I slam the metal knocker down on the door, sighing when the guard dogs start barking. While I wait, I finger the second half of the map in my pocket. I hate giving Midas leverage, I hate it. But, I do need that money. I wish I could wait until he was really desperate, and squeeze him a bit more. Naiomi shouldn’t have to wait any longer though; I owe two bars total to all my…associates. That’s a lot of money in the Jungle. And Naiomi needs three medallions for the rent I’ve been missing for a few months. I reach up under my mask, pinching the bridge of my nose. Why do I do this?
“Can I hel—oh.” I slide my mask back down, looking up at the door. “It’s you.”
“Hello Aberlocke. Is Midas here?” I ask, biting back a smile.
“Aberlocke! Who’s disturbing breakfast?” I grin at the sound of Midas’ voice, pushing past the butler in an instant. Well that answers that.
“No!” Aberlocke reaches for me, monocle shining in the morning light. “You can’t just go in and disturb him.” I wrap my arm around his, twisting abruptly and pushing him out the door.
“Dogs stay outside.” Aberlocke rushes forward and I slam the door in his face, twisting the lock. Gods that was satisfying.
“Aberlocke!” Sounds like Midas is in the dining room. Probably eating diamond encrusted strawberries and drinking wine made out of gold. Or whatever it is rich people do. I pad softly towards the sound of Midas’ voice, leaning in the entryway of the dining room. Well, it’s not wine made out of gold, but it has more creature comforts than most Malorians have ever seen. Midas sits at the head of a long, ornate, dining table laden with mouthwatering dishes. Handcrafted drapes cascade down the sides of the windows. They’re pulled back to let in the bright morning sun.
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
I clear my throat. Midas jumps, turning in my direction; his surprise is honestly a bit satisfying. “Your butler is a bit…preoccupied.” His face begins to turn the same shade as the strawberry he’s holding. He sets it down so hard the plate rattles.
“How dare you break into my house!”
“Technically,” I mosey over to the table and pop a strawberry into my mouth under my mask, “I was let in.” Midas takes a deep breath, smoothing out his forest green robe. He runs a hand through his dark hair, standing tall. He turns to me, an imperious look in his eye.
“Well, get on with it. Why are you here?” I reach into my pocket, my other hand on my kusarigama. It feels so good to be armed once more.
“Why do you think?” I pull out the second half of the map, waving it back and forth a little. “I think I found something you were looking for.” Midas lunges forward but I take a step back, yanking the map out of reach.
“Where did you get that?” He hisses, forehead veins popping.
“Like I said, I found it. Now,” I rub the handles of my weapons slowly, “I want my money, and you get your map.” Midas looks from me to the map, then slowly straightens. He lets out a long breath through his nose and closes his eyes for a moment. Does this mean he’s going to give me more money? Or is he just trying to control his rage? People oftentimes have to control their rage around me. I don’t know why.
“No.” Excuse me? He slowly begins to remove his gloves, looking at the table all the while. “I’ll find what I’m looking for, whether you give me that map or not. Whatever you decide to do, I won’t be paying you.” He holds eye contact with me, placing his hand on the table. A soft shimmer runs out from his bare palms as the table is slowly encased in gold. The creeping golden wave winds its way up the plates and bowls, consuming the fruit and their containers. It begins to spread down the table legs to the floor when Midas lifts his hand, taking a step closer to me.
“Hey now,” I raise my hands, “No need to do anything you’ll regret.” I flick my eyes around the room, angling my steps towards the exit, slowly pulling one of my weapons out. I can’t pay anybody gold if I am gold.
“Oh, I won’t regret this,” Midas says. There’s a sinister look in his eye that I don’t quite like. He reaches out for me with long fingers. “In fact, I think I’ll quite enjoy it.”