CHAPTER 24 - New Burleigh

The New Burleigh Train station was constructed in much the same way as the station in Red Rock; in the shape of a giant cathedral. Its soaring arches were draped with banners bearing the sigil of Halcyon, and the walls covered with stained glass windows depicting brave scenes of conquest and victory. But unlike the largely empty station at Red Rock, New Burleigh's central platform was a hive of activity.

The moment she stepped out of the train carriage, Azee was struck by the frantic chaos all around her. She'd never seen so many people all in one place, or so close together. She felt a pulse of terror as she gripped the handrail to prevent herself from being swept up in the crowd. But it wasn't the activity that struck her the most, it was the wall of sound that slammed into her. Noise assaulted her from all directions: vendors advertising their wares, passengers rushing too and fro between the trains, luggage carts clattering, and above it all was the call of the conductors, blasting out of large metal trumpets.

“Last call for boarding on platform thirteen, non stop to Legacy. That's non stop to Legacy on platform thirteen."

“Gold class passengers to platform nine for boarding, gold class to platform nine for boarding."

“A reminder to all passengers, pelts are to be collared and leashed at all times inside the station. Any stray pelts are to be reported to security."

“The nine thirty train from Kaseburg will be arriving in fifteen minutes! All passengers please clear platform four!"

Azee slapped her hands over her ears to try and stifle at least some of the racket as a large board, hanging high above the crowd, began to clack and rattle as small panels bearing numbers began to spin. The noise was utter chaos.

A hand gripped her shoulder and Azee spun around. Eloise stood just behind her, in one hand she held the leather leash attached to Azee's collar, and in the other she had two white, fluffy balls.

“Put them in your ears, they'll help."

Reluctantly, Azee took the cotton balls from Eloise and placed them in her ears. The cacophony still rang, but it was at least a little dulled.

“Now come on." Eloise jerked her head towards a set of stairs.

“What about Luke?"

“Don't worry, we'll meet him in the main entrance hall." Eloise gently pulled on the leash. “Now, come."

Suppressing a sigh, Azee nodded and followed after Eloise. Before she had taken more than a few steps, a cry rang out across the whole platform.

Azee spun around. Down at the end of the platform, the slaves were being offloaded from their carriage. One of them, the lapine from the previous night, was trying to break free, his desperate cries echoing across the platform.

“I'm not debris! I'm not! Please!"

Immediately two porters jumped on him as he tried to pull free of the chains binding him to the other slaves already sitting on the platform. Despite his bonds, and the men trying to hold him down, he continued to fight, dragging several other pelts off their feet and along the ground.

Within moments, half a dozen Order agents joined the fray. The fight was desperate, but brief. Seconds later the Lapine was pinned to the ground, two of the agents holding his arms, two holding his legs, and another with her knee on the back of his neck. The remaining agent kept his gun aimed at the other slaves on the platform.

Azee's hands bunched into fists, and it took all of her will not to cry out.

“There's nothing you can do."

Azee spun around as Eloise gently touched her back.

“You can't do anything, and his fate is not your responsibility. If you try and fight them, there is no way this ends well."

“B-but…"

“Think of your sister."

The words sent a shock through Azee's body. With effort, Azee tore her eyes away and followed behind Eloise, her ears and shoulders drooping. The muffled cries behind her sent shivers up her spine as she started up the long staircase towards the main hall.

As she climbed the stairs, a number of flyers fluttering on the ground caught Azee's eye. She was unable to get more than a passing glance at the paper, but for a moment she was certain that she could see an illustration of two faces, one canine, one lapine. Before she could get a closer look the paper was swept away by a pair of ladies hurriedly running down the stairs towards their train.

The great hall of the train station was less frantic, but no less busy or noisy than the platforms. A large fountain sat in the centre of the high vaulted room, with a live tree growing upon a small artificial island. A score of ticket counters of fine granite and brass ringed the perimeter of the rotunda.

“We'll wait here until Windhill manages to join us." Eloise said as she sat down upon one of the fancy wrought iron benches that surrounded the fountain. “ I'm sorry about the leash. We'll take it off as soon as we are outside."

“It's fine." Azee sat down beside Eloise and stared up at the branches above her. “It's not your fault."

“I suppose not. So, what do you think of New Burleigh?"

“I… I've never seen so many people… and so many buildings. A lot of the buildings in Lillyvale look like they're ready to fall down… but this… this place is amazing."

“Oh, there are plenty of places in this city that would give even the worst of Lillyvale a run for their money. But yes… on the surface at least, this city is certainly in better shape than Lillyvale." A small smile played at the corners of Eloise's lips. “More places to have fun too."

“Have you… been here a lot?"

“A few times." Eloise leaned back and looked up at the tree. “A long time ago."

'Back when you were but a sapling,' she mused, smiling wistfully as she gently pulled a leaf from a low hanging branch

Azee was quiet for a time, before softly speaking up. “Eloise… can I ask you something?"

“You may ask, and I will decide whether I will answer."

“Well… I was wondering-"

Before Azee could ask her question, a woman in a pristine station uniform approached and cleared her throat.

“Excuse me, ma'am?"

Eloise turned to glance at the woman. “Yes?"

The woman smiled an insincere smile. “I am terribly sorry to be a bother, but your pelt can't sit there."

Eloise's eye twitched slightly. The station attendant's voice was sickly sweet, but with a sneering smugness just below the surface.

“It's been a long journey." Eloise replied, looking away from the attendant. “We won't be here long."

“Of course ma'am, I completely understand, but the benches are for humans only. Your pelt will have to stand."

Instinctively Azee started to get to her feet, but Eloise put a hand on her shoulder and held her down.

“Do us both a favour and go bother someone else."

“It's station policy ma'am. If you don't comply I am terribly sorry but I will have to ask you to leave."

As Eloise opened her mouth to reply, another man approached, this one in an Order uniform.

“Is there a problem here?"

The attendant's thin smile widened ever so slightly. “Oh, officer, it's just that… this woman and her pelt are refusing to follow station policy. Frankly, they've been very rude and aggressive."

“Is that so, well…" The Agent looked down at Eloise and Azee as he adjusted his jacket, making certain that his shiny order badge flashed in the light.

“Oh yes, very aggressive sir, I was most concerned."

“Now…" the man dramatically straightened his trousers. “I don't know how you out of town folk do things where you're from. But 'round here, we got rules."

“Fine." Eloise got to her feet, Azee hurriedly following behind her. “We'll leave."

The agent raised his right hand, placing his left on the hilt of his gun. “Now just hold on a minute. Y'all violated some rules here, and made this poor woman feel unsafe. I'm thinking you should make this right."

Eloise's eyes narrowed. “You want money, is that it?"

Azee felt her skin crawl as the Agent looked at her.

“Fine looking pelt you got there. How's about you hand her over, and this doesn't need to go any further?"

“Are you certain you want to do this?" Eloise asked, drawing herself up, her voice laced with icey venom. “What do you think the Magistrate will do if I report this?"

“Well that's yer right, certainly, but you know, it's funny, all sorts of bad things have been known to happen to country bumpkins what get themselves lost in the city." The agent replied. “Can't count the number of missing persons cases we got goin' at any one time. 'Specially common for thems that show up alone, like yerself."

Despite standing a few feet behind her, Azee could feel the rage pouring off of Eloise. As she took a step back, she noticed a pair of other agents detach from the crowd behind them.

“We're surrounded!" She whispered.

“So how's about it, country girl. Hand over yer coin and yer pelt, or I'll take you to see the 'magistrate' myself."

“What's going on?"

Both Azee and Eloise turned at the sound of Luke's voice.

Azee had never seen Luke looking quite so bedraggled before. The stubble on his neck and chin was unkempt, there was a dark bruise across the bridge of his nose where Eloise had struck him. His hair and clothes were out of order, and the dark rings around his eyes suggested that he hadn't gotten any sleep. However, despite his rough appearance, Luke still walked with the poise and authority his father had taught him.

“This is Order business," the lead agent said, glancing at Luke. “Suggest you get on about your own business."

“These two are my business. This is my slave and her handler, now what is going on here?"

“You say this is your slave?" The agent's smile widened a little as he looked Luke up and down. “Well sir, we was just explaining to the lady here that she and the pelt were in violation of city law. We were discussing what could be done to make this unfortunate problem disappear."

“Is that it? A shakedown." Luke's eyes narrowed as he reached into his jacket pocket. “How pathetic."

Azee had to stop herself from crying out as the agent started to draw his gun in response to Luke reaching into his pocket. The man had his gun halfway out of his holster but he paused when, instead of a weapon, Luke withdrew a small book.

In one smooth motion, Luke flipped open his pocketbook and withdrew a folded piece of thick parchment paper.

“Here," Luke tossed the parchment to the Agent. “You might find this to be of interest."

The Agent fumbled with the card for a moment before unfolding it. The moment he opened the parchment, all of the colour drained out of his face.

“What's wrong?" The station attendant demanded, taking a moment to peer at the parchment. No sooner had she caught a glimpse of what was written, and she too turned very pale.

“I am Luke Windhill." Luke declared.

“Wha- B-but how do we know this is genuine?" The station attendant demanded, grabbing hold of the parchment. “This could be a fake."

“One of your superiors will be able to verify who I am. I had the pleasure of meeting your chief justice when my father and I visited a few years back." Luke raised an eyebrow as he glanced back at the order agent. “I'm more than happy to stay here and wait."

The attendant flinched as Luke snatched the parchment back and replaced it in his pocketbook. Screwing up her courage, she did her best to speak with authority, her once sickly sweet voice squeaking a little. “Well sir… legitimate or not, who you are doesn't change the fact that this pelt was violating-"

“Will you shut yer yap!" Hissed the order agent, glancing over his shoulder.

Immediately the Station attendant stopped speaking, though it was clear from her expression that she had a great deal more to say.

Turning back to Luke, the Agents bowed his head. “Mr. Windhill, my most sincere apologies. I didn't realise-"

“No, I'm sure you didn't. I doubt even you are stupid enough to try and target my servants for this game you are playing here."

“I-it was just a misunderstanding sir-"

“And unless you want to explain to your chapter master why the Windhill family has removed all patronage from the New Burleigh Order-" Luke continued, cutting off the stammering agent, “-you and your little friends will forget you saw me and scurry. Now."

Azee felt a thrill of satisfaction as the Order Agent who, mere moments ago, had a look on his face like a cat staring down at a tasty morsel, now looked as if a slight breeze might knock him over. Without another word the Order Agent and the station attendant made hasty retreats.

Azee breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

Eloise glanced around as she hissed at Luke. “What are you doing?! Declaring yourself to be Luke Windhill, are you insane?"

“The Windhills are well known in this city. My father used to come here at least once a year for the solstice celebrations, and he dragged me along more than a few times. If someone were to recognize me while I was using a different name it would be far more suspicious."

“I… I suppose that makes sense." Eloise sniffed haughtily, glancing around to make certain the agents had indeed departed. “I'll hand it to you Windhill, every once in a while you manage to have good timing."

“And it seems the two of you can't seem to go more than a day without getting mixed up with the bloody Order." Luke replied dryly, glancing pointedly at Azee. “Now let's get out of here before someone with actual authority decides to get involved with us. I've had our bags sent on ahead."

Eloise raised an eyebrow at Luke. “Sent on ahead? And just where are we going exactly?"

***

Azee, Luke, and Eloise followed along behind a well dressed man as he led them down a brightly lit hall. Azee almost wanted to groan in pleasure at the feeling of the plush carpet beneath her feet. The chaotic sounds of the city were mercifully dulled by the fine, white, wooden walls.

The Grand Burleigh Hotel was one of the oldest buildings in the city, originally the town hall, over two hundred years before. Now, it served as a place of refinement and culture, for those in the interior who found themselves on the edge of the frontier lands. The walls were hung with beautiful art, the fixtures were glittering brass and crystal. Every member of the staff wore immaculate uniforms of forest green and brilliant gold. For Azee, only the Windhill estate had been grander, and even then, not by a great deal.

The man leading them was the concierge of the hotel, a tall, thin man with immaculately combed hair and an aristocratic moustache. Like Luke and Eloise, he spoke in a crisp, refined voice. “We are truly honoured to have you back us Master Windhill. We were, of course, most grieved to hear about the passing of your father. I have taken the liberty of having your usual suite prepared."

Luke nodded. “Good."

“We received your telegram and have had your luggage taken to your room. As it would seem you have had a… long journey, I have also taken the liberty of sending some of your clothes to be laundered. If you would like, I would be happy to instruct your slave in the operation of our facilities and kitchen so that she may take care of your effects and meals herself."

“No, she will be attending to my person. I expect her to be treated with dignity."

“Of course sir." The concierge looked back at Azee, a friendly smile crossing his lips as he nodded his head slightly. “So long as she behaves, we shall see to it that she is not mistreated."

“Her handler will see to her behaviour, not you." Luke's tone turned icy cold. “I expect her to be left alone."

“Of course sir, my apologies."

“I trust my instructions are clear? My presence here is not to be made public knowledge."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Yes sir, I have informed the staff that there is to be total discretion as always. Ah, here we are."

The concierge stopped in front of a set of large double doors. With a flourish he withdrew a golden key from a chain around his neck, slid the key into the lock, and grandly pushed the doors open.

“Master Windhill, the Imperial Suite."

“Whoa." Azee breathed as she stepped into the elegant suite.

The walls were all brilliant white, the carpet a rich forest green with an intricate dance of golden vines and flowers sewn into it. The curtains were fine lace and silk. The whole place smelled of roses and citrus.

“This is the Master bedroom over here-" The concierge pushed open another set of white double doors, revealing a room with a huge, fluffy bed.

“And of course a second bedroom for your companions." The concierge opened a much smaller set of double doors and revealed another bedroom, with another large bed and a large pillow on the floor.

“There is a cold box in the sitting room. I also saw to it that there is a bottle of Portmans ten twenty two whiskey waiting for you there. I trust everything is to your satisfaction sir?"

Luke glanced around as if unimpressed by the splendour around him. "It's adequate. Some of our luggage was misplaced, have a shaving kit, soap, and toiletries sent up as soon as possible."

“Of course. Are you perhaps interested in attending the match tomorrow?"

“Match?"

From his pocket, the concierge produced a flyer and handed it to Luke. “There is an Iron Games Primara match. The whole town has been buzzing about it for weeks. Anyone who is staying here at the hotel has access to one of the VIP sections."

As Luke glanced disinterestedly at the flyer, Azee was able to catch a glimpse. It was the same as the flyers she had seen in the train station, though much clearer and undamaged. The faces of two pelts were sketched upon the flyer, one and canine, the other a lapine. Both had their fists raised, and beneath them were the words 'Season Semi Final'.

“Thank you, but no." Luke replied, handing the flyer back.

“As you wish sir." As the concierge set the flyer down upon the large oaken table in the centre of the room, he quietly cleared his throat. “Will there be… anything else, sir?"

Digging into his pocketbook, Luke withdrew a number of bills and handed them to the concierge. “No, that should be all. Just make certain we have fresh flowers every day."

After taking a moment to pocket his tip, the concierge bowed. “Thank you very much, and please enjoy your stay."

As soon as the Concierge left, Azee bolted for the master bedroom. She leapt into the air and landed on the bed, sinking several inches into the mountain of soft blankets and mattress as her tail wagged.

“So soft…" She moaned, rubbing her cheek against the cotton.

“It is better than rocks, but I'm not certain that this is a good idea." Eloise stated as Luke sighed with exhaustion and sat down in one of the chairs. “Telling those agents your name, and now staying here, in a fancy suite, in the most opulent hotel for a thousand miles?"

“This place is known for its discretion." Luke replied as he massaged his nose. “Not to mention my family has an account with them, so we're not spending the money, excuse me, my money, that we are carrying around. Not that we could ever afford this place with the sort of money we're carrying."

“Did your father bring you here during your 'manhood tour'?" Azee asked, spreading her arms and legs so she sank further into the fluffy bed.

Luke's face turned a little red. “Yes, we stayed here for a few days."

“Manhood tour?" Eloise raised an eyebrow. “Oh now this I must hear about."

“Azee… please… don't.."

Azee looked up from the bed, a mischievous smile crossing her face. “Well, when Luke was-"

“Azee, I'm begging you, please don't."

Beyond the exhaustion and irritation in Luke's voice was a note of genuine pleading. For a moment Azee considered continuing to speak, but instead she sighed to herself.

“It was nothing," Azee muttered. “Just something stupid that Luke's father forced him to do."

“As you wish." Eloise shrugged. Glancing over at Azee she jerked her head towards the door. “Alright, let's go."

“Go?"

Eloise nodded. “Mhmm, There's somewhere I'd like to take you."

Azee sat up quickly, tail still wagging. “Where?"

“It's a surprise. I think you'll find it quite enjoyable."

“Where exactly are you taking her?" Luke asked, opening one eye.

“Nowhere you need to worry about." Eloise held up a hand as Luke made to argue. “Don't worry, she'll be perfectly safe."

“Just like she was safe with you in the train station?"

“Do you honestly think those Order fools would have gotten their hands on Azee?" Eloise asked. “The only lives you saved, were theirs."

“Listen to me, witch-"

“Eloise can keep me safe." Azee hopped down from the bed and padded over. “I'm going with her."

“Well you aren't going to listen to me, no matter what I say." Luke sniffed. “Just try not to get caught doing something foolish, Lord knows how many more times I can rescue you before you end up getting all of us killed."

The words stung Azee more than she could have expected. Her tail stopped wagging and her ears drooped. “You're an ass, you know that."

Eloise held the door open for Azee to step out. As she started to close the door, she stuck her head back in. “For a man who accuses me of trying to drive you and Azee further apart you seem to be doing a perfectly fine job of it yourself."

Luke's only reply was a grumble.

“You're a real disappointment Windhill… As little as I expect from you, I truly thought you'd be better than this."

As the door closed, Luke stayed in his chair, listening to the footsteps moving down the hall. After a few moments he got to his feet and strode into the main room. Stepping past the luxurious sofas and elegant wingback chairs, he drew up to the oak bar along one wall. Withdrawing an etched crystal glass from a shelf, and pulling a bottle from the carved stone coldbox, Luke poured himself a glass of whisky. After swallowing the first glass in a single gulp, he poured himself another before making his way over to the large windows that overlooked the front of the hotel.

“So, you expected better?" He muttered as he pushed aside one of the curtains. “Oh witch, you have no clue the resources I can bring to bear."

Luke's eyes narrowed as he watched Eloise and Azee step out the front door of the hotel and start making their way down the street.

Stepping away from the window, Luke swallowed his second drink and started towards the door.

'Once I've freed myself from this curse, I'll rain damnation on your head the likes of which even you can't imagine!'

***

“So, what do you think of New Burleigh?" Eloise asked, glancing over her shoulder at Azee.

Azee barely heard Eloise's question as she looked around in open awe. People of all races, shapes and sizes filled the road around her, a good number of them pushing carts or carrying armfuls of goods. Many of the humans wore clothes the likes of which Azee had never seen before, from robes and cloaks that billowed around them as they walked, to finely cut suits and hats. Amongst the chaotic river of humans moved pelts of every variety, some of them well fed and groomed, others shabby and exhausted.

The buildings around her were taller than any she had ever seen, made from carved stone and brick, decorated with elegant fixtures of wrought iron and brass. A powerful melange of scents filled her nose, everything from baked goods to roses, to sewage. Even more diverse than the smells were the sounds that flooded her ears, more numerous and louder than even those in the train station. Carriages and waggons rattled by on the cobblestone, vendors called out their wares, gossiping groups of men and women argued over newspapers, overseers barked commands to their charges, it was madness.

As Azee gawked around, a cart carrying a large cask knocked into her, sending her sprawling into the road. Before she could get back to her feet, Azee looked up to see a column of uniformed men and women towering over her. Azee froze in fright, unable to move as the soldiers, their eyes locked dead ahead, bore down on her.

An instant before the column marched right over her, a hand grabbed the back of her collar and hauled her out of the way.

“Careful!" Eloise scolded, pulling Azee back to her feet. “Watch where you are going."

“S-sorry!" Azee stammered, looking back at the road as the column continued their march, seemingly having not even noticed Azee.

“Just stay close to me." Elosie commanded, grabbing hold of Azee's hand. “We'll be off the main streets soon."

Nodding quickly, Azee followed along behind Eloise.

Several more minutes of walking eventually brought Azee and Eloise to a large market square. Dozens upon dozens of stalls filled the space, selling just about every conceivable type of merchandise.

No matter how hard she tried to keep her focus on the crowd around her, Azee found her gaze wandering. It was impossible to focus on any one thing, her world was a flurried maelstrom. One moment she was hit by the overwhelming scent of spices from one stall, the next her eyes were dazzled by the wares of a jewellers shop.

“They're so pretty…“ Azee breathed, her eyes fixed on the lengths of beads and crystals, every colour of the rainbow, dangling and flashing in the light. She would have stared longer, but a gentle tug from Eloise kept her moving.

Through the chaos around her, Azee could make out several loud voices calling out over the crowds. One such voice came from a man, standing atop a barrel with a crumpled newspaper held in his fist and yelling into a crude megaphone. He wore a suit that would have been elegant at one time, but a closer look revealed it to be barely held together across his bulbous form with patches and crooked stitches. Despite his shabby appearance, the crowd was enraptured by his words.

“How can we allow Graize to lecture us, the Lord's chosen people! How can we allow them to spread these lies-" he violently shook the paper in his hands, “-to our people! To our children?! If they had their way, we would welcome the pelts into our homes as equals, only to have them slit our throats in the night!"

A rumbling roar went through the assembled crowd, with several of the listeners calling back.

“Liars!"

“Traitors!"

“And how must we meet this threat my friends?!" The man continued, throwing his arms open. “How must we deal with those that would have us butchered in our own homes, made slaves to the non-humans!"

A shiver went up Azee's spine as the crowd roared in unison, “War!"

“And then there are the writings of this filthy traitor, Kine! A so-called abolitionist! Just another barbarian, a traitor to all men!"

“Ignore them." Eloise said, gently squeezing Azee's hand as she felt her discomfort. “No one who knows what war really is would spew rubbish like that. They're just fools."

“R-right." Azee nodded, tearing her gaze away from the man as he continued to rage and shout, his face growing redder by the moment.

As Eloise and Azee moved through the throngs of people, they came upon another densely packed crowd, this one gathered around a raised wooden stage hung with bright red and silver bunting. A well dressed man in an elegant top hat and glasses stood at the front of the stage, waving a stately black cane over the crowd.

Standing just in front of the stage, flanked on either side by a pair of heavily armed and armoured order agents, stood the two pelts from the flyer that Azee had seen. On the left was the canine, his powerful arms crossed over his chest as he glared defiantly at the assembled crowd. His fur and hair were both pitch black, his eyes the same steely grey as the chains around his ankles and neck.

A few metres away stood the lapine, proudly showing off his muscles to the crowd. In stark contrast to the canine, the lapine seemed to greatly enjoy the attention being showered upon him, openly inviting the crowd to step forward and touch his arms and chest. His fur was creamy white, with only a few light brown spots upon the left side of his body, as if he'd been splashed with paint. Several members of the crowd laughed and tittered to one another as he flirted with a human woman. After a moment's hesitation she reached out and held onto his arms as he flexed, easily lifting her off the ground, much to her gleeful excitement.

“That's right folks, appearing to you now before their match tomorrow, the titans of this season, the Iron games semi finalists!" The announcer dramatically gestured at the two pelts. “Both have more than a dozen wins to their names!"

“What are the Iron games?" Azee asked, glancing at Eloise, hoping desperately that the answer wouldn't be what she suspected.

“Death matches," Eloise replied with open disgust as she glared at the man on the stage. “They used to be illegal, but they've become a national pastime in the last few years."

“So the match they're talking about…"

Eloise nodded, her expression grim. “Those two will fight each other. If they're lucky, one will kill the other."

Azee gulped hard. “W-what about the others? The 'debris'?"

With a sad smile, Eloise scratched Azee between the ears. “Well they… Look, try not to worry about it. Come on, we're almost there."

Reluctantly Azee followed Eloise as she led her away from the market square and down a narrow side street. Soon the hubbub faded, blending with the other sounds of the city that echoed across the rooftops.

The narrow street was much darker than the main roads or markets, the road well worn, deep ruts and potholes carved into the stone. The shop fronts were much shabbier and worn down by age.

Eloise glanced back at Azee “Just make sure you stay close. These back streets can be dangerous."

Azee nodded quickly and walked as close behind Eloise as she could.

The further down the street she walked, the more pelts Azee noticed wandering the street. Some of the stalls she passed even had pelts working there with nary a human in sight. All still wore collars, but they didn't have the same air of beaten down compliance as many of the slaves she knew.

“What is this place?" Azee asked, stepping to the side as a trio of young children, two felines and a human boy, ran past her in pursuit of a large rat.

“Officially, this is known as the 'Rockfold Market district'." Eloise replied, pausing to drop a coin into the outstretched cup of a beggar. “To the people around here, it's called 'Tyrant Town'."

“Are they… free?"

“No. But most of the shops are owned by some rich fop or another, some investment they made years ago and no longer have any time for. So long as they get their money they are content to let their slaves operate them. I imagine there are shops here that the 'true owners' haven't checked in on for decades."

“But… the Order…" As Azee spoke, a shop to her right caught her eye.

The sign above the entrance read 'Creedy and Sons: Fine Binding and Printing '. Just behind the window, arranged neatly on a shelf, was a collection of books, all bound in coloured leather and stencilled with beautiful gold filigree. Fountain pens with their metal polished and gleaming, and quills with expertly trimmed feathers, sat upon the lowest shelf.

As she gazed at the books, Azee felt like someone was squeezing her heart. Eloise's voice faded into the background as she stared, wide eyed, through the glass.

“The folks around here pay protection money to one of the syndicates that operate the district." Eloise continued, not noticing that Azee had stopped. “The syndicates use that money to convince the Order to look the other way."

Eloise sniffed. “In cities, the lower ranks of the Order tend to be little more than gangs of extortionists and thieves. Our experience at the Train Station should be proof enough of that."

When there was no reply from Azee, Eloise paused and glanced over her shoulder. Azee was a short distance away, her hands and nose pressed up against a shop window.

“Oi! I told you to stay close!" Eloise called out, snapping her fingers at Azee. “Now come on, we're almost there."

“Right… sorry." Azee tore herself away and jogged after Eloise.

“Everything alright," she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes… I'm sorry, I just got distracted." Azee's ears drooped.

Eloise looked from Azee to the shop and back. “Just be careful. I don't want to lose you here."

“I know…"

Reaching out, Eloise scratched Azee between the ears again. “Hey, don't get all sad-eyed on me. I just don't want to hear Windhill's endless whining if I were to misplace you."

Azee giggled, her tail starting to wag again as Eloise scratched her.

“Now, shall we continue? I think you'll like where we are going."

***

A merry 'ding' rang out as Luke pulled open a door leading into a large shop and stepped inside. The heavy oaken floorboards creaked beneath his boots as he strode towards the back of the shop. Long shelves covered with glass cases ran from the front of the shop to the back.

Sitting upon the shelves, nestled inside wooden boxes lined with straw, were small pieces of catalyst stone with glowing runes etched upon them. There were dozens of different runes, from simple spark runes, to more complex purifying runes. Of course, the runes sitting on the shelves were common, simple tools for everyday use. Behind the counter at the back of the shop, sitting behind a steel cage, reinforced with a powerful shield rune, were the more elaborate runes.

Catching a glimpse of himself in the reflection of one of the cases, Luke was relieved to see that he no longer looked quite as scruffy as he had upon first checking into the hotel. His nose still stung and his head still ached, but after a quick bath, followed by a shave and a haircut by the hotel barber, Luke felt much more like himself.

As he approached the rear of the shop, Luke noted two men, one a human, one a feline pelt, sitting just behind the counter. The human man was hunched over a red and yellow chequered game board, while the feline casually groomed himself.

“Help you?" The man mumbled, not even glancing up at Luke as he picked up a small tile of red glass and replacing it on the board, a few squares ahead of its previous position.

“I was hoping to have a word with Mister Vist."

“Mister Vist is busy." The man replied, scowling as the feline paused his grooming for a moment to casually shift two of his yellow game pieces. “I can give him a message next time he's in."

“Tell him Luke Windhill is here to see him."

Immediately the man paused and looked up. One of his eyes was made of glass, with a glowing green rune in place of a pupil. “Mister Windhill?" After a moment his eyes widened. “Lord's teeth, it is you!"

“It's been a while." Luke replied with a respectful nod. “Good to see you again, Waylon."

With a wide smile, Waylon got to his feet and grasped one of Luke's hands, shaking it vigorously. “What in damnation's name are you doing back in New Burleigh?"

“Hoping to have a word with Mister Vist. Is he around?"

“He's just in the back, tinkering with something. I'll get him for ya."

“Thank you." Luke nodded as Waylon released his hand and pushed open the door to the back room.

Leaning against the counter, Luke took a moment to glance at the game board, it was obvious that the outcome had been decided some time ago.

“So, has he managed to beat you yet?" Luke asked.

“Not yet, master Windhill."

“I'm not your master any more, Lint." Luke replied, glancing at the feline. “Waylon bought you fair and square. You belong to him now."

“Yes sir." A gentle smile worked its way across Lint's face as he glanced over his shoulder, in the direction Waylon had gone. “I do at that…"

Luke couldn't help but smile at the contented, peaceful expression that Lint wore. In the days when Waylon had worked at the Windhill Ranch, he'd taken a keen interest in Lint, a slave whose most notable features were his clever tongue and resourcefulness. Waylon's affections had been openly and freely returned, much to the concern of the other overseers.

Lint had always been a tinkerer, creating little gadgets from whatever pieces of refuse he could find, everything from rat traps, to a crude pair of shears, to a lock picking tool he'd crafted as part of an escape attempt. He'd also been a master at games, racking up a considerable number of wins against the overseers at just about any game he was taught. Snyder had often commented that Lint was too smart for his own good, to which Luke had grudgingly agreed. So when Waylon had asked to purchase Lint, Luke hadn't taken much convincing.

After a few moments, Lint turned back to Luke. “How is the Ranch?"

“Running well, mostly quiet. Been a hot couple years, dry too. Of course with prices lower than a cellar rat's belly the last few years, and with all the new taxes to pay for the militia, keeping up hasn't been easy."

“I see… And Fray, is she still there?"

“Yes, she's doing just fine."

“And what about that girl that followed you around everywhere, the one with the long tail-"

Before Lint could finish his question, the back door opened again and Waylon re-entered the shop, pushing a wheelchair. A small, middle aged man with snow white hair and a pair of almost comically thick spectacles balanced on his nose, sat within the chair. Burn scars covered his hands and arms, the skin rough like crumpled parchment.

As the man noticed Luke, his mouth cracked into a smile. “Well, as I live and breathe, Luke Windhill. What a pleasure it is to have you back in my shop."

Luke smiled in return, offering his hand. “The pleasure is mine, Mister Vist. How have you been sir?"

Ellmer Vist took Luke's hand and shook it firmly. “Oh much the same, trying to stay competitive. The wife's been pushing me to retire, but what can I say, the work sustains me."

Releasing Luke's hand, Ellmer reached into his jacket and withdrew a small piece of catalyst crystal. “Here, let me show you something."

As Ellmer set the crystal on the counter, Luke leaned close to examine the glowing rune etched into the surface. “Hmmm…"

“So, what do you think?"

“I'm… not certain. I don't recognize this rune at all."

“I'm not surprised." Ellmer's smile widened. “Considering I discovered it just last season."

Luke's eyes widened. “You mean… you discovered a new rune?!"

“It would seem so."

“But… the last rune to be discovered was… almost ten years ago!"

“Mhmm." Ellmer carefully picked up the crystal, turning it over and over in his hand. “The only thing I still need to do is to calculate the binding channel. Once I've done that, this little beauty here will change everything."

“What does it do?"

“It's an integrated cooling rune."

Luke raised an incredulous eyebrow. “But… we already have cooling runes."

“No, we have runes that generate a cooling effect to the air around an object, to the surface of a thing. What this does is draws heat out of an object, like poison from a wound. With this, you could draw the heat away from say, a shield rune, to prevent it overheating."

“Or a weapon, even parts of an engine. The uses for this rune are… well they are endless." Luke shook his head in amazement. “You're right, this will change everything."

“There is just one small problem." Ellmer sighed heavily. “I need more catalyst crystal to carry out my experiments. But with the cost of raw crystal going through the roof thanks to Graize, I'm having trouble getting my hands on any."

“I see… So you have a business proposition."

“Something like that, yes. I could sell this rune now, but without the binding channel, it's incomplete. I wouldn't get near what it's worth. But… if I could get my hands on some more catalyst crystal, say… about fifteen thousand Larics worth, I could finish it and maintain the patent."

“Fifteen thousand…" Luke nodded, stroking his chin. “But I take it I'm not the first person you've approached."

“I've also spoken with Edmund Gallaway, he was in town about half a season back."

“Gallaway…" Luke's gaze darkened. 'The ones my mother sold Azee to… the ones who hurt her…'

Keeping his voice steady, Luke crossed his arms. “And how much did the Gallaway's give you?"

“Eleven thousand with eighteen interest for forty percent."

“Mmmm, not exactly what I would call generous. Tell you what, if you give Gallaway back his money, I'll give you sixteen thousand for twenty five percent."

Ellmer, Walyon and Lint all stared at Luke in stunned silence for a few moments.

Ellmer was the first to speak, clearing his throat and straightening his collar. “I… What about the interest?"

“No interest." The corners of Luke's mouth turned up a little. “We'll call it a thank you for cutting Gallaway out of the deal."

“So this is a…vendetta?"

“Call it a punishment, one that benefits us both."

“Well…"

“You showed me that rune for one reason, because you wanted me to invest. Well here I am, offering you exactly what you need. So, you can take my offer, in which case I will write you a cheque today, or you can keep shopping around for other investors." Luke crossed his arms. “What's it to be?"

For a few moments, Ellmer simply stared, his eyes darting across Luke as he watched him for any sign of trickery. Waylon too was silent as he studied Luke intently. Lint was the only one who seemed unconcerned, a small smile playing about his muzzle.

Finally, with a low chuckle, Ellmer extended his hand. “I do believe we have a deal, Mister Windhill."

“Good, I'll see to it that you have your money by end of day tomorrow." Luke replied, grasping Ellmer's hand firmly.

“Seems you take after your father after all."

Luke paused. “In what regard?"

“The way you do business, straight and to the point." Ellmer smiled. “I can appreciate that."

“I'm glad to hear it. Now-" Luke leaned back against the counter and tapped his chest where Eloise had buried the crystal under his skin. “-there is something else I'd like to discuss."

End of Part 24