Bonnie Mantle lived outside the walls in a ramshackle camp called Little Whimsy. It stood in contrast to its namesake, the district of Whimsy, which was clean and polished and filled with all sorts of strange enchantments and devices, not even mentioning the people.
Little Whimsy, on the other hand, was a mess. It was a city of colorful tents and fires that looked like a stiff enough breeze might blow them over, and surrounded by a miniature wall decorated with skulls. This wall would be far more intimidating if it wasn’t made of pebbles and hope and the aforementioned skulls weren’t those of small animals. The interior, Artemisia noted with slight disdain, was not much better than the walls. The tents were set up with no rhyme or reason, some of them even stitched into each other. There were vast gaps between some of them, while others were clustered together like eggs in a nest.
It took quite a while to find Bonnie’s tent, as it was no different from the others in terms of appearance save for a sign over the entrance. This sign consisted entirely of a piece of cardstock with the words “OUR GLORIOS LEEDER” written on it in sloppy script, accompanied by an arrow pointing down. Artemisia had initially taken it as a joke and thus dismissed it, and it took having to ask for directions from a ragged huntsman in a deer skull mask for her to realize that it was no joke.
The tent was slightly better on the inside than on the outside. The carpet on the floor was only slightly bloodstained and the holes in the roof were semi-expertly patched, although the fact that everything looked like it got caught up in a tornado brought down any further positive qualities in Artemisia’s eyes. Bonnie was asleep facedown on her desk, snoring like a steam train, although she woke instantly when Artemisia unintentionally snapped a glass trinket lying underfoot.
“Whassit?” she slurred, reaching for the derringer at her waist before realizing it was hanging from the roof for some reason. She rubbed her eyes sleepily, grinning slightly when she saw Artemisia. “Hey, Artie. Long time, no see.”
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“Don’t call me that.”
Bonnie’s grin widened. “I see you haven’t changed in the past few weeks. Has it been a few weeks? I think it’s been a few weeks.” She pushed back from her desk and straightened her clothes out a little, making no effort to do the same for everything else in the room. “So what can I do for you?”
“Two things. The first is that the Mystics request your aid.”
“Hmm.” Bonnie rubbed her chin thoughtfully for further emphasis. “What’s in it for me?”
“I don’t know, maybe the fact that the Mystics control the biggest trade route not routinely ransacked by your faction?” Artemisia supposed.
Bonnie’s grin widened into a full-blown joyful smile. “You’re a very shrewd businesswoman, Artie. I’ll do it! What’s the other thing?”
Artemisia hesitated, reaching for the amulet around her neck. She wasn’t entirely sure if showing it to Bonnie was a good idea, given that Bonnie’s fingers were stickier than a tart, but Bonnie was also the person who gave her the amulet in the first place, and as a result was the one most likely to know where exactly it came from.
Reluctantly, she unclasped the amulet from around her neck and held it up.
“Where did you get this?” Artemisia asked.
Bonnie blinked, then rubbed her eyes. “Ah…I believe I stole it.”
Artemisia had to bite her tongue to keep from stating the obvious. “From who?”
“A Tinkerer from the Hollows. Some dude named Lukas. He paid me to get him some rare components, then refused to pay the fee when I got ‘em, so I stole it from him.”
Artemisia pinched the bridge of her nose. She had long since grown used to Bonnie’s nature by this point, but it was still a little irritating. “You could’ve taken that up with the courts.”
Bonnie snorted. “Please. You act like they’d have given a guinea. Besides, stealing’s more fun!”
Artemisia sighed. “Alright. Where can I find this ‘Lukas’?”
“Like I said, the Hollows. Could tell from all the dirt on ‘im.”
“Yes, but where specifically?”
“How should I know?! He came to me!” Bonnie paused. “Rather bold of him, now that I think of it, marchin’ into my camp and tryin’ to swindle me. He’s lucky I took it in good humor.” She raised an eyebrow. “Wait, why’s this amulet so special to ya?”
“It’s none of your business.”
Bonnie gave her a skeptical look, but for once decided not to pry. Artemisia left with the amulet and no further leads on why it was important.