“Where are we?” I sigh, stuffing my hands into my pockets and hunching my shoulders. The boy asks a lot of questions. “What’s close by?” I grind my teeth, breathing heavily through my nose. “What is this part called? Does Midas live close by? Will we be safe here?” Okay, that’s it. I round on Icarus, slamming my palms on the armrests of his wheelchair.
“We’re in Malor. There’s a lot close by. This section of the city is called the ‘Jungle’, and Midas wouldn’t be caught dead here. Nowhere is safe in Malor, but you won’t be gutted in your sleep. If,” I snap, narrowing my eyes in the darkness at Icarus’ shocked expression. This is why I don’t hang with teenagers. “You learn to shut up. Gods!” I stand up, shaking my head. “Do you ever stop asking questions?”
“You get used to it.” Esilea notes, pushing Icarus past, a small…wait, what is that? Is she smiling?
"That’s what I’m afraid of.” I mutter, taking the lead once more. I quickly take a quick glance over my shoulder. They’re such an odd looking pair. How did they end up together? What’s their story? Look at yourself. You’re just as bad as Icarus; get a grip here. You need to keep an eye out Namonai. Without you, they’ll be penniless in a gutter by morning. On second thought…
“This is our destination, yes?” Esilea pushes Icarus up beside me, standing outside the door of the Burnt Rice Tavern. Icarus looks over the exterior cautiously, audibly swallowing.
“And we, that is, I mean…we’re staying in there?” He looks from the blood stains on the brick and dark wood, to me, then to the vomit in the alley.
“It has a roof,” Esilea says, adjusting her satchel. “Good enough for me.” Maybe Esilea won’t be that bad after all. “Now let’s take care of the inhabitants and sleep.” Damn, spoke too soon.
“No!” I hiss, stepping in front of her. She dips her head, looking around wearily, reaching into her bag. Icarus hunches over in his chair, gripping the wheels tightly.
“Why are you whispering?” She hisses back.
“I don’t want Naiomi hearing us. That would be very bad.” I glance around in the darkness, staying two steps away from the door at all times. I know from personal experience the walls and doors are thin. Gods, so very thin.
“Who’s Naiomi?”
“That’d be me,” Everyone turns to the alley in a blur of action, Esilea is armed and ready before Naiomi has even shown herself. She slips out of the darkness, crossbow pointed almost casually in our direction. “Easy cupcake, put that away before you hurt yourself.” Naiomi says nonchalantly, nodding at Esilea’s sword.
“I knew we couldn’t trust him!” Esilea snaps at Icarus, shielding his body with hers, sword pointed at my chest. Why is it always me?
“Easy now,” I say, holding up my hands. This isn’t the first time I’ve had two armed and angry women on my hands. Unfortunately, unlike then, I have no windows nearby to jump out of.
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“This isn’t an ambush,” Naiomi says, striding past me and opening the door. “I know exactly why you’re here.”
“You do?” Icarus peeks out from around Esilea’s solid frame. “How?”
“Namonai has been on a real dumbass streak lately,” The Kitsune responds. Ouch. “I figured he’d do something like this, it was only a matter of time. Now,” she cocks her head towards the soft light of the empty tavern, “get in before I change my mind.” Esilea looks at Naiomi cautiously, before doing as she’s told, Icarus wheeling in after her.
“Thank you.” Icarus says. He smiles up at Naiomi. She doesn’t smile back.
“You and your partner will sleep in the cellar tonight. It’s the locked door. Here’s a key.” She tosses it to him and gives his chair a shove, sending him flying into the room. I move to follow, and feel her soft hand on the back of my neck, slowly squeezing. “Not you,” Naiomi whispers, her voice like the soft promise of a blade being drawn. “We need to talk.”
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Naiomi props her feet on the table, boots shaking the thick wood with a heavy thud. She keeps the crossbow in her lap, motioning for me to sit.
“What about—”
“Don’t care,” She says, giving a quick glance at the closed cellar door. I sit in my chair, head down, trying to slow my breathing. I’m in big trouble this time. Like, really big trouble. My left leg bounces as I fidget with my fingers nervously. I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin. Just say something already, dammit!
I flick my eyes up. She’s just looking at me with that same even stare, thin eyes boring a hole into me. A neutral expression is at home on her angular face, with high cheekbones that could cut, and thin lips compressed into a straight line. I hate not being able to read her.
“Naiomi, listen. Things got a bit out of control. I didn’t mean to bring them here, it just sort of…happened.” Still, she remains silent. I let out an explosive breath, leaning forward. “What?”
“Take it off,” she says, a hard edge in her voice. I quickly yank my mask off, holding it under the table. I can’t believe I forgot, damn it all! “Don’t wear that thing around me, do you understand?” I nod quickly. “Say it!”
“Yes, I understand. I’m sorry, I forgot.”
“I can never forget,” After a moment her body relaxes, and her tall Kitsune frame unwinds. “I don’t care why they’re here, Namonai. I know the cripple is Icarus; he looks the same as his uncle. Which means he’s a genius. And his partner—”
“Esilea.” I interject.
“Don’t care,” She dismisses my comment with a wave of her hand. “His partner is obviously a trained warrior. Both of which are useful. They can stay.” I relax, putting my elbows on the table. Thank the gods I don’t have to tell Esilea that she has to leave. She scares me almost as much as Naiomi. Almost. “But,” Of course there’s a ‘but’. There always is. “I need my money.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see a bit of paper sticking out of her pocket. Without missing a beat, she pushes the paper out of sight, leaning forward in the dim light. “I mean it this time.”
“I want to pay you, Naiomi. I promise.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“I…can’t.” I swallow, putting my face in my hands. Gods, why do I always do this? Come on Namonai, get your shit together. She deserves that money. “There are others who, well…I’m already running late on their payments.” I swallow hard, past the lump in my throat. I blink hard, taking a deep breath that rattles my chest. Cautiously, I glance up at Naiomi, who sits there looking…looking…understanding. I hate when she does that. When she knows what’s going on in my head, in my messed up life, and she forgives me. I screwed up! I’m sorry! Shoot me for it! But I can’t say that, and she wouldn’t regardless.
“Tomorrow,” She stands, ears twitching. Naiomi puts a warm hand on my head, ruffling my hair. “Go to Midas, give him the second half of the map, and collect your payment. Finish the job, pay your debtors, and get me my rent.” She stops before she mounts the stairs to her room, looking back at me in the near darkness. For a moment, I can almost hear a quiver in her voice. “Please.”