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The Endless Solvent
Chapter 11 CAMAZ

Chapter 11 CAMAZ

(two weeks later)

Camaz knew well why he took a trip to the Heart, but he wasn’t prepared to admit it to himself. There were lots to do, of course, the top priority was to meet with Orrna to have a nice long chat about Moulu. Although admittedly Camaz wasn’t sure what he was going to get out of the owner of the Red Veil - not anymore.

The trip there from Academy island was uneventful, though Camaz noted while walking down the usual streets that there seemed to be less people around. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination. There had been talks in the Academy about how those more middle-class were migrating away from the Heart with the onset of Gates gradually appearing closer to the capital. He mentally added to the list of things to drill Orrna about while he turned into the street where the Red Veil was hidden.

He thought he missed the entrance. The street the hidden bar sat on was as vibrant as ever with stalls selling high end merchandise, but it took him two passes to realize the ‘tunnel’ down to its signature red door was almost entirely obscured by wooden boxes of two adjacent stalls. While in the past it seemed like the obscurity was a means to secrecy, now Camaz couldn’t help but feel like the way the boxes were aligned meant the entranceway wasn’t meant to be accessed at all.

The young man selling fine fabrics in the stall next to the Red Veil entrance threw an annoyed look at Camaz purposefully stepped past his stall, climbed over the wooden storage boxes and squeezed past more to the tunnel. The entrance was not lit at all. The red door and the floor around it, previously meticulously kept clean, was now covered in a build up of dirt and grime.

He tried the door and it was locked.

“That place ain’t there anymore, sir,” the fabrics merchant called out to him.

“I can see that,” Camaz muttered.

“Went outta business. Yer not gonna find that pretty lady here either.”

The idea of the Red Veil going out of business was, quite, frankly, absurd. Camaz didn’t say that out loud. He exited the tunnel to climb back out over the boxes. “You seem to be on top of the situation. Where did the pretty lady go?”

“Can’t rightly say,” the merchant said. He studied Camaz with narrowed eyes. Orrna made friends wherever she could, and it only made logical sense that she would befriend the merchant that neighbored her place of work.

Camaz sighed. “I don’t want to hurt her. I’m her friend. If possible, I want to help her.”

“That’s what all men say about women around here,” the merchant snorted. “You’re her friend because you want something from her.”

Fair enough. It wasn’t hard to imagine most of Orrna’s patrons were not the gentlemanly sorts. “Then do you know anything about the staff?” Camaz said. “The bartender, perhaps?”

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The merchant paused at the question. Even without his inner eye abilities, Camaz could tell the question unnerved the man. “Saw him dragged out right before the place shut down,” the merchant finally said. “Not very gently. I never saw him again.” He twisted his mouth shut and Camaz knew there were many things he wanted to say but for some reason, unable to.

“Did they hurt him?” Camaz suggested.

“’Hurt’ is a very light descriptor of it,” the merchant said dryly. “Very.”

Understanding his meaning, Camaz turned to leave.

“If you really are Miss Orrna’s friend, then I suggest you stay out of whatever business got them in trouble,” the merchant quickly added. “I’ll give you that much.”

Camaz shook his head. “It’s possible it’s already too late, son,” he replied. “But thank you for your concern.”

The merchant opened his mouth, closed it, then took a breath and said: “Out on the border of the slums, one block in is a street with lots of taverns and pubs,” the merchant said. “I’ve seen her wandering around in the back alleys there.”

The back alleys near the slums. For a moment, Camaz grew almost furious at what the merchant was insinuating, but he caught the young man’s flushed look of frustration. Camaz gave a curt nod and made his way towards the area the merchant talked about.

The day was still early and so the usual crowd that would frequent taverns and pubs to get sloshed were either still in bed sleeping off the festivities from the night before, or working away to earn money to spend to get sloshed that evening. Taverns on the streets were dark with the doors closed and windows shuttered, not to be awakened until the sun started to set. A few beggars wandered the streets, casting him a dirty look when he ignored their pleas for a spare coin.

Camaz finally drew the courage to slip into the back alley. Without his abilities at his disposal, he would be vulnerable, but there wasn’t much chance he would find anything on the main streets. He had to walk the seedy alleyways reserved for rats and people who walked suspicious walks of life in order to find what he was looking for - although he honestly hoped he wouldn’t find anything.

It didn’t take long for him to run into a scantily clad woman with a flimsy dress dipping dangerously low to reveal too much cleavage. “Why, do you look so very lonely,” she crooned as soon as he made eye contact with her. “Would you like some company?”

His eyes narrowed at her. They were alone in the alleyway and if he still had his abilities he would simply make her talk. But now, as cruel fate would have it, he’ll have to rely on his charisma. Last he checked, he didn’t really have any. Maybe he would have been a half decent spy if he did have some charm about him, but no, all he ever had to rely on was his disgusting ability and now that was gone.

He felt a wave of sickness wash over him. That was the real reason why he’s at the Heart. He wanted to prove himself useful despite everything that’s changed.

“I would like to spend some time with a woman named Orrna,” he said flatly. “Do you know of her? She should be relatively new around here.”

“Ah, our rising star,” the half-naked woman said, to his surprise. “Or, uh, maybe I should say… faltering spark our dear Orri.”

Camaz balled his hands into fists. “Tell me where she is.”

“Oh Parts spare me, you don’t need to get angry at me,” the woman rolled her eyes. “ So much drama for a streetwalker. Follow me.”