“important. i need to talk with you. sly get me in there.” The kid outside cupping his hands in order to be heard, but his words barely audible inside the barrier.

“Rath?” Davos saying, in disbelief.

Thank you so much for this distraction.

“You know him?” says Lane.

“Yeah, he's one of, well, he was one of my guildmates.”

“Awfully noisy for a Thief.” Lane sighing. “He's going to break through if he keeps hitting it like that. I'll let him in, but he's your responsibility.”

Rath falling inward when the dome disappeared, and with him coming a blast of laughter, drunken revelry and a wave of heat from the bonfire. Making two quick steps before catching his balance, raising both arms in triumph, and then doubling over, panting from exertion. Lane reforming the sanctuary, cutting out all the noise and heat once again, with Rath watching the new dome fade to transparency in awe.

“I can't believe,” huffing and puffing, “I can't believe I made it in time. I've been running all over the city, and then I had to come up here.” Davos giving his seat to Rath and pushing over one of the half full drinks on the table. The kid downing it in two large gulps while trying to catch his breath.

“What have you been up to tonight,” says Davos.

“I'll show you. You won't believe me otherwise.” Rath displaying the cursed Stormhawk token from earlier. Is it the same one? The one from earlier had a bit of purple corrosion, but this one seems almost entirely engulfed.

“Okay,” says Rath, “I want you to flip a coin. I'll call it in the air.”

Davos beginning to look like he was beginning to regret indulging this whole situation, but complying.

“Heads,” Rath calling.

“...it's tails,” Davos deadpanning.

“Right, exactly.” Rath grinning. “And next flip I'll be wrong again. As long as I'm holding this token I can't win. Not coinflips or dice, or nothing.” Signaling for Davos to flip the coin a second time.

“The token is obviously cursed,” Owens taking the wind out of Rath's sails and stopping Davos short. “The aura and physical discoloration make that clear enough. But it's nearly consumed the item, and it'll burn itself out. Soon from the looks of it. You didn't come here just because of that, did you?”

“Uh, um, of course not,” Rath stalls, while working his jaw. “You're right, only one of these things wouldn't be an issue. But over at Sam's they've been handing these out to everyone betting on Karson or Sly for the finals. There's hundreds floating around.”

Owens and Lane exchanging a look.

“Let me take a look at it,” says Owens.

“Who was handing them out?” says Lane.

That sure got their attention, but make sure to get something up front before you tell them too much.

“Here.” Rath tossing the symbol over to Owens. “Some pretty girl wearing Stormhawk colors was giving them out. I don't have a name though.”

Or hand it over and let them know you don't really know anything at all. A valuable learning experience, Rath, you'll discover exactly how much gratitude is worth.

“It looks...” Owens peering at the corroded Stormhawk symbol, examining it from every angle. “It looks fairly standard. Chalky, anything you can see?” The demon taking it into its claws and gnawing on an edge.

“Holy-” Rath nearly falling backwards in his chair. “How long's that thing been, I mean, you should really let people know about that, that that thing's there.”

The demon chittering at Rath, with a different sort of cadence this time. Laughter, insults, both? After a solid ten seconds of hurling invective, the demon turning to Owens, giving a few short chirps and then dropping the token. Owens frowning thoughtfully.

“Hold on one second,” says Davos, after the moment of silence stretched out for a bit, “there are hundreds of these tokens, right?” Rath nodding in affirmation. “And they were being given out to people betting on me and Karson.” Rath nodding again. “And these things make people's luck go bad, so then we lose our fights in the tournament because everyone betting on us has bad luck, and then it somehow gets rubbed off on us. Is that even possible?”

“That's actually a great question,” says Owens, suddenly enthused. “If it did, it seems like it'd be confusing cause and effect, right?” The man turning to Rath. “Consider the coin toss. When you said heads, did the curse make the coin come up tails, or was the coin always going to be tails and then it made you guess heads, instead.” Rath giving a shrug. “Same thing with throwing dice, does it affect the dice themselves, or does it change how you are physically throwing the dice. It's an interesting theoretical question.”

Rath giving Owens a blank look, then looking at Davos, “Mac thought it might be possible.”

“Mac?” Davos shaking his head. “Mac's word ain't exactly gospel.”

Trying not to grind my teeth.

“Who's Mac?” asks Holly.

“Got to be Macarthy,” says Lane.

“Macarthy. Wait, shouldn't he be in jail? It was a dozen counts of murder, right?”

Fourteen. That job at House Haven really put things into perspective. What'd beard say earlier? Used up all his good luck, so now he needed to run through the bad. Eight month run of bad luck, there's got to be something good on the horizon.

“In jail?” Rath laughing. “No way. Mac busted out day one and he's been out these past couple months. They haven't even tried to capture him. Not like they'd have any luck getting him, if they did.”

They tried. They got the message real quick and stopped soon after.

“They haven't even tried to get him?” says Davos. “In that case, he musta taken a deal with Shaker. Makes sense what he's doing. He's not laying low, he's being a good little boy out on parole.”

A deal? With Shaker? That'd be the difference between me and rat fuck sellout like you. A deal like that wouldn't even be an option for me, they'd never offer. The man across from me taking a couple shallow puffs on his pipe, totally at ease and totally wide open. My hands clutching the arm rests on my chair in order to not to leap across the table and stab him right in his smug, lying face.

“Rath,” says Lane, “Let me say, in my official capacity, that House Stormhawk appreciates what you've done bringing this to our attention. Knowing that we're being targeted, and in this manner, is invaluable.”

“And if there are hundreds of these tokens,” adds Owens, picking up the corroded Stormhawk symbol, “one of the other Houses must be responsible. This one's almost fallen apart after probably a few hours. To make hundreds in such a short amount of time would take at least a dozen people working in concert.”

“And while this is important information,” says Lane, “for tonight, fortunately, it probably doesn't make a difference.”

“How's that?” says Rath, with a hint of caution.

“About an hour ago we got word from Director Shaker that the finals were going to be delayed, or even postponed entirely. Since we haven't heard anything since then, it's looking like the latter.”

No. No. Calm. Calm down. Total waste of time, materials, and an evening spent captive, forced to deal with these people, that's true. And the prize is out of reach, that's also true. But there are still ways to turn this situation around. There must be plenty of things they have laying around, and most of 'em are drunk as skunks. Wrap up this meeting, get grabbing while grabbing's good, and get out.

“Hey Phil,” says Holly, “Let me see that token, I want to check something.” Owens handing over the corroded symbol. “Hey, excuse me, um, Rath, was it? You said the girl was physically handing these out today, people didn't just get them from a bin, right?”

“They were being handed out. Why?”

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Well,” says Holly, “when you touch something, it leaves something. An imprint. For something trivial and inconsequential, like a random cup that you drink from, or this token, it only lasts a bit. Hours, maybe. For something more it can last days, or if it's something you truly cherish, months or even years. I'm going to see where this token's been today, put a name and a face to the person who was handing them out.”

Lane and Owens are also surprised. Glad it's not just me. Wait, she can see the people who touched the token? That may be a serious problem.

“That's incredible!” says Rath. “Please, if you can.”

Holly putting the token in her right fist and cupping her left around it. Starting to whisper a litany, each word growing in intensity, until the last, a word of power. Opening her hands and looking at the token. Before, her eyes had gone dark, looking away. Now, they were lit from behind, with a white glow.

“Lets see,” Holly began, “Hello. Yes, I know, every time. We're trying. Worrying won't solve anything. We know. Oh Phil,” Lazily looking up from the token at Owens, “you need to take care of yourself. So much stress, so tired, and for what? And then,” Her mouth instantly twisting into a scowl, and shooting the demon on the table a look of murderous hatred. Her mouth opening and a phrase of power pouring out. Another spell?

“Holly? What are you-” Owens saying.

The demon standing for a moment, transfixed. The creature falling sideways, dead, and then melting away, leaving an oily black smudge behind.

Holly, still in her trance, looking over at the shocked Owens. “I had to, I simply had to. You know why. Take better care of yourself, Phil.”

Lane glancing over at Davos and discreetly tilting his head toward Holly. Karson actually looking up from sharpening his weapon, seriously considering her for the first time. Rath nearly in as much shock as Owens.

“Jim,” says Holly, looking over at Rath. Stark terror filling his face.

“How adorable.” The woman giggling with childlike delight. “What a sweet boy. Do it. It's not as difficult as you think, and not doing it would be so much worse.”

The terror draining away when he wasn't turned into an oily black smudge. Davos looking back at Lane, who shook his head. Owens only watching her, expressionless.

“It's so busy,” Holly returning to inspect the token. “Looks like nothing outside and then down the stairs and through the,” laughing again, “oh goodness, how clever. And there's so many people.”

That's Sam's. Got to be. How much is she seeing? People and places. And she's gone really erratic, touched by their emotions. Thoughts, possibly?

“Hmm nothing, nothing,” Holly blinking repeatedly at the token. “What a seedy place. Rough. Oh, that's Macarthy, that's got to be him, our Master Thief. Wait, I've seen-”

Her head turning ever so slightly and her eyes flashing over to meet mine. Don't even try. Not going to end up a greasy spot on the table. It won't end well for you. Her attention snapping back to the token, searching intently. Or maybe she doesn't know, exactly. She knows something's up, but doesn't quite know what.

“He's so focused,” muttering to herself. “They're drinking and playing dice, and he's a million miles away. Did something, planned something. But what?” Staring at the token for another few moments in frustration but then shaking her head. “It's not enough, never mind.”

My grip relaxing on my knife's hilt.

“Need to keep following...” trailing off. “That's different, he's definitely one of them, but I don't think I've ever seen that.” Stopping again, puzzled, searching the token. “He's a warehouse worker. Longshoreman. Unloading a ship from Ossen. Heavy crates filled with volcanic rock. Back and forth. No, nothing there. Ah, there he goes, heading back, down the stairs. Even busier now. There she is. Found you.”

At her announcement, Lane and Davos leaning in expectantly. Holly studying the token for another few moments, and then the glow behind her eyes fading.

“Her name is Nora Stiles.” The name eliciting no reaction from anyone at the table. “She didn't handle the token for very long, so I don't know her house, or really much else. The trail was running cold before I found her and I got nothing after.” Owens staring at her intently. “Phil,” she says, in a tight, measured voice, “if we ever have one of these meetings again, don't you dare bring that horrible thing. I won't tolerate it. Anyway, since everything is moving so quickly I'm going to relay the terms of alliance right now and see if anyone knows Nora.”

The woman glancing at Lane, Davos, Rath and Karson in turn. Actively avoiding me. Beginning her chant, the same chant as earlier in the plaza, and with the last syllable uttered her pupils dilating and her face going slack.

She definitely knows something's wrong, she's checking in with her people to see what's going on. And this barrier's still up. It kept Rath out, so it'll probably'll keep me in. After a moment Davos began speaking, addressing Lane.

“Look, I know we're probably way past this,” he says, “but I don't see why we're doing this deal.” Looking at me. “Barnes, no offense, but you saw her, she's got a few loose. Nice face, decent rack, but a real pain in the ass. Am I right?”

When she comes back there's no telling what's going to happen. If it was just Lane, it'd be fine. Only Davos or Karson, doable. Both? Won't end well. Surrounded on top of that. Even if getting away from the table is possible, may still get slowed up and caught after the initial surprise wears off. The best option is probably talking my way out. Taking her as a hostage won't provide any leverage.

“You got to know I'm right,” Davos turning to Owens, “she killed your, um, your thing. Even Barnes isn't defending her.”

“Alright, that's enough,” Lane hitting the table with resounding smack and then pointing a finger at Davos. “If her information is correct she saved us a lot of trouble identifying this Stiles woman. I require competence, not perfection. That's why we took you in and that worked out just fine.” Davos starting to reply, but then shrugging. “And you,” Lane turning to Owens, “stop moping. You can get it back.”

“It's not going to be cheap,” says Owens. “Not in time, not in materials.”

“We'll cover it,” Lane acceding. “Cost of business.” Owens giving a nod, satisfied.

“Lane,” says Karson. Since Holly's outburst he hadn't returned to sharpening his weapon. “Are we done here? If we're not fighting tonight I'm going to get going.”

“Doesn't look like it's happening,” says Lane. “You've got the night off.”

Karson picking up giant his two-handed sword with one arm, slinging it over his shoulder, walking to the edge of the barrier, then through. Heading over to one of the kegs and filling himself a mug.

Looks like getting out isn't a problem. Very doable, now. When Holly wakes up should to gauge her reaction, see if- Trying to hold back the smile, then trying not to curse. Paranoia's healthy in small doses. But too much is paralyzing. Impersonated Barnes? Yeah, did that. Got into Stormhawk on false pretenses? Yeah, did that, too. But what's been taken, what's been stolen? Nothing, not yet. If she knows, and she comes clean, what's she stand to lose? Potentially this whole deal. It's not really in her interest to make a fuss.

“Um, so,” says Rath, raising his hand, “I was wondering, for bringing you the information...”

Lane looking over at Davos.

“Rath, you did good,” says Davos. “Real good.” Here comes the screw job. “What are you doing with yourself these days?”

“Well, you know, ever since the guild got shut down mostly small stuff, solo. Every now and then I go out with some of the guys from the Academy. I'm saving up to get something a little more permanent, but I've still got a long ways to go.”

“Mmhmm,” says Davos. “How much do you pull in during a given cycle. Roughly.”

“Maybe three, three-fifty.” Earning a pitying look from Davos. “Sometimes more.”

“Rath, bud, don't take this the wrong way but, man, you could be doing a lot better.” He's not wrong. “How about you join up with us. You'll get free room and board, and we'll guarantee two fifty a cycle.” Starvation wages, but with room and board better than what he's making right now. “And commission on everything you bring in.” That may be decent. “Schedule is two days on, one off. And today's payday, so you'll get two fifty in your pocket right now. What do you say?”

You should take it. Get your payday now and see how it goes. It's not like you're signing up permanently.

“That sounds good,” says Rath, “but I don't know...”

“I know you think Mac's been watching out for you,” says Davos. “But don't reject this out of some misplaced obligation to him. You're really struggling now and he's not helping you much, is he?” Not much for me to do, Not his mother. “Mac took everything real hard, things changed, and he didn't want to adapt.” That's called having principles, but you wouldn't know anything about that. You moved on basically the day of. You had to have known it was coming. “And where's he now for his trouble? House arrest. Don't be stupid. Don't be like Mac.”

Throw that offer in his face. Two fifty's an insult.

“You're right,” says Rath, after a moment. “It's a good deal. Yeah, I'll sign up.”

“Great.”

“Welcome,” says Lane.

“Good to have you,” says Owens.

Rath, damn it, that's the right call. But goddamn it.

“Alright,” says Davos, draping his arm over Rath's shoulder. “We're having a party tonight, so let's make this welcome official!”

A loud intake of breath from Holly drawing everyone's attention back to her formerly inert form. The woman springing back to life and looking directly at me, her eyes still solid black. Taking a quick scan of the others, then returning to me.

Last time it faded pretty quick but not now. Right now you're holding on taking in every detail for as long as you can. But you don't have any of your real friends with you here, now do you?

“Holly.” Impossible to hold back my smile. “Are we good?” It's up to you, babe. Let's leave it for now. You keep your deal and we all walk out of here.

“...yes.” Her response quiet and firm. Smart girl. Her pupils returning to their normal size. “I relayed the terms,” she says to Lane. “They're still discussing it but they seem amenable. I'll let you know in a couple days.”

“Good to hear,” says Lane. “Guess we're all set. Feel free to stick around, get some food or something to drink. Is there anything else you need?”

Holly demurring, and then Lane waving his hand to remove the sanctuary, causing heat and noise and frolic from the party to pour in. Holly getting to her feet and giving me an uncertain look. Owens and Lane starting to walk toward the entrance and Rath being led away by Davos.

Enough's enough and that's it. Nothing lost but nothing gained. A total waste. But all of them came out ahead - every single last one. This should be a familiar feeling by this point, but that doesn't make it feel any better. Squeezing the arms on my chair.

No. No fucking way. May have missed out on the tournament prizes, but lots of things are more important than money. The opportunity's here, not going to let it slip through my fingers. Time to get a little payback.

“Davos!” Screaming at the top of my lungs and knocking over the table for good measure. “Get back here.”