He reached the city center with a few hours to spare until daybreak. Eager vendors were already setting up their stands as he strolled down the street inspecting their wares. Smoked meats, fae globes, medicinal herbs, and enchanted tools were on display, attempting to lure in customers. The blacksmith’s chimneys billowed black smoke into the night sky as they forged the next marvel of humanity. The repulsive smell of the tanners wafted into his nose, making his eyes water. He plugged his nose tightly, picking up his pace in an attempt to reach where the stench could not assault his senses any longer.
He continued down the stalls until he got to the seafood, which had an entire block reserved. Being close to the sea, and it being the safest option to gather food by far, made the seafood plentiful and cheap. He was an awful cook, so he passed up the raw seafood and headed to the restaurants and pub section of the city. He watched with a pang of longing as entire generations of families laughed and argued with each other while they set up their stalls together. Every citizen had their purpose, but he floated like a phantom through the crowds unseen.
He stopped at a hole-in-the-wall stone building that offered no sign on the outside to inform customers about the products or services offered. The absence of a door on the stone building suggested that the entrance might be located on the next block, away from the main street. It was a small one or two-room building that had somehow been lucky enough to have an abandoned shack on one side and a horse stable on the other as its neighbors.
Noah smiled and walked toward the horse stable, his mind fogging. He halted just before he could reach out and touch the barn. His motions began to slow like he had waded upstream into a river. His arms and legs shook with the effort to take that last step toward the barn, but he made no headway. All thoughts were erased from his mind and he returned to the main cobbled street, illuminated by the fae globes. He surveyed his surroundings in confusion, wondering what had happened for the past few minutes.
He whistled and let loose a chuckle as realization washed over him. The glamour never ceased to amaze him. He walked up the pathway to the stone building in the middle of the two decoys and knocked thrice on the stone wall. A peephole appeared from nothingness in the solid stone.
“Password?” a voice belonging to an unseen man pressed him.
Noah put on a wide smile and spread his hands out in welcome. “Good day to you Gerald, my good sir! Tell me. Has the rash cleared since we last talked?”
“Password?” the voice rose in anger.
“I have brought some extra potent fae medicine home with me from my recent travels. I told the Fae themselves I needed something for my dear friend Gerald to stop the spread of the heinous rash on his…”
“Tell me the damn password Noah, you bastard of a man.” The man behind the door slammed a fist against the stone wall, causing it to rattle as if he had struck wood.
Noah smiled to himself and sighed. “Humans will conquer once more,” he responded, with his fist pressed up against his brow.
The stone wall shimmered, and a heavy wooden door appeared, creaking open. As the door fully opened, a fist flew out of the darkness, hurdling straight toward his nose. He sidestepped the fist as it blurred past his eyes and brushed the very tip of his nose.
“Now, now Gerald. That was uncalled for. Is this what I get for making a dangerous trip to the land of the Fae to find you medicine?” He clasped his chest in faux outrage.
The owner of the fist stepped into the dull gloom cast by the fae globes of the street. A large man with dark skin and a shaved head stepped across the doorway with a scowl on his face. His body was covered in tattoos, but he was a sweetheart once you got to know him.
“How is it that you aren’t dead yet, Noah? The risks you take with the other races are such that even a man blessed by the gods wouldn’t survive, but it’s even more impressive that your mouth hasn’t gotten you shanked by a human yet.”
Okay, maybe they weren’t exactly best friends, and maybe Gerald didn’t qualify as the traditional “sweetheart”.
“Come now, Gerald. Everyone in Greenwood loves me as well as every being in the surrounding territories of our enemies.” Noah tipped his hat to Gerald with a wink. “Besides, I warned you not to sleep with that prostitute.”
Gerald’s eyes bulged. “You paid the prostitute for the night and sent her to my room. I was already asleep in bed!”
Noah rubbed his chin in thought, pouring through his hazy memories. “You know, you may have a point on that one.”
Another fist flew at his face, and he leaned back while holding onto his cowboy hat. The fist flew over his chest and he swore he could feel the percussion of the blow. He stood back upright after the danger had passed and gave Gerald a small smile. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry Gerald. I’ll make sure the prostitutes are clean before I send them to your room from now on.”
Gerald scoffed and spat on the street. He glanced back up at Noah and hesitated. “Did you really bring some fae medicine?”
Noah entered the oppressive darkness of the glamoured building and felt more at home in the gloom than he ever had at his cottage. Fae globes finally offered him visibility, and he scanned the lecherous scene in front of him. The building served as a gambling den, bar, restaurant, brothel for any gender that took your fancy, and all manner of black-market trading. Alcohol and the promise of banned goods attracted a rough crowd. Both men and women patrons carried a multitude of weapons and partook in whatever vices had overwhelmed their willpower. The den reverberated with the sounds of clinking glasses, cheers from the gambling tables, and rambunctious conversations.
Noah straightened his trench coat and adjusted his cowboy hat, making sure it was perfectly positioned on his head. He twirled his cane in one hand and put on his most charming smile. He walked into the den and clapped his hands loudly while also giving a high-pitched whistle. The chatter died down as some of the most dangerous men and women in the human territory glared in his direction, eager to see who dared to disturb their good times. Some looked up hopefully at the possibility of a fight to the death to give them the excitement that other pleasures couldn’t provide.
“Good day, my dear gentleman…” he paused as a glass slammed down and he heard a dagger being unsheathed. “and ladies,” he amended as a ferocious-looking woman with scars covering her face sheathed the dagger.
“It is I, your good friend, business partner, and, in some cases, lover.” He winked over at one woman, who scowled at him in return.
“Now, I know you have all lost sleep during the past few weeks, wondering if I would return alive from our enemies’ territories. And I just want to assure you all that your prayers have been answered. I, Noah, have returned!”
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
He finished with a bow and a wave of his hat. Then, immediately sidestepped the first bottle thrown at him. Curses rained upon his ears as more food and bottles were thrown his way. He dodged a… holy shit was that a dagger? The dagger slammed into the stone wall with extreme force, chipping the stone. His eyes followed the trajectory from whence the dagger came to see the woman he had winked at, smiling menacingly in his direction. He didn’t know why she held a grudge against him. How was he supposed to know that the Fae would find it funny to mix an herb that removed any hair it touched into their highly popular shampoo? Plus, her hair was coming along nicely now. She wouldn’t be mistaken for bald any longer, at least.
The patrons finally grew bored with their attempts at maiming him, and he headed to the bar. The bartender slid an ale to him from across the counter and walked up to him while wiping his fingers on the towel attached to his waist.
“Why do you have to rile them up like that? Those damages will come out of my pocket, you know.”
Noah rested his cane over his knees and swiveled back and forth on the bar stool like a child. He glanced up at the bartender from beneath the rim of his hat. Jericho was a short man with quite an impressive potbelly. He had combed over the few wisps of hairs he had left, hoping they would be mistaken for full in the low visibility of the den. He tossed a small pouch to Noah, who pocketed the silver with clever hands. Almost double his stipend from the trading company, all for sitting his ass on top of cases of fae wine.
“It’s the best way to get business, Jericho. When they need a smuggler now, they will instantly think of me. Speaking of which, have you heard any whispers in the wind?”
Jericho might have been just a bartender in an illegal den, but he also owned the place. He had his hands in every illegal enterprise in Greenwood, and by some accounts, had the power to make the governor move at his will. The glamour he used to hide his den from the authorities cost more a month than most successful businesses made in a year.
Jericho leaned in close, but he needn’t have bothered as the roar from patrons required him to almost shout for Noah to hear him. “There has been an inquiry for silver. Arrows, daggers, spikes, anything but raw silver.”
Noah raised his brow at the strange request. Normally, he was tasked with smuggling back some less-than-legal goods that couldn’t be found in the human territories. Illegal spells, enchantments, and fae wine accounted for the bulk of these goods. Many people often sought after the extremely rare claws and fangs from the Shifters, which, when ground and ingested as a powder, provided the user with a temporary increase in strength.
The only problem was that you had to either kill a shifter and pluck the fangs and claws from its body, or convince a shifter to sell you their baby teeth. Both were near-impossible tasks. The most valuable of all illegal goods, of course, was a master vampire’s blood. The blood could cure almost any illness and heal any injury. Someone who needed such a thing would not balk at the monstrous price that it required. Demand drove the market, but desperation set the price.
Noah had never gone on a caravan to trade with the vampires and never would, but he had traded in the other illegal goods over the years. It made up the bulk of his income. His paltry salary from working as a caravan coachman was insignificant compared to the large amount of wealth he had accumulated over the years smuggling for Jericho.
A shadow grew larger on the wall behind Jericho, and Noah leaned on the barstool as a bottle flew past him, striking a mirror and shattering the glass. Jericho’s eyes followed the trail until he found the culprit with an ominous smile. Noah shivered. That patron didn’t know it yet, but he had been marked to pay recompense. And he would pay. There was no doubt about that. He cleared his throat and returned to his own business that required his nose to be placed in.
“Who is requesting silver? The Vampires?” Noah asked, perplexed. The vampires had hoarded metals for centuries and weren’t in dire need of silver to defend against the Shifters. Maybe the Unseelie or another human settlement close to a shifter pack? It wouldn’t be the Seelie. They sold silver to them all the time.
Jericho leaned in close and looked around to make sure none of the patrons were eavesdropping. “Get this. The requestor is from a shifter pack.”
Noah raised his brow in surprise. “A shifter wanting weapons that can kill itself or its pack? Who would request such a package? Maybe two packs are about to go to war over territory? But even so, a shifter would never fight in human form to make use of the silver.”
“I can’t tell you who my client is, Noah. You know that. This request came by pigeon a few days ago from my proxy stationed in a human territory months away from here by wagon. Do you want to deliver the package during your next caravan run or not?” Something flashed across Jericho’s face that he had never seen before on the man. Fear.
Noah considered the strange request, but couldn’t find a reason that this would be more dangerous or carry more risk than any other caravan run he had made. The sound of iron swords clashing against one another behind him ruined his focus. He relented with a shrug.
“They haven’t announced where our next caravan will travel. I think we are scheduled to travel to the black bear pack in a couple of weeks.”
Jericho smiled at him. “Don’t you worry about that. I have it on good authority that the caravan will travel to a new pack next. A pack that just happens to be where our client is.”
Noah examined the savage smile on Jericho’s face. He had definitely thrown his power around or possibly even tortured someone into taking this alternative route.
“I’ll take the job. Deliver the package to my cottage before we leave for the new shifter territory in a few weeks. If it is further than the black bear territory, it will be the furthest we have ever traveled, and we will pass by multiple enemy territories to get there. That will demand a high price for transport.”
Jericho shook his head. “There will be no pickup, Noah. The package will be in the caravan by the time you board it. Just protect the wagon with your life and the customer will ensure it’s offloaded when you arrive in the territory. You will be paid handsomely for this job, Noah. Don’t screw it up.”
Noah nodded his head, a little curious at the uniqueness of this smuggling job, but fear wasn’t a companion to him anymore and hadn’t been in years. Maybe he would push too far and his luck would finally run out on this trip, but death would find him as a free man and that’s all he cared about.
After a few ales and a bowl of some kind of seafood stew, he left the den to head back to his cabin and hopefully get some undisturbed sleep. The sun was up now, and citizens walked in every direction, going about their business for the day. He waded through the crowds, wondering how he could be surrounded by so many people, but still feel so disconnected from them. He passed through the marketplace like a ghost and arrived at the schools and orphanages.
The kids were out in the yards sparring with wooden sabers and target practicing with crossbows. A line of kids was staring intently at a wooden crown, but Noah knew that wasn’t what they were seeing. They were staring at whatever the enchanted crown had been glamoured to appear as. It was the only way to build the children’s tolerance to fae magic safely.
When he first arrived in the city, he had stared at the glamoured objects for hours every day. His mind being influenced was the worst type of violation for him. The practice wouldn’t give them enough protection against the Fae, but it was the best that the humans could do in the city.
Glancing around to make sure he wasn’t being observed, he walked over to the drop box where donations could be made. He dumped all the silver that the trading company had paid him for his most recent trip. This orphanage had taken good care of him when he first reached Greenwood, and he repaid that kindness when he was able.
There was never a shortage of orphans in the city. Every week, a human or two would never return from their daily work beyond the walls. How they fell, no one could know. The best weapon humanity had against the other races was their superior breeding capabilities, and city leaders encouraged this to keep their numbers up.
Adults weren’t required by law to have children, but they were required to raise orphans if the city called upon them to do so. Some even opened entire orphanages to do their part in raising the next generation of humans that would stand in fierce opposition to extinction.
In Greenwood, the unbreakable rule was that everyone had to contribute or face exile in the Wilds. Flashes of his journey to Greenwood as a child bombarded his mind. Exile in the Wilds really meant execution by the Wilds. He gave one last look at the orphaned children, wondering how long their luck would last before death claimed them. It was a shame he couldn’t share his own. He no longer wanted it.