“It’s definitely his, then?” Dar reaches out very tentatively from her crouch, which at her height honestly ain’t necessary, but she hunkered down with us all the same, albeit on Zul’s far side, which says enough. Keeping her distance from me, under the circumstances. Making a point, anybody can see it. Extending her index finger, she gingerly gives the hilt of the sword a little tap, and the whole thing wobbles where it’s still jammed in the gouged brick. It’s really wedged in there, looks like.
“Definitely his, yeah.” In truth, I don’t even need to sniff the blade, even if the dominant scent I’m getting is the oil that’s been used to clean the steel. The air in this part of the alley’s thick with smells just as I would’ve expected, but the strongest, freshest scent I could pick out of a crowd on a very hot day indeed. It’s one I know almost as well as those of the two crouched here with me now.
Zul doesn’t say anything as he finally reaches out and gently settles the blade. He lets his fingers linger for a few moments longer on the hilt, frowning darkly at it, looking like he’s on the verge of violence now. He’s not, but I know full well he’s a turmoil of emotions inside right now. Zul knew him best, they were closest out of all of us, least in the beginning. Before we started training in earnest.
“When’s last time you saw ‘im?” I ask once the silence grows too much for me.
Darwyn shoots me a warning glare, but I ignore it. I ain’t rising to her bait now any more’n I’ve risen to any of her other shit since we left the Arrowhead. I got about as much interest in revisiting that pit of shite as I got in asking Big Man for a deep tissue massage.
For his part, Zuldrad just takes his hand away from the hilt at last, his frown deepening further still. For a moment I think he hasn’t even heard me, but as his jaw works with clear tension he finally turns to me, and with his lenses on now I can’t make out his eyes anymore, but I know he’s giving me a long, cool regard. Finally he lets out a breath that’s mostly a hiss between his sharp teeth, and stands up again. “Five years now, at least. Wasn’t a pleasant meeting, either.”
This time Dar’s glare is openly hostile, but I just roll my eyes as I straighten up too. I know Zul ain’t pissed at me, just at fate for bringing Granzun back into our lives again. So I just take a breath and wait for him to decide he wants to talk, but for now he clearly prefers to maintain his silence. He’ll talk about it when it suits him, or when he has to. Not before.
“All right … how’s that feel?”
Krakka’s low rasp gets my attention at last and I’m reminded of what I found when we first came to this chaotic little corner of the city. Gael’s still sat back against the wall, but they’re working their right arm now, gripping and flexing their hand, watching the fingers move as they let out a slow breath. Their colour’s already better, still pale but nothing like the stricken, ash-coloured pallor I remember seeing when Tulen ported us in. The relief in their face is clear, telling me the pain’s gone now, the damage mended, our cleric’s god magic once again doing its trick. Finally they manage a tight smile, but I can tell how sheepishly embarrassed they’re feeling.
“Thank you.” they breathe, reaching up with their left hand to press their shoulder while giving it a few little socket-rolls. It’s taken a while to mend, but bones are like that, they take time for Krakka to fix and they’re tricky, and this was an especially complex joint. It’s growing dark now, the sky a very deep blue turning to a dark purple that’s starting to show a few stars. If it weren’t for Tulen those of us without nightvision would be starting to have trouble seeing in here now.
Once Kesla and the remaining few of our group had finally arrived and it looked like we might be here for a little while yet, she worked a little spell, pulling a few little things from her components bag and working a simple sigil in the air. Then she threw the whole mess together and the glowing symbol turned into an orange-sized globe of bright white light that slowly climbed to a ten foot height above us. It’s a somewhat odd, uncanny light, picking things out a little too sharp and clear at times for my own tastes, but it’s effective all the same. It's also the main reason Zul’s kept his lenses on.
Stepping up at last, I offer up my hand as I work to make my face as cool and relaxed as I can, not wanting to let Gael see just how rattled seeing them so hurt got me. “Need a hand?”
They blink at it for a moment, then up at me, and I can’t help thinking, as I look into those bright blue eyes, that they can see right through me now. I know they’ve bounced back from what happened to ‘em well enough, but still, there’s been something … I don’t know, a little different in them since. Subtle, almost small enough to miss entirely, but something all the same. They ain’t acknowledged it yet, and neither have I. I’m leaving it up to them. But I been worried about it since, and I’ve tried damn hard to keep that to myself whenever I’m round ‘em. Well enough I forget about it, most times. But then this shit happens and it’s all come flooding right back again. Likely it’s written all over my face.
They only watch me for a moment more, but something’s going on behind their eyes that I can’t quite fathom, which surprises me. Often they can be quite easy for me to read, but not this time. But they reach up and accept my hand all the same.
Even though they’re taller, they’re no heavier than I am, so I barely even have to lean back to help ‘em pull themselves up. If there’s any strain put on their newly mended shoulder it doesn’t show as they plant their feet at last, breathing a low: “Thank you, too.” just for me, which makes me smile again, the first one I managed since this started.
“You’re cool. Just stop jumping into trouble like this, will you? I thought you were s’posed to be smarter’n that.”
The look Gael gives me is clearly intended to slice me with their clear indignation, but I just smile right back through, and they can’t hold onto it. I wasn’t being serious, and they know it. “You arse.” they finally growl, giving me a little thump in my own shoulder while they lose the fight to keep their own smile from forming.
“He’s right, though, joke or no.” Kesla’s at our side now, which surprises me as much as Gael. The look on her face is mostly reproach, but there’s subtle relief bubbling away underneath it. She’s glad as I am Gael’s misfortune was something Krakka could fix so easy this time. “You gotta be more careful.”
“Hey, they had a wizard of their own, and she dropped an orc on me.” Gael’s doing well to stand up to Kesla, especially in the face of that underlying concern that they’ve surely picked up on as well as I have. “A bloody big one, at that. I had no way to see that coming, so I had to roll with it, like you taught me.”
Kesla looks them over for a long moment, then finally lets out a deep sigh. “Yeah, well you got bloody lucky that they clearly weren’t here to kill you. From what I’ve been able to gather about what happened, those two literally just turned up to cover their own arses.” She raises her hand and passes what she’s holding to Gael – their sword, which they pause before taking. “But yeah, I guess maybe you did okay. Sounds like you handled your shit this time.”
Gael cocks a brow as they turn the weapon round in their hand, giving her a moment’s cool regard before looking at the blade instead. They frown, and when I look down at the length of sharpened steel too I’m a beat or two slow getting what’s stumping me. “Oh … yeah, I forgot about that.”
“Who was that?” Kesla wonders as she catches the significance of the small amount of blood striping the blade. “The orc?”
“No, I didn’t get that lucky.” Gael keeps the tip pointed up as they start rummaging through their pockets, finally coming up with one of their weird little squares of thin white linen. Something called a handkerchief, I understand the concept but I never seen the point in them myself. Far as I can work out it’s a privileged person’s thing. In truth I almost never see Gael using one either. “This was from the other one.”
“The wizard?” Kesla arches her brows, unable to quite keep the hope out of her voice.
“Ha!” Gael shakes the fabric open and gently wipes it up and down the edge to remove the worst of the blood. “That’d be something, wouldn’t it? No, the other one. The leader of these idiots. Some cocky fellow wearing a flashy wolf mask.”
“You fought him?” The accented voice surprises me. It’s soft but a little gritty, a bit like Kesla’s but not quite so deeply husky. I turn with the others to find the dwarf woman stepping up to us, looking at Gael with a mixture of expectation and subtle frustration. “That bastard was mine. He ain’t with the dead. Got away, did he?”
“For now.” Gael finishes her cleaning and flips her hand over, offering the now heavily stained handkerchief to me. “But with this, I just might be able to trace him.”
Frowning, I reach out with a little reluctance and extend my claws just enough that I can take hold of the linen without having to handle it too much. “Charmin’.”
This makes Gael grin wide as she finally sheathes her sword. “Magic can be messy sometimes, Art. But there’s a lot of power in blood. This will be very helpful.” She plucks the linen cloth from my fingers once again and starts to fold it into a tight little square. “Hopefully.”
“Why don’t I like the sound o’ that?” The dwarf’s frown deepens.
“Well, if that wizard is what I think she is, she’ll know pretty much everything I and Tulen do, so she’ll make that connection as soon as she sees that I cut him. We’ve already had a pretty good indication of some of what these people are capable of, what with those lethal tattoos they’ve slapped on all their people. If they don’t want any of them talking –”
“They’re apt to cut his throat an’ call it survival.” Kesla growls, her own frown as dark as the dwarf woman’s. “There any way they can just block your trace?”
“Oh yes, of course.” Gael shrugs. “If this was our only lead I’d be a little more concerned about it. But since it isn’t …” She looks past Kesla now.
The other dwarf’s stood over our one surviving captive now, leaning on one of the biggest warhammers I’ve ever seen in my life, substantial enough to give Bloodmoon trouble in a scrap, I should think. The look he’s giving the battered young man could be mistaken for boredom, but there’s a steeliness to it that’s impressively intimidating. Certainly it’s having the desired effect on the boy, who’s sat where he’s been left with his bound hands dangling between his raised kneed, his face slick with sweat but still a good deal healthier than any of the others’. The goblin’s crouched across from him, his own glare a good deal more blatantly sharp, although I doubt his own face is capable of a great deal of variety.
Big Man stands several paces off, back to the nearer wall, and I don’t think he’s moved since he first took up position there after he arrived. Not that he needs to, we know he’s fully aware of everything happening within a substantial range of this whole scene. Yeslee’s camped out at the end of the alley, watching what’s going on in the street beyond, and while I can’t see her past the golem I know she’ll have an arrow nocked even if it ain’t drawn. Just in case …
“So why ain’t this one dead like the others?” Kesla strokes her chin, less thoughtful than fretful in this moment if I’m honest. “We all saw what happens. Even if they ain’t mortally wounded, they still cark it. What’s so special ‘bout this one?”
“It’s a stumper, I’ll give it that.” I scratch the back of my head, frowning myself.
“Well I gave him a beating, the same as the others received.” Gael casts about now as she stuffs the folded cloth into her components bag, frowning too, but I don’t think it’s over the current conundrum. Finally she snaps her fingers and steps past Kesla, stooping close to the far wall of the alley so she can retrieve her staff from the gutter. She continues to frown as she regards the grime now smeared on the metal shaft. “Lovely.”
“Maybe they put his on wrong?” the dwarf woman ventures.
“No, I highly doubt that would be the case.” Gael shakes another of her handkerchiefs loose and sets about wiping her staff clean, a look of controlled distaste touching her face now. “As I said, their wizard likely had the same training I did, and what I saw tells me she’s definitely accomplished. The fact that it has worked on all the others means that she’s clearly very good at her own craft, and since the tattoos themselves are clearly magical in their nature then she was at least partly involved in the creation of each one. I’m sure she’d check each and every one of them was working before letting it pass, so that sigil will be as primed as the others were.”
“And yet it didn’t go off.” Kesla breathes out deep through her nose as she regards our prisoner for a long beat. “Wait. Gael … what was that you said about blood earlier?”
“That I might be able to use it to track the other one down. Maybe. But I said don’t bank on it, because they’re perfectly capable of foiling me on that route.”
“No. Before. The other thing. About it having power, I think.”
“Oh … yes. I did.” They blink, cocking their brow again as they look up from their cleaning. “It does. We tend to use blood in many of the most powerful spells we cast, either as a catalyst or a conductor. Sometimes it’s used to bind the spell to a specific recipient, or we might use our own if we need to seal a pact for a desired effect, or –”
“You didn’t draw his blood, did you?”
Gael looks at her for a long time, their frown deepening again. Not getting it. I’ll admit, I’m stumped for a stretch before I make the connection too. “Well … no, I suppose not. I was using this, not my sword. I didn’t want to kill him, I thought that was the whole point. After all, we need him alive … oh … oh, now that is clever. Devious, even.”
“You have to draw blood for the curse to work?” I look round at all the other bodies. Every one is bloodied or cleaved in some way. Gael even cut that other one, apparently, although clearly he was still kicking enough to get away. And the ones we fought before, up on the rooftops, they were all shot too, or … yeah, that’s right. I used my darts on that one that Shay saw die. As for the ones that fell or got thrown off the roofs, they were all broken when they hit the ground. But not this one. Gael just beat on him some. They never broke his skin. At worse there’s some bruising, maybe a fracture or too, but no bleeding. And that’s the difference.
“Blood is the trigger.” Gael finishes her cleaning at last, then looks down at the handkerchief in her hand. It’s an unpleasant, grimy mess now. “Yuck.” She tosses it away without ceremony.
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“Yeah, looks like.” Kesla puffs her cheeks out, rubbing at the back of her neck as she continues to regard the boy. “Until they work out we got him, maybe. Y’know how this spell works, then?”
“Not exactly. I know a fair few curses, mostly just so I know how to counter them. I’ve never had cause or any inclination to actually use any of them. But this one … it’s strange magic, different from most. I mean all right, there are some similarities to some of the more potent blood curses, but … it’s strange, nasty stuff, to tell the truth. Almost like –”
“Like something Ashsong would’ve cooked up.” I beat Kesla to that particular punchline, and she scowls, not from being trounced but simply the implication I’ve just laid bare. I hate it as much as she does, really. “You reckon that might’ve been another warlock, then?”
“Gods, I hope not …” Gael frowns at the ground for a few moments, angrily thoughtful now, gripping their staff tight now as they lean into it. “No, I don’t think so. It’s pretty esoteric magic, but there’s nothing inherently eldritch about it. I’d definitely be curious to find out where they found that particular curse.”
“Maybe you’ll get a chance when we catch ‘em.” Kesla brushes her hair back over her head with both hands. “You said you know how to counter curses. Reckon you can do this one?”
“In theory, yes. It’s likely to be tricky, though.”
“I could certainly help with that.” Tulen surprises us all by speaking up then, I honestly didn’t realise she was there. When Gael turns to face her they smile fondly, and there’s definitely some small relief in her expression. “Counter-curses was one of the main requirements in training for my position in the Citadel, since we handle so many dangerous artifacts.”
“Good. I want to two of you keeping a close eye on our young guest there. Make sure he stays alive.” Kesla squares her shoulders as she lays one hand on the hilt of her sword, the other on her corresponding hip. She regards us all for a moment, particularly lingering on the dwarf woman. Finally she turns back to Gael, letting out a little sigh as her expression starts to soften. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me too.” Gael sighs after a moment, seeming a little sheepish now. Tulen reaches out and wraps her arm around their shoulders, giving them a companionable squeeze.
“So …” Kesla sighs again, and this one’s a good deal more weary. Reckon I can commiserate with how she’s feeling, it’s been a bloody long day. “This was a merry mess, but we finally got a decent result. I’d call that a win, wouldn’t you?”
“After a fashion.” the dwarf allows, a little sharp in her delivery now as she largely mirrors Kesla’s stance, looking up at her with a wary frown. “Still love to know who all you folk are, mind. I mean, clearly you got a stake in this same as us, but I’d be more comfortable if I knew what it was.”
Kesla shoots me a look, cocking her brow just a little, and I swear there’s just a spark of amusement in her now that I find in myself too. Letting a crooked half-smile touch her lips that I can’t help mirroring, she extends her hand to her. “Kesla Shoon. We’re the Creeping Bam, ‘least some of us are. We’re here taking coin from the Silver Order. Looking for one o’ their own’s gone missing.”
Looking at the offered hand for a moment, the dwarf woman cocks her head and gives Kesla a cool look-over before reaching out herself to accept it. The shake looks firm, Kesla’s brow quirking a touch higher at it, and the newcomer holds on for a moment longer as she offers up: “Thelgaewynn Frostforge. Afraid we ain’t got a fancy name like you lot, but then we never really had need of one. We tend to go where there’s work, instead of the work coming to us.”
“Well you seem capable enough from what I saw.” Kesla turns to look back at the other two members of their party. “And your friends?”
“Dumoli Bitterbrow. As for the goblin, all he’s ever given us of a name is Brung. Ain’t much for talking, really.” The way she looks up at Kesla when she says that almost seems like a challenge.
“They don’t tend to be, I found.” If she notices the implication she doesn’t rise to it. We’ve fought our share of goblins in our time, but only ever in defence of life, our own or others’. This one seems particularly civilised, but I’d hardly call him an anomaly. Then she nods to me. “This is Art of Shadows.”
I’m jolted out of my reverie a little as the dwarf looks my way, giving me as close a once-over with her impressively sharp eyes as she did Kesla before finally offering her hand first so I have to scramble to catch up. “Um … yeah. Hi. So … Thelgaewynn?”
“Thel. Just call me Thel.” Her grip really is powerful, but I’m not surprised. Dwarves tend to be short, but they’re built for strength, all muscle and stubborn determination, which seems to fit here. She’s cute, too, maybe a little different to how my taste usually runs, but definitely easy on my eyes. I try a cocky, charming grin and all I get for it is the slightest quirk of a brow that feels witheringly dismissive. As she finally lets go I look up at Kesla and see an amused little smile touch her lips, and it’s all I can do to keep from scowling at her.
“And this is our wizard, Gael Foxtail.”
Gael reaches down without needing to be prompted, and Thel takes their hand immediately, giving it what’s clearly a more modest, gentle pump than the one she gave me. Not afraid to make a point then, this one. Seems about right. “Pleased to meet you.”
“So you’re Silver Order, then?” Thel looks both Gael and Tulen over, as thorough in her regard of them as she’s been with the rest of us. I’m getting the impression she might be one of the sharpest people in this entire alley right now.
“Tulen is.” Gael nods to her friend, who blinks at them for a moment before venturing a disarming smile that’s maybe a little too full of sharp teeth to really work. “I mean, yeah … I am too, but really I’m with the Creeping Bam first. At least that’s the way I see it.”
“It’s how we see it too.” I say it as seriously as I can, squaring up a little bit as I speak before realising what I’m doing. I feel my cheeks start to flush and again I’m thankful I’m covered in fur. I see Kesla roll her eyes and deal her a cold glare, but Gael’s smiling at me now, their own cheeks colouring a little.
“Tulen Kelsira.” She holds out her own hand, and it’s clear she’s trying to maintain her smile but it’s starting to turn a bit nervous now, and I don’t blame her. The way Thel looks at everyone’s almost as strong as Yeslee’s glare when she’s proper evaluating something. “Um … I’m new to the field, really, but yes. I’m very much here representing the Order.”
“Then it’s you we need to be talking to then, I’d say. A friend told us if we came to the Round we could probably find help from the Order, so we came looking. Wasn’t really expecting the help to come from fighters, but it’s appreciated all the same.” Thel regards Tulen for a moment longer, then finally accepts her hand too.
“We’re all here together, really.” Kesla interjects, folding her arms with a sterner look now. “The Order hired the Creeping Bam, and Mistress Kelsira here’s mostly just tagging along for Gael’s sake. We been looking for you, actually.”
Thel’s eyes meet Kesla’s again, narrowing tightly. “Us? What for? Nobody’s been taking us seriously, ‘cept maybe these arseholes. Mostly we just come up against a load of dead ends.”
“So have we, but one of ‘em nonetheless pointed us to you. We heard you been looking for missing folk same as us, and what we just went through proves we’re both after the same bunch o’ bastards.”
Watching her for another thoughtful stretch, Thel finally lets out a deep sigh and twitches her hair from her eyes again as she turns back to her two friends. “Du, looks like we’re covered. Seems these are who we been waiting for.”
The other dwarf looks us over now, his goblin friend joining him in a much more discomfiting examination. “You’re sure about that? Just because they turned up in the middle of our fight doesn’t automatically mean they’re on our side.”
“These two are Silver Order. Like Grel said, we should find some.” Thel cocks her head. “You’re the expert, Du. They on the level?”
Dumoli looks at Gael and Tulen with an even more critical eye, which I wouldn’t have thought was quite possible, then simply steps away from his charge, leaving Brung to guard the wounded prisoner on his own. To his credit, the goblin just steps right up to stand right over the boy, that fanged snout barely a foot away from his own as he presses himself right into the wall in nervous surprise. Those blazing bright yellow eyes are locked on his target now, unblinking as they are unflinching. I can’t help smiling a little, it’s kind of endearing. Reckon I get why they’re so comfortable having him round.
Finally stopping just a foot short of me, Dumoli gives the pair one last look-over. Finally his expression starts to soften again as he lets out a slow breath. “Yeah, they seem pretty legit to me. You locals, then?”
“No, Du. ‘Parently they’re here for the same shit we are, just different day.” Thel gives Kesla a more complex look. “They’re sellswords, mostly. Like us. This one’s proper Order, they hired the Creeping Bam to help find some missing folk.”
“The Creeping Bam?” Dumoli’s brow cocks and I wait for the incredulity, but it doesn’t come. Instead he regards Kelsa too, critical again, but with a good deal less hostility underlying it now. “I’ve heard that name a few times recently, actually. Apparently they mostly work the Northern Reaches. This is a good deal further south for you, I should think.”
“We go where we’re sent, Master Bitterbrow.” Kesla replies, earning a further brow raise at her formal address. “Besides, Art here’s a native of these climes. As for our business, well, Gael’s da’s one o’ the missing.”
“That so?” His critical eye turns from mine to Gael, which is a relief, but only a small one.
Thel’s regarding them again too, but her frown suggests she’s going over things in her head. “Foxtail … as in Darion Foxtail?”
Now Dumoli’s regard softens a little, although I’m not sure if it’s at the mention of that particular name or the slightly squirmy look that starts to cross Gael’s face as their cheeks flush again. “Well now that is interesting.”
“All right, so my father’s famous, it’s not such a big deal really.” Gael waves their hand about dismissively, getting redder still as they’re clearly growing flustered, and I shoot Kesla a look of warning now. This really ain’t fair, not right now. Far as I can tell she ignores me.
“Honestly, I think it’s more worrying than interesting, anyway.” Tulen interjects, clearly siding with me on the matter. “If someone of Darion’s power and talent can fall foul of these people then it doesn’t bode well for us, surely.”
Dumoli looks to Thel, and their fresh intrigue seems to sour a little together. The dwarf woman starts to frown as she flicks her hair out her eyes again, while her companion grimaces. “Good point. I don’t like that idea any more than you do.”
“It’s a quandary, you’re right there.” Thel sighs.
“Yeah, well, it’s been a long day, and this is a big mess we’re standing in the middle of. I don’t wanna push our luck any more’n we can get away with, so …” Kesla turns to look back towards my fellow Guild members, who are still stood next to the stuck sword. They don’t look too comfortable being round each other, and a I suspect Dar’s been giving Zul a bit of a rough time about our continued association since this all started earlier today.
Finally Kesla turns back to Gael, who’s leaning into their staff with another tight two-handed grip while they try to avoid everyone’s eyes. They’re taken a little by surprise when Kesla speaks directly to ‘em. “You’re all right now, then?”
“What?” They scrabble for a beat, trying to work out what she means. “Um … oh, yes. It’ll serve, I suppose. I’m a little tired, though.”
“Reckon that makes all of us.” She reaches out now to give their good shoulder a companionable squeeze, then turns to Tulen. “I trust you got through to Daste, right?”
Gael’s friend blinks, a little surprised by the sudden swerve in the conversation, but catches up quick enough. “Oh, yes. She’s aware now, and I sent your warning along with the message. She’s being very careful about who she’s sending and who she informs. Sounds a little overly paranoid, to be honest, but I did as you asked.”
“Let’s just hope I was being paranoid. Last thing we need is to tip ‘em off any more’n they already are about what went down here. And I don’t wanna be here any longer, just in case the townsguard suddenly decide to get their act together and follow up on all this noise. Or worse, if the Terrors stumble on us out here with a load of proper suspicious corpses, ‘specially after dark.” She turns to me now. “Your friends on the ball?”
This time it’s my turn to wonder about what she’s driving at, but then I remember. Nodding, I turn to my former companions again. “Dar!”
She jumps a little as I clearly snap her out of a fretful reverie, and the glare she casts my way is pure venom. “What?”
“Don’t gimme that shit.” I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Your little protégé still around?”
Despite my warning, she still gives me another moment’s hard stare for good measure before turning back to whistle down the far end of the alley. Bare seconds later the diminutive form of the scrawny urchin boy she introduced us to as Joe comes jogging out of the gloom, stopping just short of Dar and giving me essentially the same suspicious look as the first time we saw each other. He’s around seven or so, filthy and mop-haired and shabby, but already he’s close to her height, which I couldn’t resist giving her a little dig about earlier.
Through the corner of my eye I see Thel shift warily, her hand going back to the axe on her right hip, but she seems to relax a little as she makes the connection. Clearly coming to the same conclusion the others did when introduced to some of the Guild’s youngest members, those still in training that form our plain sight intelligence network. I remember those days myself, when we were just starting to learn the ropes, and we spent most of our downtime keeping our eyes open for anything our seniors might be able to use, whether information or opportunity. Looking back I ain’t sure I’m all that fond of ‘em any more.
Dar gives me a look now, cocking her head, and while it’s still mostly contemptuous seems there’s a little curiosity now. Wondering what I want, but she won’t do me the favour of asking straight out so she expects me to just read her meaning. This time I can’t quite help rolling my eyes a touch. “How’s it looking out there?”
Joe regards me for another beat before turning to Dar, who nods. Wiping his nose on his sleeve, he turns back to me as he lets out a heavy sigh laden with irritation, then instead of answering directly he leans in to whisper in her ear.
“So far we’re clear.” She relays it with a voice rife with irritation. “Guards ain’t come calling yet, but reckon it’s more cuz this weren’t actually all that loud in the end. Terrors ain’t shown yet, either. You’re good for now.”
“Fine. Maybe send Cobb a little request to do a little mop-up, just in case?”
Cocking her head the other way, Dar’s look becomes even more sarcastic now. “I know how this shit works, fur-brain. We’re on it already.”
I almost have to bite my tongue to stop the retort that wants to spring back at her, instead counting to ten before I finally plough on. “Yeah, I get that. I know how it works too, after all. Your lad there seen anything else? Besides us and them and all this shit, anything else at all that looks suspicious. Y’know?”
“How the hell would I know that? That’s one fucking vague-arse question you just asked for after hours in this part of Untermer.”
This time I just give her a glare of equal magnitude to the evil ones she’s been casting, and after a long beat she growls under her breath before turning back to Joe and leaning close to his ear so they can have another whispered little conference. This one seems to go on for what feels like a minute or more, but I suspect it’s just my continuing irritation at this situation that’s just gnawing on me. Finally she steps away, patting him on the shoulder, and the boy gives me another icy look before turning and running from the alley again at a much harder pelt than he came in with.
“Oh for the love of … oi! We weren’t done with –”
“Joe said there’s been nothing suspicious in the area ‘sides what we already know about, Art. No strangers they can’t account for, nothing out the ordinary. Just us, and this. Far as he’s concerned your golem’s the craziest shit he’s seen here all month.” She cocks her head as she sets her hands on her hips, leaning onto her left foot that way she always did, used to make me crazy. Tell the truth there’s a little part of me starts waking up again seeing it. Even with that expression she’s wearing. “Less you wanted to ask him something I can’t begin to fathom, we don’t need ‘em any more tonight, do we?”
To be honest, I can’t really fault her logic. I look at her for a moment longer, then tear my eyes away, inwardly chastising myself for even thinking about entertaining any of those thoughts again, and turn back to Kesla. Looks like she’s just been waiting the whole time, arms folded, her own head cocked, looking down at me with a surprising amount of patience. “Yeah, reckon that’s that.”
“Good. I don’t wanna be here anymore, we tempted fate enough already.” She looks round for a moment longer, but no longer taking in the scene, now more like she’s counting heads of the living. A little frown touches her brow now. “Where’s Shay?”
“Oh …” I turn back to look down to the far end of the alley, past Dar and Zul. Beyond the illumination of the hanging globe, where the shadows are drawn in tight now, but I can still make her out well enough. Almost all the way at the end, leaning against the wall, looking out into the street beyond. “She’s down there. Said she wanted to keep an eye out that way, just in case.” I lick my lips as I turn back to Kesla, not quite sure how I’m gonna phrase it. “She … I dunno … reckon something might be off with ‘er.”
Kesla looks past me, all the way to the end, but even if the light overhead wasn’t killing any chance for her own nightvision I doubt she’d be able to see the half-orc now anyway. Her frown deepens, and there’s concern under it again. “Right … okay, Art, I need you an’ yours to help pack up what you can. Might as well check the bodies over before we light out, but make sure nothing happens to the live one, okay?”
“Sure thing, boss. What you gonna be doing?”
For a moment it’s like she’s debating whether to be straight with me or not, but I don’t think that’s it. Instead she simply gives Gael a little tap on the shoulder, signalling for her to follow, which prompts a slight eyebrow raise but they come along quick enough as she heads past me. Kesla pauses a little short of Dar and Zul, though, looking down at the sword in the wall for a long moment before turning back to me again.
“By the way, what exactly is the deal with that orc?”
Managing to keep myself from wincing, I just take a deep breath and kick my feet a little, trying to put my best unflustered face on. It don’t feel too convincing to me. “Honestly? Tell you ‘bout it later, yeah boss?”
Her look convinces me she sees right through me, but this seems to be good enough for now since she simply nods. “Sure. We’ll talk about that once we’re settled.” Then she gives me a sharp look and I realise there was more to that statement than even I was thinking about, and it looks like she’s ahead of me again. Ain’t like it’s the first time.