Mostly luck. Since Tabita was out of the room that meant she could kick Phase Two into motion early. Chase whispered to Renny, who sent Cagna the message. And after a moment, she saw her two bird-costumed friends head out of the hall down a side corridor.
Then she waited.
Chase made a show of fiddling with her purse, and the bag of props that she’d brought along. Minutes crawled by, and after a time Chase looked up to find the major domo looking her way, talking to several servants. After a brief conversation two of them started to head over, and Chase’s heart sunk. The clearest vision she’d had earlier today had involved a performance. If she didn’t do that, then things got hazier. A lot hazier.
But fortunately it was a moot point. A few seconds before the servants reached her, Chase caught a flash of red hair over white fur. She saw Tabita walking back in with the dopey werewolf costumed crowd, and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Excuse me, Miss?” the lead servant said. “If you’re not going to—”
With the best imperial glower Chase silenced him with a look. A flourish, one finger upraised, and she whispered “Now, Renny.”
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” Renny’s amplified voice boomed out, as the oncoming servants found themselves at the front of a suddenly-interested throng of nobles. “PREPARE TO BE DAZZLED BY THE DIVINE INSIGHT OF MADAME MYSTERRRRRRRIIIIIIAAAAAAAAA!”
Chase had to admit that drawing out and yelling the last word worked a lot better than she thought it would. That part had been Bastien’s suggestion, and she was glad she’d trusted his expertise.
But she could only appreciate that for a second. Time mattered, now... time and audacity. “Silver Tongue, Lecture,” she muttered, as the last echoes of her stage name faded.
And then, as planned, Renny shifted his talents to amplifying her voice.
“I command fate!” Chase declared, throwing modesty to the wind.
“I see the future!” Chase stated, entirely truthful.
“I am the harbinger of messages from BEYOND...” Though Chase knew she wouldn’t be using that trick here. Given the anti-necromancy laws she didn’t want to get arrested.
“Nobles and goodfolk of Arretzi? I am your Medium!” She said and hopped into the air.
Out of nowhere a chair materialized and caught Chase as she rose above the crowd. They gasped, and then applause rained from around the room.
Then the chair settled down to about human head height and was joined by a whirling round table. It slowed, and as it did, Chase pulled a purple, starry-patterned tablecloth from her props bag and threw it over the illusion that concealed a mass of air beneath. Unlike the chair, other people would be interacting with the table, so a little reinforcement couldn’t go wrong.
“Now...” Chase said, pulling out the cards and shuffling them, as Renny made illusionary cards the size of wagons appear and float above. “Who dares to see what fate has in store for them tonight?”
CHA+1
The crowd ate it up... and in short order, a line formed. And Chase told fortune after fortune, keeping it brief. Above her Renny showed the cards in all their glory, animating them to oohs and ahs of the crowd, and personalizing them to whichever partygoer was present.
And more importantly, drawing attention from Chase.
“Silent Activation, Stack Deck,” she’d mouth whenever a bad card came up, or the Fortuna wanted to be more brutally honest than she was comfy with. The fortunes were generally good, and those that were questionable could be spun or slightly tweaked to ensure that nobody walked away insulted.
And as she worked, she snuck glances at Tabita... Tabita, who watched with wide eyes.
Come on, take the bait.
But the dwarven woman never budged, and Chase started to despair. Her vision had shown her reading the werewolf’s fortune. It had been very clear about that. Had the vision been incorrect? It was possible. There were many futures, and fate was not set in stone.
Just as Chase was certain she’d have to pack it in, a furry shape lumbered out of the crowd to the laughter and jeers of the crowd. It raised two oversized paws and did a fake dance as it waltzed forward...
...and Chase recognized the black clothes showing under the fur suit. She’d seen those clothes before, in her very first vision.
This is the werewolf Alpha! The new one, the Burglar.
She smiled at him, marking his wary eyes showing from behind his ridiculous mask. “Ah... I see we have a beast among us!” Chase’s voice boomed out.
“Rawr!” he replied, but his eyes narrowed.
“Well then, good sir! Would you know your own fate... or that of the werewolves, that trouble our fair city?”
The laughter and shouts from the crowd paused.
“The wolves!” Someone chanted from the back, and Chase was sure it was Tabita’s voice. The halven girl grinned wide as the crowd took up the chant and knew her vision hadn’t been wasted after all.
A fortune by proxy is still a fortune, Chase said. “Then we shall do something new, here!” Chase said and held out the deck. “Shuffle them, sir! Shuffle them, and think hard upon the werewolves that dare terrorize Arretzi!”
Interested murmurs, and the crowd pressed forward.
The Alpha nodded and shuffled, amazingly dexterous despite his large fuzzy gloves. Up close and watching, Chase could see that they didn’t fit very well at all. In fact, his entire costume was a bit loose and baggy...
No. No, he definitely hadn’t started the night in this costume. And as he shuffled she found the other fake werewolves in the crowd and marked how they were moving differently from the comical antics they’d exhibited earlier.
She swapped out the fake werewolves for real ones. Clever.
“Here you go then,” The fake-real Alpha growled, handing the cards back.
Chase gave him a wide grin and started stacking the deck.
“The first card represents you... Or rather, the werewolves.” She flipped up the Party, the card that showed four successful adventurers dividing up spoils. It animated, and the crowd oohed and ahh’d as the mage cast spells to identify various bits of treasure, and the rogue quietly pocketed coins when the fighter and the cleric weren’t looking. “Unified as a pack, unified in purpose and enjoying their victories. But are they right to do so? The next card shall say, for it represents the dilemma at hand...”
She flipped over the Treasure Chest, reversed this time. A massive box appeared in midair, bulging with gold and gems and scepters and wands... and then it upended, spilling the treasure onto the laughing crowd. “They are seeking something valuable! They’re not after simple murder; there’s more at stake here. Something... physical.”
“Really?” The Alpha said, slipping up and using his real voice. He cleared his throat. “What could that be?” He asked, in a much growlier voice.
“Ah, perhaps the cards shall say... first, let the cards reveal their ally, the traitor to the city itself!”
Boos from the crowd, and another card spun into existence above Chase as she drew it. The Healer: a woman in white robes with a staff, laying hands on an ungrateful looking knight. It animated, and the woman healed the knight, only to have him go charging off to stand in a bonfire for no reason, then run back alternately yelling abuse and whining, still on fire. The Healer rolled her eyes and got back to work, endlessly patient. “Your... the werewolves’ best ally for this task is a healer of sorts...” Chase let her voice show tones of surprise. “Someone who’s wise and good at keeping her friends alive. I’m getting a hint of other abilities too... Strange.” She let the silence linger for a bit too long. Then she shrugged, as the crowd muttered.
“Well, let us see what their key choice is. This is the crux of the matter, the decision that the werewolves can make that will gain them their goal or lose it...”
And Chase pulled out Death.
The room gasped as the bony skeleton rose up on high, red eyes glowing, scythe sweeping to the ongoing celebration of the party. But it paused, as Chase reve
aled the card was reversed.
Instantly the skeleton twisted, eyeing the Healer instead. It raised its weapon, and hesitated. “They stand poised to kill their best ally!” Chase gasped. “Their own bestial nature will undo them! This is truly good news for Arretzi!”
Cheers from around the room, and the Alpha leaned back, arms folded.
“But the fortune is not yet done!” Chase declared, voice booming around the hall. “For their worst enemy awaits declaration. Let us see what noble scion can stand against these horrible creatures!”
And with a flourish, Chase pulled the Griefer. The Noob’s hapless figure faded into existence, scratching his head with his wooden sword, mismatched armor clanking as he walked through a dark wood. Then a murderous figure, wearing glowing armor and wielding a sword twice his height faded out of invisibility and killed the Noob, laughing all the while.
“The Griefer...” Chase hissed. “A powerful and bored man, who kills for joy. A cruel man but one who is on the side of the angels, for he shall vanquish the beasts that trouble our city!”
“Oh my gods,” the Alpha whispered.
“Yes... the choice is clear! The werewolves are certain to fall now. They will kill the woman who is their own best chance at finding the treasure...” Death’s scythe fell and the Healer died. “...and the Griefer shall gank them all.” The Griefer, wiping his sword free of the Noob’s blood turned and chucked a bomb over his shoulder, blowing the Party to smithereens. “Their treasure shall be lost forever.” The empty box cracked and fell apart, crumbling into nothing. Death saluted the Griefer, and the two walked off hand in hand, almost skipping away.
Chase smiled as the Alpha nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered and made a show of pulling out a money pouch, opening it, and pouring silver onto her table.
“You’re welcome!” she said, but she was looking past him. Across the hall, Tabita was talking furiously with the other fake/not-fake werewolves, gesturing and pointing at various parts of the manor. Chase watched as costumed furry figures ran in various directions.
“I fear that is all,” Chase declared, as she stood. Her chair disappeared and she drifted to the ground. The Alpha nodded and slipped back into the crowd, and Chase retrieved both cards and tablecloth with a flourish, before tucking them away. “But cross my palm with silver, and I may perhaps find it within me to perform again!”
The coins rained down then, and Chase snapped her fingers at the nearest servants, gesturing at the rapidly-disappearing floor. They got to work gathering, which was good because the levels were rolling in now, and Chase was too busy reading the words and enjoying the rush of energy.
You are now a level 12 Grifter!
CHA+3
DEX+3
LUCK+3
You are now a level 4 Medium!
CHA+5
LUCK+5
You are now a level 5 Medium!
CHA+5
LUCK+5
You have learned the Focus Vision Skill!
Your Focus Vision skill is now level 1!
You have learned the Fortuna skill!
You have learned the Palmistry Skill!
You are now a level 5 Teacher!
INT+1
WILL+1
You have learned the Red Ink skill!
Chase blinked, not sure she’d read one of those correctly. The Fortuna skill? She was already doing quite a lot with the cards; she wasn’t sure what else she could do with them.
Maybe this would open more options!
“Milady,” a voice whispered in her ear.
A very, very familiar voice.
Chase turned, keeping her face under control as she smiled up at a green-liveried servant, a dapper man with a sharp face, angular cheekbones, and a black goatee.
He hadn’t even changed his hairstyle. But if he hadn’t spoken, she wouldn’t have seen the truth of him. “Can I help you?” she said, feigning ignorance.
He smiled, ruefully. “The mistress of the house summons you. Will you come?”
“I shall.” Chase said and followed him through the crowd. Many of the partygoers bent to congratulate her, or try to grab her for a talk, but she used quiet apologies and nimble dodges to get out of the way and leave them behind.
And in a matter of minutes she found herself in a deserted hallway in the upper stories. The carpet was a different shade of green, but the walls were dark wood, rich imported stuff that seemed to reinforce the notions of serious business and subtle power.
“You’re in danger,” the ’servant’ spoke.
“I know. I was wondering when you’d turn up again,” Chase said.
Thomasi Jacobi Venturi sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t understand. She’s here. Zenobia. She’s waiting for you at the end of this walk. I can get you out of here, but you have to leave now.”
Chase winced. “The timing is about what I expected. But it’s okay. She’ll listen to me.”
“What are you... No, you don’t understand what you’re doing!” Thomasi whispered. “You’re playing with fire!”
“And you’re keeping secrets. Tell me about the skin and do it quickly.”
Thomasi ground his teeth. “Tell me your game first! What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m stopping the werewolves. They’re killing people.”
“So am I! Once they get the skin, they’ll leave!”
“Tell me why! Why is it so gods-damned important!” Her voice was rising, and she reigned it in. Too much risk of other ears around. They were being watched; she was certain of it.
Tom’s face was a study in irritation. Finally he sighed. “I promise I’ll tell you all about it later. It’s very, very complicated. But you have to come with me, now. If Zenobia gets you, you’re dead. Maybe not immediately, but she won’t leave such a loose end to trouble her again.”
“Give me the short version,” Chase said. “Or no deal.”
“Fine! Fine...” Thomasi shook his head. “The skin is an artifact from before we got stuck. Tabita made it before everything went to hell. It’s also tied to her, intimately. She thinks she can use it to get home. I’m not certain she’s wrong, and if there’s even a chance, she deserves to give it a try.”
“Okay,” Chase said, considering the matter. “So you are going to give it to her here?”
“No! There are too many wards, and the skin is magical. I’ve stashed it, and I was going to tell her where, but then you started your show. What is your game?”
“Tell me one more thing.”
“Damn it—” Thomasi choked off his own words as his voice rose. “I’ve taught you too well,” he whispered. “Now you’re trying to get levels from me.”
“I’m honestly not, but your priorities are lousy,” Chase said, glaring back up at him. “This skin might let Tabita go home or whatever. But will she take the rest of the werewolves with her?”
Thomasi hesitated, and in that hesitation Chase had all the answer she needed.
“Then I’m going to go talk to the Camerlengo,” Chase said. “Because of Friatta Costello, and Signore Costello.”
“Who?”
“An innocent daughter who didn’t deserve to die when a werewolf murdered her,” Chase whispered, holding his gaze with all the willpower she could bring to bear. “And a father who showed me his heart when he wept for her.”
Thomasi looked away.
They walked in silence, down the long, long hall. It was far too deserted, even with the servants tending to the party. No, there were watchers: there were guards.
“You must think me a monster,” he finally said. “For helping her, despite what she has done.”
“No,” Chase said. “I don’t understand you yet. Or her, or any of this. Not truly. But I want to. I want you to tell it to me, so I can understand. Our destinies are intertwined now, so if you keep doing things like this, I WILL think you a monster. And I will work to stop you, eventually. Or more things like this will keep happening, where we end up a
t cross purposes.”
Thomasi tightened his lips. “What would you have me do?”
“Seek out the Muscle Wizaard and Cagna. Make contact quietly, and they’ll fill you in on the plan. Do NOT make contact with Tabita. Do NOT tell her where you stashed the skin.”
“Muscle Wiz... he’s here?” Thomasi’s eyes rose, and she saw the first honest smile she’d had from him tonight.
“He is, and he missed you greatly. You probably don’t want to reveal yourself to him in a public place and be ready to get a few ribs broken. He’s a hugger.”
“Ha! I remember him well! No worries, I’ll take care.” Then his grin faded. “You’re sure this is how you want to do this? She’s not to be trifled with. She’s an Inquisitor. They are built to counter Grifters like us.”
“I’m sure,” Chase said. “Because I won’t tell her a single lie. Now go. Get to the others and get out of here. Do NOT tell me where.”
“All right. The room you really shouldn’t go into is six doors down, to the right, with a pair of lanterns above it. Good luck.”
Chase nodded, and walked halfway to the door. Then she paused and looked down to Renny.
“Problems?” The fox whispered.
“Complications. Tom...” Chase ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t trust him?”
“I trust him to be Tom. Beyond that...” she let the words vanish in the silence of the hall.
“Do you want me to...”
“Yes, please.”
Chase walked the rest of the way alone.
The door was ajar, and a woman’s voice called “Enter,” when Chase raised her hand to knock.
She walked into the room, a dimly-lit study with an overstuffed armchair silhouetted against a roaring fire.
Then came a whisper of steel, and the shadows resolved themselves into guards with swords, a ring of them, closing in blade-first. There were more people behind them, but Chase ignored them for now, turning before the blades got too close, searching the faces for the one she was expecting.
And she found it. A stern face, pinched and lined with worry and cruelty, glaring down at her with loathing. Zenobia the Camerlengo. Zenobia, who had tried to drown Chase like a housewife would wash away vermin. Zenobia, who Chase had left facing one of her worst enemies... and oh yeah, then the halven had dumped a mountain’s worth of water on HER.
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