Chapter Thirty-Seven: So, if I’m completely crazy, then at least you made some good coin tonight.

“Fall in.” The dwarven guard grunted. He had the severe look most dwarves had but was young, his auburn beard only to the middle of his chest. “Ye should’ve been here an hour ago.” We were lined up at the service entrance, ready to get cleared to enter.

“We would’ve been early, but it was this lass’s fault,” Gossuli threw me an admonishing look. “Takin’ her sweet time gettin’ ready.”

“Worth it?” I asked the guard in my best dwarven accent. I batted my eyelashes and turned to the side. I kept my little display up, as I swayed my hips and giggled as girlishly as I could. “It’s ma first time at a fancy party; I wanted tae make sure I was as bonnie as I can be.”

“I’d say gettin’ bonnie shouldnae be that hard for a lass that looks like you.” the guard said with a grin. He ogled my breasts as I bounced a little for his benefit. “Maybe come back oot here if ye get the time.”

“Migh’ just.” I smiled. I reached up and ran my hand down the sleeve of his uniform. “I’m Voselin.”

“I good Dwarf name.” He stepped up to me. His hand reached around my waist.

“Frae ma mum,” I pulled him close and whispered all breathy in his ear. “Dad was an elf.” He raised his heavy eyebrows at this. Half-elves had a reputation, of course. Dwarven Elves even more so. “An’ what might yer name be?” I asked him as sweetly as I could.

“Nazzead Whitgrip at yer service, fair one.” He stepped back, taking a comical bow at me. “Head Guard fer this entire door.”

“I kent a handsome Dwarf like yersel’ wid have a strong name,” I gave him a curtsey. “An’ I’m the head servin’ wench fer the whole twelfth table,” I added with mock pride.

“An’ what a fine wench ye are.” He said, taking my hand and planting a kiss on it. I giggled, my cheeks on fire.

“For the love o’ the gods!” Gossuli bellowed from inside the doorway. The rest of the group had already shuffled in. “Get in here, ye insufferable wench!”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I whispered, kissing Nazzead on his bearded cheek.

“See that ye do,” He patted the spot where my lips touched him. “I’ll be needin’ tae return that kiss.”

“I’ll be lookin’ forward tae it.” I turned with a hop and flourish, and Nazzead gave me a playful spank on my butt as I scurried into the doorway and down the hall. I let out a goofy hoot and giggled. I gave him one last look and a wink before turning the corner.

“Think he’ll remember me?” I asked Gossuli as we powerwalked down the corridor out of site.

He snorted and grinned, which was as close to a laugh as I was going to get. “I dinnae think he’ll ever forget ye.”

It was all good; I mean, flirting with a handsome dwarf was always fun, but now there was no way he was going to remember the who and how many walked into the door he was guarding, just the lusty girl that kissed him on the cheek and promised to come back and see him at some point. I smiled as we hurried.

“One more thing.” He said with a grunt.

“What?”

“That accent made my ears hurt.”

“No more accent then.”

“Get a spell or add a lot more points to charisma before you go and try talking like that again.”

“You’re not, like, offended, are you?”

“The only one who should be offended is that idiot guard who fell for it.”

“Ah,” I sighed. “Poor Nazzead, he is pretty, though.”

The rest of the crew were waiting at the first door. I forgot that this palace was built by dwarves, for dwarves, which meant that all the doorways were going to be set at much lower height in the back corridors where grandeur was not a priority. All five of my friends were taller than the actual doorway. Okay, maybe it was not the planet’s best plan, but we managed to get inside. I was the only one that didn’t tower over the rest of the help. It was worrying since we had to monitor the banquet hall at some point. But these five couldn’t be circulating in public view. Shit.

“You do realize I am the one that has to go into the banquet hall,” I said.

“Yeah, Eric said. “Kind of figured.” “What do you mean?” Kev asked.

“Kev.” Jinx tapped on the doorframe. Kev just looked at him and shrugged, clearly not getting it.

“I can cast Face in the Crowd,” I said, patting Kev sympathetically on the shoulder. “It should keep focus off me.” The spell was pretty much designed for this kind of situation. I had been successfully using it as a pickpocket until now.

“Rogue shit,” Gem said with a smile.

“Right then,” Gossuli said, taking me by the wrist and unlocking the magic-suppressing bracelet. “Take the first left, then straight on tae the staging area. Plenty folks’ll be tellin’ ye where tae go frae there.” He gestured at the rest of the party. “The rest o’ ye, with me,” He started unlocking bracelets, and one by one, my friends appeared on my map.

“See you down there.” I winked and bounced through the door. I was trying to get myself jazzed up, thinking roguish shit and all that. I wanted to put forth confidence, even if I wasn’t feeling all that swell about things.

I don’t think they expected us to be coming. At least, that was my hope. I was left to live or die in the tower, and I am sure that the City Guard wouldn’t have been in cahoots with The Magistrate and Titus and let us walk out of the prison. Maybe she was aware that I had stolen some of her hair clips? Who knows?

But the thing about assholes is this: they tend to think everyone is an asshole. If I had escaped that tower and could not stop them, as they very arrogantly believed, they would have expected me to make a run for it. That’s what an asshole would do.

Titus walked out of there with the impression that I was thoroughly beaten. He was at least half right, and to his and The Magistrate’s credit, I did consider jumping the wall today. But not being an asshole has a way of fucking with your head. You just can’t let shit go that you should. So I was here, hatching a half-baked plan to save my friend and the rest of the Empire, I suppose.

“Aye, wench!” A dwarven man in a much nicer version of the uniform than mine barked as soon as I turned the corner into the staging area. He had something that looked like a riding crop in his hand and was pointing it at me.

“Table seven,” He then pointed it at a tray of small brandy snifters filled with a green liquor arrayed on a serving cart. “Be quick aboot it!”

I froze for a second as I processed the request.

“Aye, sir.” One of the serving wenches beside me said, pulling me by the arm and leading me to the tray. She was a tallish, dwarven girl, barely out of her teens, dressed in a uniform like mine.

The white bonnet tucked her hair away, though the gentle rise beneath it hinted at the thick, textured crown it contained. Her deep, dark skin, smooth and luminous, seemed to drink in the light, a perfect complement to the crisp, bright blue and yellow of her uniform. Even in the silly costume quality of a wench’s dress, she moved with effortless grace.

“You heard the butler,” she said sternly, shoving the tray into my hands. “Bad enough he’s in a mood; don’t go and make him angry.”

“Where’s Table Seven?”

She looked at me, her eyes wide with exasperation as she pointed up the wall and a large map of the banquet hall.

Map Added:

Royal Banquet Hall

My map populated the banquet hall and all the tables within. A marker indicated table seven. There were at least a hundred tables, if not more. Seven was a lot closer to the front than I wanted.

“Oh,” I said, a goofy grin on my face. “Sorry about that.”

“Come on then,” she said, grabbing her own tray. “You don’t want a taste of that crop, do ya?”

“I suppose I don’t.”

“Good, ‘cause we’ll be doing this all night. I don’t want to be unable to sit down at the end.”

She spoke with a much softer accent than other dwarves, and as we walked, she was half something, human, I guessed. Her body was thick but not dwarven thick. Good curves in the right places to keep a pervy little half-elf like myself distracted from the horrors of my life.

We rushed along the curving corridor towards the banquet room as fast as we could with a tray of drinks. My companion was a skilled server who moved with grace that defied her stature.

I kept up pretty well, happy Dexterity was over twenty because we were navigating a minefield of carts, staff, and trays. I felt like I was in a procession of ants, full trays of full glasses going out and trays of empty glasses coming back. All of us were marching, pretty wenches in frilly short dresses, handsome swains in matching tight pants and sleeveless shirts.

We quickly emerged into the massive banquet hall; I wasn’t sure how Face in the Crowd worked if I cast it right next to someone paying attention to me, so I gambled on holding off the casting until I knew where the Magistrate was.

Music trickled down from the orchestra above us, classic style music. I wasn’t any kind of expert, but it sounded just like the classical stuff from Earth but played with slightly different instruments. There were horns, woodwinds, strings, and percussion, just like from home, but I don’t know; they were different. The crowd noise clashed harshly with the orchestra, but the musicians just played on, indifferent to the fact that the voices of the party guests were drowning them out.

Each table had about twenty guests, so this was a full-on gala event. Dwarves were the primary race of attendees, but all the other familiar races were represented. Everyone was dressed to the nines. Women wore massive sparkling gowns of different colors, representing their respective houses. Men wore everything from tuxedo-like outfits and hot man skirts to robes and military-style uniforms, all decked out in colored sashes and lots of costume medals and jewelry.

We made our way to table seven. This was probably the third round of drinks or so, and the partygoers were definitely loosened up. I moved as quickly as I could, putting down full glasses and pulling up the empties.

Some of the men, along with some of the women, definitely needed to get the memo from HR about inappropriate touching, as I did get more than one hand grabbing or slapping my backside. I looked over at the other wench, and she just looked back at me with a shrug. Status had its privileges, I guess.

After pulling my last empty off the table, I stepped back out of groping range and surveyed the room. The empress and the royals for the kingdom sat at the long, raised table at the front of the room.

The Magistrate was not there. She was a servant of the Empire, not a royal, so she got to sit down somewhere with the other help. I started walking around the room, looking for where she would sit.

The Empress sat on a red throne-style chair in the middle of the main table. She was younger than I’d pictured. I knew she was twenty-three, maybe twenty-four, but when you hear “Emperor,” “Queen,” or “Empress,” you imagine someone older, someone draped in years of power and authority. But there she was, human, of course, her Asiatic features soft yet striking, her large, almond-shaped eyes warm with an easy, welcoming smile that made her seem almost familiar.

Her hair, though, man, oh man, that was a spectacle unto itself. A mane of fiery ginger-red that towered at least eighteen inches over her head, clearly a wig-and-crown concoction encrusted with glowing gems, sparkling jewels, and ribbons of gold and platinum, woven in a wild yet artful display.

Her gown was just as bold. A magnificent deep crimson and gold, far from the official imperial colors. But she was the Empress; who was going to tell her no? The fabric clung to her form, especially at the bust, pushing her cleavage up in a display as opulent as the gown itself. The dress practically pulsed with magic, gems crackling with energy, protective enchantments woven into every stitch. It made sense. She was power embodied, wrapped in layers of wealth and magic.

And there, nestled in that temptingly lush valley between her breasts, hung The Ruby Necklace. She wore it with such casual extravagance that it was reduced to a mere accessory.

I silently cursed myself. I had my hands on it. I could have taken the damn thing and run for the hills rather than follow a quest that just handed it to the enemy. If I had just Frodo Bagginsed that shit, I wouldn’t have been standing there.

“Come on!” my companion said. “No dallyin’, we need to get the next round out.” She balanced the tray on her right hand and poked me with her left. “If you start laggin’ behind, we’ll all get it.”

“Sorry,” I pretended to catch my breath. “It’s just, you know, the Empress.”

She smiled up at the table. “Aye, that she is.” She winked at me. “And a fair and grand one she is.”

“I’ve never seen her before.”

“Yer new to this,” she said as we returned to the winding corridor. “It doesn’t matter who’s sittin’ up there; we’ve got a job to do. The dinner’s where we have to hustle, but after that, we can relax and work on side income.”

“Side income?”

“How many hands did ye have grabbin’ at your sweet little behind?”

“Hard to keep track.”

“Aye,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Some of those hands have a few gold coins ready fer a bit more than just a quick feel.”

“During the dancing portion?”

“After the meal service, we get to work our second job, which pays a fair bit more.”

“Ah,” I said with a grimace, “looking forward to it.”

“Don’t judge. The coin’s good, and it don’t hurt a thing earnin’ it.”

We entered the staging area and were directed to another couple of trays and a new table. The butler was looking increasingly agitated, but he was holding it together.

Food would start coming after this last round of drinks, and we needed to keep the pace up, or the whole party would collapse into a black hole. He explained this to the hustling group of wenches and swains, using much more colorful metaphors than I could imagine.

“I was wondering,” I asked as we marched through the procession. “I mean, I heard the Magistrate likes girls.”

“Ah,” she said. “Is that what ye fancy?”

“I like gold,” I said with a grin. “But I don’t mind a woman’s touch. Wanna make sure I get a chance. I bet she’d pay well.”

“Ye can try,” she replied. “I’ve been at this since I was sixteen. I’ve never heard of her buyin’ time with a girl.”

“She hasn’t met me yet.” I turned and winked at her.

“Careful!” she barked, and I spun back around, narrowly dodging an incoming snack cart. Again, I floated a quick thanks to the gods that I’d invested in Dexterity.

“Sorry,” I laughed.

“Ye’re dangerous.” She giggled at me. “She an’ her Imperial friends are at Table Two.”

“I’ll pass by on my way back if that’s okay with you.”

“Maybe ye fancy a bit o’ the Butler’s crop on yer behind, too.”

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“I’ve never had a problem with a little bit.”

We moved quickly and efficiently at the table and had completely swapped out glasses in less than a minute. I was about to make a pass at the table when my companion grabbed my elbow.

“Dalalda,” she said with a cheerful smile.

“Voselin.”

“Ya know, Voselin,” she said in a voice barely audible over the crowd noise. “After tonight, if yer still lookin’ for a woman’s touch…” She gave me a wink.

“Oh,” I gasped a little. She was gorgeous, and I was very receptive, but by the gods, the timing was terrible.

“I might just take you up on that.” I winked back at her and squeezed her hand. “I’ll be right back.”

I cast Face in the Crowd and approached Table Two. Before I got too close, I could see it was fully occupied. I held the tray close to my face, even though I was supposed to be unrecognizable. Having her already familiar with me may or may not be effective. All I had to do was keep a visual on her and let the group know when she left.

I moved in close, approaching from the rear and the left. With Titus at her side, she was there, facing the Empress directly. She was very sociable, sipping her drink and chatting with the table’s other occupants, none of whom I recognized. Titus seemed smaller next to her. His massive form looked like it had deflated. I was enraged, but I had to keep my face calm.

“Girl!” One of her table mates, an Imperial officer facing me directly, raised his hand, waving me over. I just looked at him, trying to keep my face behind the glasses. “You! He barked. I moved over cautiously, keeping the wall of empty glasses between me and the evil couple.

“How…” My voice caught in my throat. “How may I help you, master, sir?” I moved close to the table so he wouldn’t have to shout.

“I like this one.” He said with a chuckle to his companion, another officer. “She uses all the right words.” He looked back at me. “Ale.” He pointed at the spot in front of him. He had barely touched the glass of the green stuff. I guessed he wasn’t a fan.

“As you wish, sir,” I said. I spun around, looking for a source of ale. I found a table of mugs across the hall, with the swain working hard to fill up empties for the staff to grab and deliver to the tables. I balanced my tray of glasses and headed over.

I met the eyes of the pourer, and he gave me a sympathetic nod and smile as I grabbed a mug with my free hand. I moved quickly, wanting to get rid of this tray and start monitoring the table as soon as possible.

I crossed to Table Two, passing a row behind, trying to stay as far from Eumenia and Titus as possible. The mood at the table was boisterous, the men and women enjoying their drink and company from the looks of it. I walked behind the officer’s chair and placed the mug over his shoulder.

The movement caught the eye of the officer across the table. He looked up at me, not catching my eye but letting loose a little male gaze across my body. Dark skin, braided hair, and a dot and line scar pattern on his forehead. I knew this asshole.

He quickly turned and was talking to his friend. I ignored the conversation. He had been the guy that led the attack on me, the one where I killed a whole bunch of his guys. I said a silent prayer to the gods for delivering me the Face in the Crowd spell because it just saved my life.

I fired off a message to the rest of the party on my way back to the staging area: Contact Established. From here, it was my job to keep an eye on the table. I counted heads; twenty-one were seated, including The Magistrate and Titus.

Party Chat:

Regan: There’s twenty-one total that I think we will have to deal with.

Jinx: Assuming there’s not more elsewhere.

Regan: The Magistrate, plus five to perform the ritual. That leaves sixteen for security. That’s a lot of muscle, and I don’t think they could have brought in more than that. Also, I don’t see Maltz anywhere around here, but I’ll keep looking.

Kev: We need to plan on him being here somewhere. Regan: Unless he really is just hired muscle and has nothing to do with the ritual.

Jinx: Too many unknowns.

I had made my way back to the staging area. Dalalda stood in a corner, balancing two trays of full glasses. “You gonna get to spend some private time with The Magistrate?”

“I don’t know,” I said coyly, giving the pretty half-dwarf a wink as I grabbed the second tray of drinks from here. “I hope we might get some alone time later.”

“I don’t know why, but I feel a little jealous.” She said as we marched down the corridor with the other wenches.

“Don’t be,” I said. “I doubt it’ll be much fun.”

We continued moving back and forth. After two more passes with drinks, we started serving the next course. It was a cold soup with a beetle floating in it. Gourmet shit for this place, but I wasn’t raised to appreciate the delicacy of eating bugs.

The pace also lightened. We moved to four servers per table, with two serving the soup and two serving wines paired with the course. We all picked up empties and brought them back to the staging area as we moved along. We were rushing to get the food out, but it wasn’t a battle to get as many glasses in and out of people’s hands as it was before.

We worked the forward tables to the back, and I kept a distance from Table Two while keeping a visual. I was more sure than ever that we would be finishing the dinner service before The Magistrate made her move.

Party Chat:

Jinx: We have a visual of Maltz. He’s down here, keeping an eye on the ballroom staging area.

Regan: Is he wearing a uniform or anything?

Jinx: He’s dressed as an Imperial Guard.

Regan: You know the drill: keep out of site.

Gossuli described the staging area under the ballroom during our planning session. It was accessible from doors on both the south and north sides, along with stairs from the west end of the massive ballroom. It has almost as much real estate as the room above it and was used to store furniture and decorations, all of which were used for the event.

Before the dancing portion of the gala, it was used to stage the drinks and buffets currently assembled in the kitchens for use during the dance. Everything would then be moved up before the guests arrived in the dance hall, and then it could be sealed off, and that would be it.

Regan: Any sign of Heather?

Jinx: Nothing yet, love, sorry.

Regan: You see her, and you get her out. Jinx: You know I will.

I sat with Dalalda during a short break while waiting for trays to carry. She bumped up against me playfully and told me about working at the palace and other events. Her older sister worked at the palace as a serving wench. Dalalda didn’t want to do it for a living but was happy to come and work special events like this one.

She had been doing it since she was sixteen, which is a little young to be earning the side money that she said was what made the whole thing worth it. Who was I to judge? I was a virgin for twenty-six years.

She worked as a barmaid at an upscale place near the Green District and did the parties as a side hustle. She had a room above the inn and was saving her gold so she could learn a trade. She wanted to be an artificer, maybe an alchemist. It was about the most normal ass story I’ve heard since I got here.

Telling a version of my life story that was mostly true worked well enough. I lived with my mom and dad in a quiet town in the mountains, and one day, I ended up leaving for a life of adventure in the big city. I fell in with some mercenaries, made a little money, and hustled around town to keep my room at the inn. A guy I knew got me the gig.

My story was a fantastic one, and I found I had to keep a lot of the details rolled back and tried to focus on aspects that were less homicidal and more mundane.

I don’t know why I sat there, snuggling with a pretty girl on a bench in a dark corner of the palace. I had tons of work to do. My friends were hiding in the shadows, stalking a bad guy and preparing to launch an attack to save the world.

I needed to keep an eye on the monsters out to do it, But I was flirting with a cutie who worked in a bar. She was as much a person from Earth as I have seen since getting here. There were dark deeds ahead, but it was nice doing something normal people do for a few moments.

She leaned over and kissed me. It was a remarkably unremarkable kiss. Just a little gentle feeler to test the temperature of the water. It was like a little question with no words. I could feel my cheeks glowing red as I looked at her face, full of anticipation and a little afraid of the bold move she just made.

I loved Gem with a passion. But Satyrs are creatures of passion, and she and her father didn’t stick around. They would go and come back, though, but that was all anyone could get from them. It was so strange that after living my entire life in self-isolation, I would be with a lover who was as different from human as I could imagine, and I was ok with it. Gem was the first lover I took and would be someone that, by her very nature, would not stick around.

I kissed Dalalda back, answering her unspoken question: Yes. Her smile lit our dark little corner up like a one-hundred-watt light bulb.

“Well now,” she whispered, “that was somethin’ I wasn’t expectin’ tonight of all nights.”

I sighed. “You’ve no idea.” I was thankful that Gossuli waved me off using my lousy accent. I was starting to get stupid ideas. We kissed again. Not the deep, crazy, heavy lip and tongue smacking that I was used to with Gem.

She was all soft, with no hard edges; it was nice having a bit of that in Murder World. The kisses kept coming back and forth, not really going anywhere, like playing on a seesaw. We just enjoyed the taste and feel of each other without throwing our entire bodies into it.

“Swains! Wenches!” The Butler bellowed to the room. It was time for the next course.

We bounced up and grabbed trays. Back to work.

We streamed into the banquet hall. Little yellow dresses and blue aprons bounced and bopped with trays of some kind of lizard meat that smelled like a cross between roast beef and gingerbread. Don’t ask me how it worked; it just did. I guess the first course was bugs, and the second was lizards. Sadly, my knowledge of Earth cuisine wasn’t much better than what I knew about fine dining here. For all I knew, this is what people in New York ate.

I kept my eye on Table Two, seeing no changes to the people sitting there as we rolled out the plates and paired alcohol.

Gem: Having fun?

Regan: Do you know what the girls here do to earn extra money?

Gem: Looking to get some gold?

Regan: No, it’s just kind of, well, I don’t know.

Gem: I think you want it to bother you, but it doesn’t.

Regan: I guess not. Found a pretty girl I like.

Gem: Lucky, all I have is Eric and Kev.

Regan: You could do worse.

I snorted as Dalalda and I moved back with our empties. She gave me a sideways look. We kept moving, dropping off empty trays at the cleaning station and grabbing full trays for the tables. On each trip out, I kept an eye on the table. In between services, I sat with my new friend and chatted.

It was a twelve-course meal, following a culinary pattern I was unfamiliar with. Next came shellfish, as large as the entire plate, its shell sparkling like a disco ball. It was steamed and smelled like garlic and butter. We were ushered out twice as fast to keep the dish fresh. Next came a bread course, a soft cheese course, and a salad course. We marched in and out of the tunnel with military precision. I kept my surveillance with no changes.

I dropped off the last of my salad plates and quickly looked at Table Two when I saw Titus rise from his seat. And march off toward the west end of the hall. I glanced back over my shoulder at Dalalda. She was watching me as I watched him, with a dark expression on her face. I smiled at her and nodded toward the corridor. She shook her head no. Shit.

Group Chat:

Regan: Titus on the move, heading to the west end of the hall.

Jinx: Keep an eye on him.

Regan: I can’t. Something’s come up, and I have to break contact. He might be heading down.

I stepped up to Dalalda and smiled as I gave her a gentle squeeze on the arm. Her look didn’t change as she marched toward the corridor. I followed right behind. She moved fast, dodging in and out of the incoming traffic and passing the slower wenches as they moved along.

She dropped her tray at the cleaning station with a rattle and dashed to the bench where we were stealing our moments.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, taking a seat next to her.

She looked up at me, steely-eyed. “Ye were eyein’ that man, Sybo?”

“I was eyeing a handsome man; I don’t know his name.”

“I don’t want to scare ye, but the girls need to stay away from Titus Sybo.”

“Why?”

“Because a fair number o’ them don’t come around anymore after that.”

“Oh,” I gasped. “What happens to them?”

“He has a brothel,” she said, still worried. “Some think they end up there, but no one knows. The only thing we know for sure is he has a thing for young girls, an’ not all o’ those that bed with him make their way home the next day.”

“Oh, gods.”

“The problem is, new girls don’t know to steer clear.”

“Well, Shit. Thanks. I wasn’t exactly eyeing him. What about the rest of the table?”

“I haven’t heard anything about the Magistrate, an’ I don’t know who the rest o’ her friends are.”

“Maybe I should find a better date for later tonight.”

“I think maybe ye should be considerin’ that.”

As hot as the goss was on my old boyfriend, I started feeling a squeeze of panic. Up until Titus left the table, things were making sense. We even had one of their guys ensure the space was secure and ready. I messaged Gossuli and the group to ask if there was a suitable place off the exit Titus was used.

Group Chat:

Gossuli: Aye, there’s a larder directly under the banquet hall, but it’s too small for the ritual you described and have any guards in place.

Regan: Well, shit.

Jinx: What’re you thinking, love?

Regan: I think we just got fucking played.

Jinx: So how do we fix it?

Regan: Leoleth, get on Titus. You’re my ace in the hole.

Leoleth: I’m an ace hole? You mean like an asshole?

Regan: Yeah, sure, what the fuck ever, you’re an asshole. But you’re my asshole, so get the on it.!

Leoleth: Sure thing boss, I’m your asshole!

Regan: Jinx, can you take Maltz?

Eric: I can take him with style.

Regan: OK, Eric, keep on Maltz; take him out if he tries to leave the space. The rest: over to where Titus is heading. But stay clear of the area; you’re the backup.

“I gotta…” I tried to come up with something to say to Dalalda. I liked her, but not the mission I was on here. “I gotta go.” I finally managed to blurt out.

“Right now?” she asked, looking a little shocked. “We’re almost done with dinner service.”

“Yeah,” it was tough to get this out. “Something kind of came up?” I looked at her face to see if she was buying anything.

“I need to take care of some stuff.”

“Ok,” she looked a little hurt. She must have thought I was bagging on her, not the Gala. She got up and moved to the trays to grab another one. I jumped up and followed her. I needed to exit through the banquet hall anyway.

“Not what you think,” I said, trying to catch up with her. “I really like you.”

I spoke to the back of her head, but she was listening because she paused, turned, and gave me two raised, full, dwarven eyebrows and an expectant head tilt.

“I’m working a job tonight,” I said. “Something is happening that I have to deal with.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to see if she was receptive. “What Pub do you work at?”

“The Silver Scepter. And what do you need to be doing right now that means you have to leave during dinner service?”

“A bit hard to explain.” She didn’t believe me. I needed to spin up something so she wouldn’t sound an alarm.

Then again, how bad would that be? I wanted to warn her to get her to leave, but she might get so spooked. I didn’t need the guards and the Imperials coming down on us while we tried to stop this.

I nodded at a small alcove about three-quarters of the way to the hall; it was big enough for us to stand in and be out of the line of traffic. She moved over cautiously. I scooted in after her.

“I’m kind of caught up in some palace intrigue. Something to do with that Titus Sybo guy and The Magistrate.”

“Yer not servin’ wench then?” she said, eyes narrowing on me.

“I don’t think it would be hard for you to believe. I mean, I suck at this.”

That prompted a little laugh, and she smiled. “So, what is it that’s got ye all mixed up in the business o’ the high and mighty?”

“They’re thinking about starting some trouble tonight,” I said, screaming at myself for all the stupid. “And I’m trying to keep them from doing that.”

“And why would ye be concerned with all that?”

I sighed, took a deep breath, and let it out. “Because They have one of my friends, and they’re going to hurt her.” “You’re not lyin’?” She looked me in the eye.

“No.” I leaned in. “I just met you, and I don’t have a clue as to how this might end, except...” I didn’t want to start a panic. “…Except I would suggest getting out of the banquet hall for a bit, at least fifty yards back.”

“We’re in the middle o’ the service.”

“I think we should be okay for about twenty minutes. After that, I would clear out and take as many of the boys and girls with you as you can. Just for a few minutes. They are planning on disrupting the Gala anyway, so there won’t be anything happening after the dinner service.”

“Yer talkin’ pure daft.” She furrowed her brow. “Otherwise, ye’d be goin’ to the guards.”

“Her guards,” I said. “They have my friend, and they are going to kill her.” I glanced around the area, making sure no one was listening. “Look, you don’t have to believe me. Just clear out for a few minutes.”

I pulled a small bag of gold coins out of my inventory and slipped it into the front of her apron. “That’s one hundred GP right there. Better than you could have dreamed for the night. So now you can go if you want.”

She reached down with her free hand and gripped the pouch; it was heavy in the little blue apron. Her eyes went wide when she got it open and could see it was the real deal.

“So, if I’m completely crazy, then at least you made some good coin tonight.”

“Ah don’t know what ta say.”

“Say you’ll get out and try to get as many to go as you can without causing too much trouble. I mean, I hope I can fix all this shit, but I don’t know.” I had a feeling, after working as a wench for the last couple of hours, that even if she did say something, by the time anyone took her seriously, the world would come crashing down.

“I will.” She kissed me on the cheek. “Let’s get these trays emptied, then.”

She bolted down the corridor, and I followed her. The traffic carried us along, and we entered the hall in seconds. We were halfway through the vegetable course, and the routine was pretty steady. We dropped off our plates and grabbed the dirties. I nodded at Dalalda, and she came over to me. I handed her my tray.

“He’s back,” she said, looking over my shoulder.

“Who’s back.”

“Titus Sybo.”

I turned and saw that he was sitting next to The Magistrate. It didn’t make sense. Panic gripped me for a moment. Leoleth. She didn’t tell me he was back.

Regan: Leoleth, where are you?

Leoleth: Right where you told me to. I have eyes on Pirate Man.

Shit. I moved over to where I had a good view of the table and cast Eyes of Death. The world turned dark, and I could see the life forces of the people in the room. There was always a bit of vertigo when I activated the spell. Around table two sat eighteen men. I snapped off the spell, and the image of Titus and Eumenia was back.

“Fuck Shit Fuck Shit Fuck Shit Fuck Shit,” I murmured.

“What’s it now?”

I turned and looked at her. Trying to keep my cool. “You need to go now.”