Chapter Twenty

The big wolf guarding the entrance to our box seats was, to put it mildly, a goddamn giant. He stood five or six hands taller than me at least, by comparison, Rollo the other day was a puppy. But he was also very professional, opening the door after only stopping me long enough to ask who Loysa was. After I explained that she was my party member, he let us right through.

The box seats themselves were at the top of a long flight of steps, and I really have to say, for once, my expectations were on point. There was a wide curved and leather cushioned single seat on a platform that had three small steps meant obviously for a goblin’s stride, right in the center. Against one wall was what I can only describe as a humidor in which rolled up white leaves sat in neat little compartmentalized stacks with various gold embossed labels in front. ‘Pepper Gold’ and ‘Silk Passion’ and ‘Partagian Black’ to name a few. I had no idea what those names were supposed to mean, but while I’d seen people smoking these things, I hadn’t seen it from anyone who was poorly dressed.

The humidor itself had a glass face but was framed by a kind of piano finish polish of gold and mahogany red, I could see my distorted reflection staring back at me. Next to that was a series of shelves with various fancy looking bottles with intricate filigree etchings, and against the opposite wall was a cart full of various sweet treats, when I came close, I felt the warmth of the surface, and saw the faintest blue glow from beneath the cart.

“Magic, to keep it warm and fresh.” Loysa explained. But that was needless, even I could recognize that much.

You might be wondering, what’s the point of box seats to watch two dots, from this high up at least, swing on each other until one stops moving.

But that wasn’t a problem. At the open end of the box seating there was a set of angled glass panes, they acted like a telescope, and when I sat down on the curved seat and looked on, I could see the arena up close, as if I were right down on the front row, or better. I could practically count the cracks in the granite ground.

“So this is how rich people live.” I whistled, my ears twitched and tails wagged.

“Yes.” Loysa said and went to pour herself a drink, as the glass she held and the glass of the bottle made their little ‘tink’ noise of touching one another she added, “That’s the promise of Kuduru. The Goddess of theft, mischief, trickery… many things really. But also of opportunity and fertile grounds. She is the Goddess I serve. And other than being… pushy, I’d never choose another.”

Loysa poured a second one, added ice, and brought both drinks to where I sat. In my world, only drunkards started taking in alcohol before noon. But here? Here that didn’t seem to be an issue. I wondered how the water quality was… and then recalling what I knew of the Thames river in 19th century London… I regretted the thought and accepted the amber dark refreshment.

I realized just then that that’s the first time she’s actually identified her Goddess to me directly. “She promises prosperity to the devout, trades favors in luck and success, but always at a price. Sometimes a terrible price.”

She held out her glass and I touched the tip of mine to hers as she sat down.

“That’s like all the other Gods and Goddesses.” I heard the voice of the goblin from the other day behind me, and shot to my feet.

He was dressed in a black suit with white ruffles at the neckline and going down into a triangle shape that stopped at his breastbone. He had a small ivory cane with a dragon’s head carved at the top and a little gold cap at the base. I had no doubt that the cap wasn’t just plating, it was real gold.

“There’s a price for everything in this world, and some of us are just harder bargainers than others.” Mr. Schnee chortled a bit and walked past us. Behind him, the elf woman I remembered from the other day followed with small strides. She wore practical looking pants rather than a dress, and a simple coat that was buttoned only as high as the base of her breasts, emphasizing her feminine frame. Her ears were decorated with golden rings, and when he pointed at the bottles, she immediately went, plucked one up, and began to pour.

“Are you a follower, Mr. Schnee?” I asked, and after he took a seat himself, in the center, forcing me to reflexively move aside so that he now sat between Loysa and I, he answered.

His hand went up and a glass was placed in it a moment later. Loysa, notably, said nothing.

“Yes and no.” He said. “I donate to the temples, I am a fine upstanding citizen after all. She does me favors sometimes. But,” he wiggled his long goblin ears, “I don’t follow anyone. I’m the only real god I need.”

Loysa was notably silent now, and when he patted his hand on the cushion beside him, I sat.

“I’m being rude.” He said and gestured to his elf attendant. “This is Lilyana Tanaka, my assistant and bodyguard, and I,” he looked toward Loysa, “am Yorgim Schnee.” He held out his hand and frowned a little when Loysa shook it rather than kissing his ring as I had done the other day.

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“Loysa. Priestess of Kuduru. Full Gear ranked adventurer, and this one’s party member.” Loysa said as she introduced herself.

I saw the goblin’s ears twitch just a bit when she mentioned her service to Kuduru, that was at least enough to tell me he hadn’t heard everything we’d said, only the tail end.

“Ah, a party member, what’s your party name then, and where are the rest of you? Parties usually have four members.” Yorgim asked, his jagged teeth were bared in a little smile. I did not want to know what dirty thoughts were going through his mind, but I couldn’t help being wary of this one. The elf who followed him with her quiet, strict professionalism seemed to know exactly what to do, like she’d been with him for some time.

“One of them is down there.” I pointed to the arena where the mechs were still assembling along the wall, and that had Yorgim’s attention. “Dwarguy Davaran.” I said, and unable to stop myself, I explained his willingness to help.

Schnee tapped his cane on the polished wooden floor and said, “I’m afraid I can’t let you have him, win or lose, he’s valuable to me. His fights make a lot of creds.”

My tail bristled. “But, I have a quest, I need him. Even Loysa says so, it has to be him.”

“Do you know why?” Schnee asked, he almost sounded amused when he asked me, and I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

I didn’t know. “No.” I said.

“The reason may have nothing to do with you, but let me tell you, fox girl, if you’re just doing what everyone tells you, you’re never chasing your own dreams. Just someone else’s. And if you’re doing that, you’re not even really living, and you’re stuck at the bottom forever.” He smirked a little, and his left ear twitched.

I hadn’t expected life advice.

“So if you don’t know why you need him, I don’t know why I should even consider letting him go.” Yorgim answered with finality, I wanted to object, but didn’t know how, I looked past him toward Loysa.

“If you want to lose him forever, go ahead and say no.” Loysa chimed in, and the goblin’s eyes narrowed, his set his drink down, as if he intended to set it on the floor, but before it went that low, the elf woman had a small table plucked from somewhere and set directly beneath his glass. He snapped his fingers, and the elf woman cracked her knuckles.

“Are you trying to steal from me?” Yorgim asked, “That takes balls of rock to say to my face, and that kind of guts will earn you nothing but a quick death versus a slow one.”

Loysa shook her head. “My Goddess tells me he has no future if he stays here. Maybe that means he dies in an upcoming fight, maybe that means he quits on his own, or gets injured and hooked on something. But you’ve put a lot of money into funding mech tech for these fights, do you want to lose out on even a fraction of your investment?” She asked, and I did notice that she kept the corner of her eye on the elf woman.

Yorgim thought that over. “The Goddess doesn’t lie to her priests, but she’s perfectly fine with her priests lying to people. How do I know you’re not lying now?”

“My Goddess is why you didn’t end up with broken mechs and dead pilots yesterday. She already granted you luck, are you going to spit in the face of her priestess the very next day?” Loysa demanded, unlike me, she seemed utterly unperturbed by the goblin’s threat, beyond fearless.

“One of us is in a lot of expensive trouble right now.” Yorgim said, I couldn’t help but chime in. I understood what he meant, if Loysa was telling the truth, the loss of a talented mech pilot was evidently expensive. If she was lying, he took a loss anyway.

“Can’t he just, do what he wants?” I asked.

“He thinks he can. But he owes me fights, win or lose.” Yorgim answered, “He owes six more wins or twelve more losses. We have a contract.”

Given what I knew of contract law before the modern age on my world, I couldn’t help but think this was probably a very lopsided agreement.

“But can’t he just do those ‘whenever’? Do they have to be in a row, couldn’t you just hype him up as some big adventurer coming in for a big fight wherever he goes?” I asked.

Yorgim’s ears twitched and he shifted his attention toward me, he reached for his glass again, and his bodyguard relaxed, but she kept her eyes fixed on Loysa.

“The standard contract doesn’t specify a time. But it’s understood to be consecutive over a season.” He said, and my ears twitched.

“If it’s not in writing, it’s not really there.” I was pulling that out of my ass, “Technicalities are at the heart of all laws and contracts, and if you didn’t say he had to do these in a specified time, he’s free to leave at any time as long as he expresses interest in fulfilling the bargain.” I’d ripped all that from various fictions, and from a haphazard knowledge of how preindustrial law worked.

But Yorgim looked me over afresh. “No judge will rule against me.”

“And that’ll cost money, and time, and who knows what trouble it might create.” Loysa added. “Maybe that’s even what it meant by him having no future here. Plus what if all the other pilots see their contracts the same way and walk off, mechs and all. How much might that cost?”

Yorgim drank quietly, I could see the gears turning in his deep set eyes. “You’ll have to compensate me for my time.”

“You’ll have…” I realized I hadn’t given him our party name yet, and I grasped for something that would fit, “Wandering Time, available for any lawful guild quests at your disposal… for a discount.” I added.

“And if I should one day come to you for a favor?” He asked. I was honestly relieved there wasn’t anything lecherous in his look right then. This was business, pure and simple to him.

“If I can fulfill it, fine. If I can’t, I’m probably dead.” That was bluster, pure bluster on my part. But it seemed to resonate with him.

“Alright, ‘Wandering Time’, Lilyana will draw up a contract and route it to your guild hall. Sign it when you get back, and I’ll let Dwarguy leave with you today. An act of ‘good faith’ on my part.” He said, and even though he said that, I got the distinct feeling that I was being tested in more ways than one.

We still had time to kill, but it seemed that when he wanted to, Yorgim could turn on the charm, and I barely noticed the passage of time before a clock somewhere began to dong, and Yorgim pointed to the glass. The first mech had started to move.