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Chapter Thirteen

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Argos had never seen someone so excited about newspapers. Rivi scurried back and forth between long rows of racks displaying papers from around the world. He wove in and out of other, less excited browsers, pausing now and then to mutter to himself about some particularly exciting newspaper title, or location of origin. Sometimes he lifted one partway up, scanned the headlines, and then set it back down the moment another caught his eye. Argos, for his part, simply stood nearby and watched. As long as no one was messing with Rivi, the coyote was happy just to let the cheetah enjoy himself.

They stood in the midst of an immense, rectangular café named The Fine Morning. The café was full of guests, and the bustling din of voices filled the air. Despite that, the atmosphere remained pleasantly relaxed. The air smelt of a mixture of roasted coffee, tea leaves, sweet pastries, mingling with the scents of freshly printed and inked paper. On one side, The Fine Morning served coffees, teas, pastries, breakfast items, and small snacks. On the other, they sold what they claimed to be the ship’s largest selection of news, and periodicals. While Argos did not know if that was true, their selection had enchanted the feline from the moment Rivi first set eyes on it.

“Look, Argos!” Rivi picked up another paper. “They have the Hathahall Herald!” He studied it a moment, then spotted another one. Rivi replaced the paper only to pull another up from the rack. “And the Tillamar Times!” He chuckled to himself. “So many newspaper founders really do love their alliteration, don’t they.”

“Sure seems that way.” Argos glanced down at the paper. “I’m glad you’re excited, Spots. But I wouldn’t know one of these from the next.”

Rivi glanced over, a coy smile on his muzzle. “Well, you see…” He ran his finger across the top of the page. “They put the name right here.”

Argos yipped a little canine laughter. “Alright, that’s not bad.”

The cheetah set the paper back down. “Thank you.” He quickly chose another. “Oh, the Mundarra Mural.” Rivi scanned it, murmuring to himself. Then he glanced at the coyote again as he returned it to the rack. “It’s not that I’m excited for any paper in particular, mind you. It’s just that I’m excited to see the news from so many places, all at once. Believe it or not, even in our largest cities, we don’t get a very extensive selection of news or periodicals from around the world.”

Argos grunted, folding his arms. “Oh, I definitely believe it. Don’t take this the wrong way, Spots, but your Church is pretty restrictive about what they let your people see.”

Rivi stilled, his muzzle twisting into a scowl. “I’m all too aware, unfortunately. Why, I’m certain that even my chronicles of my pilgrimage will have edits and redactions that are out of my control. My goal is to document so many things from around the world, that even after the Church removes anything they consider to be against the civil good, that my people will still have many wonderful experiences to read about, and see pictures of.”

Argos flicked an ear back. “Against the civil good, huh? Is that what they call it?”

“It’s one of the things they call it.” Rivi picked up another paper, looking it over. “Against the civil good is usually a term for something they’re afraid might stir up unrest, or cause ill sentiment towards the authorities.” He turned the paper towards Argos. “Like this, actually.”

Argos skimmed the headlines. Protests Escalate Across Vitorn, Despite Martial Law. The coyote grimaced. He was all too familiar with that situation. “Only two ways that’s gonna go. And it’s gonna take a lotta bloodshed, either way.”

Rivi tilted his head. “You sound as if you’re familiar with the riots that have been overwhelming Vitorn.”

Argos rubbed his muzzle. “Let’s just say, the Guild has teams in Vitorn.” Then again, the Guild had teams nearly everywhere. “Not sure I’d call them riots, by the way. That’s a full blown revolution. That dipshit in charge had his troops open fire, back when it was just an isolated protest, a year or so ago. That turned it into a series of riots, which got more people killed. And month by month, it’s building steam. And now it’s at his doorstep. if he’s smart? He’ll step down, and let his people elect a new leader.”

Rivi scrunched his face. “That’s not how it’s been reported back home.”

The coyote smirked. “Does that surprise you? Vitorn’s one of your people’s only major external allies, right? Your Church is gonna do all it can to make the people getting shot just for protesting inequality into the bad guys. Until…” He held up a finger. “The president gets deposed. Then your newspapers and radio broadcasters will do a hard swerve into exactly the opposite. They’ll start talking about the people of Vitorn winning their freedom, and how your Church was behind them the whole time. Cause they won’t wanna lose their alliances, or their foreign navy ports, or their trade. Make sense?”

Rivi sighed, tucking the paper under his arm. “Unfortunately, far too much sense.”

“You actually gonna buy that one?” Argos gestured at the newspaper.

“Yes!” Rivi’s excitement quickly returned. “While it might be difficult reading, I’m ever so eager to get to read another perspective on things. That’s another thing that makes this so exhilarating for me! It’s a chance to read not only outside perspectives, but also to discover news and happenings from around the world I’d otherwise never get to experience.”

Argos laughed again, shrugging. “Ain’t never seen someone so happy to buy a newspaper, but I’m glad for you.”

“Oh, I’m going to buy lots of newspapers.” Rivi turned around, surveying the rack on the otherside. “The Willamin Dispatch. I’ve never even heard of this one.” He glanced at Argos. “Where’s Willamin?”

Argos rubbed his ear. “I think it’s in Lostara, but I’m not totally sure.”

“Well, wherever it is,” Rivi said, giggling bubbly feline laughter to himself. “Their local sports team just won a championship! For a sport I don’t even recognize.”

Argos peered over Rivi’s shoulder. The front page headline simply read, CHAMPIONS! Beneath it was a black and white photograph of a bunch of canines wearing leathery helmets, and holding large, curved sticks. The wolf at the front was hoisting up a gigantic trophy. A towering ring of wooden bench seats rose up all around them in the background. Confetti decorated the ground all around them.

“Oh, I think that’s run-down.” Argos pointed to one of the wooden implements. “You run back and forth, knocking this leather ball around with those. You gotta try and knock it into the other team’s basket.”

Rivi put the paper under his arm to join the first. “And it’s called Run-down? That doesn’t sound like a very official name for what seems to be an important sport in…wherever Willamin might be.”

“It’s not.” Argos followed Rivi along as the cheetah examined more periodicals. “And I could be wrong about the name. When I was a pup, we played something like that in the orphanage. We called it run-down, anyway. I’m sure it’s got a more official name in Lostara.”

Rivi paused, looking back. “So, you really were in an orphanage? I know you’d mentioned you were that kind of orphan too, as opposed to…” He gestured to where Argos kept his badge. “That kind. But I wasn’t sure how literally you meant it. And I didn’t want to pry.”

The coyote flattened his ears. “It’s alright. I don’t really wanna get into it in public, but if you’re curious, we can talk about it later. But yeah, I spent some time living in an actual orphanage. Along with Iosa, and my sister.”

“You have a sister?” Rivi perked up, smiling. “I have a sister too! She’s older than me, so used to push me around when we were young, but only in the playful sense. Honestly, she’s probably the only one I wouldn’t expect to think less of me for being…” He licked his nose. “You know.”

“I know, Rivi.” Argos squeezed the cat’s shoulder. “And if that’s the case, then she sounds great.”

“I suppose that’s unfair of me to say.” Rivi smiled again, but it was a forced smile. Something hurt shone behind his eyes, like some old bruise that suddenly caught the light. “I know for a fact my mother would love me just the same. In fact, I suspect she already knows. She just doesn’t mention it, because…it could be extremely problematic for her, if others knew. And they’d expect her to look into having me…” Rivi’s muzzle twisted. “Corrected. So it’s better kept a secret, whether she knows the truth or not.”

Argos grunted. The Church’s hierarchy would likely ostracize Rivi’s mother, and his sibling, if his so-called impurity ever became public knowledge. They certainly had the power to make the lives of his family miserable, simply for not trying to change who Rivi was, and for loving him just the same. He imagined Rivi was right, and that the cheetah’s mother knew her son better than Rivi realized. Argos liked to think that meant she’d accepted Rivi in her own way, even if it was unsafe for her to say so.

The coyote tapped Rivi’s chest. “You know she loves you, and right now, that’s all that matters.”

“Yes,” Rivi said, smiling. “You’re right.” The cheetah cleared his throat. “So, what about your sister, if you don’t mind my asking. Is she older, or younger? And is she in the same…” He waved towards the pistols strapped beneath Argos’s clothes. “Line of work as you?”

“Kora’s younger than me.” Argos tucked his hands into his coat pockets. “We kinda grew up on the street, together, with me looking out for her. Before we ended up in the orphanage, together. And yeah, she’s in the same line of work.” He smirked at the feline. “At least in the general sense. But let’s leave it at that, for now.”

Rivi bowed his head. “Certainly.” He giggled to himself again as he returned to browsing countless newspapers. “I suppose she must have been less of a…” Rivi tapped a finger to his muzzle. “What was it you called Iosa’s brother again?”

“A dipshit,” Argos said, laughing. “Yeah, Kora’s a lot less of a dipshit than Calix. And speaking of, I gotta make him buy you a beer or three for hauling his damn suitcase around.”

Rivi rubbed his hands together. “Oh, that’s not necessarily. Though, the thought is certainly appreciated.”

“At the very least, he owes you some damn thanks.” Argos flattened his ears, crossing his ears. “For nearly getting you arrested, if nothing else.”

Rivi rubbed his head, his tail lashing. “I’m afraid that was mostly due to my own jumbled, panicked words, rather than his actions.”

“You only panicked cause you realized you didn’t know what was in his damn case.” Argos shook his head. “He’s apologizing, and thanking you, and buying you a damn beer.” His ears lifted again as his smile returned. “And if you don’t want the beer, you can just accept the platitudes, and he can buy me a beer.”

“That is acceptable.” Rivi skimmed a few more papers. “You know, most of these are very recent editions. Some are even dated today. How do they get so many up-to-date newspapers on this vessel? Surely Tovasa doesn’t have that wide a distribution of daily news.”

“You’d be surprised what a port like Tovasa gets. The more travelers from around the world, the more you want to cater to them all. Plus, a lot of them have local offices and printing presses in intercontinental travel hubs. Some of them use aerials for radio communications these days, and I imagine they can transmit news stories over those, as well.” He patted the wall behind the rack. “Hell, a big ship like this has radio aerials, too. Probably got their own printing presses. Some of these might well have been printed on board, this morning.”

“That’s actually quite impressive.” Rivi tapped one of the papers. “In that case, do you suppose this version of, say, The Garlavel Gazette is exactly the same as they’d be buying in Garlavel today?”

“Hard to say. If it is…” Argos rubbed his muzzle in thought. “They probably transmit the original to their various regional offices via radiophoto, and then those offices copy and print it locally.”

“Fascinating.” Rivi stuck that paper under his arm as well. “I should love to discuss it with whoever runs this place. Or anyone else in charge of acquiring news and periodicals for the vessel. They might be able to give me a few more answers.” He lifted his ears. “Perhaps they’d even like to answer a few questions officially, for the pilgrimage. I’m sure my eventual readers would love to know how daily newspapers end up on a flying ship.”

Argos sincerely doubted that, but he smiled at the cheetah just the same. “Sure, Spots.” He waved at the increasingly thick stack of paper beneath Rivi’s arm. “You want me to see if they got a basket or something you could put those in?”

“No, I don’t mind carrying them.” He stuck a fourth one with the others. “Though I daresay, I am going to run out of room soon.” The cheetah’s tail tip flicked back and forth a few times. “Do you suppose they offer delivery? I could have them send one of everything to the room!”

The coyote’s ears shot up. “Everything? There’s gotta be a hundred papers here, and you haven’t even gotten to the magazines and shit, yet. You’d need a few more suitcases just to fit them all.”

Rivi shrugged. “I’m sure they sell luggage on board.”

Argos stared at him in silence, genuinely unsure if the cheetah was joking or not. Finally, he gave a little sigh. “Hey, I think a few tables have opened up. You gonna be okay here for a few minutes? I’ll go get us some drinks and grab the table.”

“That sounds wonderful, thank you.” Rivi smiled at him. “I won’t be much longer.”

“I find that increasingly hard to believe.” Argos looked towards the café across the room. “What do you want?”

“A large coffee, please? A little milk, a little sugar?” Rivi turned around, squinting at the menu. “I can’t read it well from here, but if they have any pastries with fruit, or cream, I’d love one of those as well.”

Argos nodded. “I’ll see what they got.” He pointed towards a cluster of empty tables. “I’ll drop my coat over one of those seats to claim it before I place our order.”

“Very well!” Rivi flashed him a quick smile before turning back to the papers. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

“Or an hour,” Argos said, as much to himself as to Rivi.

Argos turned away as the cheetah was absorbed back into the wide world of foreign headlines. He grinned to himself, happy to see Rivi enraptured by something so simple. He unbuttoned his coat as he walked through the news stand, approaching the seating area for the café. Most of the tables were already occupied, but a few newly vacated ones remained open. Argos removed his coat, and draped it across a chair that would provide him the greatest vantage point of entrances and exits. Beneath his coat, the coyote wore an ebony waistcoat, swirled through with intricate, silvery floral patterns. Under the waistcoat, Argos also wore a long sleeved collared shirt in midnight blue. His pistols were strapped between his shirt, and waistcoat.

“Excuse me.” Argos turned towards a trio of human women seated nearby. He offered them his friendliest, least-toothy smile. “Would you mind watching my coat for me, while I order?”

The ladies all smiled back at him, with the oldest amongst them nodding. “Certainly, young man.”

Argos gave a hearty, barking laugh. “Oh, no one’s called me young in a long time. You just made my day. And thank you. I’ll be right back.”

The coyote made his way through the bustling, murmuring crowd with his ears perked, and his tail swishing. People like those humans were one of the reasons he enjoyed traveling on those long, intercontinental voyages. Argos often found that world-travelers tended to be less likely to hold onto any lingering bias amongst the species. It certainly was not always the case, of course. The lion who’d been glaring at him the day before made that all too clear. And there were always going to be people like that wolf, looking to prey on those weaker than themselves. But often enough, Argos met just as many people willing to respect and assist their fellow travelers, no matter what species they were, or where they came from.

It just made Argos wish he felt more deserving of their kindness. While the coyote understood well enough his actions had purpose, somedays the burdens of bloodshed weighed heavier upon him than others. Argos sought to balance the cruelest parts of his life with kindness, when he could. He spread money amongst the desperate, he sheltered those in need, and he protected those who could not protect themselves. He’d saved lives. But in the end, Argos knew he'd taken more lives than he’d saved. In the end, Argos knew he was.

Argos was a killer.

And he would always be a killer.

Argos glanced back at Rivi as he stepped in the queue for ordering. While Argos waited his turn, his mind wandered. With any luck, he hoped that the cheetah would never find out exactly what Argos really did for a living. The coyote was happy to let Rivi continue assuming that Argos was part of some secretive police force, and not something darker. It wasn’t as if the cheetah was completely wrong, either.

The Guild of Ghosts and Shadows did operate as a sort of covert, intercontinental military force. And they did often act against dangerous criminals, warlords, and far more. But while they were allied with certain nations, they served no government directly, and their mission was not law enforcement. The Guild’s members served around the world, on a wide variety of missions. Sometimes those missions had a deeper purpose. Other times, that purpose was money. The Guild had extremely deep coffers, but sometimes it took blood to keep them full. Each unit had a specialty, and some of them resulted in far more bloodshed than others. But the Orphans like Argos and Iosa, they probably shed more blood than any other. After all, the Orphans’ primary functions were-

“Sir?” The worker behind the counter called out to Argos. “Sir, I can take your order now.”

“Oh, sorry.” Argos approached the counter, offering his usual smile to the young human with short brown hair. “Lost in thought here.”

“No problem.” The worker returned his smile, likely just to be polite. “What can I get you?”

“Let me get two large coffees, please. One with a little milk and a little sugar, and one black but with lots of sugar. And, uh…” Argos glanced at the menu, but decided it was probably easier just to ask. “Do you have any pastries with fruit, or cream? Or both?”

“We do.” The human scribbled down Argos’ order on a note pad. “What kind of fruit are you looking for?”

“Good question.” He looked over his shoulder. Rivi was engrossed in magazines now, and Argos doubted he could draw the feline’s attention without screaming his name. He turned back to the vendor. “I guess just give me whatever you’re got with the most fruit. If he doesn’t like it, I’ll eat it.”

The human chuckled. “Very good sir. That’ll be five-fifty two.”

Argos took out his billfold, with drew a ten note, and passed it across the counter. “Keep the change.”

The worker’s eyes lit up. This time, his smile was far more genuine. “Thank you very much, sir!” He quickly wrote up a receipt, then passed it to the coyote. “They’ll call order number seventy-six when it’s ready.”

The coyote took the receipt and thanked the man, then moved out of the way for the next person. He took a look back at his coat. It remained where he’d left it. One of the woman watching over it saw him looking, and gave him a cheerful wave. Argos returned it, then walked to the end of the counter to await his order.

Two kobolds with matching bronze scales and little green aprons scurried around, preparing drinks. One of them took a carafe of freshly brewed coffee, and poured it into two large mugs. The other took the mugs, adding milk and sugar to one, then twice as much sugar to the other. The first kobold scrambled along the counter to the pastry case, where he plated an immense, multi-layered delight. Tiers of fluffy pastry and creamy custard were stacked atop one another, interspersed with layers of colorful, wild berries. It was large and messy enough that it even came with utensils. When everything was ready, they placed it all onto a small tray and pushed it over the counter.

“Seventy-six!” The kobold hopped up onto a stool, looking around. “Seventy-six!”

“That’s me.” Argos showed the small lizard his receipt, then picked up the tray. “Thanks, guys.”

“Sure thing, buddy.” The kobold gave him an odd little saluting gesture, then went right back to work.

Argos carried the tray back to his table. He set it down, glancing over at the three woman. “Thanks for watching my coat.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all.” The eldest woman pointed towards the pastry. “Good choice! Those are absolutely out of this world.”

Argos chuckled, moving the plated treat to the seat across from him. “Glad to hear it. It’s for my cabin-mate, but I’m sure he’d be glad to know.” Argos set Rivi’s coffee down alongside his pastry. “And with any luck, he’ll actually make it over here before his coffee gets cold.”

The coyote set his own coffee in front of his chair, then took the tray to a nearby collection point, next to the trash bins. He returned and sank into the chair with a happy sigh. Argos felt as though he’d been on his feet all day long. Not to mention that after getting Rivi settled in for the night, he’d met with Iosa to discuss a few matters of importance. By the time he finally got to bed, he slept like the dead, if only until his internal clock decided it was time for him to be awake again. Argos often found it difficult to genuinely sleep in well into the morning, no matter how late the hour was when he finally flopped into the bed. Only when he was utterly exhausted was he likely to sleep through the early morning hours. Tonight, perhaps he’d actually get to bed in time to get a full night’s sleep.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Argos picked up his mug, sniffing it. The coffee’s aroma was rich and earthy, with hints of pleasant bitterness. He tasted it as carefully as he could, not wanting to burn his tongue a second time. The temperature was just about perfect, though, hot enough to warm him, without aggravating his already angry tongue. At least the pain from his earlier burn hadn’t lasted long. Rivi’s suggestion to eat a little snow certainly helped. Argos took a bigger sip, and found the earthy flavors even richer than the aroma. There were hints of roasted cacao, bittersweet chocolate burnt cherries, and with a few bright, acidic notes, almost like tart berries. It was so good that Argos almost wished he hadn’t added the sugar.

He took another sip, then set it back down, looking for Rivi. The cheetah now stood at the far end of the news-stand. He’d added a few more papers to his ever-growing collection, as well as several magazines. Argos feared that at any moment, Rivi would lose his increasingly difficult grip on everything and drop them all over the floor. The thought made him scowl. Poor Rivi would be terribly embarrassed by such a display, even if it was his own fault.

“I’m sorry, ladies,” Argos said as he sighed and stood back up. “Would you mind watching my stuff one more time? I need to go save my cabin-mate from himself.”

As soon as they agreed, Argos made for Rivi. He snatched up a large shopping basket on the way, carrying it towards the cheetah. Rivi was now at the far end of the news-stand. He stared, perplexed, at a shelf displaying magazines entirely covered up by black barriers. Only the very tops of each magazine peeked out, not even enough to see their titles. He reshuffled his possessions, reached for one of the hidden periodicals, and then paused, as if unsure if he was even allowed to touch them.

“Here.” Argos held the basket out to Rivi. “Just put your stuff in here before you drop it.”

“Oh…” Rivi glanced between the basket, and his unstable armful of periodicals several times before offering the coyote a sheepish smile. “Thank you, Argos.” Rivi deposited everything into the basket.

Argos grunted at the weight of it. Rivi’s many selections nearly filled the entire basket. “I’m amazed you were carrying all this, already.”

“It’s all the practice hauling luggage, I suppose.” Rivi turned his attention back to the magazines. “Argos, why are these particular periodicals hidden? Are they not available for sale, yet?”

The coyote lifted an ear. “Are you…” He glanced at the viewing barriers, then back at the cheetah. “Are you genuinely asking that, or making a joke?”

Rivi splayed his ears. “I’m genuinely asking.” He tapped one of the black screens. “Are these forbidden from sale in Tovasa, or something? I suppose they could uncover them once we were outside Tovasan airspace.”

A grin crept across Argos’s muzzle. “You really don’t know what those are?”

Rivi tilted his head. “You say that as though you’re surprised.”

“I am, but…” The coyote chuckled, swishing his tail. “I probably shouldn’t be. Those aren’t the sort of magazines I imagine your Church allows to be sold back home.”

“Oh…” Rivi’s eyes widened. “What are they?” He put a hand across his muzzle. “Political critiques?” He lowered his voice. “Anti-Church of the Divine Weavers propaganda?”

“No, Rivi.” Argos shook his head, his smile widening. “They’re pornography.”

The cheetah gasped. His jaw hung open. He stared for a long moment at all the black screens hiding the magazine covers from view, then turned back to the coyote, his ears flat as could be. “Real pornography?!”

“Yeah, Spots, real pornography.” Argos thumped the back of his free hand against one of the black dividers. “These are here to make sure children don’t see ‘em.”

Rivi went right back to staring at the forbidden collection. “Real pornography…” He licked his nose, his tail twitching in an off-time rhythm. “With…” He swallowed. “Naked pictures, and everything.”

“That’s what pornography is, yeah.” Argos set the basket down. “Why, you wanna peek at someone’s bits?” He reached for a magazine at random, and lifted it just enough to reveal the title. “Ooh, Feline Frolics. That sounds right up your alley.”

“Put that back!” Rivi’s voice was little more than a squeak. He spun away, shielding his eyes. “I shouldn’t be looking at such things.”

Argos laughed and pushed the magazine back down. “Alright, alright. I won’t embarrass you anymore.” He picked up the basket, and then gently nudged Rivi away from the pornography section. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before temptation overwhelms you.”

Rivi glowered at him, but followed along at his side. “There’s no temptation, I assure you.”

Argos led him back towards the table, grinning. “None at all, huh? Not even a temptation to take just the smallest, quickest peek?” He whispered to the cheetah. “Some of those naked felines in there are gonna be male, after all.”

Rivi gave a single, harsh cough, as if he’d nearly swallowed his tongue. “Certainly not!”

Argos set the basket down on their table. “None that you’d admit to, anyway, right?”

As the cheetah unbuttoned his coat, he flashed Argos the briefest little smile. “That’s precisely right. It’s far beneath my dignity as the Wandering Scholar to ever admit to even the meagerest of curiosities to such things.”

“But,” Argos said, pulling Rivi’s chair out for him. “If you say, happened to find it laying open-”

“I’d close it immediately.” Rivi removed his indigo overcoat, and folded it several times. Beneath his coat, the cheetah was dressed in bright silvers and golds. Argos could only imagine how garish such clothing would look on him, but on Rivi, it just looked right. Rivi settled into his chair. “However…” Rivi draped his coat across the back of his chair. “If I happened to see something I shouldn’t while closing it, I wouldn’t chastise myself too harshly.” He settled down into his chair, then picked up his coffee mug and used it to hide his impish grin. “It would be an accident, after all.”

“That it would.” Argos took his own seat. “How’s the coffee?”

Rivi sipped it, and gave a happy little groan. “Excellent! Thank you for it, and for getting my chair, for me.”

“My pleasure, Spots.” Argos took a drink of his own coffee. “So, I’m guessing publications like Feline Frolics aren’t exactly legal where you come from.”

“Oh, certainly not.” Rivi took another drink. “At least, not the actual thing. Certain vendors of ill repute do sell dirty periodicals featuring the scantily dressed, but genuine…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Nudey picture magazines are quite illegal. Let alone those with images of lascivious acts.”

Argos yipped playful canine laughter. “Never heard anyone call them nudey pictures, before.”

Rivi mewled nervous laughter, looking away. “I’m sorry, I must sound quite prudish right now. I just…” He stole a look over his shoulder towards the periodicals again. “I suppose I hadn’t realized that sort of thing was so readily available in some parts of the world.”

Argos reached across the table to pat Rivi’s gloved hand. “Nothing to be sorry for, Spots. It’s just not something you’ve experienced before, that’s all. I don’t mean to embarrass you.”

“It’s fine.” Rivi turned his head back around to look down at Argos’s tan-furred hand. He smiled again. “Thank you, though.”

“No problem.” Argos took a drink of coffee, then stood up. “Now that you’re here to watch the table, lemme go pay for this giant pile of reading material you’ve picked out.”

Rivi opened his coat to retrieve his billfold. He took a few notes and passed them to the coyote. “Here, use my money. Please. They’re my purchases, after all.”

“Yeah, alright.” Argos took the bills, and folded them in his hand. “Did you really want to inquire about getting the rest of them delivered to your room? Cause I can ask, if you want.”

Rivi’s face lit up. “Oh, yes please! I’d love a full collection of the newspapers available today. Some of them are actually special Worldstrider Departure Day editions.”

“I’ll see what they can do.” Argos picked up the basket, and turned away.

The coyote carried the heavy, overfull basket across the café, and towards the sales counter of the newsstand. There was no one else in line, so he walked straight up and deposited the basket atop the polished wooden countertop. A young gnoll with light brown fur, a few black spots, and a crisp green uniform approached him. The gnoll give him a friendly smile, then glanced down at the basket. His eyes widened, and his ears slowly swiveled back.

“Yanno,” the gnoll said, looking up. “You can come back tomorrow to buy more. You don’t gotta run us out of stock.”

Argos chuckled, and jerked his thumb back in the direction of Rivi. “It’s my cabin-mate’s idea. First…” He waved his hand over the basket. “He wants all of these. Then, he’s got a special request.”

The gnoll shrugged, and started pulling out papers and magazines to tally them up on the cash register. “What kinda request?”

“The kind that I’m pretty sure you’re gonna deny, and that I’m going to bribe you with an exorbitant amount of money to make it happen anyway.” Argos chuckled. “He also wants to have one of every other newspaper delivered to our room.”

“Sorry,” the gnoll said, shaking his head. “We don’t do deliveries. Let alone mass deliveries.”

“Hence,” Argos said, making a grand show of retrieving his billfold. “The exorbitant bribe I mentioned.”

The gnoll paused. “How exorbitant, exactly?”

Argos pulled out a few hundred-note bills. “Double or so your weekly pay.”

“That’s pretty exorbitant.” The gnoll glanced at the money, then continued tallying up the basket items. “But I gotta deduct the cost of all those papers, too. And I got work all day, so I’m probably gonna have to pay someone else to-”

Argos held a hand up, silencing the worker. “Triple, then.”

“Deal.” The gnoll grinned, his short but bushy tail wagging behind him. “Your boyfriend must really like newspapers.”

“He ain’t my boyfriend,” Argos said, chuckling. He folded up the money offered, and then passed it discretely across the counter to the gnoll. “Just my cabin-mate.”

“Awfully generous of you for just a friend.” The gnoll counted the money below the counter, then stuffed it into his pocket. “Not that it’s my business.”

“It ain’t.” Argos folded his arms, grinning. “You’re right about the newspaper thing, though. Ain’t never seen someone so happy just to see a big newsstand.”

“Everyone likes something.” The gnoll retrieved a pen and a sheet of paper, and started scribbling down all the names of the newspapers Rivi had already selected. “Unless he wants double copies, I’m skip the ones you’re already buying.”

Argos gazed around at the selection of magazines on display on shelves just below the countertop. “That’s fine, yeah.” His eyes soon landed on a cover photograph featuring a wolf in an elegantly tailored suit and tie, brandishing a gold-plated, richly engraved pistol. Argos couldn’t help a wag of his tail when he recognized the model. “Oh, shit.” He picked the magazine up. “Never seen a custom Starpiercer 50 like that, before.” Argos tossed the magazine onto the pile. “That, too.”

The gnoll worker tilted his head, staring down at the magazine. “Oh, yeah. Fashion and Firearms. That one’s right up your alley.” He smirked at the coyote. “You oughta model for them.”

“Hah!” Argos gave a single bark of laughter. “Maybe when I’m retired. I ain’t really in a line of work that lends itself to havin’ my picture splashed across an intercontinental magazine cover.”

The worker added the new magazine to the running tally. “Well, just the same, if I ever see you on there, I’ll tell people it was my idea.”

“Yeah, you do that.” Argos picked the magazine back up when the worker was done with it. He flipped through it quickly. It was equally full of articles on the latest swanky fashion trends, and the newest developments in gunsmithing and weaponry. “Oh, hey. Ederro’s putting out a new line of jackets. I kinda like that double breast.” He flipped a few more pages, and an excited little gasp escaped him. “A new Silver Eruption? They discontinued those a decade ago. Ooh, and a new model Rangemaster? Iosa’s gonna shit!”

The gnoll yipped laughter. “I think you like guns as much as your friend likes newspapers.”

“Yeah, you may have a point.” Argos dropped the magazine back into the pile. “May as well save that for later.”

“Alright.” The gnoll punched in a few more numbers on the register, then patted the stack of periodicals. “That’ll be forty-two seventeen, all together.”

“Right.” Argos handed him a few of Rivi’s bank notes. “Normally, I’d tell you to keep the change, but it’s his money, so…” He waved at Rivi. “I’m actually gonna need it. Plus, pretty sure I gave you enough extra money already.”

“That you did.” The gnoll rang it up, and then passed Argos a few notes and a handful of coins. “Here you go. I’m also gonna need your room number for the delivery.” He pushed the list of papers to skip across the counter, and handed Argos a pen. “I’ll try to get it to you by this evening. Slight chance it won’t happen till we close up shop, but it’ll get there.”

Argos wrote down their room number and passed it back. “No hurry. I think he’s got more than enough to read already. Thanks for your help.”

“My pleasure.” The gnoll patted the money in his pocket, then loaded everything back into the basket. “You may as well keep this to carry these.”

“Appreciate it.” Argos hefted the basket and returned to the table where Rivi waited at him. “Alright, good news, and bad news. Well, for you, just good news.” He set the basket on the side of the table, and sat back down.

Rivi looked up from his pastry. Half of it was gone, now, and bits of custard dotted his muzzle. The cheetah pinned his ears. “There’s bad news? Oh, have I caused them trouble? I should go straighten it out!” He started to rise.

Argos quickly waved for him to sit back down. “No, no, nothing like that. Sit your spotted ass back down.”

Rivi did so, even as the hint of a smile crept across his blunt, feline muzzle. “You don’t know if my posterior is spotted or not.”

“Guess that’s true,” Argos said, taking a drink of coffee. It had cooled enough now, he no longer had to sip it. “Though, if I had to guess, I’d wager there ain’t much of you that isn’t spotted.” He waved at the cheetah’s face. “Though right now, your face is spotted with custard.”

“Oh.” Rivi picked up a napkin, wiping his muzzle with it. “Thank you. So, was there really bad news?”

“The bad news was that they don’t normally do mass deliveries.” Argos took another drink. “The good news is that all it took to change their policy was a quick bribe.”

Rivi sucked in a breath, dropping his napkin. “You had to break the law? Oh, that’s terrible! We should go and cancel it immediately before someone gets into trouble.”

“No, Spots,” Argos said, setting his mug down. “It ain’t the illegal sort of bribe. Hell, it ain’t really even a bribe, at all. I just paid the worker a bunch of money to get things delivered for us.”

The cheetah scowled. “How much did it cost you?”

Argos waved him off. “Don’t worry about it.” He dug Rivi’s change out of his pocket, and passed it across the table. “Here’s what you got back for that basket.”

Rivi scooped up the money. He placed the bills into his billfold, and tucked the coins into his pocket. “I’ve got to worry about it! It sounds like an awful lot of money.” He placed a hand over his chest. “And it’s for my benefit. Please let me pay you back.”

“You already did.” Argos plucked his new magazine out of the basket, and dropped it onto the table. “You bought me this.”

The cheetah glanced at it as he put his wallet away. “I sincerely doubt one periodical will cover the cost, no matter how expensive a publication it may be. You’re going to make me uncomfortable if you keep paying for everything.” Rivi sat up straighter. “I do have quite an extensive grant from-”

“So, I hear.” Argos opened his magazine, scanning the inside cover. “Oh, hey. I know one of their firearms editors. Good guy.”

“I’m serious, Argos.” Rivi slapped the table. “I really must insist on paying you back for this.”

“Fine, fine.” Argos rolled his eyes. “It was fifty, okay? Just buy me a nice dinner or something.”

Rivi snorted, crossing his arms. “I find myself doubting that fifty would even cover the cost of all the newspapers, let alone the delivery fees you mentioned.”

Argos glanced up, smirking. “Fine. A nice dinner, and a couple drinks. We’ll call it even.”

The cheetah heaved a sigh. “You’re quite impossible.” He picked up his fork, nudging around a blackberry. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Yup.” Argos turned the page again. “Iosa tells me that all the time. How’s that pastry, anyway?”

A happier look returned to the cheetah’s face. “It’s excellent.” He scooped up the berry with a bit of custard, and popped it into his muzzle. “As is the coffee.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too.” Argos took a long drink. He waved his cup at the basket. “So, you add anything else of interest? I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was paying for.”

A playful smirk crossed the feline’s muzzle. “That seems to be a common recurrence, with you. And yes!” He pushed his plate aside to make room. “Since I was hoping to get one of everything else anyway, I only grabbed a few more that really caught my eye.” Rivi dug through the basket, and then pulled a few newspapers out. He stacked them up on the table. “Look at this one!” He tapped it. “It’s from Alimos.”

“Oh, yeah, one of the big human cities.” Argos turned the paper around. “Black Star has a shipbuilding facility there.”

“Exactly.” Rivi swept his hand across the headline, reading it aloud. “Black Star announces plans for new ship!”

Argos skimmed the top of the article. “The Cosmos, huh? And a new class even bigger than the Worldstrider? Damn.” The coyote clucked his tongue. “This poor girl won’t get to hold the record for long, I guess.”

“Well, relatively speaking, anyway.” Rivi set the paper aside. “It’ll take decades to actually be built, and tested, and so on. And look at this!” He showed the next newspaper to the coyote. “The Herald of Wings!”

Argos looked down at it. “Oh, yeah, from the Gryphon Isles.” The picture on the front cover depicted three large, winged creatures standing before an immense construction project of some kind. “Navaria breaks ground on new airship port.”

“We’re going there, right?” Rivi leaned forward, excitement burbling in his voice. “To both the major Winged Islands?”

“Far as I know, yeah.” Argos drank some more coffee. “The ship usually makes stops at both major ports to refuel, and resupply.”

“Wonderful!” Rivi nearly bounced in his seat. “I’ve never seen any of the winged peoples in person, before.” He leaned closer still, lowering his voice. “But is it true that those ports feature dens of iniquity?”

Argos shrugged. “Guess that depends who you ask, and what you consider iniquity.”

Rivi cocked his head, one ear splayed. “I’m asking you.”

“In that case, yes.” Argos barked laughter. “Gryphon laws are pretty lax, especially when it comes to stuff they’re willing to let visitors buy, or engage in.” He set his coffee mug down, pushing the paper back towards Rivi. “Some of those places are a lot of fun. You want me to take you to one?”

“Certainly not.” Rivi stacked the papers atop each other, then paused. “Although. If I was to witness some semi-illegal gambling, or the smoking of illicit substances? Or even bawdy public carousing? I suppose it would be an experience I’m unlikely to get at home. While I certainly wouldn’t partake in such things…” He drummed his fingers against the stacked newsprints. “It might make for a highly entertaining article in the chronical of my pilgrimage. Even if I had to censor it a bit.”

Argos crooked his arm over the back of his chair. “Rivi, if you wanna see gambling, groping, and drugs being smoked, I’ll just take you down to a party in steerage.”

Rivi blinked a few times. “That happens down there?” When Argos nodded, he glanced down at the paper from the Gryphon Isles. “Then what happens in such places there?”

“Last time I was in a…” He smirked. “Den of Iniquity, as you called it. I saw someone get stabbed in the hand for cheating at a card game, someone passed out being robbed, and a male gnoll bending a human woman over a table in plain sight while a few more human women placed bets on how long it was gonna take him to finish.”

The inside of Rivi’s ears flushed scarlet. “Oh. Oh, my.” He quickly picked up his coffee and took a long drink. “Perhaps a bit less iniquitous than all that, then.” He took another drink, then cleared his throat, gesturing with his mug at Argos’s magazine. “So, um, what did you purchase for yourself?”

Argos closed it again to show Rivi the cover. “Fashion and Firearms. The name kinda says it all.”

Rivi reached out and turned it around. “Oh, yes, that does seem like your sort of reading material. I’d wager you’d more interested in the firearms portion than the fashion, but…” He looked up, his red-gold eyes tracing some of the intricate silver patterns of Argos’ waistcoat. “Perhaps only just.”

“You’re probably right.” Argos flipped through it, letting Rivi see a few of the pictures and article titles. “I figure it’ll give me something to read in the room later, while you’re absorbed in the entire mountain of newspapers you’re about to have.”

“That’s a wise idea,” Rivi said, giggling to himself. “I might very well end up lost in news stories for days on end.” He pointed a picture of a fox in a dark gold ensemble with black highlights. “Oh, you’d look stunning in that.”

Argos twisted up his muzzle. “I dunno. Might be a bit flashy for me. Looks like something Iosa would want me to wear.”

Rivi shook his head. “No, I think it’s just a dark enough golden hue that it wouldn’t be too bright for your fur.” He shrugged. “But then again, felines are partial to vibrant colors. Myself in particular.”

“So I noticed.” Argos waved at Rivi’s fanciful, silver shirt and golden trousers. “They look quite sharp on you, though.”

Rivi beamed. “Thank you!”

“You’re quite welcome.” Argos took his magazine back. “I’ve probably embarrassed you enough, today, so I’ll refrain from other complaints. But feel free to imagine them.”

“Very well, I shall.” Rivi kept smiling, patting the last of the papers he’d selected. “Did you wish to see this last one, or have I bored you enough with my scholarly interests?”

“Ain’t nothing boring about you, Spots.” Argos returned his own magazine to the basket, to ensure he didn’t leave it behind. “Whatcha got there?”

“The Rigarda Herald!” Rivi spun it around towards the coyote. “That’s where I’m from! I didn’t think they’d have our newspapers here, too.”

“Oh, I’m sure your Church’s media folks like to get their perspective out there as much as anyone else.” Argos crossed his arms, regarding Rivi. “So, you’re from the Sacred City, huh? I probably shoulda guessed.”

Rivi’s ears went up, and his smile grew wider still. “You know about The Sacred City? Even on my pilgrimage, I’ve hardly ever heard it called that outsiders.” He faltered a little. “I don’t mean that as an offensive term, of course.”

Argos held a hand up. “Nah, I know what you mean. And yeah. I know it’s a sacred site for your Church.”

“It’s where the Weavers walked…” Rivi glanced at the paper, then back up at Argos. “I shouldn’t get too scriptural.”

“Don’t worry about it. I already told you, I’d be happy to hear you talk more about your beliefs, and all that sometime.” Argos pulled the paper closer. “So, this one got any fun headlines? You guys have any sports championships going on?”

Rivi chuckled a little. “No, but they have finally arrested some suspects in the assassination of the Archbishop.”

Argos’s blood went cold. It took every ounce of experience and training in him to avoid betraying any kind of reaction. He did not go still. His ears did not shift. His tail did not twitch. Instead, he simply gave the paper a casual glance, and sipped his coffee. A photo depicted a trio of shackled felines under armed guard being led into a monolith stone building. Across the top of the paper, the headline was emblazoned in enormous block letters.

MINISTRY OF JUSTICE ANNOUNCES ARRESTS IN ARCHBISHOP ASSASSINATION!

“Oh, yeah!” Argos feigned slight excitement. “Look at that. They’ve been investigating that a while now, haven’t they?”

Rivi nodded. “Months, at least. The killing was a big shock to the entire nation. I should imagine it might have been big enough news to be heard about around the world.” He waved his hand at the paper. “Well, I mean, it’s right here on the Worldstrider even now, after all.”

Argos forced himself to chortle. “Yeah, people definitely heard about it. Hell, Iosa and I were in your land when it happened. You can imagine all the shock and ripple effects rolling through the people I work with. Think some of our teams may have been hired away to consult with your people on the investigation and manhunt, actually.”

“Oh, really?” Rivi lifted his ears, helping himself to another bite of pastry. He wiped his muzzle with a napkin. “I can imagine those with your sort of expertise would be very helpful in that sort of investigation.”

Argos sipped his coffee again, then set his mug back down. “Not to talk about my work, but that sort of consultation and contracting is one of the Guild’s functions.”

“I guessed as much.” Rivi read through the top portion of the article. “It says here, the three suspects are believed to have been rebel agents, working as moles within the Ministry the Archbishop lead.”

Argos grunted, baring a single fang in a performative scowl. “That checks out. I’m sure your people are gonna have to go on a pretty extensive, shall we say, interior cleaning.”

Rivi idly bobbed his head in response, as he read a little further. Argos sipped his coffee, letting the cat read. At least the article made it sound like everything was going smoothly. The three felines were pre-planned scapegoats. They weren’t rebel moles at all. Rather, they were radical zealots whose loyalty was to the dead Archbishop. They helped his vice police perpetrate cruelty and even death upon far too many innocent felines in the name of their religion. Long before the fatal bullet was ever fired, plans were made and actions undertaken to ensure his minions would be held accountable, too.

“It sounds like the investigation is ongoing, but…” Rivi lifted his head again, tapping the paper. “The Ministry of Justice seems confident those are the assassins.”

Argos smiled at him, his ears up. “That’s good, right?”

“Certainly.” Rivi finished off the last of his pastry, speaking again after swallowing it. “It’ll help bring closure, at least. And a sense of security. My people don’t much like the idea of unknown assassins running amok.”

Argos laughed again, a more genuine sound this time. “I don’t think anyone does, Spots.”

The cheetah wrung his hands. “May I be honest?”

“Always,” Argos said.

“This is admittedly blasphemous of me to say, but…” A disgusted sneer twisted up Rivi’s blunt muzzle. “I cannot say there isn’t at least a small part of me that’s glad he’s gone. The things he always said about…” He waved between them. “People like you and I. A bishop should spend his teaches preaching the gospel, and spreading kindness, not…” His sneer deepened. “Stirring up hatred against the impure. And against those who believe differently than we. He gave entire speeches about how felines who don’t belong to the Church are heathens, worthy only of scorn.” Rivi snarled, his ears back and fur bristling. “It seemed every time he opened his mouth, they only thing he ever preached was hate. A leader of the Church should hold himself to a higher standard, not…” The cheetah’s shoulders sagged. “Well, I’ve said too much, already.”

Argos reached across the table and gently squeezed Rivi’s gloved hand. “It’s alright, Rivi. I know what you mean. And since you don’t wanna blaspheme, lemme do it for you.” He glanced at the picture, then made a vulgar, retching noise, an insult among many canines. “That guy was a piece of shit, who ran the kinda prison camps people don’t always come back from. Fuck him. Your people are better off without that entire mountain of filth running one of your ministries.”

Rivi chuckled, just a little. “Those are…” He licked his nose, flicking an ear. “Certainly not the words I would have used. But, I daresay, even amidst the Church, there are certainly those who would tacitly agree with them.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s right.” Argos knew it was. After all, there was a reason Iosa and he had gotten into, and out of, the country so easily. “So, hey. Hopefully whoever they pick as his replacement will be a better person.”

“Hopefully.” Rivi glanced away, an odd, haunted look in his eyes. That, Argos hadn’t expected. But before he could think too much about it, Rivi blinked, and it was gone. The cheetah returned his gaze to Argos. “You said you and Iosa were working there when it happened, right?”

“That’s right.” Argos swirled the last of his coffee around inside his mug. “And then we headed north, did some work in a few other stops on the way up to Tovasa. Hell, Spots. You and I mighta even crossed paths before, and just not known it.”

“It’s certainly possible.” A playful smile parted Rivi’s muzzle. His eyes shifted to mischievous angles. He lowered his voice to a whisper, waving at the headline. “That wasn’t you, was it?”

Argos knew the cheetah was only joking. Rivi had no real reason to suspect the truth. Just the same, hearing that question from Rivi of all people nearly drew out a visceral reaction from the coyote. But Argos had years of training and a lifetime’s experience with the deceptions and lies required to survive his work to draw upon. He could have ever so easily lied to the cheetah. Argos could have just said no, and moved on. He could have fed Rivi a story light on details and impossible to verify.

But Argos did not want to lie to Rivi.

Besides, Argos thought, sometimes the truth made for the best deception.

“Nah, Spots,” Argos said, flashing Rivi his usual, easygoing smile. “I didn’t kill him. I was just the spotter.” He finished off his coffee, yipping casual laughter. “Iosa pulled the trigger.”

Rivi laughed with him, returning his attention to the newspaper. “Yes, that sounds about right.”

Argos smiled at the cheetah, even as he withered, deep inside. That hurt more than he’d expected. But it had to be done. And now, if Rivi ever learned the truth?

At least Argos hadn’t lied to him.