The sun setting over the horizon seemed to be the signal for the bass to drop, a steady thrum of music in the distance growing louder and louder as Gwen and Twinty entered the affluent part of town and neared Whilaway's mansion.

“What's that noise? Sounds like-”

“Elf music, yes. Drink this.”

He handed her a small vial which she knocked back.

“What is it?”

“By the way, don't drink things then ask what they are. You would be very easy to poison. Which is what it's for, it's a general, all purpose poison antidote. I'm immune to a lot of things at this point in my life so my blood makes an excellent preventative antidote. Wormwood will be less dangerous if we're prepared.”

Gwen's eyes shot open and her drinking halted for a moment before she shrugged and kept drinking. Twinty proceeded on.

“Ever since the day you say Wormwood would have returned with Aggatha there have been these parties. I guess we know what he's been celebrating but it's so out of character for him as he's never been the type for that sort of thing. Especially not the decadence he's been bringing in.”

The home practically pulsed with music, steady beats and heavy bass shaking the walls, people streaming in, wagons of food pulling around the back to feed every mouth. Twinty scoffed.

“He's more the sort of quietly joyous villain as long as I've known him. Not the house party, whore indulging villain who 'drops the beat' as the elves say.”

Gwen cracked her knuckles as best she could through her gauntlets.

“Well I've got a whole other kind of beat for him. So what's the plan? We put on fancy clothes so we're unrecognizable and crash his party in style?”

Twinty kicked the manhole he was standing on just inside the alley they lurked in.

“It must be nice having all that extra space in your head. We can go through here. We have contracts with some of the richer people that lets them have access to escape routes out of the city through the ratling tunnels and that's how we'll be getting in.”

He nodded for Gwen to get it and she pulled it aside for him to slink down the ladder, her following with the metal cover clanging behind.

“I don't want to doubt you because you're smart but don't you think a criminal wizard like Whilaway would have trapped it?”

Twinty shook his head like he was pitying a fool.

“Of course. That's why I sent some of my best people to disarm them ahead of time.”

“Oh...so, no fancy dress then? For sneaking in?”

“No. No fancy disguise slash dress.”

Twinty led them along a few empty tunnels until they came to a gate slightly ajar and a couple of rats playing dice against the wall.

Twinty cleared his throat and one of them looked up as he threw the dice, both landing on box cars. Money was exchanged as he stood and quickly whispered into Twinty's ear.

“Completely? You couldn't have been digging it out instead of throwing your money away?”

The rat shook his head, extending his hands apart in a show of how deep the collapse had been.

Gwen looked smug and he scowled at her and spat.

“Well, he didn't trap it, now did he?”

He sighed and started back the way they'd come.

“Well, luckily we already have another plan ready.”

Gwen's smile brightened.

-------------------------

Gwen's sighed again, her dream melting away.

“This isn't anything like what I had in mind.”

She let the body of the elf slump against a wall in a dark corner. The vest was tight, meant for smaller chests and the sleeves were far too long so she rolled them up until they stopped flopping around like flags in the wind. Twinty rubbed some perfume along her jawline, a bottle that appeared and disappeared just as quickly into his cloak, then rolled it up and stowed under his arm.

She carried a large box full of rattling liquor into the back of the mansion, the kitchen loud with the sound of staff rushing here and there, of pots and pans banging and chefs swearing. The pans hanging above the fires swayed with every beat of the party that was otherwise drowned out.

Twinty wore the pure white uniform of a chef, a coat with brass buttons, a tall toque on top of his head. He stood much taller than his normal stooped posture and spoke with a much more refined accent, enunciating every word. He was nearly unrecognizable.

“Walking in the front door is a terrible plan. You read too many books.”

“I saw it in a play.”

“Those things will rot your mind.”

“Anyway, we must find Whilaway and-”

“I hate to bother you-”

A cook came up behind them, a tall, portly human, face red and sweating from the heat. He thrust a tray overflowing into Gwen's hands.

“-but do you think it would be alright if you did a little god-damned work?!”

He turned on Twinty, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“And I don't remember having any dirty sewer dwelling-”

Twinty grabbed the finger, twisting it in such a way that the chef was on his knees, his whole body trembling with sudden pain.

“I'm sorry, sir, but I was hired by Mr. Weatherworn to look into his kitchen staff. This is a surprise inspection and-”

He sniffed the air, once, twice, his lip curling the third time.

“...do you really call that properly seasoned and cooked chicken? Are you trying to make people sick?”

He let the finger go and the chef rubbed it, holding it close to his chest.

“I didn't hear anything about-”

Twinty gave him a gentle slap on the face and then pointed at a small pin on his lapel that hadn't been there a second ago. It meant nothing to Gwen but the chef's eyes lit up and his hands shook.

“That's what surprise means. Now get up, a kitchen is speed and you're wasting time. I'll check on your staff when I'm done in here. Back to it.”

The last part was meant for her and Gwen nodded, expecting him soon but feeling that she'd better do something on her own.

Think instead of acting recklessly.

She'd formed an idea of what to expect as she walked up the stairs from the kitchen and the food hopped across the tray like the soul of music had gripped it but when she actually stepped out into the heart stopping bass she nearly dropped the tray to protect her ears. All traditional elven music was loud and filled with the heaviest bassline music could muster but this was beyond what normal instruments an an enclosed space could do alone and Gwen saw why. There was a stage at one end, brightly lit by the spectacle of a band and on either side were two wizards, both radiating a glowing magic aura that pulsed like a visual of the music, amplifying it multiple times louder than it should have been.

Rowdy crowds happened in her line of work as a boxer but the dancing and shoving made for a difficult field to navigate.

God dammit, my ears! Can't even think let alone get my bearings.

She was practically invisible in the sea of people, bumped by bodies she couldn't simply shove aside.

Oh! A bar, those don't move.

She slid around people and towards the stationary landmark, losing her tray into someones hungry hands along the way. When she finally laid hand on it every brain rattling sound faded to a muffled thrum behind her. She looked back, people still dancing and the wizards still pumping the air full of sound but it was behind some invisible wall that brought it down to a dull roar.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Must be magic.

She sighed, rubbing her aching ears and soaking in the soothing balm of quiet as she took a seat.

I can think a moment. See if this guy knows anything.

She looked at him, a tall elf, his hands moving through the air as though conducting a symphony but it was the magically glowing blue hands that floated through the air under his control that actually did the work. They mixed drinks, juggled bottles, laid the alcoholic alchemy before their owners who giggled and purred at his handsomeness.

Two elves wearing about a towels worth of material between them leaned in, flirting with the bartender who whispered something back that sent them into a fit of giggles. They departed around the bar, sending air kisses his way, before stopping at a closed, darkened door that opened just enough for a pair of eyes to look them over, a few words to be said and the door to close after them.

Okay, I feel like I definitely know what that was.

A sharp whistle called her attention.

“Hey, I know I'm stunning but how about another hand over here?”

She pointed at herself and he nodded, irritated.

“Bring me a couple more bottles of Sunrise Glint. Almost out.”

He whirled back to the customers, magical hands setting drinks down in nearly choreographed timing. Gwen looked around, a crate of bottles by her foot that she dug into.

“So we're just serving fancy water? Nobody wants something with any taste?”

The floating hands snatched the bottles from her and began pouring drinks for the line of people waiting, turning the men away as fast he could and selectively picking through the more attractive women with extra attention.

“We considered bringing in some dwarven liquors but we didn't know what we'd do with all the dead bodies after.”

There was a tinkle of laughter from those surrounding the bar. He jerked his head at the bar and the people waiting.

“Why don't you help these people while I wait on these ladies.”

He kicked a step stool over to her, smirking. She pulled an apron tight on her waist and stepped up on the stool, suddenly able to see so many faces unattended as the elf spent his time selectively helping the beautiful ladies.

She leaned in, whispering to him as she took a bottle in hand and began pouring a small drink for no one in particular.

“And what about sending women back for Mr. Whilaway? How do we do that?”

The elf actually broke into laughter as though she'd told some joke.

“One, that's my job. I know what Mr. Whilaway likes. And two? No one is going to get excited over a dwarf. But if you feel like life hasn't shit on you enough after putting you at ass height, go ahead.”

She clenched both fists so tight the knuckles popped like a string of firecrackers but she smiled and turned to the expectant faces of those deemed less than desirable and handed to the dwarf.

“What can I get you?”

------------------------

“...so the Daq and I are sitting in the middle of the bar, the entire place trashed to splinters and I say to her, 'tell them it was a mimic'.”

The crowd laughed as she poured another round of drinks, sliding them across the bar to her crowd and onlookers as she smiled in that way that touched everyone and told her stories in a way that everyone felt like she was talking directly to them.

If bartending was supposed to be hard then every bartender should work a busy lunch counter alone. She couldn't mix anything other than a dwarven cocktail called The Rockslide (a drink of the highest proof alcohol on hand and ice) but no one seemed to mind as she took care of each of them.

The other bartender silently fumed as his crowd dwindled, his years of self taught magic pushed to the side by genuine sociability. Gwen saw his sour face and slid him a drink of his own.

“Hey, don't be mad. I think of it this way, I'm not at the best height to be shit on. I'm on the other side of the body, where the fun is.”

The bartender scowled, no sudden revelation of racism being bad giving him an epiphany as he began to walk out from behind the counter.

“I'm going on break.”

A single warmed and slippery piece of ice tossed perfectly from the darkened corner of the bar fell under his foot and he was suddenly airborne, feet way above his head like he was floating. Then the magnificent crash as he reached out for anything to save himself and pulled glasses down that shattered around him as his head cracked against the marble floor.

Everyone looked in shock at the almost comical pratfall and Gwen saw the corner of the bar, Twinty nodding at her and then at the door from earlier.

Right...right, I could take a few ladies in the back but then the others would be disappointed...

A candle lit in her brain as a plan lit.

“Oh man, are you okay-”

“I have him.”

Twinty had slid behind the bar and struggled to lift the elf even as light as the body was. Gwen hoisted him over her shoulder and pointed towards the door. She smiled as she looked at the crowd.

“Since it's getting a bit crowded in here let's open a room up for a smaller party. Little more intimate. Who wants in?”

There was a cheer from the crowd as Twinty banged on the door and it opened enough for a slitt lizardfolk eye to look through. It looked at the crowd forming, scanned everyone critically although the eye did not really know what it was looking for. If someone told her an elf or human was good looking she had no way of knowing but she had to keep up appearances.

“We'd like to open up another room if you don't mind. Getting a bit crowded out here. Be a sort of waiting room for anyone Mr. Whilaway would like to 'see', so they don't get away. We'll need to have some food sent over, maybe a bard.”

The eye looked at the expectant crowd again and then the unconscious elf. She sighed and opened the door. She needed the money but she was starting to get too tired to judge things as well as she should, like actually listening to a ratling.

“Come on in. Keep your eye on them, meat. I can talk to someone about getting things set up.”

The crowd funneled through and the lizardfolk guard pointed them toward one of the extra rooms, a cozy parlor where the music still beat through the house.

Gwen dropped the elf on a couch as the people mingled and called for her to join them. She waved back.

“Now what?”

She whispered to Twinty.

He looked out the door, the guard yawning a mouthful of sharp teeth.

“Go ask her where we send ladies to Whilaway.”

“You can't?”

“I don't like talking to lizardfolk. Makes my ears itch. What's left of them.”

She figured those statements were related and went ahead. It only took a moment, a compliment on her head horns and a little chatter before she pointed back and gave directions.

She turned back to her chair watching the wall and the book she'd been trying to read and the two slipped from the room, quietly making their way upstairs.

“I think it's this one.”

Twinty put his ear to the door, the sounds of coitus about to be interruptus coming from inside.

“That's it. Would you do the honors?”

He asked as he put his cloak back on and shook out the wrinkles. She smiled, reared her foot back and kicked the door in, splinters flying out into the air.

Several elven women lounged inside, or post lounged as they looked up in shock. There was a large bed in the center of the room, lingerie strewn here and there and the figure in the middle of the room was Mr. Whilaway, stopped mid-stroke in shock at the sudden intrusion in his compromising position. All eyes were on them.

Twinty did not freeze with the rest of them, and stepped in to pitch a vial of yellow liquid through the air where it would break and release a potent paralysis gas.

If the old man hadn't whipped his hand faster than his hands should have been able to move. His foot slipped in his sudden movement and general sweaty exhaustion and he fell off the bed wrapped in sheets but holding the vial aloft. The women stared, unsure of whether to run or not as the intruders were unarmed.

He scrambled, trying to untangle himself and finally stood naked, raising his hands in exaggerated spell motions, fingers pointing at odd angles and drawing sloppy lines in the air.

“Twinty, thought I'd see you around again. The dwarf is a surprise. Aren't you supposed to be in prison?”

Gwen shrugged.

“They let me out for good behavior.”

Twinty glared at the girls, shooing them out until it was just the three of them alone in the room. He then reached into his cloak and pulled out a small vial. Whilaway slowly circled his hands in the air menacingly.

“I wouldn't do that if you don't want me to set you ablaze with skin melting hellfire.”

He threw the vial anyway, a fastball lob that Whilaway snatched out of the air, his junk jangling as he reached.

“For gods' sake put some pants on Wormwood. I don't want to look at that.”

Gwen looked confused and Whilaway faltered.

“Whaaaat? Who do you think-”

“You think I don't know Whilaway's mannerisms? His way of speaking? He's not a casanova thug like you and he certainly doesn't 'set people ablaze'. He's more likely to use wind and lightning magic you moron. I already know you're not going to be using any magic so you can put your hands down.”

Gwen started forward, her fists raised and ready to punch him so hard his eyeballs would pop out and dangled but Twinty grabbed her, slowly dragging him along as she marched.

“There's always time for violence after. Let's hear what he's going to say.”

“After what he DID!?”

Gwen growled.

“There's always time for violence later.”

He repeated firmly. Wormwood smiled using Whilaway's face, smug look that invited punching. Gwen let her fists drop.

“He's right you know. I don't have a single problem with either of you. I'll tell you anything you want since I am now the richest man in Deraforda.”

He grabbed a robe. Sliding it over himself but not bothering with the tie in the front and then he twisted a ring on his finger and his body flickered, wrinkles disappearing and wiry muscles falling into place. He was himself.

“We just need to head down to the baseme-”

Gwen whipped her fist around and caught him on the side of his drunken, sex tired face and he spun in a slow circle and crumpled to the floor like a rag doll. Twinty shook his head at her.

“I said later.”

“It is later.”

He kicked the robe closed over Wormwood and recovered the vials from his hands.

“Well, bring him along. We need to get there before the entire wasp nest starts buzzing.”

She hoisted him over her shoulder and they scurried, Twinty guiding them through halls and pathways he'd walked many times, either as spy or guest and occasionally prisoner. His heart beat harder with every step as he imagined seeing her again, a woman he'd never met but apparently loved.

The library was empty, the fire out and every book shuffling on the shelf from the bass. Twinty took the ring from Wormwood's finger and slid it on, thinking hard for a few seconds as he concentrated on its single blue gem. His body rippled with the image in his mind and he changed into Whilaway.

“Creepy.”

Gwen said, dumping Wormwood on the floor by the fireplace.

“I don't like it either but it makes the next part easy.”

He stepped into the fireplace's open mouth and waited as a faint trickle of light washed over him and the back of the stonework opened up onto stairs. They crept cautiously now, Twinty becoming himself again as they walked down the carved stone staircase down into the secret recesses. Light came from torches they passed, the fancy crystals beside them dark. The music upstairs was faint and became an ominous heartbeat as they descended into a beast.

There was a heavy wood door at the bottom and Twinty leaned against it, his ear to the wood and catching the faintest sound of scratches like quill to paper.

He grabbed a couple of potions and nodded at Gwen. She took hold of the door and pushed it in slowly.

It was a tidy room, even more books and notes organized carefully on shelves carved by the finest elf wood workers. Items of ancient importance and unknown use were placed on pedestals and there was a large table pushed away from the center of the room and flush against a corner.

There, small and scraggly, surrounded by books and papers and inks was a one armed woman.

“Aggatha?”

Twinty called out, his legs shaking and his heart thumping worrisomely hard. She turned in her chair, her eyes tired but a weary smile on her face.

“Twinty! I didn't think you'd still be alive after so long, no offense. And you've brought a friend! Please, the both of you come, have a seat.”

They both looked around in confusion. No danger, no evil wizard around. She pulled out some chairs as they approached.

“But...where's Whilaway? What's going on?”

Gwen recognized Clarke's book open on the table, her own name written on a paper that was laid out by it with a remarkably good likeness of herself scribbled beside it.

Aggatha stroked the rat's head and rubbed his ears and if Gwen snorted at his uncharacteristic bashful look he said nothing. If his skin had been visible she was sure he'd be red as a tomato.

“That's what I want to talk about. Everything is going to be okay from now on. It's all going to be okay.”

They sat and she cleared some of the clutter.

“And know I'm very glad to see the both of you but when do you suspect my son will arrive?”