by Robert Bevan
“It ain't rubbish. I'm telling you the truth.”
“Ye would do well, though, not to invoke the names of the gods when ye speak such madness.”
“I swear by the New God that what I'm saying is true! If I was lying to you, if I was even capable of lying, then why would I have brought up the scorpion babies in the first place?”
“I be a humble ship captain. Ailments of the mind be not me field of expertise. Mayhap ye swallowed the seed of too many a madman, or put yer cock inside too many a diseased whore's –” Shrieks and screams in the distance cut off Captain Longfellow's list of potential diagnoses. “What in the watery depths?” He peered past Randy toward the inner harbor. “Mercy of the gods! I told ye not to be bringing that cursed beast aboard me ship again!”
Randy looked back to find Basil moving cautiously toward him on the pier.
“Sorry we're late,” Denise called out. “I was lookin' for Pier 12, and then I remembered I can't read.”
“I thought ye said that thing be dead,” said Captain Longfellow suspiciously, like he'd just caught Randy in a lie.
“He was dead,” Randy replied. “We was all rewarded when we returned the Eye of Rasha. The New God sent him back for me as my Special Mount.” In case his word as a paladin wasn't enough for the captain, he followed with a demonstration. “Thank you, Basil. You can go on back to the celestial planes now. I'll call for you next time I need you.”
Basil let out a parting groan, then vanished.
“Fuck!” cried Denise as she fell hard on the wooden boards.
Randy grimaced with horror at the thought that his petty desire to show off to Captain Longfellow may have brought harm to Denise's unborn children, then he relaxed when he remembered they were under the gods' protection.
Jay had been riding closer to ground level, and managed to stay on his feet when Basil disappeared.
“So ye weren't pulling me cock about earning favors from the gods, was ye?” said Captain Longfellow.
“No, sir. I was not.”
“Far be it from me to deny passage to those favored by the gods. Alexei, extend the plank and let these three aboard.”
Randy had been wondering if Captain Longfellow's first mate, with whom Randy had shared a mutual attraction on his last trip on the Maiden's Voyage, was still part of the crew. It seemed odd that he hadn't shown himself, and Randy thought he might have moved on to command his own ship or something. Deeper down in his mind, he feared that Alexei might have been killed by pirates or eaten by sharks, or succumbed to one of the multitudes of possible dangers of a life at sea. As hard as he'd been keeping those darker thoughts suppressed, he was relieved to see Alexei's face when he extended the ship's boarding plank.
Randy gave him a wave and a big grin, but the smile and wave Alexei returned were much more subdued, like he was only doing it to get Randy to stop.
Unsure what to make of that, Randy put his hand down and focused on assisting Denise across the narrow plank and onto the ship.
“Welcome back,” said Captain Longfellow. “Ye two I remember from our last journey together.” He turned to Jay. “And ye must be African.”
Jay, who had been gazing around curiously at the ship and its crew, now honed in directly at Captain Longfellow. “'The fuck did you say?”
“This is Jay,” Randy said to the captain.
“Do me memory deceive me, or did ye not say he was called African Manerican, or some other such mouthful of gibberish.”
“His name is Jay. I said he was African American, in reference to his race.”
“And why did you feel the need to bring that up?” asked Jay. “Can a brother not ride a boat in this world?”
“No, I mean yes. I was just –”
“Racial profilin' ain't cool, Randy,” said Denise, scooping in Jay for a hug around the waist. “We's all God's children, after all.”
“But I didn't –”
“Enough with yer gabbersmacking!” demanded Captain Longfellow. “Me eyes be not so far gone as to not know an elf when they see one. We've wasted enough time as it is. Alexei, show these men to their quarters, and the rest of ye get this semen-soaked bucket out to sea!”
“Sorry you're on the top tier,” said Alexei after they'd climbed three ladders. Denise was still working on the first one, and Jay was stuck behind her. “It seems cruel to make an expecting woman climb all this way, but the captain recalled that she had caused some trouble during the last trip, and thought that all the climbing involved to go to and from her room might encourage her to stay in there as long as possible.”
“I can't say I fault him for that. Denise can be quite a handful. But I don't reckon she'll cause too much trouble on this trip.” Randy was still getting a sense of unease from Alexei, and wanted to clear the air between them sooner rather than later. “Hey, Alexei. I couldn't help but notice you ain't seemed too happy to see me. Is it something I done?”
Alexei shrugged. “You left.”
“I had to leave. You know that. Same as you had to stay. We both got people who's counting on us.”
“You didn't have to leave, and I didn't have to stay. Each of us is free to choose whatever path we want to follow. Both of us made that choice when our ships parted ways.”
Randy couldn't find fault in what he said. “That's true. But then why are you acting so prickly about it?”
Alexei sighed. “Because you came back. I like you, Randy. You're sweet and funny and brave and gentle. But I can't have you popping in and out of my life like I'm your sea whore.”
“I ain't never thought about you like that! I'm on this boat for the same reason I was last time. To get from one place to another. It ain't got nothin' to do with you.” That last part sounded a lot harsher than Randy had meant it to. “I'm sorry, Alexei. That came out wrong.”
“It's better that you're honest about it. I will do you the same courtesy. I have become involved in an exclusive relationship with another member of the crew.”
“That's terrific,” said Randy. “I'm real happy for you.”
“Thank you,” Alexei said curtly. “Linnus and I are very happy together.” He appeared to be trying to read Randy's reaction, but Randy wasn't sure what kind of reaction he was hoping for.
“Far out,” was all he could think to say.
“Linnus has trained as a blacksmith's apprentice. When we gather enough coin and find a port we want to settle down in, he's going to open his own shop.”
Randy was beginning to think he may have dodged a bullet with Alexei. “That sounds real nice. I wish you both the best of luck with that, and a lifetime of happiness together.” He hoped this wasn't going to go on much longer. He was running out of generic well-wishing phrases.
“We're already very happy together.”
“Yes, you mentioned that.”
“Woowee!” said Denise as she climbed up onto their tier. “Would you look at the view from up here? Look at all them stars? Y'all ever seen so many stars before?”
Randy looked up, but kept peripherally aware of Alexei as he slunk away and down the ladder. “No, I don't reckon I have.” He'd never been more grateful for Denise showing up.
Chapter 33
“There you are,” said Chaz, almost running into him as Julian hurried out of the alley.
“What are you doing out here?” said Julian. “I told you to wait in the lobby.”
“You were taking forever. I thought we might head straight to the Mortar & Pestle to get ready for my show. Maybe test the acoustics, see if we might be able to work out some background effects, go over the –”
“There's been a change of plans.” Julian pulled Chaz into the alley, then produced the die from his turban.”
Chaz took the die from him and held it up to the sun. “Holy shit! How did you... When did you...”
“Ravenus smuggled it out in his ass.”
“Fucking hell, man!” said Chaz, dropping the die like he'd never touched poo before.
“
Be careful!” Julian used his foot to keep it from rolling out onto the street. He picked it up and tucked it back into his turban. “We can't risk losing this again!”
“Sorry. Maybe give a guy some warning before you hand him something that's been up your bird's ass. Can we move it along now? I'm a little nervous, and I want to acclimatize myself to the room.”
“Chaz!” said Julian. “Forget about the fucking show. We just ripped off a wizard. If Fazul discovers his prized magical trinket is missing, he won't have a long list of suspects to track down, and he knows exactly where to find us.”
“He's not going to automatically assume we stole it. He swept all that shit into his bag really quickly when the food showed up. Who's to say he didn't accidentally drop it on the floor? I bet a bit of Diplomacy could plant that seed of doubt in his head.”
Julian shook his head. “Way too risky. And for what? So you can feed your already over-inflated ego? No. We need to get this die back to the others right now.”
“Have you forgotten where we are?” said Chaz. “How are we supposed to get off this island?”
“The same way we got on it. I'll use a Fly spell.”
“That will just put us back down at some random spot in the desert.”
“Oh yeah.” Julian bit his lower lip. “Maybe we could ask Professor Goosewaddle. If we show him we've got the die, and explain that –”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” said Chaz. “He's the one who left us down there to die in the desert because we kept pestering him for free teleports!”
Julian knew Chaz was right. “Even if we can't make it there ourselves, we should at least send the die. Maybe I'll stick it back inside Ravenus's cloaca and send him off on a solo mission to find the others.”
“I beg your pardon, sir. But it is extremely uncomfortable for me to fly in that condition.”
“I've got a better idea,” said Chaz. “We're on an island full of wizards. We could simply pay one of them to take us wherever we want to go.”
“And where are we supposed to get the money for that?”
Chaz grinned and tapped his lute case.
Julian sighed. “Shit.”
The Mortar & Pestle was an entirely different place when they arrived. The dusty air was filled with the sounds of banging hammers and orders barked in some unfamiliar language. A small army of goblins scurried about, expanding the bar, removing furniture, and constructing a proper stage. They'd even knocked out most of the wall that separated the Mortar & Pestle from the high-end spell components shop next door.
“Look at this fucking place!” said Chaz.
“Look at you!” said Lodor, grinning from behind his newly expanded bar next to a thin, well-dressed middle-aged human man. “You look amazing!”
Chaz tossed his hair. “Thank you very much.”
“I'm glad you showed up early. I wanted to put your name on the marquis, but I forgot what it was.”
“RazzmaChaz.”
Lodor clapped his hands together. “I love it!” He pointed at one of the goblins working on his bar. “You there. Are you literate?”
The goblin nodded.
“Good. Go outside and paint Razzmachaz on the marquis in big bold letters.”
The goblin dropped the boards he was carrying and scampered past Julian and Chaz and out the front door.
Lodor beckoned Chaz over with a wave. “Come meet my new business partner. This is Faros. He owns the spell components store next door. Or rather, the former spell components store. We worked out a deal to expand the place, and he's half owner of the Mortar & Pestle now.”
Chaz offered his hand to shake. “I'm very pleased to meet you, sir.”
Faros stared at Chaz's hand curiously, then touched it with one finger. “Likewise. I heard you singing this morning through the wall. I was touched.”
Julian cleared his throat.
“Oh yeah,” said Chaz. “I'd like to introduce you to my manager, Julian.”
Lodor eyed Julian suspiciously. “Aren't you that same elf who showed up out of nowhere when he started playing?”
“That's right,” said Julian. “I was his first fan, and now I have the honor of being his manager.”
Lodor leaned over the bar and spoke directly to Chaz. “What do you want to get mixed up with a guy like this for? He shows up out of nowhere and offers you nothing in return for taking a cut of your pay. Why don't you let me be your manager instead. Have I not been generous to you so far? Why let this middleman fleece you out of your hard-earned money?”
Chaz looked back at Julian as if to challenge him to argue Lodor's point.
Julian took a step toward the bar and turned on his Diplomacy. “Part of my job as manager is to make my client, Mr. RazzmaChaz, at the very least enough money on top of what he's already making to justify my own modest percentage.”
“And what are you going to do for him that I can't? Do you know how much I paid him this morning?”
“I do,” said Julian. “And tonight you're going to triple it.”
“You must be out of your mind. Who do you think you are coming into my bar and making such demands. Only this very morning you couldn't afford more than three pints of well sludge. I paid him too much this morning as it was.” He turned to Chaz. “No offense, lad. You're a fine singer, but you're not the New God, bringing folks back from the dead, are you? This elf is misleading you. Entertainers simply don't get paid the kind of wages he's promising. I had a bit of drink in me when I paid you this morning. That's five times what I'd pay Danzo the Dancing Juggler.”
Julian smiled. “Then perhaps you should ask Danzo the Dancing Juggler to perform here instead.”
Lodor took a deep breath. “You're being unreasonable.”
“I'm being exceptionally reasonable,” said Julian. “You and I both know that RazzmaChaz brought you all those new customers this morning, and that you were only limited by the space in your venue and your capacity to fill drinks fast enough. You've now got at least three times as much space, and I think it's fair to assume that you've hired extra help.”
“But all that costs money,” Lodor argued. “Why should he take a proportionally bigger cut when I'm the one who laid down all the investment?”
“Because I'm not giving you a choice. You need us, you see? We don't need you. Even now that you've expanded the place, there are much larger venues than this shithole over on the other end of the strip. Do you honestly believe that RazzmaChaz can't easily fill one of those? This end of the strip will be a virtual ghost town every night he plays. I'm trying to do you a favor here. You can either accept my terms, or we walk.”
Lodor turned to Faros, who gave him a nod.
“Very well. We accept your terms.”
Curious as to how far he could push his luck, Julian prodded a little further. “I don't suppose it would be a problem to pay half upfront, as a show of good faith.”
Lodor sighed. “Fine.” He ducked down behind the bar, and Julian could hear the jingle of coins being counted into a pouch. “Here,” he said when he stood back up and plunked the bag down on the bar. “You can count it if you like.”
Short of making Lodor lick his balls while his children watched, Julian wasn't sure how much further he could push him. He winked at Chaz. “And that's why you need a manager.”
He was feeling better about their situation now that he had a sizable chunk of coin. He'd chat up a few wizards during the early part of the show and nail down a price on an emergency Teleport spell. If anything went wrong, he and Chaz could be out of there in the blink of an eye.
His turban was starting to feel uncomfortably hot and heavy on his head, and he'd feel a lot less ridiculous not wearing it. Turning slightly so Lodor and Faros wouldn't be able to see it, he pulled the die out and slipped it into his pocket before unraveling the turban.
“This had better be a good show,” Lodor warned Chaz.
Chaz opened his mouth to speak, but a higher-pitched voice spoke instead, where a
red-robed halfling materialized sitting on a stool at the end of the bar.
“Oh, I can assure you. It will be.”
“What are you doing in here?” demanded Lodor grumpily. “We've not yet opened for business.”
“I'm not here for a drink.”
“Then maybe you should go somewhere el–”
The halfling drew a wand from under his robe and unleashed a barrage of blue lightning, which engulfed Lodor until his skin started to char.
“JESUS CHRIST!” cried Chaz.
When the lightning ceased, Lodor collapsed to a sizzling heap on the floor next to a very surprised-looking Faros.
“Are you mad?” said Faros. “Know you the penalty for wielding offensive magic against a fellow wizard on the Crescent Sha–” He, too, found himself on the wrong end of the little man's wand.
Julian couldn't bear to watch. Looking toward the exit, he found the door closed, and most of the goblin construction staff standing guard in front of it and grinning at him. He didn't know what was going on exactly, but he had a strong suspicion that they were in some deep shit.
“Who are you?” asked Julian.
The halfling smiled. “Around here, folks call me Wister.”
Julian didn't see the point of giving a region-specific name, but let it go in order to move the hostage situation forward. “What do you want?”
“Nothing much,” said Wister, hopping down from the bar. “Just that little treasure of yours.”
Was this a simple mugging? Had this little asshole just murdered two people in cold blood for a sack of gold? Julian understood that people were capable of doing terrible things for money, but something didn't add up. If this halfling was powerful enough to blast the shit out of two people with Lightning Bolts, he would surely be capable of making money by more conventional (and less violent) means. And even if he just really liked murdering people for cash, there were safer places to go on a crime spree than the Crescent Shadow. But all things considered, Julian felt that if he could end this by simply handing over his gold, they'd be coming out ahead. After all, Chaz had already proven that he could draw a crowd. They could take the show to other venues, just as he'd threatened to do.