by Logan Jacobs
I was about to question his use of the world “control,” but I decided to keep my lips closed.
At the moment I needed him.
“But sire,” Merith insisted, “don’t you see the danger in all of this? The elves will find out, and they’ll come after your head. It’s bound to happen eventually.”
“No Merith,” the dwarf sighed. “This is essential to our way of life. After the elves outlawed it, we all felt like a piece of ourselves was missin’. We increased the amount we smoked, but it never filled the hole alcohol had occupied. This will make dwarves whole again and fill the mafia’s pockets with silver and gold.”
The dwarf’s eyes gleamed in the lamplight of the tiny office as he imagined the riches he would attain from our venture together.
I knew I had him hooked, but what happened next would establish how much he’d have me hooked.
“The name’s Hebal, the head of the mafia’s operations,” he explained as he extended a sooty hand across the desk. “I’m sorry for the rude introduction earlier, but I thought I was dealing with a thief, not a business partner.”
“I’m Wade,” I replied as I glanced at his hand but didn’t shake it. “I was a thief, but now I’m an entrepreneur. Also, we are not in business yet.”
“Name your terms then,” Hebal implored.
“I’ll bring you the barrels, and you fill your counterfeit antique objects, preferably vases, with the whiskey I make,” I offered. “Each barrel will fill around 200 vases, and I’ll charge ten gold coin per barrel on delivery and 10 coppers per vase you sell before I bring you the next barrel.”
“That’s thirty gold a barrel!” he hissed as he smacked the flat of his hand on the desk.
“Or you can think of it as twenty-five copper a vase,” I said. “I’m thinking you can easily charge five silver per vase. Hell, this is the only whiskey in the city, so you can hike the price up to whatever you decide.” I turned to the younger man and raised an eyebrow. “Would you pay ten silver for a bottle of that?”
“Absolutely,” Wemder said as he glanced down at the bottle in his hands, and I could almost see the desire in his eyes. “Uncle, I want this for my wedding. Think about--”
“I’m thinking!” Hebal hissed as he narrowed his eyes at me.
Then the two of us stared at each other for a few moments. I knew the first one to speak was going to lose the negotiation.
“How much can you make?” he finally asked, and I knew I had him.
“About twenty barrels a week,” I said, and I resisted a smile when I saw him lick his lips. “But I’ll need a few weeks to get up to that. I’ll promise ten for the next two weeks.”
“That’s a lot of gold for a human to be carrying around in his pocket,” he remarked as his eyes roamed over my threadbare clothes.
“I’ll have to get bigger pockets then,” I snickered.
“Ha!” the dwarf laughed and then slapped his hand on the table. “I like you, Wade. Deal is done. I’ll pay your price.” Hebal extended his arm across the table again to shake.
“One more thing,” I said as I looked at his hand. “I have a problem with the Thief’s Guild.”
“Which branch?” Hebal asked.
“Halfling District,” I answered.
“Hagan?” Hebal narrowed his eyes as his bushy brows knitted themselves together.
“Sire, this sounds like a poor venture for you--” Merith began.
“Quiet, Merith, or I’ll have you smashed again, and I won’t rebuild you this time,” Hebal warned. “I asked the boy with the whiskey a question.”
“Yeah,” I answered. “Hagan. He wants me dead. If he gets what he wants, then you won’t get any whiskey.”
“So, you need me to take care of him.” Hebal studied me as he clenched his jaw. The dwarf didn’t trust me, but I hadn’t trusted him either. He knew it was a gamble to go into business with me, but the community wanted alcohol, and it was his one chance to be the sole provider of it. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and I knew that fact alone would be the deciding factor in his decision.
“You said you were the leader of the Dwarven Mob,” I said, “and I’ve got plenty of whiskey to sell you. You’ll be the richest man in the city soon.”
“No deal,” the dwarf finally sighed.
“But Uncl--” Wemder gasped, but the older dwarf just raised his hand to silence him as his eyes stared into mine.
“Unless you come down on your price,” Hebal added.
“What were you thinking?” I asked as I tried to keep a straight face.
“Just a gold a barrel,” he said.
“Down from thirty?” I asked as my heart sank into my stomach.
“Yeah,” he growled. “And that’s because I’m feeling like the giving sort.”
“But you are going to be able to make fifty or more gold off each barrel that I--”
“And you are going to be dead in a few days if Hagan gets to you,” he interrupted me. “That’s the only reason you are here, human. You’re on the doorstep of death. You are desperate, and--”
“Fuck you,” I hissed as I stood up from the desk. “I’ll find someone else to--”
“No you won’t!” Hebal shouted as he slammed his palm down on the table. “You wanna be the enemy of both Hagan and the Dwarven Mob? Kid, I know you make whiskey now. How long till I find out where you make it? A few days? How about I send some of my men to your place, and then we ‘incentivise’ you to make it for us. Eh?”
“Fuck,” I sighed as I wiped my face with my hand. This wasn’t how I planned on this going, but I should have suspected it. Everyone was a fucking vulture in this city, and I should have known asking the dwarves to help me would have put me in their pocket.
I just didn’t think it would be this bad.
“Or you just make the whiskey for me, and I pay you a gold, and you live a nice little life,” Hebal continued.
“Sounds like you are proposing slavery,” I sighed as I tried to think of a way to wiggle out of this.
“You’re a human,” he laughed. “Aren’t you used to this by now? What? You thought that just because you made some whiskey you were better than us? Look, I’m making you a nice deal. A gold a barrel. That should cover whatever costs you have for the grain. And I’ll deal with Hagan for you.”
“I’ll have to think--” I started to say.
“No,” he growled. “I’m not letting you out of here unless you give me a decision. It’s either a gold a barrel, and my protection, or I’ll find where you’re hiding your operations, and then we’ll make you teach us how to do it.”
“How do I know you won’t just agree to the gold and then torture me later?” I asked, even though I knew that was eventually what was going to happen, no matter what this asshole said.
“A dwarf’s deal is written in stone,” he said as he extended his hand a third time. “Like you said, I’m gonna be making a hundred gold off each one. I can give you one percent. I’m greedy, but not that greedy.”
I stared at the dwarf’s hand and swallowed the tumbling panic in my stomach. It was dancing around in my gut like Cimarra and her sisters, but if I gave into it, I wouldn’t be able to think. I wouldn’t be able to come up with a plan. I wouldn’t be able to get out of this quagmire.
Then I realized Cimarra was my answer.
“You are having a wedding?” I asked as I turned my eyes from Hebal’s hand and looked at Wemder.
“Yeah,” the younger dwarf said as he glanced sideways at his uncle.
“There is a theatre in the Entertainment District,” I said. “They have human dancers and circus acts and--”
“I know of it,” Hebal interrupted me. “What about it?”
“You should have the wedding reception there,” I continued. “They don’t get checked by the elves ever, since no one can hear the noises from the street. I can get you the whiskey there, and then the dancers can serve it up in sexy outfits. It will be a nice experience, and a great way for
you to show the other dwarves you aren’t afraid of drinking in public.”
“Hmmm,” Hebal said as his hard eyes dug into mine.
“That sounds wonderful, Uncle,” Wemder gasped as he clapped his hands together. “It would make my wedding the talk of the city and solidify your standing as the mob--”
“Shut up,” the older dwarf growled at Wemder, and the kid’s mouth closed with a smacking sound.
“You have friends who work at this theatre?” Hebal asked me as he raised an eyebrow.
“The dancers, yeah,” I answered. “We can make it discreet, and smuggle the whiskey in easy.”
“Fine. It’s a deal.” Hebal held his hand out to me again. “It will be two weeks. On Friday. When the sun sets.”
“I’ll arrange it,” I said.
“I can send my organizer there to talk about food and such,” Wemder said. “Who do I talk to?”
“Cimarra,” I replied. “She’s the bookkeeper.”
“And how many barrels will you have ready for me?” Hebal asked as he shook the hand I still hadn’t shaken.
“I’ll have ten for sure,” I said.
“Make it twenty,” he ordered.
“And you’ll have my twenty gold?” I countered.
“Done.” He nodded.
“Done,” I agreed, and then I finally took the dwarf’s hand in my own and shook it as a plan formed in my mind.
“Good, and I will handle Hagan,” Hebal responded. “The halfling won’t bother you any longer when I’m done with him.”
“I’ll see you at the theater then,” I answered as I stood from my chair, snatched the empty bottle from the desk, and turned to face the mirror. “Thanks again, Merith. The key was better than any invisibility cloak.”
The mirror man pursed his lips as I walked over to the door, opened it, and walked out without another word.
Then I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head as I tucked the bottle into my satchel.
My agreement with Hebal was terrible, but at least it would get Hagan off my back. Unfortunately, I was just changing one horrible master for another one, but the plan fermenting in the back of my mind was good, and I knew I’d be able to get Hebal under control in just two weeks.
The grouchy old dwarf thought he could enslave me and rob me of my whiskey, but he had no idea who he was dealing with.
Chapter 15
I entered Public Square at the edge of the Entertainment District, where the Dwarves’ District, Halfling District, and Elven District all bisected in a single marketplace. It was patrolled by the elves, but it was common ground for all the races to conduct their business.
It was the perfect spot to set my foolproof plan into motion. The first part of my plan would have me arrested by one of the sorry saps who was stuck patrolling this edge of the Elven District. I wasn’t sure how the elves’ decided who would be stuck here on a given day, but I knew they hated it.
I stood in the shadows of a flower shop, and it granted me a view of the entire market. The sweetly fragrant smells enticed me to purchase the colorful shrubbery, but I refrained as I kept watch. Suddenly, I caught a whiff of Penny’s mysterious floral scent as it wafted toward me from the open doorway. I looked around me to find where the pixie had hidden herself, but Penny was nowhere to be found.
I momentarily forgot the whole reason I was there, but then I caught sight of the fish I’d waited for.
A night elf.
She was in the traditional capital garb, and her blue-white skin was covered in the turquoise and gold embellishments of the elven nobility. Her posture was straight backed, and her nose lifted at any passing creature of a different race. She was beautiful, they all were, but it was hard not to hate the too-perfect angle of her sharp face and long slender body.
She was the perfect target.
I swiftly moved through the crowd and timed my walk so I matched her pace. Then I approached her head on and bumped into her as soon as she had situated herself in front of the elven guards.
“Human filth,” the elf woman spat at me, and her outburst drew the attention of the nearby guards as I expected.
“I’m sorry, ma’am--” I started to say as I accidentally laid my hands on her perfectly pert tits.
“How dare you!” she screamed as she slapped me across the face.
I lifted her turquoise and gold wristlet from her other wrist as her leathery hand met my cheek. I made sure to choose an object off her person in plain view of the elven guards, and then I felt their strong hands close around my biceps a moment later.
“He touched my breasts!” the elf woman screeched at the guards. “Kill him! Now!”
“Hand us the wristlet, human,” the guard behind me commanded.
“What?” I asked, and the noble woman looked confused while I feigned my own shock at being caught.
“We saw you take it,” one of the guards growled.
“I didn’t steal nothin’,” I exclaimed as I writhed in their iron grip.
“Give Lady Fendove back her wristlet and apologize,” the other guard seethed in my ear.
“I told you mister,” I cried out as his grip tightened, “I didn’t do nothin’ except suffer from a case of two left feet and accidentally touching those perfect tits.”
“Uncouth monster!” she hissed.
The guard stuck his hand in my pocket and pulled out the turquoise and gold wristlet I had stolen moments before.
“I swear I dunno how that ended up in there,” I gasped as I shook my head in disbelief.
The guard handed the wristlet back to Lady Fendove, and the woman let out another gasp when she realized that I’d taken it.
“Cart this filth off to the cells and inform your captain of his insolence!” the haughty noble elf-woman huffed as she snatched her bracelet from the guard’s hand. “He deserves a good whipping.”
“Yes ma’am,” the guard answered with a nod.
He placed my hands in iron cuffs as he dragged me into the Elven District, and I colorfully protested against the treatment the entire way. The guard entered a sandstone pillared building I knew all too well, and then he threw me into a barred room that contained only a hard cot and a chamber pot.
The cells were spelled, and the tangy magic tinted the air as it entered my lungs. It was also the reason they never searched their prisoners and left them with all their belongings.
Idiots.
I’d spent many a night there before, since I’d been thrown into here when my heists for Hagan ended in my capture. It didn’t happen often, but when it did Hagan always had me freed within a few days. It wasn’t so bad in here, and I learned who Hagan had in his back pocket as I made a few friends of my own.
I targeted Public Square because one of the friends I’d made was captain of this sector of the district, and I’d known he would play perfectly into my plan.
I placed my satchel on the uncomfortable cot as I laid down and waited for the captain to come and fetch me for interrogation. The elves were perfectionists, so the space was surprisingly clean despite it being a prison cell. They liked everything to be a certain way, which is why they outlawed alcohol in the first place. The lesser peoples had begun to cause too many problems in their perfect world, so they blamed it on the mind-numbing substance and forbade us common folk from consuming it.
I napped on the cot as I waited for the captain to come and see me. It would sometimes take mere minutes, while other times I waited a few days to witness his pointy-eared presence. I hoped he wasn’t too busy and saw me before nightfall, as there was quite a bit of whiskey to be made before the week was up.
Finally, I awoke to the creak of the spelled iron door and felt a bit surprised the elves hadn’t oiled its hinges yet.
“I should have known it was you,” the elf captain began as he readjusted his fur-lined gold and turquoise cloak that laid across his broad shoulders. “Only a piece of human filth like yourself would be stupid enough to steal from an elf noblewoman and fondle her br
easts.”
The captain was a day elf, so he had fair skin that almost looked human shades of cream and a topknot of golden hair. It bobbed as he spit on the ground at the foot of my cot, and the many scars on his arms glimmered in the dim light.
There was someone listening in. I was sure of it.
“It wasn’t me sir, I-I swear it,” I responded as I held up my hands. “I stumbled into the woman, and all of a sudden a guard was pulling her wristlet from my pocket.”
“Yeah, likely story from sewer trash such as yourself,” the captain bellowed, but then he paused as he turned toward the cell door and his ears twitched. “Alright, we’re alone. Now what do you want, Wade? You know I don’t like dealing with your kind. Also, why did you have to grope Lady Fendove? She’s asking to castrate you, and--”
“Here.” I grinned as I tossed my satchel at him. “Take the bottle out and sniff it. What does it smell like to you?”
The captain took the bottle, uncorked it, then took a long whiff of the missing contents.
“Where did you get this?” he demanded as he held the bottle up.
“I’ll give you information if you let me out of here in one piece.” I smirked at him as I sat back on my elbows.
“You know I’ll deal with you,” the captain scoffed. “Spit it out.”
“The dwarves are selling it, and Hagan sent me to steal it from them,” I told the elf. “Little did he know the bastards had already drank the lot of it.”
“So what?” the captain questioned me. “One of my street urchins could have told me that, so what makes your information special?”
I grinned. “What if I told you I know where you can bust the entire Dwarf Mafia for possession?”
His silver-lined eyes widened when I professed my information.
“If you tell me, what do you get out of it?” the elf asked.
“They are after me for trying to steal their alcohol for the Thief’s Guild,” I answered. “If you arrest them, then it stops the mafia from killing me. It also gives you one of the juiciest cases in the realm, and it might be enough to get you a promotion out of this sector.”
The captain paced the edge of the room as he considered my proposition.