“None of that, now,” Thomasi advised her, looking around.
The noise in the street had disappeared.
All of a sudden the tension felt a bit tighter. The air seemed heavy, harder to breathe.
Someone in one of the dark alleys coughed.
Thomasi slapped his forehead under the cowl. “Ah! Right! Sorry. Look, daughter, what glorious architecture!” He turned his back to the groaning man, and nudged Chase.
She glared at him, then back to the corpse, then back up to Thomasi again. “What?”
“Turn around,” he said, barely moving his lips. “They don’t want witnesses.”
Her confusion no less for the explanation, Chase turned around, and stared back down the way they’d come.
It was a fairly odd sight when you got down to it, especially to someone who had spent all her life growing up in a tiny rural village. The outskirts of Arretzi sprawled beyond its walls, ramshackle buildings and streets that curved and dead-ended and got you lost with casual contempt. Lines of washing and mud and the smell of filth, and wild-looking dogs growling at passerby.
And what passers-by! She’d seen more people in the last few minutes than she had in her entire lifetime! Most of them human, but a few halven, and even one or two figures with what had to be elven features. Mostly women, those. Mostly not-very-well-dressed, those. They had skirts that showed their ankles, and Chase’s upbringing warred against her admiration. Much easier to move around in, she reckoned.
But as they’d traveled, the people got meaner-looking, more poorly dressed, and dirtier. And the architecture changed to match. What got Chase was that it hadn’t taken all that long, just perhaps five minutes, and the neighborhood had a completely different feel than the sturdy, functional shops and homes lining the way to the city’s main gate.
“Thanks, squire,” someone muttered from very, very close behind them, and Chase was grateful for her cool, as she refrained from jumping and screaming.
“It is nothing,” Thomasi replied. Then after a few seconds more, he tapped Chase on the shoulder and turned back around.
The halven girl felt her ears twitch under the headscarf as she stared at the now-still man on the lone patch of cobblestones, wearing nothing but a pair of heart-spotted boxer shorts. “Is he, is he dead?” she whispered.
“Mm? No. They’ll have left him alive. No point in bringing trouble.” Thomasi ambled toward the door of the tavern.
“We were only looking away for seconds,” Chase said, staring around at the alley mouths. “I didn’t hear a thing!”
“Well they’re good at their job. Always nice to see professionals at work, hm?”
“I didn’t see a thing.”
“Good, you’re getting it!” Thomasi ruffled her head, and she glared at him. Then he stopped by one of the windows and looked over to the murky glass. “Hm.”
“Can you see anything through that?”
“Of course not. But it’s been what, about thirty seconds, all told, since that fellow hit the pavement? And it’s roughly noon, give or take?”
“Um…” She looked up to the sky. It was a little hard to find the sun, the buildings around here were tall and crooked. Much like this neighborhood’s inhabitants, really. “Yes. Near noon, or a little past.”
Thomasi nodded and started counting out loud. “Thirty… twenty-nine… twenty-eight…”
At twenty-two the door thumped open again, and a dwarf came sailing out. Chase glanced back, winced as he bounced off the already prone human occupying the cobblestones, and thwacked against a nearby wall on the rebound.
Come to think of it, that wall had some brown stains on it, too…
Without missing a beat Thomasi marched in, and Chase scrambled to keep up with him. The very large and very surprised man who’d just ejected the dwarf stepped back, and everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to stare at the new arrivals.
None of them looked friendly. Most of them looked like they were missing parts. Even the women looked like they had their body weight in knives stashed away somewhere.
And about half of them were wearing cloaks and cowls… nastier than Thomasi’s, but still in a similar style. After Thomasi spent a second looking around, the strange eyes shifted away from the unlikely pair, and the room of scum and villainy returned to their drinking, gambling, and muttering.
Chase tried to peer into every corner, and found that the room was oddly shaped, and pretty much mostly corners. Every table had been pushed into one, and everyone was seated facing the door, even though there was plenty of more space available.
Far out of her depth, Chase followed Thomasi like she was tied to him with a string, trying to avoid thinking about how her bare feet were sticking to the floor every now and then. Shoes. I see now why humans wear shoes so often. Maybe I can get a pair. Maybe they won’t be so bad?
Thomasi stopped at the bar, and Chase pushed past a forest of legs from nearby standing patrons. Once she had a clear view, she peered up at the ugly man who wore an eyepatch with a copper coin set into it.
The man’s eye was locked on Thomasi, who stared back and smiled. “Greetings, signore. My daughter and I require a private room to dine in. The finest you have!”
There was a pause.
The bartender roared laughter.
The men standing at the bar to either side roared laughter.
The rest of the room followed suit, until she and Thomasi were the only ones who weren’t braying their amusement and spittle into their neighbors’ faces. Chase felt sweat gather under her headscarf, and dearly wished she could take it off, just for a bit. But no, they were in a dangerous spot now, and she didn’t want to make a mistake. Didn’t want to jog Thomasi’s elbow, when he was working. Because that’s what he’s doing, she knew. He’s playing a role, deliberately being out of place. Why? What’s he trying to achieve, here? This is a deception of some sort. He knows what he’s doing. I’m certain of it.
“I think you should leave,” the bartender said, and the laughter died away, all save for one guy still snorting in an otherwise quiet corner. The large man at the door sighed and started ambling over.
“Well, if you don’t want my money, all right. I suppose I can wait for our master elsewhere. A pity, your food comes recommended.”
The bartender held up a hand. “It is very fine cuisine. And I do have a room with a view upstairs. But they are, hm… not for everyone who comes in off the street, you understand.” The ugly man he was eyeing Thomasi as he said this. The mention of a Master made him cautious, Chase realized. That brought an outside force into the situation. Casual ejection and robbery now risked consequences.
Thomasi reached under his cloak, and the bouncer hurried forward. To either side, Chase was suddenly aware of the standing patrons at the bar parting like waves, and so, so many hands gripping hilts of knives…
Metal flashed in Thomasi’s hand, and those knives started to slide free of sheaths—
—only to relax as the disguised Ringmaster put a silver coin on the table. “For the food and drink.”
Knives disappeared. But now Chase saw a brighter sharpness in the onlooking eyes. A calculating one that said that knives weren’t entirely out of the equation.
Thomasi reached back into his cloak, and metal flashed again. “And this for the room’s rental.”
Yellow, this time.
Gold.
We’re dead! Chase thought, sweat soaking into her headband, and fought to keep her face still. But an odd thing happened, as she started glancing around the room, trying to find a clear path to the door.
Most of the patrons had returned to their business.
In fact, scanning the room, she saw that most of them pointedly had their backs to the strange duo. A few were even sweating, and that made her feel better. We’re fear buddies! She stifled a giggle at the incongruous thought. But she did feel better.
“I see,” the bartender said, swiping a rag across the counter. The coins disapp
eared into the cloth. “Antonio, mind the bar. I will show our lunch guests to their dining room. This way, please.” He shuffled out from behind the bar and motioned to what Chase had taken for another corner, but was upon closer inspection a cramped, narrow staircase. Well, narrow by human standards. Her small body navigated the turns with no trouble, and Thomasi was nimble enough to make his ascent look graceful. The bartender was the main one troubled, as his girth literally compressed at every turning.
The room he led them to was small and simple, and had a window looking out over the main street. It had a pretty good view of the bouncing spot, and the warped, bubbled glass showed two pinkish forms there, stripped to their underwear. “You say you are meeting your master here?” The bartender’s coin-eyepatch gleamed in the weak sunlight as he turned his gaze back to Thomasi.
“In a manner of speaking. My master is meeting someone of great importance today, and I am here to smooth the way.” Thomasi smiled. “You understand how it is.”
“And you wish to have such a meeting here?” The bartender looked around.
Chase did, too. The wooden furniture was a bit battered and there were cracks in the walls, but the room was clean. A jar stood on a shelf across the way, with flowers in it, and a painting of a glowering bald man hung askew on a wall. By comparison to the common room downstairs, this was luxury.
“I do.” Tom sat at the table. “With the gates being what they are, it seems the best option available to discuss business.”
“Ah, business!” The bartender smiled. “Your master is a man of business.”
“She knows her business, all right.” Thomasi smiled.
“Mie scuse, I should not have assumed,” the bartender said, a hint of oil seeping into his tone. One hand felt in his pocket, and coins clinked. He startled a bit, as if he wasn’t aware of what he’d done. “Please wait here. I will have a suitable repast sent up shortly.”
With a nod and a casual wave, Thomasi dismissed the man and turned to stare out the window.
Once the door shut, Chase went around the room, searching. Only one door in and out. No secret passages that she could see. Although… “Ha!” she exclaimed, as she pushed a chair over to the wall, and clambered up to the portrait.
“What are you doing?” Thomasi asked.
“I thought the eyes looked funny.” She took the picture down, revealing two painted eyes on the wall behind it. “These are peepholes.”
Thomasi laughed. “I’m not surprised. Go ahead and put that back, though.”
“It’s just like the Jinkies book I read. The murderer spies on people through… peepholes… like… these…” Chase paled, and her voice trailed off. “He’s going to murder us, isn’t he?”
“Nope,” Thomasi said, turning back to the window. “And there goes the runner. Off down the street to the most important man in town. In the outskirts, anyway.”
“Okay…” Chase replaced the portrait.
Then she nearly fell off the chair, as a voice behind her asked, “Can I please come out now?”
It was Renny, Chase realized. “Can he come out?”
Thomasi nodded. “I think we’re safe. For at least ten minutes, maybe an hour if people are busy. Maybe more if they’re being real idiots about it. Although you should probably be ready to hide, in case the bartender actually brings us food.”
Renny squirmed free of the pack, and Chase hopped down off the chair, and swung him easily down to the floor. He looked around with interest, then moved over to sit under the painting.
“So what is this all about?” Chase asked, keeping her voice low. “Why are we here? Why did you flash gold in front of that many miscreants? Why aren’t we dead in a ditch somewhere, murdered and robbed because of that gold? And what’s this about a master? Who’s she supposed to be?”
Thomasi smiled, though his eyes didn’t stray from the window. “Chase. Do you remember what you asked me to do for you, almost a week ago now?”
“I asked you to train me to be the best adventurer I could,” Chase said, crossing her arms.
“And I am. But since you’re not a Model, a Tamer, or a Ringmaster, most things I have to teach you fall into the social sphere. Fortunately we’re in a place where I can set you up for massive Grifter experience. If this works out, you’ll level. My god, you’ll level.”
Chase pulled off her headscarf, and felt her ears perk with interest. “I’m listening.”
“I’m sure you are. But you should be thinking, instead.” he said, glancing at her, and his eyes glittered as he looked from her to Renny. “Wouldn’t you rather earn even more experience, and figure it out yourself?” Thomasi’s smile showed perfect teeth. “You have anywhere from eight to fifty-eight minutes, if my estimates are right. Tell me your deductions. Tell me why I did what I did, and what I’m up to, here. What we’re up to, at any rate.”
Chase puffed her cheeks out in annoyance.
But annoying as he was, he was right. She could gain experience from trying to crack his plans. And as a fellow Grifter, he couldn’t object too much if she cheated, right? Still…
“It’s going to be hard to do this without context. Can you tell me if some particular assumptions are wrong or right?”
Thomasi considered. “Yes, that seems fair. But they have to be specific. Don’t guess wildly or broadly and expect me to answer.”
“Okay.” She pushed the chair to the table, then clambered up and stood on it, studying the cowled man’s face. “You chose this taverna. But you weren’t familiar to the bartender or the crowd. That could either be because you’re a stranger here, or because you’ve been in prison for twenty years.”
“Give or take,” Thomasi said. “It wasn’t exactly twenty. And that’s not a comment confirming or denying either of your statements.”
“Give or take,” Chase said, rubbing her sore ear. Being cramped under the headscarf had done the long, pointy extremity no good. “You didn’t know about the peepholes. So I’m going to assume that you didn’t come here because you are familiar with the Taverna Seme.”
“You are correct.” Thomasi said.
A knock on the door, and Chase scrambled for her headscarf again. Renny disappeared into her pack, so quickly that she almost fell off the chair.
“Come in,” Thomasi called.
A whip-thin woman in a patched dress stood beyond, hands full of tankards and pitchers. Her sour face was stretched in what she probably thought was a friendly smile. “Some beer? Some water? Some milk?”
“Is the milk fresh?” Thomasi asked.
“The finest for your daughter, sir,” the woman simpered. It didn’t seem like it fit at all.
“Then leave all three pitchers.” Thomasi tossed a few coppers on the table, and the woman’s eyes widened as she sat down her drinks, and scooped the coins away, in a blur of motion.
She didn’t spill a drop, despite the fast movement. Got to a be a job skill there. Barmaid? Waitress? Chase pondered but kept it to herself.
“The milk’s mostly fresh,” the woman muttered. “The cellar’s cold. But I can run out and get better for you if you want.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. How shall we call you if we need you again?” Thomasi’s smile was brilliant, and the woman swallowed, flushing slightly.
Oh, I know that look, Chase grinned to herself. She fancied Thomasi. Or perhaps his coins. Probably his coins. The end result was the same, really.
“I’m down the sidestairs, in the kitchen,” the woman said, fussing with her apron strings, smoothing out her skirt… and drawing attention to the shape of her hips under the dress. Not so thin as the rest of her, there. “Just send your girl if you need summat. Or come yourself, if milord can spare the time.”
“We shall see how the afternoon goes,” Thomasi promised, and spread his hands.
The woman giggled, sounding like a hawk trying to imitate a baby chicken, and left… after a slow, lingering look over one shoulder.
Once the door was shut, Thomasi he
ld up a finger, then lowered it a few moments later. “Add this into your logic,” he told her. “And I advise skipping the milk.”
Chase nodded. “I planned to. It wouldn’t taste right.” She poured water instead and scowled at it. “Safe, do you think?”
“Probably. We’re upriver from the city, yes?”
Chase reviewed her mental geography. “Yes.”
“I’d say it’ll be fine. And if not, you can always pass on whatever debuff you get hit with to someone more deserving, right?”
Chase blinked. Her half-secured headscarf rose with her ears. “You’re right! I forgot I could do that! Hey, stop laughing!”
“To be fair, she’s only had the job a few days.” Renny said, taking one of the chairs and hopping up on it. “Can I play the figuring things out game, too?”
“Up to her,” Thomasi said, pouring himself a tankard of beer. “I don’t mind.”
“You don’t know this tavern.”
“Taverna,” Chase corrected.
“Right. He doesn’t know this tavern, so that means he chose it. Why did he choose it? What does it have that other taverns— tavernas we passed didn’t?”
“Glass windows,” Chase said.
“Nicely done!” Thomasi said.
“Why does this place have glass windows, and no other buildings around have those?” Renny asked.
“Because they’re the only place that can afford them?” Chase asked. “The rest of this place looks pretty poor. I mean, this place doesn’t look rich, but…”
Thomasi’s mustaches twitched. “I’ll point out something for free. Some of the buildings around here had broken glass windows once upon a time.”
“But these are intact.” Chase said, turning it over in his head. “They’re intact because… there would be trouble if someone broke them.”
Thomasi took another pull of the beer. “Good…”
“Why would there be trouble? Well, a lot of locals drink here. Would it be trouble because then they’d get kicked out, or because the owner would raise prices if his windows got broken?”
“No,” Thomasi said. “Getting colder.”
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