Almost at Ink's to get the second half of today's pay.
“Those things were crazy,” says Magpie. “You and Kate have it easy, flinging shit from a distance. Kate, by the way, that spell is awesome.”
“Yeah, that thing's brutal.” Wolfe turning away so we can't see her expression. “But yeah, they're not all that mobile, but when you're next to them you got the arms coming out of the one on the leg, and then you got the one that is the arm swiping down, with more arms coming out of it. My knife was not cutting it at all.”
“That's definitely a big part of the issue.” Magpie hefts her own.
“Do you still have that sword we found? Maybe you should change it up.”
“If we're going to be doing stuff like that,” she says, considering, “then I'll see if I can borrow it back from Hugh. I'll shuffle some stuff around and be switched over by next cycle. Maybe I'll try a sling, too, but they'll probably just laugh at rocks, even if they're magicked up.”
“Hopefully it'll be better. I've also been meaning to get an axe, and today's pay should do it. Oh, Kate, totally forgot to ask since I've been back, but how are you sleeping?”
“Much better. Both in here and out there.”
“Out there? That's right, you've got three off in a row. Evie is there anything you can do about that?”
“I could, if you want. I'll submit a form and it'll probably take a few cycles to get approved.”
“No, that's fine” says Wolfe, “I kind of like having a night out of here.”
“Really? I can't stand sleeping out there.”
“I don't have a problem with that - I'm plenty tired after a long day - but, I dunno, it sort of helps keep everything separate in my head.”
“I just like having three days off in a row,” says Magpie.
“That's why I like it,” says Riley.
The three of them looking at each other and having a moment of shared agreement. Then turning their attention to me.
“Well, you want to know what I think?”
“Mac, we know what you think.”
“I think you're all nuts.”
Riley snorting, Wolfe putting a hand over her mouth, trying to hold back, but Magpie having no such qualms. All of them joining in as a result.
“Lucy,” says Wolfe, after they had mostly recovered, “for the record, I am sleeping better, and I'm glad your schedule helps you sleep in here.”
Getting to Ink's and putting my hand on the doorknob. The usual smell normally contained within significantly more pungent and wafting through to the other side of the door. Turning the knob.
A young woman sitting the counter this time. Looks like they've done some interior decorating. Knocked out a wall.
“Ms. Macarthy,” says the woman, “Ms. Inkathius is busy at the moment, but perhaps I can help you.”
“Can I open a window?” The one next to the door for some reason isn't open.
“Of course.” Opening it. Which doesn't really help.
“Hey, Lucy.” Riley's voice coming from outside on the landing, “I'm going to wait out here.” Magpie and Wolfe indicating the same.
Looking at the woman. “I'll be right back.” Following after them.
“That is rancid,” says Riley. “I thought we left all that behind at the graveyard. Lucy, I'm really sorry, but could you please deal with that?”
“Sure. no problem.”
Opening up the bag, counting out the stones, mostly dull grey but one reddish with speckles. Taking a deep breath and heading back in.
“Ms. Macarthy,” says the woman, “what can I help you with?”
Limited air to reply with. “I got these.” Stones on the counter. Watching her open up the desk drawer and fish around for something. Pulling out a magnifying glass and beginning to inspect the stones. Getting a puzzled look on her face - Would you hurry up, already? - Inspecting some more. Putting one of the stones on a set of scales in order to measure the weight. Jotting something down on a piece of paper.
“Ms. Macarthy, I've got to speak with her about these. I'll be right back.”
Fast walking out the door. Precious air.
“We good?” says Magpie.
“Still waiting on them.”
“They've got to be wearing something so they can't smell that,” says Wolfe.
A short while later the door opening.
“Ms. Macarthy,” Ink yells from the stoop, “good to see you.”
“What happened in there?”
“Bit of an explosion this morning that totally knocked out our sense of smell. I assume it's still in the air?” All of us confirming. “Growing pains. I've got some contractors coming to expand the workshop, so I suppose I should make a point of adding in some better ventilation.”
“It's great to see you're doing so well.”
“Thanks to you, and with those specimens you brought today I should be able to do some very interesting things. Probably some demand in Cress for that kind of thing. Or, certainly, over in Ossen.”
“The Capital, too, I'd imagine.”
“Of course. There's demand for everything over on the eastern continent, but that's quite some distance away.”
“So how'd we do today?”
“One fifteen for the grey ones and, where'd you get that other one?”
“That was from a Nightmare that ended up wandering to a place it shouldn't have been.” Glancing at Riley. “You were really the MVP today for helping us deal with that.”
“You should try and find more of those,” says Ink. “Two oh five for that one.”
At the bank, making a small withdrawal, three gold, all that was needed to buy the axe after today's cut, between the stones, the flesh fetishes and the tail, still very warm to the touch. About to walk away from the counter, considering, and then getting two more.
“I'll see you later. Oh Evie, Kate, I forgot to tell you, but I'm not going to be able to meet up tomorrow. Shit, or really any day five for the foreseeable future. I got more work put on my plate.”
“Why, what's up?” says Wolfe.
“You're just dropping this on us now?” says Riley.
“I got assigned a partner for tracking down stuff for Ink. He seems pretty decent so far. I like him.”
“What you mean,” Magpie says, after studying me for a moment, “is you met a guy.”
“Yeah.” My carefree smile eliciting words of encouragement and congratulations from all three. “He's actually in Stormhawk, but so far he seems to be behaving himself.”
“Hopefully he's not behaving himself too much,” says Magpie.
“Just the right amount.”
“I want to meet him,” says Riley, “I'll get Jack to come. We'll go on a double date.”
“Maybe at some point. We're going to be real busy for at least a couple cycles.”
“So what are you doing tonight?”
“I'm going to head to the pawnshop to get my new hand axe, and then I'm going to test it underground.”
“Okay, but what are you doing tonight?”
“Underground.”
“Underground.” Her version of that word phrased somewhat different. “No, I don't think so. That's not how your evening's going to go.” Opening my mouth to rebut but Riley simply steamrolling over. “You need a break – you probably need it more than any of us – you're coming with us to the festival tonight. I'm not listening to any excuses.”
“You sure about that, Evie? What if I'm as annoying as I was the last time?”
“Thank you for reminding me.” Shaking her finger. “No smoking anything funny this time.”
“Yeah,” Magpie also shaking her finger, “especially not without sharing.”
“That wasn't why. The last time I was, um,” searching for an explanation while avoiding Riley's judgmental gaze, and catching sight of a man walking into the square from the south. From the caravan. A member of the Pact. “Kate, I need your help real quick.”
“Lucy, you probably shouldn't smoke that stuff in public,” she says.
“You're probably right. Listen, what we were talking about-” the man at this point already past us and continuing north further into the square. “Evie, I'll behave myself this time. Thank you for the invite, but I've got to go deal with something real quick. I'll meet you guys inside the pawnshop in like ten or fifteen minutes? Thanks, you're the best.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Not waiting for her to respond. Jogging, and then running, in the direction the man had headed into the crowd. Catching up and tugging on his cloak.
“Excuse me, sir?”
Glancing back. Slowing his pace and then coming to a stop in the busy square. Bags under his eyes, with an unkempt two or three day beard. Doesn't seem like he gives even half a fuck.
“Can I help you with something?”
“I was wondering if I could talk to you about about recruiting.”
***
“Lucy,” Riley slurs, holding out the current sample beverage she'd acquired from House Haven's kiosk, “hold this for a second. I've gotta go to the rest room.”
Another month, another street fair. Merchants, once again, calling out to the crowd to hawk their wares. Stands set up, once again, with games of skill and chance lining the busy streets. Theatre troupes and other entertainers, once again, taking the opportunity to show off their talent and dedication. All the ordinary accouterments of a typical street fair, but the Apple Festival different from the norm. Easily one of the most drunken, debauched celebrations of the year - only being beaten out by a couple of the others. And while cider is, by far, the most widely available drink of choice, it's merely one of many on tap.
Taking the cup from her as she staggers off with Everton. Whetting my lips, only to taste. Some kind of hoppy beer.
“Kate, I'm really sorry,” Magpie says, eyes drooping and her voice thick. “Can you help sober me up? I've got to help man our booth in like fifteen minutes.” Leaning a bit too much to one side, almost losing her balance, but being caught by Anderson, who'd come to meet up with her maybe an hour earlier.
Wolfe closing her eyes and muttering something. The audible words coming out of her mouth a moment later undoubtedly much less impatient. “I'll do what I can.”
“Kate, can you do that for me when I get back?” asks Walker, also firmly situated in the drunk category. Wolfe not even turning her head to acknowledge him, her hands remaining locked on Magpie. “Thanks babe, love you,” he says, before wandering off to join Everton and Riley in line.
“Hugh, do you think I could come with you guys? I'd like to see how everyone's doing.”
“I don't,” Anderson hesitating for a moment, “see why not.”
“You mind if I come, too?” says Wolfe, still concentrating on her work. “I've had about enough babysitting for one night.”
“I'm sorry, I seriously owe you,” says Magpie.
“I wasn't referring to you, Grace.” Concentrating for a moment more. “How's that? I can heal the damage it's done but I can't actually remove the alcohol from your body.”
Magpie balancing on one foot with only a slight tremble. “Much better. That's the second time you've saved me today.”
“Don't worry about it.” Wolfe waving her hand dismissively.
“Of course I'm going to worry about it! I owe you, and I'm gonna make it my mission to get you something to help turn your night around.”
“Don't worry about it.” Wolfe giving another dismissive wave of her hand, and then muttering something else under her breath.
“Kate,” Magpie says, “I know you're, like, ultra stressed right now. I know you can't drink.” Wolfe shaking her head. “I mean, I know it doesn't get you drunk so there's no point in drinking. Which really sucks, so all this around here isn't exactly your scene. I know you hate your job. I know-”
“How do you know I hate my job?” Magpie's comment, for some reason, really rattling Wolfe, and her disinterested facade breaking.
“It's, like, so obvious. Listen, I've been here longer than you, so I know way better how shitty this place is, so don't you,” Magpie giving a dismissive gesture of her own, “reject my help. Because, no matter what you think, in this particular instance, you don't actually know better than me. You've got to chill out every now and then or you'll end up going bonkers - and that's a fact.”
Wolfe staring at her. In her direction. But looking at something very far away.
“Excuse me, uh, Kate?” says Anderson, “I was wondering if you could help sober me up some, too.” Wolfe inhaling very briefly, then clenching her jaw. “Sorry to ask.”
“Kate, I owe you for today,” Magpie reiterates, “Twice now. So let me get you back. And, please, as a favor to me, see what you can do for Hugh.”
Wolfe giving another slight shake of her head. “Okay, fine,” she says, finally allowing some of her exasperation to vent. “I'm down for whatever.”
"That's great!"
“Yes, but later." Then addressing Anderson. “I'll do what I can while we walk over.” Turning her attention to me. “Thank you for not making my night any more difficult than it has been.”
“I'm on my best behavior. We ready to go?”
“One sec.” Wolfe jogs over to Everton, Riley and Walker, still standing in the line for the bathroom. Coming back. “Let's go.”
The four of us setting off in the direction of Ishtar's booth. Passing by House Mink's stand. Grabbing one of the many small cups filled with what turns out to be cider. Taking a small sip. Swapping Riley's former cup for the cider.
Coming up on what sounds like a heated, drunken argument. Getting louder. Two men in plainclothes, equipped with beverages. The one facing me slighter of build, but muscular. Think he was top sixteen this year. What was his name? Something or other. The other one, similar height, but probably twenty to thirty pounds heavier. A space starting to clear out around them. There's a push. A shove. Are they going to get to this already? No need for this bullshit posturing. Another shove. The one throwing down his beverage. Advantage lost. No, wait, getting into a stance. Let's see if this is a quick apology, or a knock-down, drag-out.
A good amount of space now cleared around them. The other one tossing his drink and sticking his hands into his pockets. Pulling out an ordinary set of brass knuckles, nothing pokey looking about them. He's got to know who he's fighting against, but those aren't deadly weapons so this may be a relatively friendly dispute. Who are you? Jumping to better see and catching sight of his face. Foster. He's a brawler? Probably only as a backup, he's got that giant axe. The other guy probably lost to him in the semis. Well, whoever's drunker is going to end up losing here.
Squaring up against each other, Foster in a boxer's stance and the other guy more sideways to minimize his profile. Some testing jabs at each other. Foster avoiding a straight kick. Pushing the other guy back with some punches. Blocking another kick and being pushed back himself. Foster trying to get inside to grapple but being clocked by a hook to the temple. A normal, non-enhanced punch from the looks of it. Definitely more of a friendly dispute.
Foster backing up some in order to regain his balance and getting close to a nearby merchant stall in the process. The next kick aimed his way being dodged, but the Monk's foot hitting the stall itself and blasting through the wood. Tearing it to splinters. The merchant inside the stall, a member of Windward, doing his best to scramble out of the way as the front starts buckling. Maybe they're not actually holding back and this isn't particularly friendly.
Foster blocking another straight kick, taking the impact with no apparent difficulty, and then stepping forward to deliver a haymaker. The Monk smoothly dodging and Foster's fist taking out one of the vertical supports on the stall, causing the whole thing to collapse to one side. The Monk countering with two solid jabs to his face, rocking his head back. Foster taking them like a normal punches, still on his feet, blood trickling from a now crooked nose. Raising his hands to better protect his head. Tough son of a bitch.
Foster moving in closer, probably trying to grapple, but a kick aimed at his knee throwing him off balance and opening his guard. Another hook punch connecting squarely with his jaw. Lights out. He'd made it to the finals, and had been one of the favorites to win this time around, but it goes to show picking a fistfight with a Monk is a losing proposition.
Continuing on. Passing by Melder's setup, but the man himself not present. Finally arriving at Ishtar's booth and seeing some familiar faces, but no Daniel among them. One guy, Greene, from my group during the trip, and two girls, Serena, all dolled up in an eye-catching outfit, and another one, unfamiliar, but a member of the Pact. There have been surprisingly few Pact members wandering around during the evening, but since Empaths do seem to make up a sizable portion of the group, it makes sense that they don't want to be anywhere near all this.
Hey, Tommy, good to see you. The guy glancing at the two girls with him, and then subtly returning my wave.
“You guys are off,” Anderson says, trying to divert Serena's attention away from me. “We're here to relieve you.”
“Why's Macarthy here?” From her tone it appears a few small details may have slipped out of the confines of Liz's office.
“Mac's gonna help me with the booth.”
“I didn't ask you.” Serena continuing to stare at Anderson, not even glancing at Magpie.
“Serena, I come in peace. I don't want things to be bad between us, and I'd like the opportunity to explain myself. If Daniel in, I want to talk to him, too.”
“Daniel?” The girl giving an unamused laugh. “He isn't in today, but I doubt there's anything he wants to say to you. And don't think I'm gullible enough to fall for any peace offering from you, Macarthy.”
“Grace wants her to help,” Anderson states, evenly. “And the Director's order was rescinded.”
“I'm sure she does. After all, they're birds of a feather, a thieving magpie and a corpse gorged crow.” Serena shifting her eyes between the three of us. “You don't actually believe it, do you, Hugh?”
“It's possible.” Anderson shrugs. So much for Liz's assurance of secrecy. It seems like they all know. “Letting her work the booth won't do any harm.”
“I see why you weren't all that upset about getting kicked out,” Wolfe says to me, while giving Magpie a concerned look.
“Fine,” Serena says, ignoring Wolfe's remark, “she can work the booth. Let some of her waitress experience at Sam's be put to good use.”
A waitress at Sam's? Looking down at my clothing. A waitress from the upstairs part, maybe. “I'm not working as waitress for Sam.”
“No need to be bashful about it. You clearly just got off your shift, or something. All you need's a pad of paper to start taking orders.”
“What's wrong with my outfit?”
“Nothing,” she smirks, “it suits you. You know something, Macarthy, after seeing you here tonight, I just want you to know that I'm not afraid of you. A lot of us aren't – not anymore – not of some has been waitress. And if you even think about trying anything, I'll light you up.”
Not afraid? She must've drank a decent amount to run her mouth this much. That sort of liquid courage can sometimes leave you feeling gutted later on.
“This isn't a waitress outfit.” The girl only scoffing at me. “I specifically designed it to be modest, cute and functional, and it succeeds admirably on all counts. I don't give a shit if you don't like it. If anything, I think you're trying a little too hard with your getup.”
Serena enjoys a tittering laugh. “When you got it, flaunt it," she says, as she pushes her tits out. “Envy is ugly, but that, specifically, I won't hold against you. And your outfit really does fit: it's perfect for a supporting second fiddle.”
“Lucy,” says Wolfe, pulling her attention away from Magpie, “it's not worth it.”
“Serena...” the other woman from Ishtar warns. Her eyes staying on Magpie.
Serena sparing her friend a glance before turning her attention to Wolfe. “And you're even call her Lucy. That is too rich. Seeing as we already have a magpie and a crow, I guess that makes you the braindead hen.”
“Serena,” Anderson says, “that's completely unneces-”
After her initial comment had been so rudely brushed off Magpie had lapsed into her typical, sullen method of dealing with Serena. Balling her fists and clamping her mouth shut. Only watching. Still, icy and hateful. Now, that stillness breaking, backing up two quick steps and then leaping over the table and jamming her thumb directly into Serena's left eye. Serena trying to back away, but stumbling and the two going down. Magpie, on top, not yelling, not screaming, not making any noise whatsoever, only focused on keeping her right hand latched and delivering body blows with the left. Serena, on the other hand, screeching and flailing, trying to to dislodge the thumb out of her eye socket.
“Grace!” Anderson and Wolfe yell in unison.
Some sparks of electricity briefly illuminate the pair before quickly going dark as Serena lets out a particularly pain filled sob begging for mercy. The scuffle, the essentially one sided beatdown, drawing some attention from the crowd, but only lasting a few short moments longer. Anderson and Greene pulling Magpie off, and Magpie, for her part, offering no resistance. More than satisfied with what she'd accomplished. Serena giving weak coughs and clutching the side of her face, expertly applied makeup all runny and smudged. Her friend kneeling down beside her.
“Lucy,” says Riley, coming up from behind and surveying the aftermath, “what did you do?”
“It wasn't me, I swear.”
“But you were involved, I bet.”
“Sometimes these things were always bound to happen, with or without my involvement.”
Serena getting helped to her feet and being led away, still covering her left eye. Wolfe had already joined Magpie inside the Ishtar booth, and her boyfriend heads over to talk to her. Anderson coming over to me.
“Uh, Lucy,” he says, looking somewhat conflicted.
“Do you mind if I help?”
“If you want.” Not looking any less conflicted.
“I'd like to. Evie, I'll catch you guys later?”
“We'll be around. Keep an eye on Kate for me, okay?”
“Will do.”