by P. A. Wilson
Maynard slipped into the antechamber as soon as the voices faded. Luck was with him again and the room was empty. Leaving the antechamber would not raise anyone’s suspicions. It was normally a busy room and no one paid attention to who came and went.
He observed the traffic in the public hall. A few clients were waiting to be noticed. Couriers were coming in, going to the private rooms, or sitting in chairs gossiping, or talking to clients.
In a far corner, Lisseline was sitting at a small table taking tea and reading a book. He strode toward her with purpose as though he had an appointment. She looked up as Maynard approached. He acknowledged her greeting and asked permission to speak.
When she nodded, he sat and said, “I understand that we have a new client.”
She closed her book and placed it on the table. “Gossip does travel fast. Is there any other information?” Her tone carried suspicion.
Maynard knew she was worried about the news getting out, but since Aranate Devissial had entered through the street door, the fact that he had come wasn’t a secret. “No. It seems our eminent client likes his privacy. Have you assigned the contract yet?”
She sipped tea while assessing him. Maynard was used to women looking at him that way. One of his main assets was his looks. He knew that his longish black hair and fair skin drew female attention, and he was usually willing to reciprocate the interest, but today he had more important things to do. He waited Lisseline out, not wanting to appear eager.
After a moment, she placed the delicate cup back in its saucer. “The client has requested a specific courier.”
“That is unusual.” Maynard restrained his desire to argue. This was his opening. “The board finds that acceptable?”
“We do.”
She was keeping everything very close. He had to take care that he didn’t give any indication that he knew what was going on.
“May I ask? No, of course that’s impudent of me. I’m sure that whoever the contract has gone to is competent — and loyal to the guild.”
“All of our couriers are loyal to the guild,” Lisseline said. “Why would you imply otherwise?”
“I worry that being chosen by the client will make it more likely that the loyalty will lie with them, this time.”
Lisseline leaned in to whisper, “Is that how it will work for you, Maynard Slack? Is your loyalty for sale?”
Real anger flushed his cheeks. He pretended that the emotion was offense when he replied, “No. I would never turn my back on the guild. But there are couriers who are less connected to us, ones who have no representatives on the board.”
She laughed at him. “You mean Springheart and Willowvine? They will not betray us.”
He knew that wasn’t true, but a debate on the loyalty of elves wasn’t the purpose of this meeting. “I assume that the client chose them. They are the best, after all.”
“Do not be so jealous of their status, Maynard. You are one of the best we have as well.” Lisseline seemed to consider whether or not she could confirm his guess. “I suppose it will be public knowledge, and I know I can rely on you to be discreet. If we take the contract, it will go to them.”
He nodded slowly, trying to give the impression he was considering his words. When he spoke, it was quietly and with an air of concern. “Such an important client, do you not think they deserve more than two people assigned?” He knew the board could afford to have a third person helping, but he couldn’t let her know that he knew the value of the contract.
“No. The terms are quite clear. Springheart and Willowvine will be the only ones assigned to the contract. Now, I have a meeting to attend. If you talk to the marshal, you will find a number of contracts that fit your skills.”
Maynard rose as Lisseline stood. He wasn’t discouraged, just delayed. There would be plenty of time to get added to the contract, plenty of time to find out what they needed to do, and plenty of time to sabotage the two elves and save the day himself.
Chapter 6
Willowvine was determined to make Springheart listen.
As they followed the marshal to the small room at the far end of the row, she imagined the price the elves would have to pay. This contract might be dangerous, so the least they could do was thank her this time.
Maybe she’d ask to be allowed to enter the elven lands again. She could visit her old gang; maybe convince them to form a courier guild that was only filled with elves. People would pay elves to retrieve things, and pay well.
“We are taking the contract, Willowvine,” Springheart interrupted her daydreams.
“Of course. I think we just need to ask for more than our usual cut.” If she could get him to agree to more money, adding a little retribution for the way they’d been treated would be easier. “The guild is getting enough out of this to double our commission. It would mean some new clothes, maybe a better room.”
He shook his head.
She hated it when he did that. She wasn’t a child to be humored. “I’m not saying we should get double, but a bonus would be nice.”
“When we joined the guild, we agreed to our commission. It has paid our bills and kept us comfortable. Do you want to risk our position here for a few more coins?”
Taking the fact he didn’t outright say no as encouragement, Willowvine continued her argument, “When we joined the guild, we weren’t the best couriers they had.”
He didn’t deny the truth of her statement. He didn’t speak at all. Willowvine tried not to get too optimistic. Springheart had done this in the past. He’d let her lay out all her thoughts, and then demolished each one until she was convinced that he was right. This time it was too important to her. She’d been waiting for this opportunity since the day after the battle of the gate.
The elves needed to understand that orphans were not a danger, and the only way she could make that happen was to get them to bring the orphans back in to elven society.
“I think they should give us ten percent as a bonus.” She needed to provoke a response. If she could get Springheart to argue with her, there was hope that she could actually win a point.
Money was the easiest thing to talk about. How she would get him to agree to concessions for orphans wasn’t clear, but she’d know what to say when the opportunity came.
He waited for her next argument, and Willowvine knew she was losing. “Why not? We deserve something more for this. A bonus would help up set up our own guild.”
That got his attention. Springheart frowned and leaned in to whisper, “I have not agreed to do that, and do not speak of it in this hall.”
“But if we did, we could hire all the orphans and be just an elf guild.” The words just slipped out. It was too late now to dance around the subject, so she continued, “The elves could hire us. You know that there’s a need. You did that before we met. If we worked for the elves…” She hadn’t thought through the next steps. If they worked for the elves, then maybe there would be less fear of orphans, and that was a step toward being accepted.
“Why do you think the elves would be willing to hire us? It is likely that they would let us set up and then simply arrest the members of your old gang. That they would see it as an opportunity to remove the threat that we represent.”
She sighed. That was always the argument she couldn’t fight. “What threat do we represent?”
Springheart rose, opened the door, and checked to make sure no one was lurking. Apparently satisfied that they had privacy, he returned to his seat. “I don’t know what they think. It’s something we represent. There are so few elven children and I have wondered why they would be so willing to ignore us. But then there are not that many orphans. Perhaps a hundred of us.”
She stood up and started pacing, trying to burn off the excitement she felt at finally getting an answer. “Exactly! If we were accepted, we could create our own families, and then there are no orphans.”
He waved for her to sit. “Have you ever wondered why none of the orphans have had childre
n?”
She started to answer when the import of the question hit her. “No. But there should be, right? We couple and there are enough of us that there should be children.” Her earlier argument forgotten, she started to think through the possibilities. “Maybe we need something from our family to make the babies possible. A tea or some other magic, something that we don’t get to access.”
Springheart shrugged. “We can guess all we want, but we won’t know unless someone tells us.”
Willowvine sat up.
“That’s what we could negotiate. The truth about why we don’t have children.” The other thing could wait. If they could find a way to have children, then the orphans would have a family, and they could rejoin elven society without a plan, or any risk.
“If we knew, do you think it a good idea that we procreate?” Springheart asked.
She knew she hadn’t thought through the consequences — again. It didn’t matter. If they knew, then they could decide, and think about the results. “Why not?”
“If the elders exile orphans, why would they take in the children of orphans? They would have no family line, they would be orphans no matter that they have parents.” He rose with a sigh. “I think we must take the contract as it is. I am not willing to hold the elves hostage to your plans. And the client is not in a position to negotiate anyway.”
It was final. And she knew that he was right, but it didn’t help. “Fine, we’ll do it for the usual commission. But this conversation isn’t over.”
* * *
Willowvine stood back and let Springheart lead the way as they joined Aranate Devissial in the guild boardroom. This time the board members were in their usual seats, and Devissial sat in the client’s chair. Willowvine was irritated that the two couriers were expected to stand as usual.
The presence she felt earlier was still there. She knew it wasn’t bleed-over from the antechamber. The aura was muddy so she couldn’t tell who it was, but it was too strong to be anywhere but in the room. She didn’t say anything because this was not the place to suggest that the guild was not to be trusted. And she wondered if the guild knew and had approved a spy. The board members couldn’t be happy with the special treatment this client expected. They were used to being in a position of power in negotiations.
Lisseline took the role of spokesperson. “You have had sufficient time to discuss your options?”
Willowvine almost snorted at the statement. There were no options. Not even the normal one to refuse the contract. The time they’d been given was just a formality. She let Springheart do the talking because he was better at hiding his feelings than she was. Surely, he felt the same way, irritated at the politics, annoyed at the pretense, but he was always calm on the outside.
His gaze moved from the board members to Devissial as he spoke, “We have discussed the information we have been given. We are willing to take the contract based on what we currently know.”
Lisseline nodded but rather than saying the formal phrases to seal the contract, she turned to Willowvine. “This situation is unusual. We are told that the guild will not know the details. It is important that you both state your acceptance. Do you agree with what has been said?”
It surprised Willowvine to be asked. The guild had always seen them as one unit. Neither of them had ever been offered a solo contract. And Springheart had always been to one to agree to contracts. She had agreed to accept the price, but could she add another condition?
Before Springheart could stop her, she said, “I can’t say until we have the details.”
Springheart looked at her, barely moving to do so, but her magic saw the change in his aura. The normal calm was turning angry. She had to tread carefully if she didn’t want to have a full-blown argument later.
Devissial didn’t move, but she saw approval in his aura. Her feelings about what she read were always a part of the deal. A stranger’s approval didn’t minimize a friend’s anger. She shut down the ability, knowing it would only stay quiet for a short while, and concentrated on her goal. “Can we reserve the right to add a condition when we have the details?”
Lisseline deferred to Devissial. “The guild cannot answer for the person you represent.”
He considered for a few too many moments for Willowvine’s comfort. Even without her power, she could tell that Springheart was getting more angry, and the board members were becoming uncomfortable. Lisseline was regretting the request for both to answer. Willowvine began to think that it wasn’t the guild’s idea to ask.
“We are both in a difficult situation,” Devissial said just as she was about to accept the contract without added conditions. “I do not know what is in the message, so I cannot say what questions you will have. Perhaps we can come to a compromise?”
He waited until she agreed before continuing, “Then let us say that I will speak to my friend. If you have any questions related to the contract, they will be answered. If you have one question unrelated to the contract, I will recommend that it is answered after completion.”
She couldn’t respond right away. The thought that they would be able to get any information shocked her. She’d been prepared to hear a no, and then accept the contract as it stood.
“I cannot promise more than that,” Devissial said when she didn’t speak.
Taking in a breath, Willowvine forced herself to control of her excitement. “That is satisfactory. Thank you.”
Her power had returned because she wasn’t able to control it and the excitement at the same time. Relief was the strongest emotion in the room. Someone was thinking of revenge, but it was lost almost as soon as she noticed it. Her own feeling of victory drowning out any weaker emotion.
Within minutes, the contract was formally accepted, and the guild members were preparing to leave with their payment. Aranate Devissial approached with the message in one hand and a bag of coins in the other. “I will take my leave. Here are the details, my card, and an advance on your expenses.”
Springheart took the items and handed them to Willowvine, annoyance still clear on his face. “We will contact you if we need to. Do you require any progress reporting?”
“You only have twelve days. Do not spend any time reporting. Just get the job done.” He turned, nodded to Willowvine, and then left them alone.
Chapter 7
Springheart waited until he was sure that they were alone —and he had a handle on his anger. She’d promised to accept the terms. The fact that she’d thought to ask for information, and that he was happy that they would get at least one answer didn’t mitigate the fact that she’d lied to him.
“I’m sorry,” she said before he could express his feelings. “I didn’t expect to be asked. I was caught off guard.”
You’ve had plenty of time to come up with an excuse.
“You aren’t that impulsive. You were planning it. We agreed, Willowvine. That should have been the end of it.”
He could see that she was trying to be calm, and to talk him around, but he didn’t need her talent to know how upset she was because of the tears that made her eyes shine. It was hard sometimes to remember how young she was. Barely twenty, which for most elves was still a child.
Willowvine’s history and her competence at their job made him forget that there were still times when she could be hurt. The elves were her weak point. She badly needed to know that they valued her, and that she was a person in their eyes.
“I know you think it was on purpose, but, Springheart, I swear it wasn’t. I would never betray you that way.” The tears fell and she swiped them away. “I can’t be alone, please don’t send me away.”
He handed her a handkerchief. There was no doubt left, just sorrow. If she believed he’d send her away over this, she was more damaged by the treatment they received than he’d thought. “I’m not breaking up our team. I will never send you away, Willowvine.” She wiped the final tears from her eyes and relief, or joy, or something replaced the pain in her eyes.
“Th
at’s good to hear. You might have to climb more walls and take more risks if you have to work alone.” She laughed. A brittle sound that didn’t match the words.
Springheart let her pretense of humor lie. “Can I count on you to not get caught off guard again?” He couldn’t maintain his anger in the face of her raw need to be accepted. “It would be a pity to waste your question.”
A smile banished the tears. “Yes. We have plenty of time to figure out what to ask. Unless you think we’ll be denied. We only have Aranate’s word that he will try.”
“What did your magic tell you?”
“That he was sincere.”
“Then we should prepare our question, but know that we may not get an answer.” He looked around the room and then held out the message. “Let’s see what exactly we’ve agreed to.”
They broke the seal and laid the message on the table. It was short, and Springheart found himself wishing he’d negotiated a meeting with the real client so that they could get more detail.
Willowvine read the words. “A catastrophe has befallen the elves. You were successful in resolving the last, and so we have commissioned your help for this. The elves are dependent on the Stone of Family to reproduce. This stone has been removed from its place and if it is not returned we will die out. Your contract is to locate the stone and return it to the rightful place. We will provide you with the location where you will deliver it when you have the stone.”
“That doesn’t seem like an elf wrote it,” she stated. “It’s clear and unambiguous. Like they aren’t talking to elves at all.”