10

“So then I had to chase the fucker halfway through the RatHoles. I’m running, and I’m running, and I’m telling him when I catch you I’m gonna do this and I’m gonna do that, you know? I’m gonna take this and shove it there. I'm gonna rip your dick off and feed it to you. You know the usual. Keep in mind though, I can barely fucking breathe at this point and this fuck is still running. We hit the Sherbert building, those big yellow high rises, and now I got fucking stairs to deal with. Halfway up the third flight of stairs, and I think my heart’s about to fall out my arsehole. And then he just stops. Starts twitching and shit. I’m just grateful I don’t have to go up any more stairs. So I’m still threatening him, telling him what I’m gonna do and the fucker keels over backwards. Takes a header over the fuckin’ bannister and falls thirteen floors back down!”

“Thirteen?”

“Ain’t no fucking way you chased him up thirteen flights of stairs.”

“I swear on my tusks.”

“Why’d he fall?”

"Well, that's the the thing. I’m like fuck, I gotta run all the way back down. So now I’m chasing this fuck back down the stairs. I get there, and he’s still alive! He’s all twitching, going blue and shit, holding his throat. Turned out the little prick had swallowed the coins as he was running up the stairs and now he’s fuckin’ choking!”

“Fuck me.”

“So what did you do?”

“I got paid.”

“Oh you sick fuck.”

"How?"

“I don’t even wanna hear the rest, you’re gonna put me off my food.”

“What’s wrong with you, Mikkel?”

“What?” Mikkel said. “I got bills to pay. You think it’s cheap having three kids with three women?”

"Wait, I thought you had four kids?"

"Oh shit, yeah."

The group of Goblins burst into laughter as the bamboo door to their private room in the Gnommish restaurant slid open.

“Finally!” Mikkel exclaimed. “I was growing fuckin’ mushrooms waiting on you.”

Rufi grinned at his friends and stooped to enter the small, bamboo lined room.

“Traffic,” Rufi said with a shrug. “You alright, Mik?”

“Rufi, Paulie,” Mikkel shook hands with them. Mikkel was one of those annoyingly handome Goblins that knew it. He had fine, almost delicate features, pearl white tusks, and twinkling green eyes, a rarity amongst the Kith.

“Pug.” Rufi said with a grin.

“Rufi! Pauli! Come sit, come sit!” Pug, the youngest of the group, had a round face that was always ruddy from incessant Chaaraam leaf chewing. At some point their group had adopted Pug, although none of them was sure when or why.

“Chuchy.” Rufi extended his arms and embraced the silent, grey suited Goblin. There were very few creatures in the Free Cities that could get that close to Chuch, let alone hug him, but he accepted the gesture with a small pat on Rufi's back. He then separated and grabbed Rufi's face, scowling at the swelling around his eye.

“Why the fuck didn’t you get me?” Chuch growled at Rufi.

“What? That thing last night?” Rufi said innocently.

“Yeah,” Chuch said.

“It just happened, Chuch. Not like I planned it.”

“I should have been there.”

“I’m sorry. Next time I wanna kick shit out of some fucking Trolls, I’ll make sure you’re there.”

Chuch glowered at him and then shrugged.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Chuch nodded tersely at Pauli before ignoring him completely.

“Come on, leave ‘em alone,” Mikkel said to Chuch. “Let ‘em sit down before you start.”

Rufi shrugged out of his heavy coat and hung it up before easing himself down to sit cross legged facing the door. The room wasn’t large, and it was made even smaller by the hulking Goblins. There were a few cushions to lean against in lieu of chairs and a low square table in the middle.

“Can we order?” Pug said. “I’m starving.”

“Tell me something new,” Mikkel said. “Drinks first. I got the girl bringing that fizzy Gnome beer.”

“Ahh that shit gives me gas,” Ridley groaned.

“Gnommish food always gives me the shits,” Chuch said. “Why couldn’t we go to Sollo’s?”

“Coz we always go to Sollo’s,” Mikkel said. “If I have to look at one more brined fuckin’ sausage, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“I like brined sausage,” Chuch growled darkly.

“Oh sure, sure, what’s not to like?” Mikkel said, looking away from Chuch’s glower. "So what the fuck happened, Ruf?" Mikkel said, changing the subject swiftly.

"I heard there was six of 'em!" Pug said excitedly. "Nine feet tall all of 'em!"

Chuch snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You ever seen a nine foot Troll?" he growled at Pug.

"Well... not really," Pug said with an impish grin.

"Coz they don't get that big," Chuch said. "Only back home, and even then they're more monster than Troll. Our people wiped out the ones that big centuries ago," he said with a note of pride in his voice. "I would have fuckin' loved to have been apart of those raiding parties."

"Rather you than me," Mikkel said. "So were there six of 'em?"

"Would I be sitting here if there was?" Rufi said with a rueful grin on his face. "It was just some fuckin' Foundry worker on his night off. He had too much to drink and got mouthy so I had to settle his account. No big deal."

"Is he... you know?" Pug asked, looking around.

"Coppers said he ain't woken up yet," Rufi said with a non-commital shrug.

"Grashnok," Chuch said with a wicked grin on his face.

Grashnok was the Goblin title for a Troll Slayer and one of the highest ranks a Goblin warrior could achieve. The title could only be given to a Goblin who had killed a Troll in one-on-one combat. A legendary feat in the Mountains.

“We need to talk business,” Rufi said, changing the subject, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

"We could have talked business back at the pool hall," Chuch growled, noticing Rufi's discomfort.

“Business we can’t talk anywhere there’s Kith.”

“So it’s true?” Pug said, looking at Mikkel and then Rufi.

“What’s true?” Rufi asked.

“There was a meeting. The Kings?” Pug whispered the final word and then looked around like a naughty child frightened of being overheard.

Rufi raised and eyebrow and then looked at Pauli who gave a small shrug.

“Food first, then business.” Rufi said as the door slide open and a small Gnome waitress came in with a tray of pink, fizzy beers. She was dress in the traditional heavy cloth robes of the Gnommish Empire. She had small delicate features and long, fluttering eyelashes. She bowed and kept her eyes low, placing down the tray and then stepping back without turning her back.

“Paul, order us some grub.” Ridley said while he handed out the beers.

Paul spoke to the waitress in surprisingly passable Gnommish. The server was taken aback for a moment before she began to rapidly scrawl down their order.

“None of that octopus crap this time,” Chuch growled.

“In fact, no seafood,” Mikkel added.

“Ooh, get those crispy rice cake things though,” Pug said. “Oh and the duck! They got any duck? And make sure the noodles are spicy.”

Pauli relayed all this, and the server nodded and bowed her way out of the door, sliding it shut behind her.

“So what were you boys talking about?” Rufi asked after taking a deep drink of his beer.

“You don’t wanna know,” Pug said, snorting into his beer.

“Just collection dramas,” Mikkel said. “I’m telling you when the fuck did it become such a ball ache to get creatures to pay what they owe? I’m up to my fuckin’ elbows in claret at the minute. Used to be you slap a guy around a little and he paid. Now I’m putting in real fuckin’ wet work and they still ain’t paying!”

“Sign of the times,” Pauli said.

“What’s that mean?” Mikkel asked.

“Everyone’s broke. It’s why loans are up and collections are down. Everyone needs more gold, but they can’t afford to repay it.”

“Why not? There’s gold everywhere!” Mikkel said. “Just last week, Bobby… you remember Bobby right?:

“Bobby with the teeth?” Rufi asked.

“No… Bobby Bentnose,” Mikkel said.

“Oh yeah right, from the Docks.”

“Right, well just last week I see him at the bar and he’s got three girls on his arms, Slugged out of his cranium, buying drinks for everybody, throwing around gold like he’s shitting it. I ask him, I says Bobby, what’s going on? He tells me, him and that little crew he works with just boosted a crate of melons, and I mean good melons, not soft, not rotted. Quality fucking produce, and he shifts ‘em on for four gold a piece! They made out like fuckin’ kings!”

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

Rufi whistled and then burped.

“That’s a real score.”

“Right? And Bobby Bentnose is as dumb a fuck as you can find, and even he’s hittin’ the big time. There’s gold just falling out of people’s pockets right now.”

“Bobby Bentnose?” Chuch said, his voice low and dangerous. “Where do they stay?”

“Ohh… err…” Mikkel looked to Rufi, who shrugged.

“I dunno. I could find out.” Mikkel said.

“Do that.”

They all knew Bobby Bentnose was about to receive a late night visit from Chuch, and he would be relieved of the burden of all that heavy gold.

“That’s Faces,” Pauli said, continuing the conversation. “Straight goers are suffering more than ever. Folks are spending more on groceries than their rents nowadays. Just to keep a family fed is doing their nut.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Mikkel said. "But there's gold out there, that's all I'm saying."

"Corse there is," Rufi said. "We're doing better than ever."

"Historically, when the economy's down, the rich get richer, and so do the Villains." Pauli said. "It's the regular straight ones that feel it."

"Read that in a book, did yer?" Chuch snorted derisively.

The door opened again before Pauli could respond, and the Gnome waitress returned with another server, carrying to giant metal trays laden with steaming, sizzling Gnommish cuisine. There were heaped servings of thick noodles, racks of meat laid across steaming beds of fragrant rice, stews, skewers of meat, and stacks of buns and dumplings. The Goblins fell on the food. They grabbed handfuls of meat and rice, forgoing utensils, slurped the stews straight from the bowls, and ripped dumplings open to let the steam out. They communicated through grunts and hand gestures as their mouths were constantly full.

After almost twenty minutes of solid eating, they began to slow. Pug was spooning waterfalls of noodles into his mouth while Ridley sat back, belched, and lit a smoke.

“I needed that,” Ridley said, patting his stomach.

Chuch had finished long before the others and was surreptitiously cleaning his teeth and claws. Mikkel downed his beer and poured another one for the table.

“Chew!” Mikkel snapped at Pug. “You're gonna choke again.”

Pug mumbled around the noodles and then slurped them up, sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Woo that’s spicy!” he gasped, gratefully guzzling down the beer Mikkle had poured him.

Pauli was dutifully ploughing through the remaining dumplings, dipping them one by one into a dark brown sauce, and popping them into his mouth.

“So what are we here for, Shoya?” Chuch asked Rufi.

Rufi sipped his beer and sighed.

“The Kings did meet last night,” Rufi said, keeping his voice low.

“Shit,” Mikkle said. “It’s about this Bad Batch, right?”

Rufi nodded.

“There’s too much heat right now because of it. Especially after that actress's death, it’s all over the papers.”

“Lane LaRue, now there’s a piece of ass I could have worn out for weeks,” Mikkle said dreamily.

“So what did they say?” Chuch asked, ignoring Mikkle.

“What do you think they said?” Mikkle replied. “It’s obviously gonna be the Triad, ight? All the Burn comes through the Gnomes, everyone knows that.”

“This is what they were saying. Bill and Delilah were pointing the finger at Yano and he pointed right back at them," Rufi explained.

"It makes sense. Why would Yano sell a tainted product? It hurts his rep and makes him look bad," Mikkle said. "He ain’t got nothing to gain other than a bit of gold and he's already got mountains of that.

"He said it could just as likely be The Firm or the Landlord. They don’t know the product as well as he does. Maybe they got a line on something cheap and decided to deal around the back and cut him out,” Rufi said.

"It's what I would do," Chuch said.

“Could definitely see that fuck Bill doing something like that,” Mikkle growled.

“Could be,” Rufi said, glancing at Pauli who looked up only briefly from his dumplings before going back to eating. “Anyway, they all had valid points. They argued it back and forth a bit but one thing they all agreed on was that the OD’s have to stop. It’s bad for all of our interests.”

“Yeah, dead junkies ain’t good for nobody,” Pug agreed.

"Shut up Pug, we're talking." Mikkle clipped the young Goblin around the ear and motioned for Rufi to continue.

“Exactly,” Rufi said. “Anyway, once they hit that sticking point, they looked to Uncle Sam to settle their squabbles, as usual.”

“Uncle ain’t got no involvement with drugs,” Mikkle said.

“That’s why they looked to him,” Rufi said. “He’s the only one with nothing to gain or lose. So it was put on us to find out who smuggled in the Bad Batch and who sold it.”

Rufi looked at Pauli again, and he gave a slight nod of his head, noticed only by Chuch.

“Uncle Sam has put me in charge of finding out.”

“Shit,” Mikkle said.

Pug whistled through his teeth and Chuch raised an eyebrow.

“Makes sense,” Mikkel said. “You know the game. Them long tusks in the Jung wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“That’s a big step up,” Chuch said. “Working for the Kings.”

“Yeah,” Rufi said, despite the good food, his stomach had turned sour.

“Where do we start?” Mikkle asked. “My gold's still on Yano. Or at least it has to be a Gnome. No one else grows Burn. Would have had to have come from them.”

“That’s true,” Chuch said. “If it wasn’t Yano, it was definitely someone from outside of the city, so finding them might be a longshot,” Chuch said.

“There had to have been a contact in the city,” Mikkle replied. “The way that shit’s spread, it’s everywhere. No one from outside could have distributed it like that. This package has been chopped up and pushed all around the city. That means it’s someone with a lot of connections and someone with the infrastructure to move that much weight. We ain’t talking a kilo or two. The Bad Batch is everywhere, and these deaths have been happening for weeks now. That means we’re looking at maybe somewhere near half a tonne of the shit.”

“Had to have been someone well connected then,” Chuch said. “No stranger could smuggle that much in and distribute it without anyone hearing about it.”

“But how could they have got it in the Docks without us knowing about?” Pug asked.

“Quiet Pug," Rufi said quickly. "Listen forget the how, I'll worry about that. I need you boys tracking down the rest of the Bad Batch. We need it off the streets and we need the deaths to stop. I need you hitting up every dealer you know, focus on where there’s been the most OD’s.”

“Taking drugs back off the streets?” Mikkle said, grinning as he picked his teeth. “Feels wrong.”

“What are we gonna do? Buy it?” Pug asked incredulously.

“Don't be thick,” Chuch said. “We tell ‘em to hand it over or we take it.”

“Exactly,” Rufi said. “Whatever you gotta do, it needs to be gone. We’ve got the full support of the Kings here.”

"Yeah, and if they don’t like it, they can get their gold back off whatever cunt sold it to them in the first place,” Chuch said.

“Yeah,” Rufi said. “I need you boys on this day and night. We don’t do this then I look like a cunt and even worse, Uncle Sam looks weak in front of the other Kings. Take whatever muscle you need and hit up every contact you have.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mikkle said. “Once they hear Chuchy is on the prowl for Burn, they’ll be lining up to hand it over.”

Chuch gave him a grin that showed too many teeth.

“Chuch, no killing… if it can be helped,” Rufi said. “We don’t wanna draw more attention.”

Chuch pulled a face and then nodded.

There was a knock at the door, and then it slid back. A dark suited Gnome with a purple ponytail and a tattoo on the side of his neck depicting a pair of black wings bowed respectfully at the door.

“Ruf’Gar, you honour my restaurant with your presence,” he said, his voice flat and lacking the usual clipped Gnommish accent.

“Honours all mine, Tiko.” Rufi said, incling his head. “Food was delicious.”

“That is wonderful to hear. But I wish you had let me know you were coming, I would have ensured the best of everything, and of course your meal is my pleasure today.” He bowed again.

“Much appreciated,” Rufi said, raising his glass to the Gnome.

“I am sorry to encroach on your evening, but may I speak of business with you?”

Rufi sighed and looked at the other Goblins.

“You boys finish up and get out there. I’ll meet you back at the Hall. Paul.” Rufi rose and nodded to Pauli.

“You want me with you?” Chuch asked.

“Naa, I need you out on the streets.” Rufi gave his shoulder a squeeze and chose to ignore the suspicious look in Chuch’s eyes.

“Can we order another round first?” Pug called after Rufi.

"Yeah, but don’t get too pissed!” Rufi said as he exited the room with Pauli behind him. The last thing he heard was Pug asking the room if they wanted shots.

Rufi and Pauli followed Tiko through the winding restaurant, into the bustling kitches and down the basement. They walked past rows of Gnomes packing something up into crates with false bottoms and then through to another room that was little more than a windowless storeroom with a desk in it. Tiko closed the door behind after checking no one was standing outside.

“Tiko what the fuck?” Rufi said as soon as the coast was clear. “Please tell me it’s not our package.”

Tiko lit a smoke and then handed one to Rufi, while Pauli took up position just out of Tiko’s eyeline. He ran his hand through his purple ponytail.

“I didn’t know Rufi, I swear.”

“Fuck!” Rufi leaned back against a crate, his hands on his knees. “This is bad.”

“You’re telling me?” Tiko said, jabbing a finger at himself. “The Yano has launched a full investigation. Red Hands have been summoned from the homeland. They’re looking into everyone of us. He knows it was one of his own people.”

“You think that’s the biggest problem we’ve got?” Rufi said, looking down at him. “The Kings met last night. They’ve put a full blown investigation in place and, you’ll love this bit, Uncle Sam has put me in charge of it!”

“What?”

“Yeah, that’s right, I’m in charge of fucking finding us!” Rufi snarled through gritted teeth.

Tiko’s expression changed. His eyes narrowed, and Rufi felt like his hand had strayed near his belt, where there was undoubtely a concealed blade.

“What does that mean for me?” he asked.

Rufi stared him down for a moment and then raised his hand.

“Relax, you go down, and I go down with you,” he said. “But what it means is, I have to come up with answers.”

“This is good though,” Tiko said, his hand dropping from his waist. “You could delay the investigation and give us time.”

“Would you delay an order from the Yano?” Rufi asked him.

“No.”

“And I can’t delay an order from Uncle Sam. The Kith will look weak if we don’t solve this quickly.”

Tiko rubbed his eyes and sank down on a crate opposite Rufi.

“I need your supplier,” Rufi said.

“Rufi it’s not that simple.”

“Then make it that simple. They fucking swing for this, or we do. The Kings know someone in the city distributed this shit. And a fucking good job we did of it. It’s everywhere!”

“They screwed us both, Rufi. If I had known…”

“How the fuck didn’t you know?” Rufi growled at him. “I saw the package. The Yano had half a square of it and half a square of real Burn. Even I could tell the difference!”

“They switched the damn package. They must have mixed it up with some clean Burn… I don’t know. I checked it!”

“Did you check it all?”

“Of course not! It was half a tonne of product that needed to be gone the same night!”

Rufi sat back and toked on his smoke.

“Listen, there’s no point of us pointing fingers at each other. We’re both in the shit here, and we’re both liable to get our throats slit if it lands on us.”

“Agreed.”

“Right now I need you to tell me who sold it to you.”

“I don't know. They used intermediaries, and so did I. Remember, we thought we were being smart by staying as far removed as possible.”

“Who were their intermediaries?”

Tiko sighed and played with his gold hoop earring.

“Dwarves.”

“Dwarves!”

“You said to use creatures that weren’t connected to the Kings!”

“But fucking Dwarves? Fine, whatever. What Dwarves? Who are they?”

“They’re a little gem smuggling outfit just outside of the Foundries. They’re nobodies really, but they had the connection.”

“And they came to you?”

“Yes.”

“So you never met the suppliers?”

“No.”

“And you ain’t got no idea who they could be?”

“No.”

“Well they have to be Gnomes, right? Nobody else grows Burn.”

Tiko looked at him like he wanted to argue, but then he nodded.

“Most likely yes, they’re Gnomes.”

“Okay,” Rufi said, stubbing out his smoke. “I need you to find these Dwarves and press them…”

“I can’t,” Tiko said quickly. “Even meeting with you right now, I’m taking a huge risk. Like I said, we’re all under investigation. And a Black Wing has no business talking to Kith.”

“Tiko if we don’t find these lot, we’re fucked.”

“I know, but I can't.” He lowered his voice and looked around the room, paranoia flashing in his eyes. “My men aren’t my men. I can’t trust anyone, and I certainly can’t take any muscle and go intimidating Dwarves without a very good reason.”

“Shit,” Rufi growled, kneading his brow. “Fine. You get me a location and try to make contact on the sly. I’ll go and deal with the Dwarves. And I need you to put together a list of everyone you sold your half to. We need to get to them and make sure they keep their mouths shut.”

“Okay. Yes, okay, that can work.”

“Alright, just keep your head and be cool. We’ll sort this shit out. If I can hand over the suppliers and get the rest of the Bad Batch off the streets we should be alright. Once the deaths stop and the papers find something else to print, hopefully the Kings will forget about who distributed it in the city.”

“Hopefully.”

Tiko stuck his hand out and Rufi shook it.

“We’re in this together, Tiko.”

“Together,” the Gnome repeated.

“Up to our fucking necks in it.”

“That’s the problem Rufi, my neck’s a lot lower than yours.” There was no hint of mirth on Tiko's sombre face.

Rufi grinned but he felt the bile churning in his guts again. This was all too messy. If either of them survived this, it would be a miracle.