12 - Body Guarded

I did two more readings, and then slept until noon. One of the readings was for another of Jeedle’s fighters, and the other a one-card draw for a drunk looking for his apartment key.

Even charging the drunk double and finding his keys in his pocket without having to do a full reading, my reserves were as slim as my funds. Kridick held the majority of my silver in his stubby claws. The rest of the afternoon I passed studying Lancaster’s Manual of Wills. It had- little to say about suited draws, like the one I’d done for the elf mage. As far as I know, they were exceedingly rare. I casually rifled and shuffled the deck with one hand while I read.

Only at the higher conceptualizations of towers does one understand how the suit fits among the inverted. At a fundamental level, a tower does not protect.

I snapped the book shut with a sigh. Towers that don’t protect. Why are mages given to such cryptic crocks of shit? One and all, I swear we get off on being mysterious and brooding. At least for me, it’s more of a business strategy. No one in this part of the city wants to hire a mystic whose face is clearly visible.

I focused on the suit of towers in my deck. “Don’t protect me,” I ordered. Apparently obliged, nothing happened. Grumbling, I put the deck away. Not to be outdone, my stomach announced its own displeasure. I grabbed my robe and made my way out.

The sun had begun to set as I descended the stairs to the money changer’s. I went in and swapped silver for copper. I needed food, and then I needed to find…

“Darcent! Hey, Darcent!”

A bouncing blue form rushed toward me. My right hand went to the knife at my hip, while the other flicked open the seal on my deck. But I recognized Annalisa.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

She gave me a queer look. “Did you forget I’m supposed to be your bodyguard for a week? Except for when I’m training, or fighting of course.” She listed off on her fingers. “Or eating, or bathing, or visiting my brothers,” she appeared to consider one other thing, but shook her head, muttering. “Nah, I could do that at the same time.” I really didn’t want to know what it was.

“Shouldn’t you be training now?” I asked. “Your fight is in what, a couple hours?”

“I’m resting up!” she said, defensively. Then flicked the tip of her horn. “Jeedle kicked me out of the pits. He said no more sparring ‘til after the fight.” To be fair, once I looked closer I could see bruises on her face and knuckles. Whatever else she was, Annalisa didn’t seem the type to shy away from a scrap.

“Fine,” I said.

I expected Annalisa to jump between me and nearly everyone I passed on the street, but she fell in step behind and to my right, keeping a watchful, but blissfully silent eye on our surroundings. If I’m being honest, it felt… good… to have a bodyguard. Like I was someone that mattered. Not just the academy dropout doing penny fortunes—though I was also that, too. The suit of dragons resonated with the sense of pride, and I let me chest puff out just a little bit more as I made my way to the cafe where I could get a bite to eat and eavesdrop on the news.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

I ducked inside, grateful for the reprieve from the heat. I took a table near the corner, but one aspect of having a bodyguard is that everyone else apparently clams up when you’re around. The effect was nice, but I couldn’t afford to buy outdated news scrip. One of the serving girls came by with a pot of tea and a plate of bread and butter.

“Who’s your friend?” she asked.

Annalisa glared up at her, doing her best to look intimidating. The server ducked back and made herself scarce. Not out of fear, mind. The staring was just so awkward.

“Would you sit down, already?” I said.

“Stormy says bodyguards never sit on the job,” she muttered back at me.

Stormy? Surely no self-respecting orc would let someone call them that. “No one has ever been attacked in a tea shop.”

“That makes it the perfect place for an ambush!”

I growled. They’d brought two cups, so I poured one for Annalisa as well. “You’re drawing too much attention. Sit down, have some tea.”

The plane touched girl sniffed, and then sat and began tearing into the bread with a single-minded intensity.”

Dragons above. This girl really was a menace. But also, a mystery.

“How does a tunneler end up in the pits, anyway?” I asked.

Annalisa washed down the bread with a scalding cup of tea, and I swear I saw steam come off her horns. She looked at me for a moment, considering. Then she shrugged. “My seven older brothers brought me here when I was young. Our village flooded, and the people thought I must have been the one what did it. Seeing as I’d been marked by demon’s blood.”

Seven older brothers? Well, that certainly accounted for the competitive streak in the woman. That must have been one raucous household.

“So they’re not plane-touched?”

“Just me. Valk, that’s my oldest brother, knew Jeedle and got him to take me on. That was before I figured out how to fight or tunnel to either plane.”

“Either?” I asked. “You’re double-marked?”

“Frost and obsidian,” said Annalisa. “Frost has a little value, but obsidian is worthless. The entire plane is obsidian! You can’t even tunnel through or walk it! Can’t even put your hand in the portal. You just bounce straight back off.” She spread her hands. “How are there even demons there?” she demanded.

“So it’s an impassible barrier you can summon at will?”

“I…” Annalisa cocked her head. “I never thought of it like that.

I could think of about a thousand uses for something like that. It was like combining the three of dragons and the three of knaves into the flaming shadow clone, but possibly even more useful. Something that didn’t simply deter an enemy, but cut them off entirely. Something in the deck resonated with that thought. I stilled it with a force of will, which only seemed to make it resonate harder. If it buzzed any more I thought my teeth might start clacking.

Anna refilled her cup, but rather than dashing it down her throat, she held it with both hands. The inverted precipice still burned above her head. Thrice-marked, really. Her legacy was a cursed childhood of bigotry and superstition. Her adult life would be one of abject failure, if her crown was any indication. To be a double-marked devilborn touched by two borderline useless planes and, by all odds, hopeless in the pits. No one was in this woman’s corner. Hells, even I’d bet against her. And Kridick hadn’t even given me even odds. Despite coin-in-hand at the time of the wager, I’d only be getting an extra three cunnings if she lost. A small fortune to me, but what was it measured against her story?

Well, it was three cunnings. The dragons echoed their agreement in my deck.

I pushed back from the table. “Come on. I have more errands to run.”