This time the group pulled into a huddle, shooting glances back towards Chase... and beyond her. She looked over to find that her friends had moved up while she was talking, taking their time about it.
“Good work,” Dijornos said as he drew level with her. “Figure we can charge them from here, they’ll probably run and leave our panda behind.”
“No,” Chase said and grinned widely. “This is an opportunity.”
“What do you have in mind?” Bastien asked.
“Nothing much,” Chase said, smiling as the group ahead came to a consensus, and started putting away their weapons. “They need help, and we need friends in the city. I figure we can come to a good arrangement.”
After a bit more discussion, the grocer nodded and took Yubai’s shoulder, leading him over to the group.
“That’s my cue,” Dijornos said, and moved up to meet them, taking the panda man, and leading him back to Chase.
DIJORNOS HAS FULFILLED YOU SAVE YUBAI
100 EXPERIENCE GRANTED!
REWARD OWED: 1 SILVER
There was a small tug, a feeling of disorientation that passed within a second. The experience is leaving me, Chase knew. But it was a small amount, she thought, and it was over quickly. “Er, thank you for this,” Chase said, and pulled out her purse.
“Nope,” Dijornos said, folding his arms. “Not taking your money.”
“Why not?” Chase asked. Something about his smile disturbed her.
Oh, there were teeth in that grin. “Because now I’ve got you right where I want you.”
CHAPTER 8: PRISONER’S DILEMMA
Chase stared at Dijornos.
“You didn’t pay me for this quest. So long as that’s true, I can curse you at my leisure. It’s a Mercenary thing.”
Chase stared relentlessly at Dijornos.
His grin slipped a bit. “I’m not gonna unless you screw me over. Think of this as insurance.”
Chase kept staring at Dijornos.
“So. don’t you push me, or I will! Boom! Right in the luck! See how all your fortune and stuff works then!” His grin was down to a shadow of its former size.
Chase shook her head.
“What? Did I... come on, you think I’d just let you boss me around like that?” Now he was scowling. “You should have seen this coming.”
“You think I didn’t?” Chase smiled.
And that made worry flare behind his eyes.
She patted his knee, and turned back to the worried group of would-be executioners. “Business first. We’ll talk afterwards.”
His frustration felt almost palpable behind her; the roiling heat and confusion coming from the large human made her stomach churn and her throat clench up. But she forced her face into an impassive mask and moved up to meet the vigilantes.
It wasn’t until she heard Dijornos snort in disgust and stomp away that her fear eased. She let herself smile, and stuck out a hand to the grocer as he drew near. “My name’s Chase. What’s yours?”
His name, as it turned out, was Signore Gonzolo Massini. He and his friends and their families were most of the citizens of Gnome who remained around the Piazza Due Stivali.
When the dragon came, they had fought the fires with all their might. Then when they had finally managed to get them under control, they’d turned around to see that most of their neighbors had fled, and they had looted the heck out of the place to boot.
“Took our money, took most of our food, took everything they could carry,” Signora Sassiona said, sitting on a nearby bench and readjusting her boots. “Even if we wanted to run off to follow them we couldn’t. Without money where would we go? Without food how would we get there? My nana’s sick; we can’t move her none so we’re not going nowhere anyhow.”
It took Chase a few seconds to parse what Signora Sassiona had just said. She got the feeling that the woman’s jobs didn’t boost intelligence much.
“We’ve been trying to survive until someone takes charge.” Signore Massini raised his hands. “At this point I don’t care who. Maybe the Duke is alive, maybe his son turns up, maybe one of the popes actually steps up and does something useful—”
“Gonzolo!” Sassiona gasped, her eyes wide.
“This is what they’re supposed to be for! Praying dragons away! Well they had five chances, and still we got dragons!”
“Five chances?” Chase asked.
“Five popes.”
“I thought there were six?”
“Pope Correttezza of Nurph passed away just this August,” he kissed his hand and lifted it up, a gesture Chase had seen among southerners when speaking of the dead. “The Nurphites are still figuring out who should replace her. Were still figuring out. I think their cathedral got burned. That’s what the last group through here said, anyhow.”
“People have been coming through?” Speranza asked.
“Yeah.” The vigilantes looked over at the gallows.
“Oh,” was all Chase had to say.
“A lot of people look like they’re in the same boat,” Signore Massini sighed. “But enough of them have been looking to steal or worse. And yesterday someone got us. Don’t know if it was one of the groups that came through earlier or somebody from outside. We had cached the last of our food, you see. About a week’s worth for everyone if we were careful and stretched it out. Then this morning we woke up to find the guards we had on it gone, and the cache empty. And then your friend turns up...”
“We weren’t thinking straight,” Signora Sassiona sighed. “We’re sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Chase said, “there was no harm done. Well, a bunch of plants got dirty.”
“It’s okay!” Renny said, toddling up with an armload of greens. “I wiped most of them off. I think most of them were stuff he picked from the roadside as we passed. I’m still not sure where he got the bamboo from, though.”
“Most of that stuff isn’t even edible,” the grocer shook his head. “It’s mostly useful herbs. Maybe even a few things that could be reagents with proper treatment.”
“No kidding?” Dijornos asked.
Chase spared him a glance. He had gotten over his temper, it looked like. She still felt an urge to back up and flee but pushed it away. She was getting an idea of how to handle him, now.
“Yes,” Signore Massini gave Dijornos a measuring look. “We’d have to get Dolce’s mother to look them over, but she could maybe do something with them. But we can’t eat them so it’s a moot point.”
“Reagents?” Chase frowned. “What are those?”
“Reagents are magical bits that Enchanters can use to create magical items. There are also crystals that can be used for things like that,” Cagna clarified. “Dolce’s mother is an Enchanter?”
“Yeah,” Massini said. “If it were normal times and we had money she might buy them off you, but right now food’s the problem. We don’t find some fast, we’ll have to leave and take our chances.”
“Okay. Well...” Chase glanced over at Cagna. “How much food do we have again?”
“I see where you’re going with this...” The dog-woman grimaced. “Are you sure?”
“We have several weeks’ worth. We’re only going to be in town a week, one way or another.” Chase turned back to the vigilantes. “About how many people do you have, all told?”
“About sixty,” Massini said. Something glowed in his eyes, and Chase knew what it was, looked away quickly. Hope was a terrible thing, but hope denied was even worse.
“Hnnn... we could give them maybe two days worth. If we liquidated everything but the bare minimum for us. None of us would eat well, and we’d go to bed hungry, but we’d survive. How’s your water situation?”
“The main pipes are choked with ash. It got into the viaducts” Massini said, the hope in his voice now. “But we have a couple of covered wells that are getting us by.”
“Then let’s trade food for water. I didn’t check our well when I took stock of the food, and looking at the streets
now I realize I should have.” Cagna said.
“Actually, you know what?” Chase said, the pieces starting to fall into place in her mind, “Let’s move in here. You have some empty house or space we can use?”
“Of course,” Massini said. “You want us to come and help you move?”
“Let me talk it over with my group,” Chase said. “Make sure everyone’s okay with it, you know?”
“Sure, sure. We’ll just uh, just be over there,” Massini said, pointing at a bank of empty market stalls.
“Okay,” Renny said, as Chase pulled the others into a huddle. “I’m confused. Why do you want to move?”
“Now that I have their measure I think they’d make good allies,” Chase said. “They’re good people who are trying to survive bad times. A little help there will get us friends who know the city.”
“Also access to an Enchanter,” Dijornos pointed out. “My gear is trashed. I need something to replace it if we’re gonna take on a dragon.”
“If,” Speranza said. “That’s still yet to be decided.”
“What do you think?” Chase studied the Siren.
“I support it. As often as I’ve been starved, I can live with less food if it means having some friends between us and the rest of the city. Especially if there are roving thieves and rapists going around.”
She speaks the old tongue, Chase noted to herself. No other way she could have translated that sign. “Those are my thoughts. It’s also another layer between us and the Inquisition. We rented that house under a false name, but we had to meet the owner to do so. If they track our first foray into Gnome, then it’s best to be somewhere else.”
“We had probably better keep moving regardless,” Bastien said. “I don’t want to draw the Inquisition down on these people. They’re a good lot, from what I’ve seen. This isn’t their fight.”
“It isn’t, but...” Chase looked up to the sky, and the flakes of ash still falling. The sharp, sweet smell of smoke that grew harsh after a few unprotected breaths, the unending gray that blocked out the sun. “The dragon gave us a few days to work this out. If we’re gone in a few nights then it shouldn’t matter.”
“We should help them anyway,” Renny said. “And it’s a good place to start our investigations. They probably know people or places that we can visit.”
“If they’re still there and not ashes,” Dijornos shrugged. “But hey, why not? Got starved for two solid weeks and didn’t die, I can handle short rations.”
His eyes kept flicking toward Chase, then away.
“Can I talk to you in private for a second?” Chase asked, pointing toward the edge of the square.
The big man took a breath, coughed a bit. “Sure,” he said, jamming his hands into the pockets of his robe.
“Are you going to be alright?” Chase asked him, once they were clear of the others.
“What? I... don’t—” he stopped, took a few breaths. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’ve been acting jittery ever since you cursed me. Why?”
Dijornos flushed. “Look, it’s just insurance. And I didn’t curse you, I just could if I wanted to.”
“Okay. That’s fine.”
“Don’t take it personally, I just... what do you mean ‘it’s fine?’ I played you!” he roared.
“No, no, I understand it. I DO.” She held out an open hand to him.
He took a step backward as if she’d struck him. “Don’t touch me!” he barked.
Behind her, Chase heard shifting. “No, it’s fine, we’ve got this!” she called back over her shoulder. Then she took a step forward. “You want control. You haven’t had it in a very long time. This gives you control over me, more or less. Yes?”
“It’s just insurance. That’s all.”
“And I’m fine with that. If this is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it. You’ve GOT control.”
“Then why don’t I feel like it?” he burst out, then stopped, mouth open. “I don’t. Cheese us.”
“You will. You went through hell. I understand.” Chase took another step forward, weighed her risks, and took his hand. “She had no right to hurt you so. They had no right to lock you away for so long. If it had been for what you’d done, that would have been different. But they did it because of what you were. And that’s just not right.”
Dijornos yanked his hand back, with such force that Chase almost lost fingers. “Shut up,” he hissed. “Just... shut up.”
He turned away, looking into the soot, staring at the gray stone through a curtain of ash. “I need to think,” he said, voice wobbling.
“Take your time.” Chase said. “Take all the time you need.”
There was no reply. But as she started walking back to the others, the words that flashed across her vision made her smile in relief.
CHA+1
“Everything all right?” asked Cagna. Her hand was under her cloak, and Chase knew it rested on her pistol.
“It’s fine. He’s had a rough day. Shall we go get our things and start moving over?”
Nobody objected, so they headed back. About half the vigilante committee went with them, and after a minute, Dijornos followed. He didn’t say anything, and he hung back a good thirty feet or so, but he followed.
It wasn’t until the boxes were packed up and loaded into the wagon, and Bastien was bringing Dobbin out from the stables that the former warlord finally spoke.
“That thing I said I’d do. I’ll do it. I’ll go hunt for Thomasi. Alone.”
“Are you sure?” Chase looked over to Bastien. “You should at least take some backup. You have to sleep sometime.”
“I’m sure.” His lips twisted and writhed over his teeth. “Also, you can pay me now.”
“What?”
“For the quest. Pay me.” He held out his hand.
“You’re just giving up your hold over me? Just like that?” Chase frowned. “Why?”
“It was a lousy thing to do. I mean...” He rubbed the back of his head. “I did it before and it worked great, but you’re not...” he swore then, violently and vehemently at nothing. “Just pay me,” he said, after he’d finished his rant. “And we’ll be square.”
Chase fished out a silver coin and handed it over.
QUEST OBLIGATION FOR: YOU SAVE YUBAI - REPAID!
“You know where we’ll be, more or less,” Chase said, gesturing toward their new friends, who were gleefully loading boxes of food onto the wagons. “If you ever need anything, or find Thomasi before us, come back. Okay?”
“Yeah. Whatever,” Dijornos said, staring at his hands. “Bye,” he said and left, flipping his cloak back as he headed out into the ash.
Monkeys chattered as Bastien shifted their barrel, placing it up on the wagon. But his eyes were narrowed behind his spectacles as he watched Dijornos go. “You sure that was wise?” he finally said.
“I think so,” Chase said. “I hope so.”
“We’re going to have to change our plans already,” Renny said.
“A little bit.”
“And then there were two,” Speranza said, walking back from the house, leading the vigilantes. Somehow she’d gotten them to tote her share of the baggage, Chase noted with a wry smile.
“Two...” Chase said, glancing from her to Yubai, who was busy weaving straw into some kind of circular thing. A plate or a bowl? Maybe. It was fascinating, in a way. She’d never seen someone spend so much time crafting something the old-fashioned way before. “Ah. Two players. That’s what you mean.”
Speranza spread his hands. “I’ll stick to the plan. I have no intention of running out on you.”
“Thank you. I mean it.” Chase smiled.
“Oh my, this is beautiful! Why are you hiding it?” Signora Sassiona said, pulling a swathe of red and blue and gold fabric from under the plain brown cloth of the covered wagon.
“It’s a long story,” Chase said, putting it back into place and tugging the covers to hide it again. “And it has to
do with why we’re in town. So let’s get back to our new lodgings and I’ll bring you up to speed on the parts that are safe for you to know...”
CHAPTER 9: GNOME MAN’S LAND
Gnome wasn’t built in a day.
Gnome had never stopped being built, when you looked at the spread of its history. From the earliest settlers who were raised by wolves or something like that, to the tribe of tiny, clever people who conquered it with their coal-burning war machines, to the endless diaspora of immigrants and slaves that had flooded in when the empire really got going, each and every one of its dwellers had contributed something to the city.
Sometimes more than they planned to. More than one foundation in the Wholly Gnoman Empire’s crown city-state covered bones, nothing but fields of bones of those who had given all for her glory.
Mind you, that had been quite a few centuries ago. And the following generations hadn’t always taken care of her infrastructure as well as they could have. Including the infrastructure of the apartment the vigilantes had rented to Chase.
Which was why Signore Massini apologized, as the clock on the wall of the living room chimed one, and promptly spat out a shower of gears and grime. “Sorry, sorry! We don’t have any way to turn those off.”
“It’s no problem,” Chase said, removing her headscarf and staring at the oily crud all over it. “I think I got it off before the oil soaked through.” Throughout the rest of the insula she could hear other clocks chiming. Most of them sounded decidedly unhealthy, and at one point there was a puff of steam visible past the single high window that looked out onto the ashen sky.
“Here. You have to rub it with sand,” Signora Massini said, pulling out a jar of the stuff. “Otherwise it stains pretty bad.”
“You don’t say...” Chase studied the wall across from the clock, and the black smear that ran from it down to the floor. It shone like hardened tar, with the occasional tiny cog sticking out. “You’d have thought this clock would run out of gears at some point.”
“They do. This one’s broken any number of times. Sometimes we go weeks without having to mop oil off things,” Signora Massini said, stuffing Chase’s scarf into the jar.
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