“Like any good paragon of virtue.” Jak finally put his own arms on Torin’s shoulders. “Forgive me for thinking that you’d be just like everyone else I’ve been involved with? They all tried to manipulate my emotions, and it grew tiresome. I guess I’ve come to expect people to think badly of me once they get to know me.”
“Well, I don’t. I wish this relationship to continue. Besides, I’m invested—I shaved my beard for you!”
Jak made a face. “And a good thing, kissing you with it was awful.”
Torin threw his head back and laughed. “Indeed. However, there is one thing I wish to hear from you.”
Cautiously Jak asked, “What’s that?”
“Tell me the significance of Wiate’s foot.”
It was Jak’s turn to laugh. He leaned forward and kissed Torin, and then guided him to the bench.
Torin listened with contentment as Jak spun a tale about the power of the god Wiate’s foot. “Specifically the right one,” Jak made sure to emphasize. “The left one was shit.”
They continued to sit on the bench long into the night.
THE END
BONUS VIGNETTES
Since December 2017, Keith R.A. DeCandido’s Patreon (which you can support at patreon.com/krad) has included monthly vignettes featuring his original characters. In the first year of the Patreon’s existence, four of those vignettes have featured characters and situations from the “Precinct” series, and as an added bonus, we present those four mini-tales for you here in Mermaid Precinct.
“An Unexpected Trip to Sandy Brook Way” features Danthres (reluctantly) talking to Suzett, the owner of one of the prostitution houses on that thoroughfare, in a story that takes place prior to Dragon Precinct.
Both “Don’t Ask the Question if You Don’t Want the Answer” and “The Streak” take place in the year between Gryphon Precinct and Mermaid Precinct, the former involving the newest members of the detective squad, the other showing Manfred and Kellan in the early days of their record-breaking streak as seen in Mermaid Precinct.
And then we have “Gan Brightblade and the Swamp of Kormak,” a tale of Brightblade and Bogg the Barbarian, two of the heroes who were victimized in Dragon Precinct, from their days as adventurers.
An Unexpected Trip to Sandy Brook Way
“What can I do for you, Detective?”
Lieutenant Danthres Tresyllione of the Cliff’s End Castle Guard gritted her teeth at Suzett’s words. The woman who ran the brothel in a cul-de-sac on Sandy Brook Way wore a scoop-necked dress that accentuated considerable cleavage. Wrinkles had started to become visible on her smooth face, which meant she didn’t use a glamour, unlike her employees. She stood in front of the beads that hung from the entryway to a back room off the brothel’s main foyer. Danthres assumed it to be her office.
Lieutenant Torin ban Wyvald, Danthres’s partner, usually dealt with Suzett, as she’d been an informant of his going back several years. But he was testifying before the magistrate on the lothHaresh case, leaving Danthres to work this particular murder alone.
“I need you to give me the person whom you sent to sleep with Erot Vospoyt.”
Suzett winced. “I am truly sorry, Detective, but I cannot do that.”
Danthres gritted her teeth. She knew she should have just waited until tomorrow to let Torin handle this. “I don’t have time for games, Suzett. I’ve already spoken to Vospoyt’s family and his servants. They all said that Erot hired someone from your establishment to have sex with him, and they all heard the result of that request, as it echoed throughout the halls despite a Silence Spell.” Danthres didn’t add that Laula Vospoyt, the matriarch of the family, went on at some length with regards to the words she was going to have with the proprietor of the magick shop from whence she obtained said spell, as it did not do as advertised, and they all heard every “horrid copulation,” as she put it. Not to mention what happened at the end.
“I’m not denying that we provided Erot’s companionship, Detective.”
“Good. Because said companion left Erot’s body beaten and bloody and bruised and, finally, dead, after several heroic attempts made by a healer to avert that last bit. Your employee is a murderer, Suzett, and I am very much not interested in your attempts to protect him or her.”
At that last part, Suzett’s lips turned ever-so-slightly. “I’m afraid, Detective, that neither pronoun is appropriate. Erot was not interested in human companionship.” She looked away. “And I did warn him. In fact, I specifically requested that he sign a waiver.”
“A waiver?” This conversation had taken a turn Danthres had not anticipated. She hated performing interrogations where she didn’t know what to expect.
It turned out that Suzett wasn’t looking away out of embarrassment, but was instead peering through the beads. She then went back into the office, the beads clacking against each other as she displaced them.
Danthres followed her in. Suzett rummaged through assorted scrolls on her small desk until she found one.
As she handed it over to Danthres, Suzett said, “It’s very dangerous to try to have sex with a hobgoblin, but Erot is—was—a customer in very good standing, as are many members of the Vospoyt family. That standing is both why I was willing to accede to his rather unique request, and also why I insisted on the waiver. In fact—”
Holding up a gauntleted hand, Danthres said, “Stop!”
“Detective?”
“Can we go back to the first sentence?”
“When I asked what you could do for me?”
“Not that far, the part about how Erot’s companion was a damn hobgoblin!”
Suzett blinked. “You didn’t know?”
“No, I didn’t know! I’m fairly certain the rest of the family didn’t know, either.”
“Oh, dear.”
Holding up the waiver, Danthres said, “I need to hang onto this.”
“Of course. I anticipated that something like this might happen, and I have an additional copy for my own records.”
Danthres gritted her teeth again. “Of course. I also still need the hobgoblin.”
“And I still cannot provide it for you, Detective. Not,” she added quickly before Danthres could retort, “because I do not wish to, but because I no longer have possession of the creature. I rented it from a service. It was ensorcelled with a spell that would compel it to return here when its work was completed, and then the service retook possession of it.”
At this rate, Danthres would have no teeth left. “I will need the name and location of the service, please.”
As Suzett rummaged in the paperwork on her desk to secure that information for her, Danthres wondered how, exactly, she was going to explain to the Vospoyts that it was a hobgoblin, not a prostitute, who killed their son.
Maybe she’d wait until morning, let Torin do it...
Do Not Ask the Question if You Do Not Want the Answer
Lieutenant Manfred was finishing up paperwork on the robbery he and Lieutenant Kellan had closed when he heard voices entering the squadroom.
“Look, it’s not something I’m comfortable with,” said a female voice that Manfred identified as belonging to Lieutenant Aleta lothLathna.
“Why not?” That was Manfred’s partner Kellan. “C’mon, Aleta, it’s a reasonable question.”
As they entered the squadroom, Manfred looked up as the pair walked in, along with Aleta’s partner, the newly promoted Lieutenant Horran.
“He’s right,” Horran was saying. “I mean, what if we get some shitbrain who took a Strength Spell or something?”
“What’s going on?” Manfred asked.
Kellan looked over at him. “Oh, hey, Manfred, you’re still here? I thought you were finishing up the paperwork on the Coosk case?”
He held up a scroll. “Just needs you to sign it, partner.”
“Great!” Kellan came over to his desk and grabbed a quill.
As he affixed his signature to the scroll, Kellan said, “We’re tryin�
�� to get Aleta to admit to how she would put down a crazy perp.”
Manfred grinned. “You mean what fancy Shranlaseth technique she’d use, right?”
Aleta had moved over to her desk and sat down. “I’m sorry, Horran, Kellan, but I’m just not particularly comfortable with sharing these techniques. Besides, it’s not as if you could duplicate them.”
“Why the hell not?” Horran asked, sounding very offended.
“Because Shranlaseth training takes decades. It’s not something I can just show you how to do in a squadroom in five minutes.”
Holding up both hands, Horran said, “Look, I don’t need you to teach me or nothin’. I ain’t interested in becoming part of the elf secret police, y’know? I just wanna know how you’d do it. I mean, c’mon, we’re partners now, I wanna know whatcha can do.”
Aleta let out a long breath. “It depends on what you wish to do. Kellan, may I borrow you?”
Kellan shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”
He walked over to her desk as she got back to her feet. “If I just want to incapacitate him, this arm grip—”
“Ow!” Kellan cried out as Aleta grabbed his right arm.
Manfred winced as Aleta twisted his partner’s right arm behind his back.
“—will do the trick. Now if he’s still struggling, you do a kick to his instep—”
She picked up her right foot and kicked straight down onto Kellan’s left leg. Kellan screamed in agony as he collapsed onto the floor.
Aleta was still holding one arm, but Kellan was now clutching his left leg with the same-sided arm, and moaning incoherently.
“—and then he’ll collapse to the floor.” She knelt down, her knees resting on his side. “Kneeling down like this, he can’t move, at least in theory. Now if he really does have a Strength Spell, or if he just needs to be put down, then you need to just break his neck, which is usually pretty hard, but if you just grip the neck in the right place—”
“AAAAHHH—kkkkkkkkkk—” Kellan went limp, eyes shut.
“—it works.”
Horran looked on in horror. “What did you—?”
Before Manfred could say anything about his newly late partner, Captain Dru came out of his office.
“What the hell’s all the—” He looked at Aleta, who was now standing over Kellan’s prose form. “Oh, for— Dammit, Aleta, what did I tell you about killing your fellow detectives?”
Horran’s jaw was now drooping so far open it was practically on the floor. “What did she—it—he—”
Dru looked over at Horran in concern. “You okay, Horran?”
“What’s wrong?” Aleta asked.
“You just killed Kellan, for Wiate’s sake!”
Shrugging, Dru said, “Yeah, she does that a lot. We lose more lieutenants that way. That’s the problem with having ex-Shranlaseth around. On the other hand, makes it easier on the magistrate—she just kills the suspects, saves time.”
“I—it—he—”
And then Dru, Manfred, Aleta, and Kellan all burst out laughing.
Horran stared at each of them. “What’s—I don’t—”
Aleta held out a hand to help Kellan to his feet. “Very well done—the fall was particularly good, much better than last time.”
Manfred nodded. “Yeah, last time the fall didn’t really convince me.”
“What is wrong with you people?!” Horran shouted.
“What,” Dru said, “you didn’t think we really let Aleta go around murderin’ detectives, didja?”
“Besides,” Aleta said, “even I can’t snap a neck with my fingers. And I haven’t killed a suspect yet, despite what everyone seems to think.” That last was said with a glower at Manfred.
“Hey, I thought it was a reasonable question at the time,” Manfred said defensively.
“You pieces of shit,” Horran said.
Dru was grinning, however. “Aleta an’ I pulled this on Kellan, an’ then on Manfred, back when all three of ’em got promoted after Lord Albin died. You were next.”
Horran shook his head. “You scared the hell outta me, you shitbrains.”
Holding up both hands, Aleta said, “Mission accomplished, then.”
“Y’know, I thought this hazing shit was done with after I stopped bein’ a rookie.”
“Rookie guard, yeah,” Dru said, “but you’re a rookie detective now. Starts all over again.”
“Great.” Horran went to his desk, snatched off his earth-colored cloak petulantly, and sat angrily down, dropping his cloak on the floor. Manfred wondered if he was considering abandoning it and going back to day-shift guard patrol in Mermaid Precinct.
Manfred got up from his desk to file the paperwork, chuckling to himself. He’d been just as pissed when Dru, Aleta, and Kellan had pulled it on him, but by the time the shift had ended, he’d been laughing his ass off with the others when they recounted the story at the Old Ball and Chain. He was pretty sure Horran would as well.
And he’d help sell it to the next rookie, too…
Gan Brightblade and the Swamp of Kormak
To look at Gan Brightblade and Bogg, as they stood on the edge of the swamp, you would not imagine them to be friends.
While both were human and male and muscular, the resemblance ended there. Gan was tall and well groomed, dressed in light chainmail. Bogg wore only a loincloth and boots, as well as a back harness for his sword.
“What the hell’re we doin’ here, Gan?” Bogg asked. He slapped his arm, where a mosquito had landed. “Where is here, anyhow?”
“This is the Castle Aviva,” Gan said.
“This is a damned swamp.”
“Yes,” Gan said gravely, “the castle has long stood in part due to being surrounded by the fearsome Swamp of Kormak. Once, it was home to mighty warlords and evil wizards.”
“‘Once’? So not now?”
“Er, no,” Gan said.
“So why do I give a shit?” Bogg leaned against one of the many large trees that surrounded the swamp, camouflaging the castle and its natural moat.
“I suppose you should not. But now it is the stronghold of the gang of brigands known as the Roffmin Brigade.”
“Those’re the shit-suckers who kidnap people, right?”
Gan nodded. “And they have taken Mari, Nari, and Genero.”
“How the hell’d that happen?” Mari and Nari were halfing twins, and also thieves, while Genero was a priest of Temisa. The five of them, along with the elven sorcerer Olthar lothSirhans and the dwarven general Ubàrlig, had fought against some of the mightiest foes in all Flingaria.
So Bogg found it hard to believe that they were just kidnapped.
“I’m afraid I cannot speak to that. All I’m aware of is that they were taken. Olthar and Ubàrlig are unavailable, so it is left to you and I to rescue them.”
“Why’d they kidnap ’em, anyhow?”
“Their usual method is to offer a ransom. In this case, it was made to the bishopric in Velessa. However, the Temisans prefer not to ransom their priests, so it is left to us to rescue them.”
“So what’re we waitin’ for?” Pushing himself off the tree, Bogg started to move toward the swamp.
But Gan held him back. “Hold, my friend. The reason why this castle has been such a stronghold for so long is because of the terrors that lurk beneath the swamp. There are no bridges that traverse it, and the muck itself is filled with perils to chill the soul! There are dragon turtles and piranhas, quippers and chuuls. It will take all of our considerable skill to traverse this swamp—but it shall be worth it! For Genero, Mari, and Nari are our comrades in blood, and they must be rescued! I have been preparing for this encounter since I first heard the news, and while I’d hoped that Olthar and Ubàrlig would join us as well, I’m sure that— Bogg, what are you doing?”
While Gan had been going on, Bogg had been looking at the tree he’d been leaning against. Specifically, he was looking up at the trunk, which extended very far into the sky, and which was undecorate
d by leaves, despite it being a warm summer day. “This thing’s dead. And that means it’d be pretty easy for a coupla strong guys like you ’n’ me to knock over.”
“To what end?”
“You said there wasn’t a bridge. Let’s you an’ me make one.”
Gan stared at his friend for several seconds. He’d been steeling himself for the ordeal of facing the aquatic creatures that lurked in the Kormak Swamp for days now. So it took him the better part of a minute to readjust himself to the realization that, if Bogg was right—and while the barbarian from the north was no scholar, he knew the ways of destruction—they could turn this dead tree into a bridge that would take them past all the perils of the swamp.
The two humans stood on the side of the dead tree that faced away from the swamp and pushed with all their might. Sinews formed by the hard life of those in the north and by a lifetime of armed conflict eventually forced the tree’s dried-up roots to abandon their purchase in the ground.
The massive tree fell into the swamp with a mighty squelch. Gan and Bogg saw that the top of the tree was brushing against the castle’s front door.
Bogg grinned, showing very few teeth. “Let’s go get the stupid priest an’ the idiot twins outta hock, Gan.”
Clapping his barbarian friend on the back, Gan said, “So it shall be, my friend—so it shall be!”
The Streak
“So do we have any idea who this guy is?” Lieutenant Arn Kellan asked.
Jared, the guard assigned to Dragon Precinct who’d discovered the dead body in the house, said, “Besides dead? No. Ain’t the owner, though. Lady who called us ’cause’a the smell said he ain’t the owner.”
Kellan’s partner, Lieutenant Manfred, asked, “Does this witness know who the owner is?”
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