“Could I wield a couple of giant weapons?” I had a vision of myself walking around with a pair of the pikes like the City Guard used, sticking up above my head like reverse stilts.
Now I was quivering with excitement too. I tried the gloves on, and sure enough, they shrank down to fit my hands like a second skin. The magic coiled around my fingers and sank into my palms, seamlessly integrating with my flowing ki. Experimentally, I pulled out one of my daggers, and the magic wrapped around it too; extending my sense of self from the hilt all the way out to the razor edge, just as if my daggers were natural extensions of my own body.
I launched into Sphinx Ascending, still holding my daggers, and found they fit me as easily as claws on a cat. I jumped and danced through the air, stabbing instead of punching, and using a real knife for the knife-hand strikes. At the end of the kata I jumped, up and up, my arms out, and at the apex of the jump I brought them together and struck...
...a beam on the ceiling, where I hung effortlessly from my pinned daggers. Over the edge of the bookshelf I could just see Ramsey and Fast Eddie.
“...sure you don’t want to put it towards a payment instead?” The half-demon was counting out piles of gold coins on the counter in exchange for five of the six stones.
“I told you, these are Sam’s and it’s her money.” Ramsey put the last stone in his pocket.
“I’m sure your girlfriend would loan it to you.”
“She’s n—look, she doesn’t know.”
I frowned, and placed my feet on the beam, pulling my daggers free of the ceiling and dropping down. Quietly, I padded around the bookshelf, and paused, just out of sight.
“Pockets, I like you.” Fast Eddie continued. “Which is why I haven’t sold the contract yet. But business is business, and sooner or later I’m going to have to turn it over to a collection agency.”
“Turn what over to a collection agency?” I asked, stepping into sight. Ramsey’s gaze snapped over to me, looking... not so much guilty, as haunted.
“Nothing.” he growled.
“We have a lot of money.” I insisted, looking at the piles of coins on the counter. “If Ramsey’s in some kind of debt, I’ll take care of it.”
“No,” Ramsey insisted right back, “you won’t. And this wouldn’t take care of it anyway.”
“Take care of what?” Ramsey’s closed cageyness now had me officially worried. “Look,” I turned to Fast Eddie, “we need some cash—”
“—er, these gloves,” Fast Eddie separated a pile of coins and transferred them back to the register, while I turned back to Ramsey, “and... what is it you’re so worried about that we can’t spare some money for?”
Ramsey said nothing, just glared at me like he was trying to think of a way to for this conversation to drop into a hole in the earth and disappear forever.
“His soul, of course.” remarked Fast Eddie, casually. He pulled a lever on the side of the register, making a ringing noise and producing a receipt. “And he’s right. You’re going to need a lot more than this to get it back.”
Chapter Eleven
Ramsey actually had to drag me out of the shop before I took my daggers to Fast Eddie for a pointed and in depth conversation about what he took from my friend and how he was going to return it.
“It’s none of your business!” he yelled at me, shoving the bag of coins into my arms, which of course he remembered to grab.
“Oh, but it’s the business of some demon?”
“Yes! No! I mean, it is now! And it’s not that simple!”
“A soul shouldn’t be business at all! I’m your friend and I care about you and if somebody took something from you I’m damn well going to go take it back!”
“You can’t.”
“Oh?” I said, low and dangerous. “Wanna bet?”
“You can’t go take it back because Fast Eddie didn’t take it to begin with!” Ramsey was shaking now, his fists balled up at his sides. “I sold it, ok? Of my own free will and of my own initiative and all that fine print I signed and everything!”
I felt like someone had just punched me in the stomach. “What?” I asked, not understanding. “Why?”
“Because I was young and stupid!” Ramsey deliberately unclenched his fists, trying to calm down. “And I’d just come to Triport and I didn’t know anybody and it was cold and I was hungry...” he folded his arms across his chest and wouldn’t look at me. “...and I thought, maybe if people just liked me, I could have a friend and things wouldn’t be so bad...”
“But...” I grasped for understanding, too many questions bubbling up in my mind, so I went after the most impossible one first. “How could you possibly think no one would like you?”
At that he just stared at me for a moment, and then let out an incredulous huff that was almost a laugh. “You really mean it, don’t you?” Something came across his face then, some combination of tenderness and wonder, as if he were being offered a gift which couldn’t possibly be real. “Well...” He had finally stopped shaking. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“So you don’t have a soul? Are you like,” I didn’t want to say the words, but I made myself anyway, “some kind of undead?”
“No, of course not! I might have been young and stupid, but I really did read the fine print. It could have been worse. Technically my contract isn’t due until I’m dead. For now I get to walk around with my soul inside my body like any normal person, and I can benefit from divine healing and all that, and I have the rest of my life to try and pay off the contract and own my soul outright.”
“Ok.” I thought about this. “How much do you owe?”
“Uhh, with interest and everything?”
“Yeah.”
“Like, the total amount?”
“However much we need to make to walk in and pay everything off!”
“Err...” he was avoiding eye contact again. “About sixty thousand gold.”
“What? What did you do with sixty thousand gold pieces? How are you not filthy rich right now?”
“I didn’t get money out of the deal! I got... a book. How to Gain Friends and Persuade People. Volume two.”
“Hold on, stat tomes are worth that kind of money?”
“Why?” Ramsey asked.
“Because Keenfang has a library of them. I read a couple before he... while I was down there.” Thoughts of the vampire made my skin crawl all over again, and I hunched, remembering I was in hiding. “Maybe Fast Eddie would take one in place of gold.”
“Yeah, maybe.” His eye took on a mischievous twinkle. “Unless we wanted to read it instead!”
“I’m serious! We’ve got to get your soul out of hock!” I started walking. I didn’t necessarily think anyone was following us, but it was always better to be a moving target.
“Look, Sam... It’s fine. I mean, yes of course you’re right, but I have the rest of my life to worry about it, and I’m not sorry. I guess I should be, but the book really did make a difference, and anyway, you like me for it.”
“I like you anyway!” I declared hotly.
“Really?” He had that look in his face again, the tenderness and wonder.
“Yes.” I answered, quietly.
“Then,” he swallowed, and stopped walking. “Would you go out with me?”
I stopped walking too, my brain refusing to process the words. “What?”
“Go out. With me. Like, not for dinner, I guess, ‘cause Isha cooks better than anyone else anyway, but we could go, I dunno...
dancing!”
“Dancing?” My heart was beating in my chest. Ramsey looked terrified too.
“Yeah! I bet you’d be an amazing dancer! Fast Eddie called you my girlfriend, and I told him you weren’t, but I kinda wish I could say you were, and I’m not saying you have to be, not yet anyway, but maybe we could dance for a while and you could try out the idea and then if you liked it...” he stopped babbling, likely because he ran out of breath rather than words.
My mouth was completely dry. Dancing. With Ramsey. With his hazel eyes and his nice shoulders, with his easy smile and his determination that no one should be alone and friendless in the big city.
“I...” I stammered. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to be seen together.”
Now it was his turn to look like he got punched in the stomach. “Why not? Is it the soul thing?” He looked angry now. “Sam, I’m not some kind of monster!”
“I didn’t say that! It’s not you! I’m supposed to be hiding!”
“I don’t care!”
“Well I do, because people keep getting hurt around me, and maybe dying, and it’s... it’s not safe to be my friend right now!”
He stepped back, hurt. “Is that really what this is about?”
“Yes! Look, after the trial, maybe... I won’t be such a liability.”
He had a grim look on his face now. “Fine, if that’s what you think.” I moved forward to try and grab his hand, or make amends, or something, but he turned and walked the other way. “After the trial, then.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to still shivers that had nothing to do with the wind. I think I screwed that up.
What with our argument, Ramsey hadn’t told me where he thought I might find a lawyer, so I made my way down to Miner’s Square and found Hellena instead. One of the coins from my bag paid for a big mug of an extra creamy, double espresso’d confection piled high with foam and sugar, with which I shamelessly bribed my way into first place in the line of her petitioners. She was in her usual spot along the wall, not sun-warmed today, but chilly and cool.
“Looking for work?” she asked after a nice long sip. “The City Guard could use you on a few final expeditions before the monsoons start.”
“They haven’t started yet?” I looked up at the grey and perpetually drizzling sky.
“Ha, this little bit o’ spit? No, just wait until we get a proper storm, and you’ll see what we’ve got all those sewers and drains for. Almost done clearing ‘em out, too, thanks to your help.”
I nodded absently. “Actually, I came to ask you about lawyers.”
“Soulless scum sucking rats.” she observed, taking a sip of coffee. “What about ‘em?”
I told her about the trial and how I was something called subpoenaed, and how I didn’t want Isha to get in trouble but I didn’t know enough about the laws of Triport to be of any use.
“I just don’t want to say the wrong thing.” I took a breath. “So I was thinking, you guys must deal with the law all the time. Since you have to prosecute bad guys and stuff, like you told me about with the goblins.”
“Aye, that we do. But the City Guard has its own lawyers that we send in to do battle in the courts. They’re called ‘district attorneys’, which are like soulless scum sucking rats, only at least they’re on our side.”
“Do you think maybe one of them could be on my side for a while?”
“Sorry, Sam, but they only work for the city, so as to not create a conflict of interest.”
“Oh.” I thought about this. “Who do the bad guys have?”
“Their own lawyers. There’s a bunch of firms who will represent anybody. Some of them are better than others.”
I thought about this some more.
“So, when it comes to courtroom battles, which firm does your district attorney hate the most?”
Hel grinned at me.
[Reputation1 check (City Guard): Success]
“If I were you, and money was no object, I’d go talk to Gaman and Co.”
Hel gave me directions, and I followed them uptown, looking eventually for a wide street that formed the border between Upper Temple Hill and the Arcane District. On the way I passed the west edge of the docks, and then a familiar street in the old fish market area. UBBBF, hung the banner at the far end. On a whim, I turned my feet down the street and towards the dojo.
Dwade opened the door. “Welcome-to-Uncle-Brandon’s-Black-Belt-Factory-home-of-the-New—holy cow, Sam?!”
“Hush!” I hissed at him. “I’m in hiding!”
“Oh, right!” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Very ninja! Come on in!”
Dwade hustled me over to a small storeroom, where he insisted on hearing all about my escape from the dojo and subsequent demise of the female vampire.
“That’s awesome! I mean, I’m glad you’re not hurt. Are you here to start training again?”
“No, not today. I’ve got some other stuff to take care of first. Actually, I stopped by to apologize for the damage to the dojo. And to pay for it. I have money now!”
Dwade just kind of blinked at me for a minute, and then said, “Huh. Well that’s a first. Umm, I’m going to have to ask Master Brandon, I don’t know how much any of the repairs cost.”
Getting into the spirit of things, we snuck unseen down the hallways to Master Brandon’s office, which was nearly as tiny and just as cramped as the storeroom. For a wonder, the Grandmaster was in and sitting at his desk, ticking things off a long list with great concentration. He looked up when he saw us and his eyes twinkled as he recognized me.
“Ms. Samiel!” He boomed. “Welcome back!”
“Careful!” Dwade shushed. “She’s, like, undercover!”
“Well then, well then!” He settled back in his chair. “What brings you back to the dojo?”
“I, uh, I’m sorry for what happened when I left. And I’d like to pay for the damages.”
“There’s no need for that.” He told me gently. “No one holds you responsible for the actions of a bunch of hooligan undead. And I will not accept payment that insinuates an assignment of blame. It’s bad karma.”
“Yes, but it still wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t here!”
Master Brandon said nothing. I looked over at Dwade, but he looked as confused as I was.
“Ok.” I finally allowed. “In that case, I would like to make a donation to the dojo. Of my own free will and everything, to, uh, further the education of poor students like myself who can’t always afford it. And, uh, to fix up any holes in the walls caused by errant halflings, and to, uhh, keep everybody warm.”
The twinkle in Master Brandon’s eyes grew brighter and brighter as I spoke, and eventually overflowed in a hearty bellow of laughter.
[Reputation Points earned: 15 (Followers of the Way)]
I paid a lump sum of money that I figured was more than it costs to fix a wall and a training dummy, and Master Brandon gave me a receipt.
“And now,” he announced, “I have something for you, which you left here when you ran off.”
“I didn’t run o—” I bit my tongue at his teasing. “Ok, what?”
“Wait right there.”
Master Brandon got up and pulled some old staves away from a bundle in the corner, uncovering a large iron cauldron.
I stared, mystified, as he opened the lid, peered at the liquid inside, and muttered to himself, “No, no, not green. Where did I put the rest of them...”
Dwade gave a little gasp, but only grinned and refused to answer my perplexed look.
Finally Master Brandon pulled out a bottle, much like the ones the colored hair fairies came in, popped the cork and overturned it above the cauldron. Nothing came out.
“Come on!” he admonished the bottle. “Get out of there, you!” He thumped
the bottom of the bottle firmly with his free hand, and eventually a fairy crawled out, grumbling in a high, twinkly voice, shook its fist at Master Brandon, and then gracefully put its hands together and dived into the pot. Bright sparkles erupted, and the green liquid turned lighter.
Master Brandon turned back and came to stand formally in front of me in Waiting Stance. I took up Waiting Stance too, and Master Brandon directed Dwade to come and stand next to him.
“Ms. Samiel!” He boomed at me once again. “Before many witnesses, you have taken your first steps along the Four Element Pathway! You have demonstrated a beginning understanding of the elemental stances, and mastered the very unusual first form of Wind Stance. You have behaved with honor and respect for everyone within this school, and shown fearlessness and control in breaking a wooden board with your own limbs!”
“Actually, she broke a whole wall.” Dwade muttered, but flushed and was quiet at Master Brandon’s glare.
“It is hereby my honor to recognize your newfound control of ki with this yellow belt, the first color of many.” He bowed deeply at me, and I bowed back, dumbstruck, and trying to get all choked up just because someone was randomly nice to me. “Ms. Samiel, may I have your belt?”
I unknotted it and handed it to him. His formality took a hit as he held it up to the light and asked, “Ms. Sam! What have I told you about respecting your belt?”
“I have been!” I protested. “I never throw it on the floor, I mean, except when I get thrown on the floor, and I always fold it up nice when I take it off, and I haven’t washed it!” I didn’t mention the one time after the sea cave adventure, when I had lost the argument with Marissa about whether or not ‘eau-de-jellyfish’ counted as a belt color, and it had gotten a good soaking in bleach water. “Really. My belt’s in very good shape.” I insisted. “You should see the other guy.”
Master Brandon harrumphed, dunked my belt into the cauldron, and pulled it out perfectly dry and now a brilliant new yellow, the color of the sun. He knelt down and tied it back around my waist, and then bowed once more. “May the Way guide you to wisdom.”
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