9 - Fighting Fire with Fighter

“Darcent,” I said, taking her hand carefully. “Seeker. Look, I came to see Jeedle, is he around?”

“He’s at the north end with Gronn. Why did you need him?”

It seemed silly, saying it out loud. “You probably heard, but I got into a little trouble yesterday. Storm-laden was there, but things could have gone way worse. Do any of his fighters, you know, do protection?”

Annalisa’s eyes widened. “You mean, like, with businesses and people?”

“Yeah, exactly,” I said, nodding.

“Like when they came to my dad’s workshop and said he’d better pay them for protection and when he didn’t, they burned it down?”

“No, not exactly,” I said, shaking my head. “Like bodyguard work.”

“They do that, too! Jeedle charges two cunnings per day for his tins and bronzes, and five for his pig-irons, like Storm. Some of the fighters make more money guarding than fighting!”

Dragons above, I barely had five cunnings to my name period. I eyed the tin badge—not the fancy Adventurers Guild badges, just a stamped piece of metal—on her vest. Even two cunnings was a steep ask. Never mind that idea. It looked like my safety would continue to be in my own hands and I’d be sleeping with that dagger under my pillow.

“Alright, thanks,” I said.

“Hey, hey! Wait!” said Annalisa as I turned to leave. I felt her hand on my robe, holding me from walking away. I looked back over my shoulder. “Will you do a reading for me? I’ve got a fight tomorrow with a bronzer.”

That would be a bronze-rank fighter. Above her weight class. “You don’t think you’ll win?" I asked. I kept walking. She followed behind.

She scoffed. “I know I’ll win. Buuuut, a little insight wouldn’t hurt, right?”

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I tugged my robe free and dusted off the ash where she’d touched it. I didn’t think I would be capable of a reading for at least a few more hours. “Have Jeedle send you over to my place. Usual fee.”

Annalisa’s scowl turned bitter as we turned the corner “I already asked. He says I’m not worth the silver. Says he only lets me in the pits on account he’s friends with one of my brothers. Says I should give up the pits and be a tunneler.”

“You can tunnel?” I asked, suddenly interested. “That’s an incredibly rare talent!”

The plane-touched held her hands, palm-up. I could see her face screwed up as she concentrated. A pair of small shimmers formed above her palms, along with a gust of icy wind—shocking in the summer heat. It was a tiny tunnel through the plane of ice. People paid good money to move information and small valuables via tunnels—and only a few plane-touched had the ability. Though, ice wasn’t the ideal for either. She could maybe make a living chilling some rich sod’s drinking water.

“That’s amazing!” I said.

“I can’t even enter the planes. And tunneling makes my head hurt,” said Annalisa. Even that effort seemed to have strained her.

The portal snapped off with a pop and she gasped with relief. Annalisa seemed about as good at planeswalking as she was at fighting. Which was to say, not. Whichever path she took, Annalisa’s destiny was defeat and obscurity. She dug in her pocket and produced a handful of copper clips. “Look, I’ll pay for it myself. What can I get for this?”

I eyed the paltry sum. “A drink, to drown your sorrows.”

We’d reached the money changer’s by then, and Annalisa made to follow me up. “Come on, I saw your sign. I’ll make up the rest with my winnings from tomorrow.”

“No,” I said firmly, and shut the door in her face.

Not one to be discouraged so easily, she pounded on the door. I tried to ignore her while I pulled out Lancaster’s manual and tried to convince myself I wasn’t too mad to read. She persisted for a few minutes. Eventually, the knocks stopped. But just when I began to relax, I heard the sound of a struggle outside my window, and a pair of horns appeared, followed by black fingers and a puffing, blue face.

I grabbed my knife in case she meant to attack me, but Annalisa tumbled into the room and lay flat on her back. She stared up at the ceiling.

“You’d better not have damaged my landlord’s awning,” I warned, glaring down. I couldn’t afford to get kicked out of this place, especially if it meant losing out on both the deposit and the first week’s rent.

“Just one card!” she said. “Then, I’ll go.”

“No!” I said.

“And I’ll be your bodyguard for free, for a week!”

The last thing I wanted was this troublemaker trying to fight the entire world on my behalf. But I wanted her lying on my floor even less. I sighed.

“Money in the cup,” I said through grit teeth.

All of the plane-touched girl’s fatigue evaporated. She was up and in the chair so fast that her tail nearly knocked over my water pitcher. I caught it and pulled my Deck of Wills.

“Let’s get this over with.”