by A. C. Cobble
“One we cannot discern from down here,” corrected Rhys.
Towaal smiled grimly. “True enough.”
“Someday,” declared Ben, “we are going to come across an easy answer.”
“That day is not today,” said Amelie.
Rhys stood and cracked his knuckles.
“What’s the…”
He trailed off and sat back down. He grabbed his ale mug and turned it up, his eyes following a new set of people ascending the stairs. Three men, all heavily armed, had falchions hanging from their sides and short spears resting on their shoulders. Knives and short swords dangled from half a dozen sheaths strapped to their bodies.
“Customers?” guessed Ben.
“No one goes that heavily armed into a whore house,” said Rhys.
“What else do you have to tell us about these places?” questioned Amelie.
Rhys winked at her. “Seriously, that’s the kind of place you don’t bring weapons into. It’s bad form in the seedy ones, and this tower looks far from seedy. It just wouldn’t happen here. A place like this would turn heavily armed customers away in the blink of an eye. Their business is about staying outside of the concern of the watch, and you don’t do that by getting heavily armed men drunk and aroused. That’s a recipe for disaster, so you take their weapons. There are still brawls, but the bouncers can come in and quiet that down quick enough.”
“What are they doing then?” asked Ben.
Rhys could only shrug.
A quarter bell later, the women shared a look.
“What?” asked Ben.
“The surge in energy has stopped,” explained Amelie. “Whatever they were doing, it’s done now.”
Ben frowned, glancing out the window. All appeared as it had before.
Another quarter bell passed. Then, the two mages appeared at the doorway of the tower. Towaal hid her face, but Ben saw the women were paying no attention to anyone at the tavern or anywhere else for that matter. They had cold, determined expressions and strode with purpose north, toward the Sanctuary.
“How long do you think it would take to walk up to the top of that tower and then walk back down?” asked Rhys. “A quarter bell, I would guess.”
Ben grunted. That was enough time for the armed men to walk up and the mages to stop what they were doing then walk back down.
“A pair of mages and a trio of heavily armed warriors all possibly going to the same place near the top of a flophouse,” said Amelie. “It sounds like the start of a joke, but for the life of me I can’t think of what the punchline would be.”
“Let’s wait,” said Ben. “We’re here. We may as well see what else we can find out.”
They sat patiently, watching the customers stream in and out of the tower.
“How many working girls can possibly be in that place?” wondered Amelie.
Rhys smirked. “A lot of the building is likely high-end taverns, durhang dens, private rooms, apartments for visiting dignitaries, batching facilities, that kind of thing, but you’d be surprised how many girls are in there. The City is big, obviously, but it’s also a hub for trade and political maneuvering. A bunch of wealthy foreigners arrive and are told it will be a week before the Sanctuary can see them. What do you think they’re going to do? They’re not going to spend that week at the sculpture garden, I’ll tell you that much.”
Ben scooted closer to the window and looked up and down the street, not really certain what he was trying to see but knowing that just watching people come and go from the tower wasn’t going to answer the questions he had bubbling in his head. He glanced up and smiled.
“Sky bridges,” he said.
His friends clustered together, looking up the length of the tower. Half a dozen bridges connected to it far above their heads.
“Looking for a good time?” asked a voice behind them.
Ben spun, surprised at the voice, but a wave of relief immediately washed over him when he saw their serving woman standing at the table.
“That place costs a fortune,” continued the woman. “I can send you somewhere that’s half the price, and the girls are twice as good looking.” She looked at Towaal and Amelie. “Girls, boys, whatever you need. There are cheaper and better places. Just mention my name, will ya? I know, I know, you’re thinking I get a kick-back. Well, I do. Don’t mean it ain’t good advice. My sister works at the Monkey’s Tail. Wouldn’t let her work there if it wasn’t clean, would I?”
Ben coughed.
“Another round of ales and wine, please?” asked Rhys.
The serving woman shrugged. “Just trying to save you some coin. Once you get enough drink in ya, and you want to go somewhere, let me know. The Monkey’s Tail is just two blocks away.”
Rhys nodded. “We’ll consider it.”
The woman turned to go, but Ben called out, “Hey, if this place is so expensive, what are all these sky bridges connecting to it? It seems like they’d want to keep an eye on people coming and going through the main floor, make sure they pay and all of that.”
The serving woman grinned. “There’s expensive, and then there’s you-don’t-even-want-to-know, son. Yeah, sure, they want to keep an eye on who is coming and going, but that don’t mean all the patrons want to be seen. Lords, ladies, merchants, all us common folk know what they’re up to, right? Knowing and seeing are different, though. If you’re some fancy lord, your wife may suspect what you’re up to, but if you’re seen walking in the front door of that place, she has to do something about it.”
“Makes sense,” murmured Ben.
The woman nodded. “Lord Gulli is highborn himself, you know? It’s not just some fancy moniker he took on to impress people. He was born into it. He knows how to cater to his ilk. It’s why he’s been so successful this last year. He’s turned the Octopus into the busiest whore house in the City. That’s why it’s so overpriced, mind you.” A call from across the room caught the serving woman’s attention. “I better go ‘fore these folk start pulling their own taps. I’ll be back with your drinks.”
“Well,” remarked Rhys after the woman passed out of ear shot. “That is interesting.”
Amelie looked up at the sky bridges again. “Do you think we should try to access one of the bridges? There is one way up there. It looks like it connects to the top floor or close enough. Haven’t you said, Rhys, that it’s always better to go in near the top?”
“It is,” confirmed the rogue.
Ben shook his head. “No, I think before we go charging in there, we should check with Renfro.”
“Renfro?” asked Rhys. “You want him to make a plan?”
“He hates Gulli, and he has resources,” reminded Ben. “He’s the one who found the mages coming in here in the first place, remember?”
Rhys sighed. “We’re never going to be rid of him, are we?”
After returning to their hideout, they sent word to Renfro, ate, and rested the rest of the afternoon and evening. As darkness fell on the City, the Rat and his runaway mage, Sincell, came to find them. Renfro had his two thugs as well. Ben didn’t think either one ever left his old friend’s side.
“My boys and I tend to avoid such high-end establishments. They always have connections to centers of power, watch commanders, lords, that kind of thing. Not the people we want to steal from,” said Renfro, a smile splitting his face. “To tell you the truth, I’ve never even been inside, but with a chance to get back at Gulli, I’ve decided I should come with you. I want to help.”
Ben eyed Renfro’s attire skeptically. He was certainly dressed for the part. The Rat had on black trousers, a black tunic, a black cloak, black gloves, and two daggers with black wire wrapped around the hilts. He crossed the room, his black cloth boots making no sound on the thick carpets. He made to pour himself a glass of wine from their decanter but set it back down when he found it was empty.
“You need more wine,” remarked Rhys, drawing a frown from Renfro.
The Rat sat down the decanter and eyed
everyone else’s clothing. “Do you need to change?”
“Renfro,” explained Rhys. “We’re going to be walking through the most populous city in Alcott. This isn’t a town you can scamper along the rooftops of the towers. There are lights on every street corner and most of the windows will be lit as well. We’re going to a tower that will be at peak business over the next several bells. If we want to stay hidden, we do it in plain sight by blending in. You, ah, well, you’ll stand out like a sore thumb. You couldn’t look more like a thief if you tried.”
Renfro stared back at him blankly before finally responding, “Rhys, it’s night outside. It’s dark. You wear black to blend into the night. They do it in every story.”
The rogue drew a breath, preparing to respond, but Ben interjected, “We didn’t bring anything appropriate for skulking, Renfro. Hopefully, we can make do. I’m assuming you found a place we can observe the top of the tower? Lead on.”
The Rat nodded briskly. “Yes, I’ll lead the way.”
Behind his back, Sincell winked at them. The thugs maintained the same stoic expressions that they always had.
In a quiet column, they made their way down the stairs and out of the seedy apartments that they were housed in. Within the decrepit structures, Renfro had lined the floors and walls with luxury. Impulse buying of expensive items that he didn’t need or know how to appreciate, thought Ben.
Outside, the streets were filled with the detritus of life. Unlike other areas of town, no major effort was made to beautify this quarter. There were no parks, no statues.
“The Sanctuary doesn’t spend much here, do they?” mumbled Ben, thinking about how the mages were still responsible for management of the city.
“Out of sight, out of mind,” responded Rhys. “You’ll never catch a mage in this neighborhood.”
Towaal coughed behind them, and Ben looked over his shoulder.
Rhys snorted. “In your hundreds of years living in the City, how many times have you been on this street?”
“What’d you say?” asked the Rat from up front. “Hundreds of years?”
“Looks like these buildings have been here hundreds of years,” replied Rhys quickly. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” answered Renfro. After a moment, he thought to add, “Or care.”
Sincell, who surely overheard them, didn’t bother to clarify the discussion for her boss. Ben began to wonder why exactly she was working for him. A mage, even a runaway one, would have plenty of opportunities to make a fortune out in the world. She had no obvious reason to be employed by a cut-rate thief master. Ben resolved to keep an eye on the woman.
They made it through the backstreets and alleys of the city without incident, except for when they crossed one major thoroughfare and spotted a knot of the Sanctuary’s guards. They ducked out of sight and waited nervously as the men passed, but it was a routine patrol, and the men didn’t pay any attention to their party. They were likely looking for more obvious signs of disruption like tavern brawls and thieves climbing up the outsides of buildings. They were a show of force to discourage surreptitious activities. Ben grinned, thinking about what they were intending to do.
“What?” asked Amelie.
“Nothing,” he whispered back.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Since the day we fled this place, I’ve been itching to come back and settle the score,” he said. “For months, the Veil’s minions chased us from one side of this continent to the other. Then, she had her spy Milo go with us to an entirely different continent. She sent hunters after us, mages, even an undead, uh, whatever Eldred was. For the first time, we’re back on her turf, looking to strike a blow.”
A smile stole onto Amelie’s lips.
“When you put it like that,” she said. She looked at the back of the Sanctuary’s guards as they vanished down the street, “maybe this will be fun.”
They started off again, weaving away from the main roads until they found themselves close to the tower, the Octopus as the barmaid had called it. Ben stared up at the soaring spire of stone, wondering why it was called that.
Instead of going straight to the tower, Renfro turned two blocks before and led them into a narrow tower nearby that housed a number of leather workers. They began to climb a tight spiral in the center, moving higher and higher. Most of the shops were closed, but the people in the ones that were open barely spared a glance at Ben and his party. They were bent over, focused on their crafts. Apprentices, guessed Ben, scrambling to finish projects after their masters had gone home for the day. It was getting late, but the stairwell in a commercial tower would be as busy as a street elsewhere.
After ten flights up, judging by the ache in Ben’s calves, they took a turn and stepped out onto a narrow stone bridge. The City rose around them, a forest of towers sparkling with lit windows. It would have been beautiful if Ben wasn’t squeezing his eyes shut and trying to ignore the fatal drop below them.
“At least it’s a stone bridge,” mentioned Amelie.
He nodded and cracked one eye open enough to follow her down the center of the path.
Sincell, evidently feeling none of Ben’s fear of heights, was leaning over a chest-high rail and peering below them. Ben shuddered.
“Guard troop,” she said. She looked back and saw Ben and Amelie were venturing nowhere near the edge. “Can’t you hear the boots?”
Ben concentrated and heard she was right. A company of men was marching below, their heavy military-grade boots stomping loudly on the cobblestone streets.
“Hundred of them, I’d guess,” added the rogue mage.
Renfro, peering back to see why they weren’t coming, called, “It has nothing to do with us.”
Ben hoped the Rat was right. He breathed deeply and followed his old friend onto the bridge. Finally, they made it through the door into the next tower.
“I hope we don’t have to do that again,” Ben said. His heart was still racing after being so high up in the open air.
“Once or twice more,” responded Renfro. “Maybe three times.”
Rhys slapped Ben on the back. “You’ve always survived when you’ve fallen off things like this before, right? No reason to worry now.”
Ben groaned.
“Come on,” hissed Renfro. “We have four more bridges to get across before we get to where we can spy on the top of the Octopus.”
Five bridges and numerous flights of stairs later, they stood in a room with the double doors thrown wide to an open-air balcony. A waist-high balustrade blocked a twenty-five-story drop to the streets below. Just two stories down, though, was a rope-and-wooden-slat bridge. It was wide enough for three big men to walk abreast, but as they watched, it swayed gently back and forth in the steady night breeze.
“Why?” groaned Ben. “Why would you make a bridge this high out of rope! What happened to the stone ones that we crossed below?”
“This high up,” explained Rhys, “the towers sway. Not much unless it’s a really strong wind but enough that you want a bridge to be able to flex with the motion. Otherwise…”
Rhys dropped his hand and whistled, lowering it until his palm smacked into his other hand. Ben winced at the slap and took an involuntary step back from the edge of the balcony.
“How did you find this apartment?” wondered Amelie.
She was looking around the room they were standing in. The walls were lined with red silk. A giant bed with luxurious gold linens sat against one wall. On the opposite wall and the ceiling were mirrors. Golden lampstands stood scattered around. Against the third wall hung a dozen whips. Black leather outfits and black iron chains were stored in a gilded, glass-doored wardrobe. Amelie was examining the whips and outfits. She gave a mischievous look back at Ben. He frowned, choose to ignore her, and turned to Renfro.
“Gerrol Gundar,” answered the Rat. “Owner of the Lucky Siren gambling parlor, which takes up the four floors below us. He also owns a number of, well, downright predatory gamblin
g halls along the water front. A gang of thieves started knocking over the places, coming in with heavy muscle, scaring off the gamblers as well as stealing whatever coin they could get their hands on. Classic smash and grab. Gerrol got in touch with me and begged for my help, so I put a stop to it.”
“How’d you negotiate with the muscle?” asked Rhys.
Renfro blinked at him. “They were my guys. I just told them to stop and sent ‘em somewhere else.”
“How did he know they were yours?” asked Ben.
One of the Rat’s thugs let out a wheeze, which sounded suspiciously like he was trying to cover a laugh.
“Know they were mine?” exclaimed Renfro. “Damn, Ben, if Gerrol ever found out that was my muscle, I’d be flying like a rock outta this tower instead of getting the use of it for the night. You’d be scraping me off the cobblestones.”
The thug wheezed again, and Ben wondered if maybe it was him who’d been smashing up Gerrol’s gambling dens.
“That’s not important,” declared Renfro. “What is important is that we have a perfect view of the top six floors of the Octopus. I’ve asked around, and none of those are open to the public. Either they’re for more exclusive whores than even I can find out about, or it’s private quarters for someone important. None of the thieves knows what happens up there.”
“Someone important,” murmured Towaal.
She was standing near the balustrade, eyeing the tower across from them. The clear windows at the top of the Octopus were just two hundred paces away, but all of the lights were out. They may as well have been solid stone.
“Can you send a light over there?” asked Ben.
“We could,” responded Towaal. “Remember, though, something was happening up there, something that required a great deal of energy. I’m afraid the place could be warded, or maybe there is someone there in the dark, sleeping or on watch. Either way, it’s too great a risk. We need to stay here until we get a view into those windows.”