sometimes you run into them in the Walled Cities. I assume everyone in there is the Eyes of Pallass or working for a [General]. So…if they’re not involved with anything serious?”
Zevara only had them as witnesses and said as much, so Venim dismissed her again. But she lingered in the [Receptionist]’s area while the two marched into the door.
“Excuse me…”
“Yes, Watch Captain?”
The Drake [Receptionist] was very good at her job, and Zevara glanced at the shut door.
“I’m just curious. Can you place Hissl and Moass—”
She tried not to smirk, and the Drake covered her own mouth.
“—uh, on a sheet for me? I just need their days of entry and exit to Liscor.”
It was just a hunch, and she frankly suspected the Humans more, but the Antinium thefts this month had been in the dozens, and if she could just see if they’d come a few days ago, they’d not be involved with this. The [Receptionist] instantly pulled up a sheaf of papers, rifling through her cabinet with amazing speed.
“[Locate Entries]…here! And [Data Search: Moass]. Oh my, Watch Captain, I’m trying not to laugh. Let me just—hmm? Wait a second, they’re not on the entry list this month.”
“Huh?”
The [Receptionist] had Skills, which she had employed with practice, but now she fumbled the papers.
“They’re not here this month…let me check last month. No…no…[Data Search]…they’re not in any of Pallass’ entry/exit records. We have to keep every name on the list, Watch Captain!”
“That’s…”
Zevara froze as the door opened, and the two Drakes emerged, holding folders marked with confidential colors. She acted casual until the two marched out with nods to her, and then she turned.
“Commander Venim—”
This time, he seemed mildly put upon when she stuck her head into his office. But when she relayed the problem, he just sighed.
“Oh, that. It’s nothing insidious, Watch Captain. They’re just…not on the lists.”
“What?”
He gave her a pained look.
“I said those two had the clearance. They go everywhere. I don’t imagine that the Pallass [Guards] would have stopped them, do you?”
Not with the right papers, but they had better be damn good papers. Even Magus Grimalkin got in trouble for walking in and out of the inn without authorization! Zevara opened and closed her mouth.
“But we have to track everyone, Watch Commander! If not, then what’s the point…?”
Venim’s expression grew more aggrieved.
“It’s how it works in Pallass, Zevara.”
“This is Liscor, Venim.”
She saw him blink at her, genuinely surprised by the force of her retort. He hesitated—and it was Zevara who caved first.
“I’m sorry. I’m footsore, and…I just wanted to exclude them from needing more questions. No Drakes did any of the thefts, anyways.”
He nodded at her.
“Understandable, Watch Captain. If you need something from them, they might pop back in my office. And if they are Eyes of Pallass, well, frankly, I doubt they’d ever be caught committing a crime. They’re the kind of Drakes who do—anything. You know?”
The Drake was uncomfortable. Zevara swallowed. Black ops, sabotage, assassinations—
“I heard the Eyes of Pallass were the best in the Walled Cities.”
He smiled with faint civic pride.
“Probably. But even Manus has their own agents. Half of them have rings to make themselves invisible, to fly, change their appearances…I was on the 9th Wall and had six trying to sneak past us on some kind of training exercise. Wasn’t that a mess when I tried to sound the alarm—but I’d have been demoted otherwise, I suspect. Chaldion kept everyone on their toes.”
He sighed and shook his head. Zevara nodded and just stood there, swaying. Then she hobbled off for a bath house. Relc parted ways with her there; he was better than she since he’d lost the [Thief] and then just had to wait for her to come back.
“Hey, we got one [Thief]. Just a hundred thousand more to go, Zevara! I’m gonna take a bath with my sweet Archmage.”
He grinned at her, and she tried not to glower. At least he had love, as crazy as the woman in question was. She got a bath after paying for a private tub, then went and slept in her lonely apartment.
——
Zevara opened her eyes in the middle of the night. She couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned and then dressed, and she stomped her way down to the Mage’s Guild which was always open.
The junior [Mage] on duty gave her an odd expression when she asked to send a [Message] to a noble house, but he had all the crests. She scanned them until her eyes fell on part of a sigil she knew she’d seen before.
There it was. Tongs, hammer, wand. Part of a larger crest of…
“The House of El.”
So that’s why Xitegen had let him go. What the hell were they doing in the city?
——
The next day, Zevara was limping so badly that when she rolled out of bed and her feet touched the ground, she almost whimpered. She would have given anything for a healing potion, but no one could afford to use them for all the aches and pains of day-to-day life.
In fact, sick days for the Watch were up like 6000% or some insane number; no longer could people heal cuts, bruises, or mend torn muscles. It used to be that only disease would put you down.
She refused to call into work today; Relc was here bright and early, and it turned out to be an important decision. For one thing, she found a nervous [Guard] waiting for her with Beilmark.
“Zevara, you haven’t lost your touch.”
Beilmark winked at her as she sipped some fresh coffee. Zevara grabbed a cup.
“You mean making an ass out of myself by chasing a [Thief] only to have Xitegen let him walk away?”
“You inspire everyone else. Seeing a Watch Captain chase down a [Thief] makes the city trust us. I heard from Relc you wanted a word with my [Guardsman]? Cossl was reassigned to my district, but he was working the Antinium streets.”
“Yes, Watch Captain! I mean, Watch Captains! Did I do something wrong?”
Cossl was very young and very nervous. One look at him and Zevara’s suspicions from yesterday faded; he didn’t seem crooked. Beilmark was acting innocent, but one side-eye said she knew this was some kind of matter; Zevara asked simple questions.
“Guardsman Cossl, why didn’t you report the Antinium thefts?”
“The what? The—oh! Well…most of them were petty crimes, Watch Captain. Objects of no real worth, and they were runoffs. How do we chase that or ‘some Human’ if I put it down in my reports?”
Cossl blinked and then instantly recalled the incident. Zevara sighed; she’d suspected as much. With any other kind of civilian, it made sense; petty thefts were inevitable, and if the Watch wasn’t right there…
“It’s because they’re Workers that it matters, Cossl. The Antinium need focus on them. I’m surprised other Antinium patrols didn’t notice the issue.”
He seemed hurt at that.
“Watch Captain! We weren’t slacking on the job! Sometimes we did find the objects that got stolen. The thieves chucked ‘em when they realized they were no good. Dolls and small things like dried flowers or books n’ stuff. We ran it all through Senior Guardsman Lens! He probably filed it all under his name.”
“You did?”
Oh. Of course some of the Antinium had gotten their stuff back. Cossl assured Zevara that Lens had overseen the matter. She dismissed him and sagged.
“Maybe this isn’t as bad a problem as I thought. Sorry, Beilmark.”
The new Watch Captain gave Zevara a sympathetic eye.
“Hrr. I think it’s fine, Zevara. I was just curious so I came along, yes? If enough Antinium were stolen from that you had dozens of those still missing their things…that’s bad, yes?”
“If it were Drakes or Gnolls, it’d be statistically insignificant. Crime’s come to the Antinium—it’s just that this group seems to be targeted by Humans.”
“Or a few specific Humans.”
Relc was busy at work with his documents, and Beilmark and Zevara were so amazed by the sight they gazed at him, hypnotized for a second. Zevara nodded.
“Or a few of them…but the witnesses we interviewed all passed truth stones. Well, except Hissl and Moass, and they weren’t suspects to begin with.”
Beilmark choked on her coffee.
“A Drake is named Moass? Seriously? I thought Noass was the only one.”
Zevara wasn’t in a ha-ha mood about it. She growled as she ran her claws down her neck spines.
“We might have to toss this one back on the dead crimes list, Relc. I just don’t…have any more leads. Or we hassle Merchant Yerham again.”
Relc seemed only too happy to bother him, but Beilmark shot Zevara a warning gaze.
“I think today you’ll be too busy for that, Zevara. Didn’t you see the report on your desk?”
She’d thought she was being made to work less. Zevara headed up to her desk and found a priority missive from Venim. When she came down, cracking it open, she blinked.
“Ancestors!”
Relc and several [Guards] glanced up, and Zevara read through the orders and then swore.
“I need four squads of [Guards] to put on heavy gear! We’re busting a den!”
There was a rumble through the Watch House, and Relc blinked. Busting a ‘den’ or rattling the coop, however you wanted to say it, was code for taking on criminals in their element. A warehouse or a gang’s headquarters—
“Which gang?”
“The Brothers of Serendipitous Meetings.”
Zevara felt a bad twinge in her stomach when she said it. She met Beilmark’s gaze, and the [Watch Captain] nodded tightly.
“Watch Captain Ronss had an informant tip him off where the gems were, I heard. Venim gave him the all-clear to lead a raid.”
“That’s fast work.”
Of course, the gems would be sold if they didn’t move fast, but Zevara hesitated. She rested her claws on the table as Relc got up, sighing.
“Oh boy, and here I thought my desk work would be boring. Where are we going, Captain? I might need some coffee after all.”
“Not you, Relc. It says to leave you in charge. I’m going—Beilmark’s staying in her district.”
Relc blinked and turned to Zevara.
“What?”
That’s what Zevara wanted to know too.
——
Why hit the Brothers of Serendipitous Meetings?
No, the answer was obvious. They’d stolen a lot from the Jeweler’s Guild. Obviously, the Watch needed to recover the goods and stop the gang from running rampant.
But on the other hand—Zevara was the Watch Captain of Liscor. When she’d been in charge, she had gone head-to-head with a lot of threats. Soot, monsters like Skinner, Erin Solstice—but she also knew when not to poke the Mothbear.
She had never arrested Soot outright or gone after his gang on the streets. Because that was a war. In the same way, she’d once arrested Erin, a proud moment, but she had never taken The Wandering Inn to task as hard as some people wanted.
Because…it was the inn. It had possessed defenders ranging from adventurers to Hobgoblins, and she’d always known it was more of an asset as a dubious ally or independent party than enemy.
In the same way, Zevara knew the Brothers. Not wholly; they were a northern gang, but she knew their reputation. They were a tough, tough group. And she thought this was a bad decision and said as much when she met Ronss.
“Why no Relc, Ronss? And are you sure you want to take on the Brothers?”
Senior Guardsman Ronss—or rather, Watch Captain Ronss was a fiery Drake without the Dragonbreath. He gave her a wink as four more squads from his district mustered up. With two from Venim, that made ten—eighty [Guards] mustering down streets, ready to box in on the warehouse in the northeastern district that was the turf where the Brothers were.
“Come on, Captain Zevara. Sorry, Zevara—I’ll have to get used to that! You once took out an entire base of Soot’s goons with Relc and Klbkch back in the day.”
“That was because we had them on kidnapping, extortion, and murder and we knew Soot’s heavies were in there. And that was with our golden duo—Venim said specifically not to have Relc.”
Ronss nodded, adjusting his helmet. They had on half-plate armor, his squad, on some, chainmail on the rest. Zevara only had on her regular leather gear, but she was faster in it. In tight spaces, you might want that speed.
“I would have called up Relc, but Venim said he wanted to send a message. Relc’s our secret weapon, but [Thugs] need to fear Liscor’s Watch, not just him!”
There was a logic to that; Soot and his folk had never feared the other [Guards] half as much as Relc and Klbkch. Even so…Zevara leaned in towards him.
“Ronss…have you ever seen a Brother fight?”
“Nope. They just tip their hats and wave. Innocent as can be. Annoys the hell out of me, just as much as you, right, Zevara?”
He spat to the side, and she frowned at him.
“I heard five of them took on just as many Draugr during the Winter Solstice. Tekshia Shivertail fought with them.”
Ronss sombered a moment.
“Well, that’s our Guildmistress for you. I heard she bailed them out, though.”
“She did…”
“Well, we’ll be nicer to them, but they’ve got the jewels in that bar. Brewman’s. I got a tip-off and moved when I heard it. Let me take point on this one, okay? You’re the Watch Captain everyone knows. I need this.”
He gave her a look, and she hesitated. Everything about this made sense, and yet her gut said…hold on. But she didn’t want to argue with him in front of the [Guards].
She should have. Instead, she took a step back and nodded to him, and Watch Captain Ronss gave the order. The Watch marched down the street, and the civilians who hadn’t already made themselves scarce left in a hurry—or gathered behind to watch.
They surprised the hell out of the Brothers of Serendipitous Meetings. That was what shocked Zevara; she saw a few men with hats ambling down the street as they came marching in ranks. The Brothers even gave them friendly nods and asked what was going on—when they realized where the Watch were heading. She saw them freeze, then go running back the way they’d come.
“Strange. You’d think they’d be on high alert with the gems.”
She commented, and Ronss grunted, but he shifted his shoulders and fiddled with his club. He didn’t like that either.
“Stay tight. Guardswoman Jerci, smell anything?”
Zevara’s head snapped around, and to her dismay, she saw Jerci in one of the squads with regular [Guards]. Damn, she’d approved squads but forgotten who was on that list! She wasn’t ready for…no, she was a full [Guardswoman] now. At least the rookies weren’t here!
“Nothing, Watch Captain.”
Ronss cast a glance at Zevara, and she gave him a nod. Nothing wrong with how he was approaching things.
“Good. Then we’re moving forwards. There’s the bar.”
Brewman’s Bar was a small place in the northeastern district along some of the streets with huge kilns for [Potters]. Zevara recalled it being a trashy sort of place where decent booze was found despite the appearance of it—it had clearly changed since her last visit.
The Brothers of Serendipitous Meetings must have bought out the bar and parts of the street, because they’d ‘smartened up’ the area, as it were. That meant a fresh coat of paint on the doors, glass windows—this area used to have a decent amount of crime, but it seemed fresh-swept!
“Damn, but they really do like to polish up whatever they infest.”
Ronss muttered. Zevara nodded, eyes flicking to the closed doors of houses and shops. She saw people peeking out at them, clearly afraid this would interfere with their lives.
“They keep the law in their own way. I count maybe twenty in the bar. How many do you think are around?”
“I was told forty, fifty tops. And that’s if they’re not out. We outnumber them at least two to one.”
Ser Normen was a former Brother. But how good were they at fighting, really? Even if they were, when it was against the Watch, most times a gang would let their own get arrested. Killing a [Guard] was far worse than getting tossed up for a bit of a scrap.
What rattled her was the clear confusion of the Brothers. A dozen men were pointing their way, arguing, and the rest were striding around inside. They did not seem like they’d expected this.
Overconfidence? Watch Captain Ronss halted down the street as six men with hats came strolling out of their bar.
“Watch Captain. Watch Captains. How can I help you this fine morning? A bit too rainy to be going out all dressed up, but that’s just my opinion.”
A fellow with orange hair and clubbed ears nodded to them. He wore a top-hat which looked silly, but he somehow pulled it off with his thick brown woollen coat and brown tweed pants. He still appeared a bit silly, but like a working man with a passion for headwear. There was a bit of silver ribbon tied around the base of the hat; for some reason, that struck Zevara as classy.
The rain pattered off Ronss’ armor as he barked at the leader of the Brothers.
“We have a credible source that puts your gang as the group that stole from the Jeweler’s Guild two nights ago, mister. By order of the Watch Commander, I am searching your premise and putting anyone resisting or associated with the theft under arrest!”
Not how Zevara would have run it, but good enough. The Brother pursed his lips as the others behind him exchanged long looks of chagrin, alarm, and, Zevara saw, amusement.
She didn’t like that. It grew worse when the man adjusted his hat and sighed.
“Watch Captain, I’m afraid there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding, as happens now and then. That business with the Jeweler’s Guild—terrible thing. Couldn’t have happened to a greedier lot, says I, but a crime’s a crime, innit boys?”
They nodded as he hooked his thumbs in his belt. The Brother smiled at Ronss.
“Thing is—we’d be happy to let you into this bar and search. Because there’s no gems inside. If that’s the, uh, thrust of your inquiries, we’ll oblige right now, all proper-like.”
“What?”
Zevara saw several [Guards] mouth the word, and Ronss’ eyes narrowed.
“Really? We have the bar surrounded from all streets. And if you think you can disappear through the sewers—”
“Watch Captain. The gems are gone. Assuming I was admitting they were here at any time, they’re gone.”
The man with the top hat spoke over Ronss, and now Zevara realized what that bad feeling in her stomach was. She spoke up from behind her squad.
“Let’s say I believe you, sir. Just…when were these gems gone? Hypothetically speaking.”
He tipped his hat to her, eyes bright, but his voice was as serious as his eyes as they flitted to Ronss, who was beginning to purple.
“Hypothetically speaking, if I were the sort of man who were unscrupulous—and I’m not saying I am either way or not, Watch Captains—I’d be a great big fool to keep something as incriminating as gemstones in a bar, wouldn’t I? I reckon—and this is just me speaking out my hat—I reckon that the moment anyone took something so precious, it’d be sold right off. That very night.”
Ancestors. Zevara closed her eyes for a second. That was tidy work. How did they do it?
The inn. She just bet that a few men with bags of holding could slide straight through the door and into Invrisil. Liska would never check, and Erin was friendly with the Brothers.
The gemstones weren’t here. They probably had been here—for a few hours! Ronss was piecing things together as fast as Zevara, and she heard him growling curses as she edged over.
“Ronss. Ronss, who the hell gave you that tip?”
“Some contacts I know of! You know, informants.”
Zevara had a sudden thought and narrowed her eyes.
“Was it Barman Bobble or one of the old gang?”
His hesitation said all she needed to know.
“They hate the Brothers, Ronss! Whomever sold them out pointed us at them—but they don’t have any gems!”
And the gems were the bloody knife in the crime scene, the reason it would be worth tangling with this gang. The tophat man seemed to have come to the same conclusion, because he called out to Zevara.
“Seems some unscrupulous fellows—or ladies, we can’t discount them—wanted the two of us to have a little mixup, as it were, Watch Captain. Bit embarrassing for both sides, really. I’d offer the lot of you a drink, but I know you’re on duty. How about a firm handshake and we go on our ways? Be a shame to do someone else’s dirty work for them.”
“Especially on Lundas. Shame to get a busted nose on a Lundas.”
Another man with a hat said. He was barely eighteen and grinned—until the tophat man buffeted one shoulder.
“That’s no way to talk to the Watch. They have it hard enough, jobs as it is, keeping these streets safe. And fine streets they are too. Far more proper n’ most in the north.”
He was trying to be conciliatory. However, Ronss was piping mad, and he was growling under his breath.
“Those damn idiots—I’ll haul them into the Watch House for questioning! Stay where you are, you lot! You’re all going in for questioning under truth spell!”
He barked, and the tophat man froze ever-so-slightly. Zevara strode over and gripped Ronss under his forearm.
“Ronss, what the hell are you doing? You heard him—there’s no evidence!”
“We have evidence, Zevara. He just admitted what he did! We grab him under truth spell and we’ve got the gang, just not the loot!”
Ronss wasn’t thinking straight. He was mad, amped up, and he had pulled ten squads of [Guards] off patrol for this. If he had been thinking—Zevara whispered in his earhole.
“Ronss, half of them will have Skills to bypass truth spells. We won’t get all of them.”
“She’s right, you know, Watch Captain. I’m afraid I’ll walk away a clean man with all the effort said and done. I’d hate to put you to the inconvenience. Or embarrassment.”
The tophat man was listening to their whispers with a Skill of some kind. Zevara shot him an eye—his honesty wasn’t helping. Ronss was breathing hard.
“Ancestors damn it, Zevara, help me out here! They’re making fools of us! Venim entrusted me to make an impact!”
“Some days you look like a fool. Let’s go, Ronss. We can’t get them on the gem raid. Not right now.”
This was the moment she’d felt time and again—looking Mister Soot in the eyes when he swore on truth stones he didn’t know about a murder or a disappeared artifact and realizing he’d walk out a free Drake. It was frustrating, humiliating, and she’d experienced it too often to count.
Ronss hadn’t—not from the position of leadership. He glanced at the watching [Guards], and maybe it was that—or Venim talking about how Liscor would be a miniature Pallass. Or maybe it was just his temper talking because he said the wrong thing.
“Well then, we’ll pick up this entire group and shake ‘em until we get something that sticks. You’re all under arrest and investigation for multiple crimes in the city!”
Zevara felt her stomach drop when Ronss said that. The tophat man stopped smiling, and he blinked at Ronss, then her. Just blinked.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Watch Captain.”
He said that in a soft tone of voice. It was Ronss who snarled.
“Not enough Skills to hide that many lies, are there? Come on down to the Watch House, gentlemen. We’ll just ask you the standard battery.”
As in—all the basics. ‘Have you ever murdered someone’? ‘Have you committed a crime in the last X number of days?’ ‘Are you in possession of or aware of stolen goods?’
When you had truth stones, you could ask any question in the world, obviously, and get an answer. You just didn’t normally ask all of them because everyone had done something. Like in the Merchant’s Guild—don’t ask questions that fall outside of a specific investigation.
Asking the full range of questions meant you either had someone dead to rights or you considered them so suspect, so criminal, that you were going to dig. To be fair: sometimes you had to dig. Zevara had made Mister Soot go through that battery of questions time and again.
But it was one thing to do it to him, when he was the enemy of the Watch, and another to do it to a gang like this. The Brothers were regarding each other now, and the ones in the bar had gone still.
“Ronss, don’t do this. They’re going to fight. They have to fight.”
There was no way they’d pass enough truth stone questions, and they knew it. Ronss didn’t take his eyes off the man with the top hat.
“If they’re innocent enough, they’ll walk. What about it, sir? Not enough Skills to cover that up?”
“Not enough in the whole world.”
The man in the plain brown clothing murmured softly. He took his thumbs out of his belt-loops and exhaled.
“Watch Captain. I would listen to your friend there. Seems to me…seems to me someone wanted to make an example of things today. I don’t think you’ll get what you want if you continue things. Nor will we. Why don’t we step back and de-escalate matters?”
“You don’t give orders here. We’re the Watch, and this is our city. Drop your weapons and put your hands on your heads—hats. You’re all under arrest on suspicion of grand theft.”
Ronss shook off Zevara’s hand. He pointed a finger at the Brothers, and Zevara swore she heard a sigh run down the street. She stepped back, realizing a die had been thrown. Now it was rolling around in the gutter—
“Squads, spread out. Stay away from the doors, and don’t get separated.”
She raised her voice, and the [Guards] moved apart. The tophat leader just glanced at her, then Ronss, and then he raised his hands to his head. Gently, oh, so gently, he took the tophat from his head and inspected the silver ribbon. Then he tossed the hat to the ground.
The young man did likewise with a blue cap. Another Brother took off a bowler hat and flipped it into the air. Ronss stared, perplexed, as hats showered down to the ground.
“What the hell? I said put your weapons on the ground. Not—”
Zevara had been tensed, ready. But even she wasn’t prepared for the man who’d been wearing the tophat. He stared down at the hat lying in the rain, then his head snapped up. He didn’t draw a blade or a club—he just ran straight at Watch Captain Ronss.
“Ancestors—”
Zevara was drawing her sword when the young man who’d spoken up drew a pair of knives. He charged straight at the full squad of eight [Guards], screaming.
“[Freeze, Criminal]!”
She froze him, and he collapsed mid-leap, slapping into surprised [Guards]. They shoved him down and tried to cuff him. The paralysis Skill wore off as they were trying to wrestle his arms into cuffs. She saw him heave—and threw a Gnoll [Guard] off him. He lashed out, blades scything around.
“[Disarming Attack]—he’s got knives—”
“They’re coming out the bar! Incoming! On the left—”
Zevara was in the rear, watching the squads of [Guards] reacting as men without hats came out of the bar and side alleyways. She was holding her sword, the melee of bodies drawing closer, a familiar sight—until something hit a trio of [Guards] and tossed them like sticks through the air.
“Ancestors!”
A giant Brother, over six foot five and four hundred pounds, had just crashed through the Watch. He spun, and a haymaker knocked down Guardswoman Jerci, shield and all. He raised a foot, and Zevara shouted.
“[Non-Lethal Strike]!”
The Brother swept around so fast he was mid-charge when she exhaled flames all over him. He screamed, clawing at his clothes, and she stabbed him in the knee—
“[Sweep Leg]! Get up! Get up and reform the—”
Dead gods. She saw another group of Brothers throwing themselves out of an alleyway. They swung their clubs at a group of [Guards].
One, two, three, four—fast as the hammering of her heart. The [Guards] were swinging back, taking the blows on their armor, but the Brothers kept hitting, ignoring blows that cracked over their skin.
—Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen—a man was battering down a Drake’s guard. Hitting the helmet so hard it was deforming, battering down the falling [Guard]—
Zevara swung her sword, and he blocked; the blow took a huge chunk out of his club. He replied with a [Double Tap] that missed one strike and made her helmet shake. She kneed him in the groin hard. His eyes bulged, and she went to swing at one of his buddies—
His fist caught her under the chest and lifted her off her feet. Her ribs compressed, and she stumbled backwards. He was still coming at her? She’d hit him in the balls so hard—
[Impact Blow]!
She kicked him in the chest and sent him stumbling into another patrol. Then Zevara swung her sword around and executed another [Non-Lethal Strike] to his neck.
Down he went. Zevara saw a [Guardsman] struggling with a Brother punching so hard her leather shield was denting in. Zevara grabbed the shoulder and headbutted the man. He reeled—then his head came back.
She headbutted him again, and her head rang. But she had a helmet on! She drew her head back again, and the third time they collided, his eyes went up in his head. The [Guardswoman] could hit him in the legs and bring him down. Zevara grabbed the panting [Guard]—Jerci.
“Fall back! Squads, get in formation and fall back!”
This was going straight to Rhir. When she turned her head, she didn’t see any squads—just Gnolls, Drakes, and Humans fighting in the street. Only their armor and badges separated the Watch from the Brothers—and the Brothers were winning.
Zevara didn’t realize she’d grabbed her whistle until she heard it blasting out of her mouth. She was blowing a full alarm and heard more [Guards] doing the same. She shoved Jerci.
“Go! Grab anyone who can’t move and fall back to the main street!”
“But—”
A roaring man threw a Senior Guard at them and advanced on the two—Zevara spun and exhaled flames, aiming at his legs as Jerci dragged the Senior Guard to safety. He jumped the flames; she waited for him to land and stabbed through one foot. Then the other as he swung at her.
She stumbled forwards as someone punched her in the back of the head. Lights flashed, and Zevara whirled. She cast around and didn’t see the rest of the squads.
Ancestors. All she saw were either downed bodies or—Brothers. They were chasing the retreating Watch or coming her way.
She spat the whistle from her mouth and drew a truncheon with her other hand. Zevara flipped the heavy weapon up, then tossed it into the face of the first man sneaking up behind her. She opened her mouth, and flames sprayed the rest of them.
They leapt clear of that. Hatless men with too-bright eyes staring at her, blood on their fists, clubs and knives in hand. Street gangs. Not fine, funny men with hats.
Pure street. The kind who left blood on the Steer’s floors if you crossed them—they’d taken off their hats. Damn, damn—
She spat sparks and smoke this time, feinting with her sword, then whirled and slashed across a man’s cheeks. She drew a bloody line across his nose and cheek, but he grabbed her. She was on the ground, claws digging into his arm as he hammered a fist against her head. Then he was reaching for—
His head met her knee as she got a grip on him, and then she introduced his face to the ground. She kicked away from him and got up. Sword? Zevara saw a familiar head of orange hair coming her way. The tophat man charged, head-down.
Ancestors, he was so fas—
Author’s Note:
This is the Zevara chapter. Surprised?
Well, it was meant to be a combo inn-Zevara chapter, but as I wrote it, I realized it was more the Zevara part that was ‘ready’ and the poll chapter needed more work.
I have that one like 70% done, but it’s going to have to wait until after my break. This Zevara arc…I have waited for a long time to write and put on many polls, and she’s never won.
But the Watch Captain shall have her day. That’s the thing about important stories. I will write them eventually, and I have a lot of passion about Zevara’s tale.
I hope you enjoy this theme and chapter–expect the next part before I go on my break! Two things–we have that livestream on Tuesday, so be there or be square! Second, a reminder that I’m going to be away for two weeks in August to go to Iceland! I’m really looking forwards to it, and it’s on my bucket list of places to go, so I appreciate the opportunity to travel like this.
Last year, it was Puerto Rico, this year, Iceland. Doing these trips once in a while is a great privilege, and I hope it’s fun, though I hear it’s gonna be cold…anyways, for now, look forward to the rest of the Zevara chapter and hope you like the ambiance!
I hear it rains a lot in Iceland too.
The Unicorn’s Lament by Pierre and Dyskantor!
Zevara and Relc by Carbon!
Hatmen by Lanrae!
Trials of Zevara by Tatolord!
Calectus, Players, and Zevara by Gridcube!
Nanette Dance by Kaazhan!
Duck by XwriZ!
Relc and Valley by Guliver!
Valeterisa and Relc by Karu!
Crelers Dancing by Olento!
Tyrion and Pellmia by Nanahou!
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Toyhouse (Gallery): https://toyhou.se/Wanderer-Nanahou/art?page=1