Well Done

by Andrew Seiple

  “If the dragon is a world destroyer, is anywhere really safe?” Speranza asked.

  Chase took a breath, took another. “No. No, not really.” But she kept pacing. “I remember that dragon card that came up in the initial fortune. It says it’s our choice whether or not to fight it. But if it’s going to destroy the world, what choice is that, really? It doesn’t add up.”

  “Well what do the cards say now?” Speranza said, and moved to look over the chair. “It’s still doing that mixed deck thing?”

  The six of diamonds sat in the center. “I don’t know what this means,” Chase said, and looked to the card crossing it. The queen of rogues sat cheekily, lifting her newly-gained crown onto her head and resting her feet on a dead, brutish-looking man as she settled into her throne. His lips were covered in froth, and a vial of poison sat on one armrest. But the card was upside down, and Speranza frowned to see it. “That signifies a conflict of interests. What’s the one above it?”

  “The knight of wizards. Reversed. Delays, frustration, hasty scrambling, that sort of thing. Which makes sense, because we’re trying to get Thomasi and get out before things go entirely nuts. But...” Chase sighed and pointed to the five of hearts again. “Our best ally is still THIS. I don’t know THIS. I don’t know what it means.”

  “Then comes the choice and the enemy, right?” Speranza asked.

  “That’s the order, yes. The choice...” Chase tapped a card indicating a horned, busty red-skinned creature, obviously female, licking bloody fingers and lying in a bed. It was a provocative pose, would have probably been a bit more steamy if she hadn’t been surrounded by withered bodies. “The Succubus. We’re going to be tempted, or tested, or something like that. Maybe by our enemy...” she frowned at the last card.

  A young mage formed a ball of fire between his hands, amazed at his accomplishments. The page of wizards, a card indicating discovery, new skills, and leveling. But it was reversed.

  “Our enemy is a newly-formed idea? A new spiritual path?” Speranza rubbed her chin. “Wait. The dragon cult.”

  “I’m not sure they’re a cult. I don’t know if they’re worshiping the dragon. We thought they might be a scam, but... they’re too prepared. And the dragon definitely spared their compound, so I believe their story about working for him. That said, the cards do seem to indicate that they’re the enemy here. Which ties back into the dragon card in the initial reading, back before we got into the city.” Chase flopped back onto the couch. “We’re going to have to decide whether to work with them or against them.”

  “It comes down to what they need the crystals for,” Bastien rumbled, and Chase and Speranza and Renny looked up to see him leaning in the doorway. He was robed again and busy working liniment into one bare shoulder.

  “Let me get that for you,” Speranza offered.

  He hesitated, then nodded. She moved behind him as he sat on the floor, started rubbing out the muscles along his collarbone.

  “Basically, we need to know more about ’em, before we make any sort of choice like that. And for that we need Cagna.”

  “Maybe,” Speranza offered. “Or maybe my new friends could start making inquiries.”

  “Oh yeah...” Chase said, brightening up. “New friends? The visit went well?”

  “They’re sleazy,” Renny said. “They make those underworld guys back in Arretzi look like saints.”

  “They’re not that bad,” Speranza said, pausing in her rubdown. “Well, some of them are. You’ve got a loose bunch of war profiteers who say they’re working for the absent Pope Fairness. Whether they are or not I couldn’t say, but as long as you’re not professing loyalty to one of his rivals and can pay, then they’re happy to trade. I wouldn’t want to live over there, but they’re useful and I can confirm that their connections are wide enough to provide a number of useful services. For a fee, of course.”

  “Okay, but have they seen Thomasi?” Chase asked.

  “No. Did your bunch over to the west see any sign of him?”

  “I asked while I was drinking after the bouts,” Bastien offered. “Nobody knew anything.”

  “I didn’t come out and ask Corinthia, but I’m pretty sure she hadn’t,” Chase said. “If she’d run into Thomasi I guarantee you he’d have tried to help her.”

  “He is that sort, always a sucker for a lady in trouble,” Speranza sighed. “I told him Tabita was beyond saving.”

  “Ah,” Chase said. Tabita had turned herself into a cannibalistic werewolf for reasons that were pretty much crazy when you squinted at them too long. Chase still woke up with nightmares about Tabita and how that dark little adventure had worked out. “Well, she’s gone now, so that’s just the past. But I think it’s safe to say he’s probably not in either of the places we checked. Or if he is he’s very well hidden.” Chase sighed. “If we turn up nothing else I’ll go back west and see about enlisting Corinthia’s help. Maybe she can query the dead, see if the ghosts of the city have noticed anything.”

  “You could do the same,” Bastien offered, his voice slow and drowsy. Chase shot a look over, to find him sagging, slumped, chin almost on his chest. He has had a long day, she thought. Probably exhausted, hours of wrestling will do that sort of thing.

  “I can use a séance, true, but a séance requires a specific spirit. I’m pretty sure a necromancer can talk to every spirit around,” Chase shrugged. “But it’s moot. My instincts are telling me we need to find Cagna. We need an actual detective to do actual detective work. And...” she bit her lip. “And I think we need to go find her. Find them, rather. Because something’s gone wrong. She and Yubai should be back by now. But they’re not.”

  “She could be delayed, that’s all,” Speranza suggested. “Can you use the crystal ball?”

  “I already used it today to try to scry on my sister. It failed... I think the dragon-people’s compound is warded.”

  “Oh dear,” Speranza rubbed her chin. “Do the cards say anything?”

  “Nothing cohesive. I think they’re locked into the bigger problem.” Chase sighed. “That’s the thing with omens and portents. I’m sure Hoon is using them to send me messages, but I can’t try to beg for more messages. He needs me looking at the big picture, and I need to figure out the details. No, no, I think we’re going to have to go after Cagna. I think...” she bit her lip. “I think we’ve been careful enough that we can go down there without jeopardizing ourselves or the mission.”

  “Cagna thought that too, and her fate is uncertain,” Speranza pointed out. “And if you want to go south, then we’ve got a problem.”

  “Yeah those guys working for the Knight barricaded the bridges,” Renny interrupted. “Nobody gets through unless they’ve got permission.”

  “Maybe Cagna tried to get through and got caught?” Chase said. “What’s that Knight’s name again?”

  “Sir Barriano,” Speranza said. “He was actively recruiting up until yesterday. According to my friends, he got concerned about the possibility of people working for the dragon and closed the bridges to keep spies and saboteurs out.”

  “Which makes sense, because hey, now we’ve got those green dragon cult people poking around,” Chase mused. “He probably had scouts out watching the north, and saw them moving in or moving around. Bad timing for our purposes, though.”

  “Then let me be the bearer of good tidings,” Speranza offered. “My new friends have been setting up smuggling shipments. He barricaded the bridges, but there’s still a lot of river to cover. For a small fee, we could easily cross over with tonight’s shipments.”

  “There’s an illicit trade going on that quickly?” Chase’s eyebrows rose.

  “These people are professionals,” Speranza offered. “I’m pretty sure they were expecting something like this. Human nature and all that.”

  “And all that,” Chase said. “If he does kill the dragon, he’s probably going to have a pretty good claim on the Duke’s old throne. Assuming it stays empty.”

&nb
sp; “City-states have changed hands for less,” Speranza confirmed, lifting her hands and looking down at Bastien. His head was all the way down on his chest now, a chest that rose and fell with the simple rhythm of sleep. “We might want to leave him here, though. He’s not very stealthy, and it looks like he’s had a hard day.”

  “Agreed. I’ll write him a note, and we can be on our way,” Chase decided.

  “What, now?” Speranza frowned. Then her face cleared. “It does have to be now, doesn’t it? We’re on a time limit.”

  “Three days before the dragon cult does whatever they’re planning,” Chase agreed. “And that’ll probably include attacking this piazza, unless Signore Gonzolo caves in to their demands.”

  “I don’t think he will,” Renny said. “Well, no help for it. Let’s go for a boat ride!”

  Three hours later, well past midnight and with sleep tugging at her eyes, Chase stepped into a small skiff and settled in as the masked and robed man directed her. Speranza sat behind her, and Renny was comfortably settled around Chase’s neck under her poncho.

  It would have been peaceful, save for a steady rain that was falling out of the sky. It ripped at the ashen sky, brought it to the ground in gray, sludgy streaks, and left disappearing divots on the river.

  “We’ll have to move fast,” the Smuggler said, casting a gaze towards the far bank. Fires glowed along it, distorted by the rain and the slowly-diminishing ash. “This changes our safety margin. Do you understand the rules?”

  “Sit down, shut up, do as you say, don’t ask questions, and let you do the talking if it comes to it,” Chase repeated. The shady people that Speranza had dragged her to see had been very clear on those points, making her repeat them a dozen time before they were satisfied.

  “Good,” the Smuggler said, and pushed off from the tiny dock. “Row Row Row Your Boat, Current Events, Oar Didn’t Hear That.”

  Chase opened her mouth to ask about those skills, then shut it again. It wouldn’t do to so cavalierly break that rule about questions. The little skiff went into the darkness, steering away from the glow of watchfires.

  And there they hit difficulties.

  She’d thought that the watchfires were at a few points, but no, they were all along the bank. The Smuggler went east, searching for a good point to land and cursing under his breath every time they’d round a bend, just to see the silhouettes of armored men moving in front of firelight.

  Finally, he shook his head. “No good. We’ll have to try the west. If we don’t get anything there we can try again tomorrow.”

  Chase turned around and looked up at Speranza. Speranza looked back at her and tapped her harp. Then she drew a knife out of one sleeve, and tucked it back.

  Chase shook her head and drew out a pouch. “There’s ten gold in it for you if we land tonight,” she whispered, turning back to the Smuggler.

  “Ten gold? Heh. This cargo’s worth plenty more...”

  Chase opened her mouth to haggle, then paused. The tone in his voice... “Yes, but how much of that will you see? I imagine your boss doesn’t pay you as well as he could.”

  “Well... no,” the Smuggler said, grudgingly.

  WILL+1

  “Ten gold. And we can cause a distraction if need be, when we land. You’ll get away clean.”

  “Pay me now,” he countered. “I’ll try. If we don’t you’ll get it back when we hit the northern bank. I’ll try, but I won’t get caught for your sake.”

  That sounded a bit more honest. She handed it up to him, ignoring Speranza’s snort.

  The rest of the journey went faster. The Smuggler had already ruled out the landing spots they’d passed. The rain picked up and beat harder, greasy and smoky against Chase’s mask, soaking the bitter taste into the cloth. Then stone loomed out of the distance. “Stay down, and no talk,” the Smuggler said. “We’re going to have to pass under the bridge.”

  Jingling as they approached, and Chase saw to her horror that the Knight’s men had planned for just such a thing. Chains stretched down from above, twisting in the wind and rain.

  But they were moving anyway, and Chase thought that unless they got unlucky, they might be able to slide through. Maybe.

  The Smuggler hunched down as well, tucked the pole in close to his body, and started easing them through.

  Voices rose, shouting alarms up on the bridge above and everyone on the little skiff froze. How could we be discovered so easily? Chase shook, feeling her ears twist under her scarf as booted feet pounded on the stone above.

  But the feet passed them, and she exchanged uncomprehending glances with the Smuggler and Speranza. Chains jingled as they brushed them, but the sound was lost in the screaming and shouting from on high.

  And then she heard it. And she understood.

  Leather cracking against air, impossibly loud. Rhythmically, from high above.

  Vast wings, beating against the sky, keeping something huge aloft by sheer force.

  Horrified, Chase turned back the way they’d come to see a sheet of water sluice out of the sky and blast into the water, sending spray upwards, droplets flaring orange in the reflected firelight. For a second she thought the dragon had dived, but dismissed it. The river was shallow, too shallow...

  Then the water settled and burst again, closer this time, and she realized what was happening.

  The force of its wings is slapping air down onto the river. It’s following the river. Why is it following the river?

  And then there was fire, fire as the dragon flamed the bridge and steam roiled and broiled up around the skiff as Chase screamed in pain.

  CHAPTER 14: OUT OF THE FRYING PAN

  The Sovereign bridge, like most of Gnome, had been erected in ancient times and maintained with the utmost care ever since. Even the most disdainful goths and steampunks knew better than to vandalize it, and the most corrupt politicians and would-be imperators were smart enough to see its importance.

  Maybe not always sane, but usually smart enough to see that it was one of the main arteries of the city, a corridor of trade and easily-taxed passage that fattened the coffers of whomever was in charge of the time.

  The dragon, however, didn’t care.

  The old bridge burned, and only its thickness and superior construction saved Chase from being roasted alive.

  As it was, though, she was being steamed like a dumpling and that wasn’t much better.

  You take 6 points of steam damage!

  You take 6 points of steam damage!

  You take 6 points of steam damage!

  She screamed as the water boiled around her, and white vapor filled the air, trying to boil her eyes until she screwed them shut and covered her face with both hands. Even with her eyes shut the words flared into existence, pulsing every few seconds.

  You take 6 points of steam damage!

  You take 6 points of steam damage!

  You take 6 points of steam damage!

  The damp mask against her face grew warm, then hot, and she scrabbled to claw it free....

  ...no. No.

  If she did that there would be nothing between the hot steam and her lungs. It would scorch her throat and kill her from the inside out.

  “Chase! Oh no!” Renny shouted, then poked her side with his paws as he wriggled free. “What’s happening...” he looked out into the steam. “I’ve got this! Heal yourself, please!” He took a breath, and a red ‘14’ drifted up over his head. “Manipulate Air!” he shouted and whipped his paws around in circular motions.

  Under the bridge, the steam rolled away as fast as it could go.

  But the heat was still there, and the water still bubbled and roiled below.

  You take 3 points of steam damage!

  You take 3 points of steam damage!

  You take 3 points of steam damage!

  CON+1

  “Lesser Healing,” Chase croaked, ripping the mask off her face, unable to stand it anymore. The heat tore into her, but the healing soothed it away... and t
hen some.

  You have healed yourself for 43 points of damage!

  Your Lesser Healing skill is now level 46!

  She repeated it again, then looked left and right. The Smuggler was doubled over and gasping, and Speranza was choking, struggling to unlimber her guitar with puffy, scalded fingers.

  Beyond them, on the bank, fires from the collateral of the dragon’s breath burned all up and down the shore. Men and women screamed, buckets of water flew, but it was chaos and inferno.

  Plip.

  Sizzle.

  It was loud even in the din, and Chase stared as glowing red drops trickled down from above to drop in the water under the bridge.

  The nails, she realized. Spikes or nails or whatever was used to hold the stone slabs of the bridge together. They were melting and dropping molten into the river.

  How do you even fight something like this? Chase wondered, bleakly. What sane person goes and looks at this and thinks ‘oh hey, dragons, jolly good fun to go beat them up!’

  This wasn’t something you fought.

  It was something you survived.

  Then, as a great groan echoed from above, and she saw one of the piles supporting the bridge shift a bit, as molten metal oozed from its joins.

  We might not survive this, she realized.

  All this took the space in a matter of seconds. “We need to get to shore!” she shouted, thumping the Smuggler’s back. “Lesser Healing, Lesser Healing!”

  Ignoring the messages and skill up notifications popping into her view, she sent a few at Speranza as well.

  “Foresi-” Chase started to mutter, but cut it off abruptly. She still had hours to go, she remembered.

  You take 3 points of steam damage!

  It was coming slower, but another groan from above showed that she had other worries. “To shore! Get us to shore!” she screamed, and the Smuggler gasped, picked up the pole, and started pushing.

  From behind her, she heard fingers strum strings. “Rejuvenating Song,” the Bard gasped, and the melody surged into something cheerful and heartening.