by Raymond Cain
“A brothel,” Flynn muttered under his breath. “Interesting.”
“Of course you’d say that,” Kylara said, rolling her eyes. “Keep your heads out of sight. She’ll be done soon.”
The others did as Kylara suggested and the girl finished cleaning the sheets. She returned to the building and hung the sheets from hooks along the wall.
“Come on,” Kylara said, waving for them to follow her lead.
They arrived at the building and Kylara took one of the sheets from its hook. She draped it around herself like a cloak.
“Gross,” Lycia said. “Don’t you know what’s on that?”
Kylara shrugged. “No worse than what we just walked through.”
“Yes, it is worse,” Lycia said. “I’m not putting that on.”
“A fine choice,” Kylara said, handing sheets to Flynn and Tasker. “Feel free to tour the city appearing as you are.”
Flynn cringed as he took a sheet from Kylara. It was moist from the night’s activities, and his revulsion nearly made him vomit again as he wrapped it around himself. After some hesitation, Tasker covered himself and Lycia grudgingly draped a sheet around her head and shoulders as well. Her cheeks puffed out in disgust and she looked as though she were about to pop at any moment.
Flynn noticed a nearby patrol of azuran soldiers in chain mail armor scouting along the edge of the lake. With maces in hand, they scanned the water and nearby buildings.
“Into the brothel, quick!” Flynn said.
Lycia scoffed. “Really, Flynn, now is hardly the time. . .”
“Just do it!” Flynn said, pushing her toward the door.
Finally noticing the patrol, the others pushed their way into the brothel. Flynn hoped mightily that it would be safe and quiet inside. It wasn’t.
The building was bursting with clients and prostitutes. Dozens of chambers, walled off from each other by silken, translucent sheets, were occupied by pipe-smoking men and scantily-clad women. The smoke had an inebriating effect on Flynn and he covered his mouth with the sheet, gagging from its stench. No amount of washing could remove the smell of what the material had been through.
To their right was a stone door, the only door in the building’s interior as far as Flynn could tell, and he turned the latch. It was locked. He discretely removed a dagger from his swordbelt and wedged it between the door and the doorjamb. The door popped open and the four companions hurried inside.
There were two azurans in the room, a man wearing fine velvet clothing and a provocatively-dressed woman. The man sported a thick gold ring on every finger and a jeweled longsword hung at his waist. The woman wore the flimsy garb of a prostitute and she sat at a table covered in creams and powders. She busily dabbed white powder to cover up a bruise, and did not bother to turn around. Silky outfits and veils hung from hooks on the wall.
“Hey!” the azuran man said, drawing his sword. The moment the sword was pulled from its scabbard, Kylara stepped forward, swept it aside with one stave and caved in his skull with the other. She used her weapons to catch him under the armpits as he collapsed, and she lowered him quietly to the ground.
The azuran woman looked at them, wide-eyed and even more pale than before. “I-I-I won’t say anything, I promise.”
“I know you won’t,” Kylara said, coldly. “For much the same reason he won’t.” She struck the girl in the back of the head, rendering her unconscious.
“What did you do that for?” Lycia accused, and both of her rings glowed.
“You know why,” Kylara replied. “So don’t act as though you’re more righteous because I’m willing to do what’s necessary for us to escape. She’ll wake up in an hour or two.”
“Enough, you two,” Flynn said. He walked back to the door. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
Kylara sniffed, derisively. “I’m sure you will.”
“For danger,” Flynn clarified. “Mostly.” He opened the door a crack and ogled the scantily-clad azuran women as they used their charms to remove the coins, and more, from men’s trousers. They had sex with their customers in curtained off areas, on tables, and even on the bare floor. Despite his hatred toward the race, he had to admit that azuran women had an exotic look about them that he found quite appealing.
Tasker sorted through the containers on the table and applied white powder to his face. There was an assortment of colored creams and he chose a white one for his hair. Kylara and Lycia applied the same products to their exposed skin. Before long, the three of them looked like azurans.
“Coming in here was a smart idea, Flynn,” Tasker said.
Turning toward his companions, Flynn was startled at the sight of their white hair and faces. He didn’t need much convincing to enter a brothel but he wasn’t about to admit that. “Yeah, I guessed there’d be a powder room in here.”
Lycia’s blue eyes rolled so much they almost did a full rotation. “Of course you did.”
Flynn placed his hand over his chest as though wounded by the implied accusation. He closed the door and approached the table, stepping over the unconscious prostitute and sitting down in her chair. A mirror stood upright on the table and he was surprised to find it was made from polished steel, not silvery liquid like the ones in Seahaven. He applied the powder and cream to his face and hair until he resembled an azuran. “A pity we couldn’t make our eyes purple, somehow,” he said, admiring himself in the mirror.
The cream felt tight on his face and he stretched out his cheeks.
“Don’t do that,” Lycia said. “The makeup will crack.”
A thought occurred to Flynn as he scanned the room. He removed his armor and undressed the dead azuran. He was about to remove the clothing he wore under the armor when he noticed Kylara and Lycia staring at him, curiously.
“Excuse me,” Flynn said, pointing downward and rotating his finger, gesturing for them to turn around. He donned the azuran’s velvet clothes, then donned his swimming boots and swordbelt. The azuran man was shorter than Flynn was and the surcoat was snug, but otherwise the clothes fit well. Kylara and Lycia turned back around and snickered.
“Keep laughing,” Flynn said, removing a pair of flimsy outfits from hooks on the wall. “Because if we’re going to make it out of here alive, you have to look the part as well.”
Kylara and Lycia stared at each other, then back at Flynn, incredulously.
“And you as well,” Flynn said, handing a third slinky outfit to Tasker. With a broad grin he added, “You three whores need to get dressed.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“I can see dressing those two up as prostitutes,” Tasker said, earning himself glares from both women. “But I hardly think that I. . .”
“Nobody dresses like that here,” Flynn said, gesturing toward Tasker’s kelp clothing and all its bulging pockets. “In fact, nobody dresses like that in Seahaven either. You’ll get us caught walking around in that. There’s only one man’s outfit in here and it fits me better than it would fit you.”
Tasker held up the skimpy outfit. The material was thin enough to see through. “I fear certain parts of me would still show.”
“Then keep your undergarments on,” Flynn said. Then, to the women, “Him, I mean, not you. It might be conspicuous if all three of you wore undergarments.” After some reflection, he added, “We need to make the disguises compelling.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s the reason,” Kylara said, sarcastically. “I’ll choose to be conspicuous, thanks.”
The girls began removing their leather armors and gestured for Flynn and Tasker to turn around. Then facing the other way, Flynn’s thoughts turned to Kylara’s physique when the first suit of leather armor thudded to the floor. After some grunts and groans as they removed their tight-fitting armor, the girls slipped into the prostitutes’ clothing.
“You can turn around now,” Lycia said.
When Flynn looked at them, he forced his mouth not to drop open. The thin garments left little to the imagination and only their u
ndergarments prevented their almost-naked bodies from being visible. The fact that Kylara typically wore armor and Lycia always wore beautiful full-length clothing added to the appeal of seeing them dressed so scantily.
“Wow,” Flynn said. “The two of you look. . .”
Kylara cracked her knuckles and Lycia’s rings flared, threateningly.
“. . .adequately disguised,” he finished.
“Agreed,” Tasker said. Judging by the way his eyes were popping out of his head at Kylara, he seemed to find her outfit the more “adequate” of the two. Lycia scowled at them.
Flynn smiled at Tasker and nodded toward the third gown. “Your turn.”
A vein was throbbing in Tasker’s head and Flynn backed away, both to avoid getting punched and to give his brother privacy. The two women followed suit. It took only a moment for Tasker to replace his kelp work clothes with a slip-on gown that left little to the imagination.
Tasker brushed off the gown and shook his head. “This is ridiculous.”
The others turned around and all three stifled a laugh. Lycia snorted and quickly apologized.
“I think it looks great,” Flynn said with one hand clamped firmly over his mouth. “Is that seaweed underwear you’re wearing? They look abrasive.”
“Much like your sense of humor,” Tasker replied, scowling. “No one will mistake me for a woman in this.”
“Sure they will,” Lycia said. “After I’m through with you. Have a seat.”
Tasker sat down at the table and Lycia went to work. She applied blush to his cheeks and groomed his greasy black hair into short braids. It wasn’t as ornate as the complex hairstyles she always wore, but his hair definitely appeared feminine. Kylara tore some linens to make Tasker a stuffed top, giving him the appearance of having breasts.
“Gorgeous,” Flynn said, stepping back out of punching range.
“How much cream is left?” Kylara asked, rifling through jars on the table. “We should cover as much of our visible skin as possible.”
“Good idea,” Flynn said, the corners of his mouth curling into a wry grin.
The ladies smeared handfuls of white cream on their arms, chest, and the visible parts of their breasts.
Kylara offered Flynn the jar. “Can you finish me off?”
The question sent his mind whirling. He glanced down at her cleavage in anticipation.
Kylara rolled her eyes. “For my back, obviously.”
“Well yeah, obviously,” Flynn replied, trying to regain some footing in the conversation. “Turn around.”
As Kylara turned, the unconscious prostitute on the floor began to stir and Kylara struck the woman in the back of the head, rendering her unconscious once more. Lycia scowled and Kylara shrugged. Lycia turned away, shaking her head in disgust as Flynn smeared white cream over Kylara’s back, completing her disguise, and began helping Lycia.
Lycia smeared most of the remaining cream over her bosom and Flynn scraped out the last remnants in the jar, using it to cover her back and arms.
“How do I look, Tasker?” Lycia asked, shaking her hips. The garment she wore was simple but it accentuated her physique remarkably well. She appeared quite striking in the prostitute’s outfit.
Tasker studied her the way a crab fisherman studies his latest haul. “You look so much like an azuran, I almost want to kill you.”
Lycia jerked her head back in surprise. “Thanks. I think.”
“Because your disguise is so good,” Tasker clarified.
“Oh, I knew what you meant,” Lycia said, “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
Tasker appeared confused and Lycia put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She donned a veil and handed veils to Kylara and Tasker.
Tasker held up his veil and scowled at Flynn. “If we survive this, I’m going to shoot you.”
“Speaking of shooting,” Kylara said as she tied her veil high enough to conceal her eyes. “I won’t leave my weapons behind. Or my armor.”
“Neither will I,” Lycia said.
Tasker placed the women’s armor and Flynn’s sword on one of the linens and wrapped them together into one large sack. He tied the top if it closed with a silk bondage tie that he found draped over a chair. He tore up another linen into two pieces, and wrapped one around Stingray and the other around Kylara’s staves. He carried Stingray under his left arm and hefted the sack of armor over his right shoulder. Kylara tucked her staves under her left arm.
“Time to go, ladies,” Flynn said, earning himself a punch in the shoulder from his brother. It hurt, but it was worth it.
They left the room and the patrons and prostitutes in the common area were too engrossed in each other to notice the four disguised humans in their midst. The group exited the building and Flynn was grateful for the foul, Deepstone air compared to the mind-numbing smoke inside the brothel. He shook his head to clear it and nearly stumbled into two overweight azurans that were entering the brothel as Flynn and the others were leaving.
The azurans wore velvet clothes similar to the clothing Flynn stole from the patron inside, and their breath reeked of alcohol. Knowing his green eyes would give him away, Flynn avoided their gaze and tried to push past them. Tasker and the women kept their heads down.
“Heyyy,” one of the men slurred, pushing up the brim of a velvet cap with a black feather tucked into the brim. “Where you goin’ with them?”
“These three whores?” Flynn said, earning himself a jab in the ribs on his right side from one of the women behind him. “I just bought them. They were cheap too. Probably because they’re the worst whores in the whole place. I don’t think they even know to please a man.”
Another jab, harder than the first, struck Flynn in the ribs on the left side and he tried not to wince.
“You okay?” The first man said, poking his velvet cap up higher on his head to get a better look at Flynn. “You seem jumpy.”
“I get shooting pains sometimes. Most likely from a disease I caught by these two.”
Flynn winced again after getting two more jabs in the ribs.
The second man smiled, revealing a wreckage of broken, yellow teeth. He assaulted the four of them with breath reeking of cheap liquor and decay. “Don’t think I’ve seen them before. They don’t look too bad, except for her,” he said, indicating Tasker. “I can see why she’s the one that carries your supplies. But maybe we’ll give the other two a try and see how bad they are. We’ll pay, of course.”
“How much you offering?” Flynn said, and earning himself another pair of jabs in the ribs.
“Well,” the yellow-toothed azuran said, rubbing his chin as he considered the question. “Half a gold, for the both of them.”
“They’re not worth nearly that much,” Flynn said, stepping away to avoid getting hit again. He opened the door and urged the men inside, “You’ll find much better for cheaper, I’m sure.”
The drunken man looked curiously at Flynn. “Your eyes are funny-looking. Why are they so. . .”
“It’s the alcohol,” Flynn said, pushing the door wider and urging the azurans inside. “You’ve been drinking too much of the cheap stuff. Now go on in and have a good time.”
The two drunks went inside, murmuring about the dangers of cheap wine and cheaper prostitutes. Flynn shut the door and leaned against it, releasing a relieved sigh. Tasker, Kylara, and Lycia formed a semicircle around him, each glaring at him.
Flynn held out his palms and shrugged. “What?”
“We should go,” Tasker said, adjusting his makeshift bra as the women scowled at his brother. “I saw two patrols that appeared to be looking for people. I’m guessing they’re after us.”
“If they are,” Flynn said. “At least we won’t match the description they would have been given.”
“True,” Kylara said. One of the shoulder straps on the loose-fitting gown slid down her arm and she pulled it back up over her shoulder. “But we should keep moving. Now that we know Theoric is in the city, it’s even more impor
tant for us to reach the nearest exit quickly. Follow me.”
Tasker heaved the bag containing their things over his shoulder and the group walked along the edge of the lake. A channel branched off from the lake into the city and they crossed an arching ice bridge that brought them to a street flanked by two-story buildings. The street had no cobblestones; it seemed the builders manipulated the rock into a single massive piece.
Two azuran males in black leather armor headed toward the group. The men paused their conversation and slowed their pace as they neared Flynn and the others, staring curiously as they passed each other by. One of the men nonchalantly placed his hand on the hilt of a shortsword sheathed at his hip and turned around, his white eyebrows raised suspiciously.
Both men were staring at Flynn and he looked for an excuse to avert his eyes without arousing suspicion.
“Wench!” Flynn said, kicking Tasker in the ass. “Walk faster. I’ve seen algae move faster than you.”
“Sorry,” Tasker said, his voice cracking as he tried to sound feminine. He shifted the sack of armor over to his left shoulder and hurried faster up the street. The azuran released his grip on his sword and the pair resumed walking in the other direction.
“Nice work,” Flynn said to his brother. With a grin he added, “Wench.”
Tasker’s jaw clenched. “You’re getting far too much enjoyment from our present situation.”
“And your boobs are lopsided,” Flynn said, chuckling.
Tasker bared his teeth, then adjusted the breast-shaped padding in his outfit.
“Pay attention,” Kylara said, glaring at Flynn. “Theoric and his men are ahead.”
The leather coat and tricorn hat made Theoric stand out in the crowd. Next to him appeared to be Gideon, his human features hidden behind a bone mask. A dozen other azurans in leather armor and wielding thin swords accompanied the two men. The bone masks they used to move and breathe underwater hung from their swordbelts. The pirates scanned the area as they walked and Flynn pretended to be interested in something that gave him an excuse to avoid making eye contact.