Alistair’s first stop once he reached Lumina with his friends was the bank. He produced the fake identification document that listed him as Gerald Starblack and headed on in. “I’ll be right back,” he told Juno and Zola. “Just hang here for a moment.”

As Alistair got in line by an older woman who was disputing some payment, Ghost spoke to him over Spectral Text.

Ghost: You can use your normal identity starting next week. Just so you know.

Alistair: Really? Why?

Ghost: Something I handled back in Solaria.

Alistair: Why didn’t you tell me?

Ghost: I’m telling you now.

Alistair: Didn’t you want my name to be off the registrars there, or something?

Ghost: I did, and I still do. But I’m just telling you if you ever lose your fake identification, you can use your real one. That’s all. Continue. The old woman is nearly done bitching at the clerk.

As the assassin had noted, the lady said a few more things and stomped out. After shuffling papers for a moment, the clerk, a heavyset man with acne trailing up his neck, settled his gaze on Alistair and grunted: “Next.”

Alistair approached and produced his identification. From that point, Ghost took over, telling the man how much he wanted to withdraw with such confidence, such precision in the way he composed himself, that the large banker hardly scrutinized the identification. The banker told him it would be a moment, briefly spoke to a colleague, and then used the key to open a lock box beneath his desk.

Ghost: That is how it’s done. Confidence will get you everywhere in this world. Be confident, and you’ll be surprised how things work out. Many of my best kills have been done through confidence.

Alistair: Good to know, I guess. Although I don’t see how you murdering people applies to anything normally done at a bank.

Ghost: I’m not going to get into a conversation about the banking industry and how it should be tried, and convicted, of murder with the way it has extended its cold plump fingers into every aspect of our lives. You get it.

“Actually, I don’t,” Alistair said under his breath the banker produced a stack of promissory notes. He counted them out, counted them again slowly so Alistair could watch, and handed the documents over after stamping a few things and adjusting the account balance.

“Did you get enough?” Juno asked after Alistair stepped outside.

“I did.”

“Left from your former master, right?” Zola asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice. “Before you were an orphan?”

“Correct. Moving on. The restaurant.” They turned in the direction of the expensive restaurant where Alistair had had his first meal with Kanda. After navigating a tight road that cut through one of Lumina’s older neighborhoods, they reached the alley, and reached the place just as it was turning over from breakfast service to lunch.

“We’re looking for someone,” Juno told the hostess, “a bard who performs here occasionally. Her name is Annie.” The hostess, who had her head clipped behind her ears, gave him an annoyed look until he produced a few coins, which he placed on her podium. “Maybe this will help refresh your memory.”

“Annie isn’t here today.” The hostess took the coins and tucked them in her pocket. “And she won’t be here tonight, either. If you would like to find her, I suggest taking Catarina Street. I’ve seen her busking there before, although I don’t know if she does anything like that anymore.”

“I know where that is,” Zola said. “I shop there sometimes.”

“You have time to shop?” Juno asked her after they left the restaurant.

“I’m not always with you all, you know.”

“You aren’t?” he asked, clearly teasing Zola.

They passed by a tannery, the smell nearly overpowering. From there it was through a small residential area, where they came to a long street of shops that had residences on their second floors. The three Fledglings followed their ears toward a fountain and found a pair of musicians, one playing a lute and the other singing as he pointed out people in the crowd.

“And you,” he sang, “with the long, long beard and the belly full of beer and the rosy red cheeks that tell everyone you reek!”

“Hey!” the man said, but then he started laughing. “I don’t smell!”

“But you are drunk, yes? Yes!” The singer continued once he saw a woman with a hood over her head. “The assassin lady’s back like a feline on attack and the aura of a ghost, will I live after this roast? Who knows!”

The crowd laughed and the woman rolled her eyes and moved on.

“How are we going to get their attention without having to stand here and listen to these dumbass songs?” Zola asked. “They’ll know where Annie is.”

Juno stepped forward. “Easy, Zolbutt. These aren’t songs, and they’re definitely not dumb, they’re roasts. We sing-roast back at them. I’ve done this before. It’s called a Ballad Burn.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“You can’t be serious.”

Juno scoffed at this suggestion. “When am I ever not serious? Of course, I’m serious. I can do this. They do it in Solaria over the summer. Let me step there.”

Juno jumped in front of the singer just as he pointed at a boy holding a back of grain over his shoulder. Juno quickly sang, his voice out of tune but his rhythm good. “Busking man tall and bland, a man more dandy and less handy! I seek a bard named Annie, do you know her and could you help me?”

The singer clapped and focused on Juno. “Annie is no ordinary bard for a boy whose face looks like it’s greased with lard. To find this Annie, I’ll need more than your Ballad Burn, I’ll need a wad of cash and I’ll need it fast!”

Juno snickered. “I have your cash you boring wad, take a break, and we’ll exchange it all!”

The singer offered a quick nod to the lutist, who finished up his tune and brought his instrument down. “That’s it,” the singer told the crowd as he turned his hat around and approached the people gathered around him. “Time for a break, but before you break, a tip you make. Come back in five for more Ballad Burn!” Once he had collected enough, he returned to Juno. “Cash first.”

Ghost: Do not flash all your money around these people.

Alistair: These people?

Ghost: Musicians. If there is anything I trust less than assassins, it is musicians. But as you know, I’m not so musical. So maybe there’s an insecurity there.

Alistair produced a small amount of money. “How’s this?”

“I’ll add to that,” Juno said as he conjured up a few coins.

The singer shrugged. “More than I expected. Heh.” He took a swig from a waterskin. “You’re looking for Annie?”

“We are,” Zola said.

“Annie, Annie, Annie. Someone is always looking for her. She’s probably asleep right now, but if you head toward that building there, you’ll probably find her.” The singer pointed at a building that was painted light blue. It was two stories, and there were women’s clothing drying from the top floor window. “Go around back. There’s a stairs that leads up to the top floor. Knock twice, wait, and knock twice again. You’ll find Annie.”

“And her shop?” Juno asked. “She’s a fence, right?”

Ghost: Way to blow any cover she may have.

“Yes, she is,” the singer said. “But I’m surprised you didn’t already know where she lives if you knew that.”

“Mutual friend,” Alistair told him. “Thanks!” He turned in the direction of the blue building and Juno and Zola caught up with him.

“Did I say something wrong?” Juno asked.

Zola answered his question: “Not necessarily, but discretion is important sometimes.”

They circled around the shop in question, which sold various home supplies on the bottom floor and currently featured a sale on brooms. The three found the stairs at the back, and took them to reach a small door clearly not standard-sized.

“Knock twice, wait, knock again,” Juno said.

“Just let me do it.” Zola knocked in the correct pattern and soon, there was movement on the other side.

Annie the bard opened the door, her blonde hair wrapped in a turquoise turban, her face covered in a thick pale blue cream like she was just finishing up her morning skin routine. She wore pink silk robes adorned with peacock feathers, the robes tied around her waist. “I know the three of you,” she said instead of a greeting. “Who told you I lived here?”

“Tarnis,” Zola lied. “You know, the same guy that paid you to sing a song about a Weatherman’s Throne to us that nearly caused us to be trapped in a dungeon.”

“So that was what that song was about? Huh,” she said, the woman not at all bothered by Zola’s revelation. “Well, a gig is a gig. And I suppose a dungeon is a dungeon. Are you coming in, or not?”

Juno’s eyes widened at the woman. “We get to come in your… home?”

“What’s wrong with you,” Zola asked Juno as she tugged his arm. “Stop being weird.”

They entered Annie’s placee through the small door to find the space inside was quite grand, with large ceilings, the walls decorated with beautiful paintings of birds. There were numerous instruments around and while it was a bit cluttered, everything seemed to have a place and fit a certain aesthetic.

Annie took a seat on a yellow couch and crossed one leg over the other. Once again, Zola elbowed Juno. If the musician noticed this, she didn’t say anything about it as she looked the three of them over again. She gestured to her face. “My cream needs to sit for five more minutes.”

“Okay,” Alistair said, not sure of what she was suggesting.

“So let me know what it is you’re looking for, or why you’ve visited, but I’m going to assume you’re here to buy something. I’ll let you know if I have it, and if I don’t, I’ll let you know if I can get it. After five minutes, I need to wash my face. That is your time limit to pique my interest.”

“In that case, we’ll get right down to it. We need a Resonant Card Extractor,” Zola said. “Tarnis thought you might have access to something like that.”

“He would know,” she said. “After all, He’s the one that had it delivered to me. But it’s not for sale. Or, it’s too valuable, and I don’t think you could afford it. You could rent it—”

Alistair produced the promissory notes, which certainly caught Annie’s attention.

Ghost: What did I tell you about not flashing money?

Alistair: I was trying to use it as a negotiation tactic.

Ghost: You just made negotiation harder on your part. Do you see the way she’s looking at you? I know you’ve been a poor orphan most of your life but never flash money like that again. You just cost yourself quite a bit.

“That will certainly do,” Annie said.

“Now hold on,” Juno said. “You never said if you’d sell or rent it to us, and you never said what that amount would be.”

Annie shrugged. “What he’s holding is enough.”

“That’s not how this is going to work,” Juno said, a firmness in his voice that seemed unnatural. “What was your price to rent the extractor before you saw the money? And don’t lie to me. I have a card that forces someone to tell the truth.

Annie hesitated. “You do?”

To better sell his obvious lie, Juno touched his chest as if he were going to draw a card.

Ghost: Is Juno actually helping our cause for once? By the gods, he’s not as useless as I thought.

“Ugh, fine,” Annie pouted. “How long will you be renting it, exactly?”

“Three or four days tops,” Juno told her. “We’ll have it back by then.”

“As collateral?”

Alistair summoned his Dragon Claw Strike Card. He had a similar Wandbound Skill called Eclipse Claw, which he had brought up to Level Two. “Aside from the rental fee, here’s one of my better cards for collateral.”

“I see,” Annie said with a quick shrug. “In that case, let’s talk.”