Chapter 22 - Lower City Squabbles
I had a moment of panic as I woke up in the unfamiliar room but quickly recovered my wits along with a massive hangover. I pulled on boots that I didn’t even remember taking off and made my way out to the common room.
Breakfast at a brothel is not something I ever expected to experience, and truth told, it was a rather sad affair. Only the truly rich or truly degenerate stay the night in houses of ill repute, and one of them walks out with a degree of shame on his way back to the upper city while the other greets all the girls on his way down to work at the docks.
I came out of the back rooms with a hand to my temple, tongue thick and sticky in my mouth while it felt as though cobbles rained on my skull. From the light filtering through the western windows, it was already early afternoon. I slid up to the bar and listened to some of the girls gossiping. I spotted Lenise, along with two others I didn’t recognize. I don’t think they were from the Mop
This was even better than the tea house for gossip. No one collects news like working girls, and I learned a bit of upper city drama that had made its way to the downs. Two of the highlords were caught in a legal dispute over who had rights to what causeways and aqueducts. No one yet knew what that meant for the middle city but shit always rolls down the mountain and the dragon was always hungry. Beyond that, people were still talking about the fight last night. None of the gossip reflected the possibility of a fix from our side, so that was a relief.
The day shift barkeep made his way out of the scullery and looked me up and down as he puffed on a pipe, thoroughly unimpressed.
“Don’t suppose you got tea, friend?” I asked, hand to my temple.
He disappeared into the back and came out with a bowl of oat mash and a mug of what was clearly weak ale with a flower sticking out.
“Close ‘nuff, yer lordship,” he muttered, with a mock bow.
Better than nothing. I picked out the flower and downed half of it, nearly coughing at the sour taste in my mouth. The lumpy oat mash just turned my stomach. After a few more draws I started to feel at least a little human.
On the other end of the bar, I spotted another familiar face. I tossed a splinter at Damen, the elf who had gone upstairs with Annalisa. He turned, looking like he’d been put through a ringer. His thousand-year gaze stared right through me.
“How you holding up?” I asked.
Damen got up from the bar and walked out of the room without a word. He’d developed a noticeable limp as of the previous night. I chuckled to myself over my bowl of mash. I took an experimental bite, but the slimy texture nearly pulled my gorge halfway up my throat and I didn’t dare try for another.
The hairs on my neck rose as I sensed a working of magic. I just had time to throw myself over and behind the bar as the door to the brothel exploded inward. I peeked over the top of the bar. Through the dust and the debris, I saw him, standing in the doorway: The Mayaz mage from the night before. His face was covered, but the magic was the same. But without the wane dragons sapping his power, he was much stronger and had no need to disguise it. I only saw him for a moment, though, before several figures ducked into the bar with bare steel.
Several people in the bar were already screaming. Luckily, the crowd was light. Kridick and Zarry were out of the brothel on other business, but we weren’t as helpless as we seemed. Four of the half-orc's men were in rooms behind the bar, and even Annalisa couldn’t have slept through that explosion. I quickly grabbed the keeper’s dirty bar towel and tied the sour-smelling rag around my own face. I pulled my knife as well as my deck and vaulted over the bar in time to catch one of the knife men moving towards the girls.
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I didn’t know what their aim was, but it couldn’t be anything good. My appearance had caught him off guard, but it got even worse for him when the deck fanned out around me and I called the two of knaves. A shadow sheen coated my knife, and it didn’t just stab into the man’s back, it practically exploded out the front of his chest. I rolled away from him and came face to face with a badged adventurer from the guild: A pig-iron, rank three. Tiny lettering read chopper, and that’s exactly how he put his short sword to use.
The blade came down at me from above, and I stepped back, calling on the four of dragons. My perception increased, and I could see the adventurer as though his intent was written on his face. I also saw he had two rings on his left hand that glowed. I cursed to myself as I side-stepped the thrust that followed. Magic rings. I couldn’t tell what they did, but it couldn’t be good news for me.
On the other side of the chopper, a couple thugs grabbed a pair of girls—both elves—and yanked them toward the door. The dragons in my deck seethed at the theft. I didn’t know why they wanted the pair, but I had bigger issues.
A few week ago, the chopper would have skewered me. A rank three adventurer was no joke. The way he moved and handled his sword, he would have easily beaten me. I hadn’t realized how far I’d come just from bonding with a couple more cards in the deck. He was still my better, but I could at least preserve my own skin.
The skewer turned into a sideways slice, and I barely parried it with my blade. From the front there was no point in using the two of knaves to enhance it. A strike from a metal sword would shatter the enchantment and only leave me more fatigued. I needed Annalisa.
Kridick’s men started coming out from the rooms behind the bar, and a couple of the knife fighters moved to block them in.
“Hurry up!” the mage called from outside. He cast his spider string spell, anchoring threads of sorcery to the corners of the room and using them to yank people and furniture out of the way. One of them latched on to one of the girls and yanked her hard against the wall. She hit hard and didn’t move from where she fell. “The devilborn, too!”
The chopper pressed in again, stepping in with his left foot and bringing an upward sweep that cut off my only way around him. I knew he’d follow it up with a chop that would probably smash right through my guard. His sword was so fast I had no way to get inside. I think one of his rings must have been giving him unnatural alacrity.
Luckily, Annalisa was faster. She hit the first floor of the brothel and saw me in the corner, with two of the girls against the wall behind me. She dove for the chopper’s waist, hooking her fists around his gut and half-spinning half-tumbling back. The last I saw of the chopper’s face was the shocked expression, before one of his boots caught me on the chin as he was pulled back. His sword clattered to the ground, and his skull hit the floor with a crack.
I vaulted over Annalisa, pausing only to touch the three of dragons and share what power I could with her.
Several of the girls were being taken. Annalisa didn’t even stand up. She opened a pair of portals a few feet off the floor and thrust her hands through them, grabbing two different girls from behind. She was yanked off the ground and against her own portals. She cried out in pain but held fast, stalling the attackers.
I dashed forward. Two of the girls that I recognized, Lenise and Mithra, were already out the door. Annalisa had grabbed two, but she was pulling against four men, and two of them were raising knives. I reinforced her with the towers, and their knives scraped across skin instead of slicing through it.
I made it to the group, grabbing one of the men by the tail of his coat as I fanned out my deck. I wouldn’t let the Mayaz take them. This was my turf. I would defend it from all invaders. I felt the surge of a new card bonding and touched it with my fingertip. Time seemed to slow for a moment as power flooded into and out of the card. But, without the light of the wane dragons muting him, the Mayaz mage had his full suite of powers. He summoned a gust of wind that blew me back against the bar. My back cracked, and I saw stars. The knife men holding Kridick’s men back withdrew as well, and as soon as they were out the door, the mage dropped a thick white fog that filled the brothel and the street.
Annalisa lost her grip on the portals and had to let go. Even with my strength flowing into her, the act of maintaining two separate tunnelings had to have been an immense strain on a plane-touched who, until recently, could barely manage one.
Kridick’s men rushed out into the street, but I knew they wouldn’t find anything.
But I knew where they were from. And where they’d be going.