“I’m just saying that you didn’t have to be an asshole about it, Dax,” Reverend Fraud muttered plaintively as he poured two fingers of whiskey into the two crystal tumblers he’d retrieved from the cabinet in his office. The sergeant couldn’t help admiring the impeccable craftsmanship that went into the gold rimmed glasses. Like everything else inside The Church of Tangible Benefits, the glittering crystal tumblers were luxurious to the point of being garish. “I know you feel a sense of perverse satisfaction whenever you disrupt my very legitimate church,” the reverend continued, “but that kind of hostility undermines any desire for cooperation.”
“In short,” the short, bearded man said as he slid one crystalline glass toward the sergeant, “It pisses me off.”
Dax couldn’t care less if Fraud found his methods distasteful. He’d been content to let the good Reverend babble about lost revenue and opportunity cost on their way to Fraud's ostentatious office so the other man could air some of his grievances. After a trip down a flight of stairs and a short walk across part of the lively casino floor, Reverend Fraud had welcomed Dax into his inner sanctum. Dax wondered idly if ‘throne room’ would be an accurate term as he glanced across priceless works of art displayed throughout the large chamber. Beside him, Lesteragilomorous was also surveying the landscape. Red flames danced in the otherwise empty eye sockets of the miniature dragon skull as it swept its gaze across the room.
“Not a bad treasure trove,” the staff murmured in its hauntingly layered voice. “It could use a grimoire or two. And the broken bones of your enemies. But otherwise its not a bad starter hoard. I hope you have it insured. If you need an agent, I know a djinn that offers excellent rates.”
Fraud blanched as he picked up one of the glittering crystal glasses. “Insurance? That’s an even bigger scam than the racket I run.” The reverend lifted the tumbler to his nose and rolled his wrist to swirl that amber whiskey. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he closed his eyes and breathed in the sharp aroma. “As for bones, the only place you’ll find the remains of my enemies is the bottom of Lake Arnquet.”
The reverend’s eyes snapped open to give Dax a significant look over the rim of his glass. “Because of accidents, of course. Its amazing how many opponents of The Church of Tangible Benefits have met tragic ends out on the water where no one could see them. Or find them afterwards. Truly the Gods work in mysterious ways.”
Dax rolled his eyes. He and Fraud had been doing this dance for years. If Dax let him, his old frenemy would sit on the other side of the table and talk all day long without ever actually saying anything. He could already see the glimmer in Fraud’s brown eyes, an expression that reminded him of a kid, two steps from the door, with a stolen chocolate bar in his pocket. Like many of the best thieves, the Reverend found the execution of a grift more satisfying than its fiscal results. Unfortunately for Fraud, Dax didn’t have time to play their usual game.
“The Gods do work in mysterious ways,” Dax said as he took hold of his glass of aged whiskey. He tried not to think about how many days worth of his salary sloshed in the twinkling glass he held. Instead of wallowing in envy, Dax reached across the table to clink his glass against Fraud’s before tipping it back and enjoying a healthy sip. And enjoy it he did. The burst of flavor across his tongue and the wave of tingles that followed made him wonder if this was what making out with an angel felt like.
Setting his glass down, he watched Reverend Fraud indulge in another slow sip of the whiskey. When Dax saw the look of ephemeral bliss flash across the reverend’s face, Dax attacked like a gluttony demon pouncing on a cheeseburger.
“The Gods have clearly sent me here so the church can bankroll my investigation,” the sergeant said with an air of nonchalance.
Reverend Fraud’s brown eyes widened in horror as he jerked the glass from his lips. Fraud made a wet, choking sound before his short, stocky frame became wracked with a sudden coughing fit. Whiskey sloshed over the rim of the crystal tumbler, scatting liquor the color of burnished gold across the table between them. Even Lester seemed startled, its mouth clattering open in an expression of wordless shock as he spun to face the sergeant.
Dax took small sips of his whiskey, savoring every drop while he waited for the con artist across the table to recover. Once Fraud began to dab at his watering eyes with the edge of a silk handkerchief, Dax continued, “I’m spearheading a time sensitive investigation, Fraud. Unfortunately, I don’t have the funding or the manpower to crack this case in a timely manner. That’s where you come in.” Dax offered the indignant conman a predatory smile that did nothing to soften the hard stare of his emerald eyes. “You’re going to provide the resources I need to conduct this investigation effectively.”
“Now wait just a damn minute,” the reverend blustered, “You can’t just requisition the church, Dax. I don’t have an army at my disposal, and even if I did, they wouldn’t do you any good. My people don’t prowl around in alleys or spend time looking for marks in seedy bars. We don’t track down the money here, sergeant, the money tracks us down.”
The myriad rings on Fraud’s fingers flashed in the light when he crossed his thick arms against his chest. Though he was considerably shorter than Dax, that didn’t lessen the intensity of the scowl he directed toward the Watch sergeant.
“I know you don’t have the people to scour the streets, Fraud. That’s why you’re going to pay the Lost and Found to do it for us.” From the side, Lester released a wheezing laugh that made Dax’s hair stand on end.
“Its a cosmic crime that you weren’t born with scales, Dax,” said the dracolich as its jaw opened and shut in a series of clattering laughter.
“Just how many members of the thieves guild do you need for this investigation?,” Fraud’s silky smooth voice had developed an airy note of stupefied disbelief.
“All of them,” Dax said idly as he reached across the table to grab the whiskey decanter. “Try to keep up, reverend. I told you that this operation is time sensitive.”
Fraud’s brown eyes blinked slowly as he watched Dax pour two fingers worth of whiskey in his glass. “That’s never going to happen. Can you imagine what Delilah will charge for something like that?”
“I’ll handle Delilah,” Dax said casually as he set the decanter aside. “All I need from you is a bag of coins.”
“You’ve always been a crazy bastard, but this is beyond absurd.” Fraud held Dax’s gaze for a long moment before he shook his head with a chuckle. Before he spoke again, his ring laden fingers closed around the crystal tumbler the sergeant slid his way. “I think the city Watch has warped your sense of humor, old friend.”
“I’m not laughing, Fraud,” Dax said as he took another sip of the divinely brewed liquor. “How much do you know about what happened in the barracks yesterday?”
The reverend’s eyes sharpened, “Not much. Most of what I’ve been told has revolved around a beastkin threatening Sylvareth.”
“Broadly correct,” the sergeant said, tipping his head forward in a nod. “The important details are that this beastkin started waxing poetic about revolution and then attacked Duke Prisee Summerson’s daughter. The elves are very interested in tracking down this beastkin. The feline goes by the name of ‘Tybalt’.”
Dax appreciated the multitude of emotions that flashed across Fraud’s face. Intrigue gave way to incredulity which gave way to stoicism once the shrewd con artist began to see the shape of things. He almost laughed when the reverend cleared his throat and set his drink to the side in a show of gravitas.
“We here at the church will hold a special service for the victim tomorrow. We’ll take up donations and give seven percent of the proceeds to the Watch to serve as reward money should anyone come forward with information about this Tybalt fellow.” Fraud steepled his bejeweled fingers as he spoke in a solemn tone.
“Seven whole percent, eh?,” Dax asked, a smirk scrawled across his lips as he swirled the amber whiskey in his glass.
“You know our usual rate is four. As you well know, we simply couldn’t operate without retaining some of the donations for our own coffers. The needs of the church must be met, after all, or the poor and downtrodden will have nowhere to turn in their time of strife.” The reverend’s smile was sweet as a mother’s kiss.
“Feel free to dip your toes into the murky pool of embezzlement,” the sergeant said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m sure it won’t be the first time.”
Dax’s emerald eyes languidly drifted across the various treasures occupying the room. He would never consider himself an art aficionado, but it didn’t take a museum curator to recognize some of the famous works adorning the walls. Likewise, some of the sculptures decorating the room would have commanded a small fortune at an auction house. But paintings and sculptures weren’t the only things scattered tastefully across the room. A tiny ship sat on one pedestal, its sails billowing out as if it were pushed forward by a gale force wind. An elaborate clock hung against the far wall, its visible gears, countless in number, spinning and clicking in a hypnotic dance of technological innovation. A mannequin stood in one corner, it’s back facing the room to display the silk robe it wore. The tiger print across the fabric was so lifelike that Dax was certain he could see the great cat breathing.
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It was an assortment of priceless collectibles unlike any other in the city of Dalthan’s Rest. And like so many things in The Church of Tangible Benefits, it had a secret. The secret shared by these artifacts was their previous owners. The items on display were not bought from traveling merchants or lucky treasure hunters. Every single piece came from the elven families that lived high above in the safety of the World Tree. Sheltered and naive, those wealthy aristocrats had descended from Sylvareth to sample the pleasures of the lesser races. By accident, or design, their pursuit of indulgence invariably led them to the casino floor. Once there, it was only a matter of time until their debt to the church reached such a crippling level that the only way to alleviate the strain was to settle the books with one of their family’s unique treasures.
Dax was one of the few people who knew the full extent of the long con taking place within the church. Obviously the church was not above lining its pockets with tourists’ money or the ill gotten gains of local ne’er-do-wells, but the real fortune flowed from Sylvareth down the trunk of the World Tree like a river of gold.
Dax was here today to make a bet that Reverend Fraud would do whatever it takes to keep the city Watch from interfering with his elven clients.
The sergeant’s leather seat groaned softly as the tall, broad shouldered man shifted to look toward the dragonbone staff that stood beside him. “Speaking of firsts, it was your first trip through the casino, Lester. Did you get a good look at all the games?”
Though the sinister looking staff had been silent for several minutes while the men spoke, it’s empty eye sockets sparked to life with a vibrant purple flame the moment Dax addressed it. “Of course I looked over the church’s operation,” the dragon skull replied, “I thought I could use the same business to fund my next undead empire. But it won’t work.”
Out of the corner of Dax’s eye, he caught the way Fraud’s lips pursed into a thin, pale line. The reverend was no fool. He could tell that the sergeant had come with a plan. He just couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
“Why won’t it work?,” Dax asked with the innocent guile of a child asking why the sky was blue.
“Because the games are rigged, Dax,” somehow the skull managed to give its eerie wail a scornful edge. “The only thing happening here is complicated theft. If I were going to fund my new kingdom with crime I’d stick to the classics like ransoming a princess or threatening to release a plague.”
Dax, ever the eager thespian, lifted a hand to cover his mouth. “Rigged? Surely not! How many of them are rigged?,” the sergeant asked, aghast.
“Are you being serious? How many do you think are rigged?” Despite the airy echo of its voice, the dracolich’s words dripped with contempt. “All of them, Dax. For example, all of the roulette tables have magnets under the wheels. They weren’t even hidden very well. A simple True Seeing spell was more than adequate to bypass the low level illusions.”
“Now wait just a minute…” The reverend began indignantly, only to be interrupted by a frighteningly eager dracolich.
“There’s also a safe built into the floor beneath Fraud’s chair. “ The purple flames dancing in the skull’s eye sockets flickered frantically in anticipation. “Shall we open it?”
Dax watched the blood drain from Fraud’s face. He couldn’t blame the other man for being caught off guard. Despite Lester’s contempt for the church’s subterfuge, there were very few spell casters capable of actually piercing those illusions. The handful of wizards that could accomplish such a feat had better things to do with their time. Like world domination. That was something Lesteragilomorous was intimately familiar with, considering he’d been attempting to subjugate the planet before a minor mishap had left him in his current state.
“What do you think he’s hiding in there, Lester?,” Dax asked idly.
“What would it need to be to convince you to let me open it?,” the wily dracolich replied. “Oh no! I think I hear the cries of scantily clad virgins! They’re begging to be saved by a dashing human with loose morals and tight pants.”
An unamused sergeant gave the evil dragon a flat look as he spoke with skepticism lacing his every syllable. “You hear a bunch of women crying for help. From the safe.”
The skull’s jawbone clattered as it snapped shut. Several heartbeats passed before Lester hesitantly ventured, “Would you prefer scantily clad men?”
“Alright. Enough is enough,” Fraud snapped as one of his meaty fists struck the table. “I’ve never let The Lost and Found shakedown the church and I’m not about to let the Watch. I’ve already wasted more liquor and time than I should have on this meeting. I think its past time for you to leave, Sergeant.”
“No, I don’t think it is,” Dax said as his lips curled into a sardonic smile. “Because if I have to leave here without your oath to help, Lester and I are going to stop by every table with an elf at it and tell them how the church has been cheating them. Then Lesteragilomorous is going to obliterate every scrap of magic in that casino so we can show them just how heavily the church stacks the odds in its favor.”
“Its your choice,” the sergeant continued with a facade of casual indifference. “Would you rather deal with me, or would you rather deal with a bunch of angry elves?”
“You can’t do this, Dax. If you turn the elves against me I’ll have the politicians shutting your department down faster than you can say ‘defamation’.” Fraud’s carefully modulated voice cracked beneath the strain of a suddenly uncertain future.
“If that’s how you want to handle it I can have Lester send a message to the mayor’s office for you.” Dax took one last moment to bask in the barely restrained rage written across Fraud’s face before he rose to his feet and took hold of the dragonbone staff.
“Fine!,” the reverend said explosively. “I’ll send a messenger to Delilah and we’ll negotiate a way to get her people looking for this beastkin. Happy?”
Dax could see the man mentally changing numbers on his balance sheet as he estimated the raw coinage it was going to take to fulfill such an unreasonable demand. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be quite that easy. “No,” the sergeant replied, “I’m not happy with that arrangement. I’ll talk to Delilah and when we settle on a price for her services she’ll send you a messenger that you will then pay in full.”
“Gods dammit, Dax. That woman will bankrupt me! Is that what you want?,” Fraud seethed.
The sergeant turned back to direct a level stare toward the reverend. For the first time since they’d sat down, anger flashed in his green eyes while he spoke, “Yes. That is exactly what I want. You’ve been exploiting people for years and, one day, I’m going to make sure that you settle the bill for those crimes.”
“Sarge…,” Lester began, alarmed at Dax’s white knuckled grip. “Don’t use me as a club again, Dax. Dax? This is my phylactery, Dax. It is a highly sensitive magical device. It is not some stick to use as a common bludgeoning tool.”
“But today,” Dax said, ignoring Lester’s growing concern, “I’ll settle for pruning your money tree instead of ripping it up by the roots. You and your church are going to contribute to Dalthan’s Rest or I am going to burn this den of depravity to the ground. When Delilah’s envoy shows up, you’re going to pay the man. Don’t overthink it, Fraud.”
Dax felt the moment teeter between success and failure. He’d pushed, and pushed hard, because he was certain that Fraud would use any wiggle room he could find to weasel his way out of parting with a few coins, much less the small fortune that the sergeant planned to pry out of his greedy grip. Worse still, he wasn’t asking the church to provide a large infusion of gold to the Watch. He was asking Fraud to hand over that money to his largest competitor. It had taken years for The Church of Tangible Benefits and The Lost and Found to divide up the city in a way that led to an uneasy truce. Even now, years after the open war, there was no love lost between the two organizations.
Dax was well aware that he could be asking Fraud to hand Delilah a golden sword. Flush with fresh funds, she could resume the turf war that had raged through the city streets for years. He wasn't the only person in the room that recognized the potential danger.
“You’re going to get people killed, Dax,” the reverend murmured, his brown eyes watching to see if the Watch sergeant flinched at his proclamation. "This beastkin you're after isn't worth setting that woman loose upon Dalthan's Rest."
Dax never blinked an eye. “You let me worry about Delilah. I’ll not have another gang war in my streets.”
A defeated smile twisted the corner of Fraud’s lips. “Oh? They’re your streets now, Watch Sergeant?”
“You’re damn right they are,” Dax muttered with a dangerous glimmer flashing in his green eyes.
“Great!,” Lester called out, his reedy voice so loud that Dax recoiled in surprise. “Now that we’re all on the same team you won’t mind if I open up that safe!”
“Behave, Lester,” Dax said with a roll of his eyes. “Its always a pleasure doing business with you, Reverend Fraud.”
“Sadly I don’t remember our business ever being pleasant, old friend.” The stocky priest rose to his feet. “In fact, the last time I remember us having a conversation like this was when the Corsairs came to port. You do recall that incident, don’t you?”
Dax didn’t care for the vindictive smile slashed across the priest’s face. He'd been afraid that he wouldn't be able to twist Fraud’s arm without paying for his transgressions. It appeared that his concern was justified. “I seem to remember you offering to help with those Clowns, yes.”
“Only after you came begging,” Fraud responded with a voice as smooth as the slide of a hangman’s noose. “The next time they come to town, and there will be a next time, I don’t think the church will be quite so eager to help.”
“Well, I’ll figure out how to handle that when it happens,” Dax assured the cleric as he turned on his heel and moved toward the door with Lesteragilomorous in hand. “One problem at a time, Fraud. One problem at a time. I’ll be seeing you.”
“That you will, Dax,” the reverend said to the departing detective in a voice as hard as forged steel. “That you will.”
A short, drab corridor led from the church’s inner sanctum to a staircase that connected the basement to the casino floor. As Dax began to ascend the stairs, Lester twisted in his hand so that the miniature dragon skull could face the sergeant. The dancing flames that served as the dracolich’s eyes studied the pensive human for several steps.
“Are you sure that was wise?,” Lester questioned. “That man is filthy as a month old zombie that fell into a privy, but he does have significant influence in this city. One of my greatest mistakes was not recognizing the power a priest can wield.”
“The next time my armies march to war I plan to feed every priest I find to the beholders,” the low drone of Lester’s layered voice was his version of a conspiratorial whisper. “You should try it. For science.”
The ghost of a smile briefly twisted Dax’s lips. “I’ll consider it. For now, we’re too busy to waste any more time on Fraud.”
“Oh? Where are we headed to now?,” the dracolich asked.
“Where else?,” Dax said as they stepped out onto the bustling casino floor. “Its time for me to pay a visit to the Lost and Found.”