when you saw her, you thought: 207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4zG0Ag2emc
OF COURSE 207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡy8Yx3lLIUj
SHE MUST BE A
WARLOCK207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXG9nfORgBJ
NO ONE COULD BE BORN THAT
BEAUTIFUL207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJTrLfAquts
TSO exaggerates. Lightning didn’t strike. The sky didn’t break apart and shatter. The horns of hellish Underrift didn’t blow. My heart didn’t go pitter-patter. 207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHT3pSlqW5h
it 207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCwaULJ548K
did
I
don’t
forget
thingsssssI took a stool at the bar top, deliberately turning my back on the woman sitting at the hearth. I had a reputation. I’m certain she did too. Regies (registered spellcasters with the Spire) rarely mix, and if she was a rogue, then we definitely don’t mix. I couldn’t tell who her patron was. She didn’t wear gloves, but there were no evident track lines on her exposed skin. All I saw was a flash of golden hair and sinewy, leather-clad lines and turned away from her, dazzled.
It was better to play it safe and hope she went on her own way.
Of course, after the second shot of rum hit me, I wondered, Is she here to assist with this bounty?
Myhandler had done something like that in the past, back when my few Ws were overshadowed by an avalanche of absolute Ls. I worked with the wizard they sent me (I think his name was Lars the Effervescent—something ridiculous) for a time, but after a handful of jobs over that next month, the wizard went back to the Spire, and I was pulled from soft-probation and thrown back to the wolves—a solitary asset of positive net worth once more.
Maybe my ledger was in the red again, I figured. Or maybe she’s here to retire me, I thought morosely.
That happened too. Regies that turned into liabilities were given a choice. They could submit their minds to the psionics of The Covetous Eye and mentally castrate themselves or die as a rogue.207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3R0k5nK7vu
I ordered a third finger, but sipped on it, my nerves never fraying enough to make me retreat to a room upstairs, but never relaxing enough that I’d confront the blonde warlock directly.207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0pzTBasE9O
Depression slid into the seat next to me, but when I looked, the lady warlock was staring at me, her chin propped on a fist, her elbow resting against the bar. There was a half-smile tugging at one side of her lips and her eyes were bright and expectant.
I fixed my eyes over the rim of my glass, staring at the collection of dusty bottles behind the barkeep. I finished off the glass and motioned for another. Exasperated, the barkeep left the bottle next to me and raised an eyebrow at the lady.
“Nothing for me,” she said, beaming a pearlescent smile at him, her sparkling eyes disappearing into twin thickets of lash and gum-kohl. The man started and shook his head before busying himself at the other end of the top. Then she turned her shameless grin on me and it felt like being hit by a brain-melting solar flair. “The fuckheads in Castin’ld said Double-or-Nothing Sue is notorious for drowning his sorrows after every job, good or bad. And he’ll look for any excuse to have a drink. Well, have a drink with me. My name’s Blizzith Torvoole and I’m the solution to all your problems, Big Guy.”
Bliz is one of those people that can turn “Hello” into a monologue.
I poured myself another fortifying drink and toasted the bar top I was soon to collapse under.
“Not much of a talker, huh? Well, that makes things easier. I’ll talk, you’ll listen,” she said, spinning on her chair to lean her back against the bar so she could face me. She shifted her stool close to mine so our legs were touching. I normally bristle at any kind of physical contact, but at that point, I was too far gone to care.207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡflynWBxDgi
so you say207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbl8SQCTZyX
The smirk that settled on her face was lined with overuse. I didn’t guess right when I thought she looked young, maybe a little over twenty. But Bliz is older than me by half a decade. She blames good genetics and a life well lived. I blame the immortal beings keeping us tethered to sources of pure, unadulterated magical power, but that’s just me. Even a year ago, she carried herself like a young gun. And I mean that in all the best and worst ways.
The lady warlock carried on talking. “I’m a warlock of the Void Maker. I can draw power from any source. And, truthfully, I’ve just fallen out of a very long, very boring relationship with my last partner. I accidentally turned him into a pile of ash. Kind of a hazard of my occupation, you could say. But I heard from several little birds—which is basically a flock, if you believe it—that you are very bad at basically all the magical shit and you kill lots of people by accident all the time. I can help with that. I’m a living focus. Take my card. You can corroborate my story with the Spire. You can even pull my private dossier. I don’t mind. Really. I’m an open book!”
Oh gods, I thought, staring at her proffered card with disgust. Butcher paper? Charcoal? Am I about to fight this witch?
BLIZZITH TORVOOLE207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWrZesJ8RTo
WK.TVM
1575-0001-05
CAIRUV THA SPYER207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ97RWTvMX1C
U NO THA WON207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzdtnHwVczz
What am I looking at? I wondered, utterly stupefied by the childlike scrawl. Did she write this blindfolded?207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlky7wKz9qf
I handed her card back to her and then passed her mine. She pocketed it without looking at it and said, “So, what say you, Wk. Lummox? Wanna pair up for a spell? Or two? I’ll even go halfsies with you. And maybe, with me around to funnel all that killing talk, we’ll get you the souls you need to get back the life you want.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Come on! What’ve you got to lose? Far as I can tell, there’s nowhere for you to mine below rock bottom.”207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlUJNQUP7W7
Lummox. My brother used to call me that. Pretty sure she was being a gnat without a hat, but hearing the term of endearment after going so long without put me on edge.
She continued gushing, seeing my eyes narrow and misreading my thought process: “I’ve seen your stuff in Castin’ld and I’m a people person. You could use a people person. You’ve got loner all over you, like a smell. I get it. I’ve been there. Killed your wife and all your family. It was an accident, but people can see that kind of stuff on your face. But it’s cool, because I’ll be our new face. Whaddaya say?”
Warlocks, soulbound to beings hailing from outside our plane, are privy to daemonic levels of forbidden knowledge. Not just knowledge found within our world, but knowledge from without as well.
There was nothing of Natalie in my files at Castin’ld’s Spire. I knew that for a fact, because I had destroyed the mentions myself.
The last time a hostile warlock tried to use secret knowledge against me, I made them disappear.
To keep from that extreme, my next movement was purely instinctual. My wrist jerked and the contents of my glass (mostly ice and watered-down grog) coated Blizzith Torvoole from the top of her golden hair to the bottom of her shiny, black boots. She licked moisture from her upper lip and blinked as kohl ran from her eyes. She nodded a couple times and slid from her stool. “Roger that,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll be here until morning if you change your—"
The door to the inn swung open, drawing the barkeep and Blizzith’s eyes. I was still glaring at her, taking the opportunity to assess her weaponry if it did come down to a shoot-out in the streets. (It would have to happen in the streets. The Silent One doesn’t do half-measures, and I didn’t want to get the inn or its keeper caught up in any of our personal squabbles.)
Blizzith Torvoole wore darkly dyed leather from her high-neck collar, down to her boots. Out of the corner of the eye, the outfit would look seamless, hugging cut muscle and a flat chest, leaving nothing to the imagination in a very crude, flamboyant way. It made me think she was as careless with her body as she was with her words. Or, at the very least, oblivious to either’s effects. She had a cowl tied to a silver loop on her belt. Following along that belt, there was a small purse on a chain, three stoppered vials filled with something yellow or gold, and a cowskin document pouch that rode high on her hip, probably empty by the way it rolled against her.
Despite her careless dress, the rest of her was utilitarian. Hair tied at the nape of her neck; nails cut short. The only affectation that betrayed her femininity was the copious amount of dark makeup surrounding her hazel eyes, drowning the green-brown orbs in a forbidding sea.
raccoon girl207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLpHDeMSZUH
Still rude.
am I wrong?207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpk8bKfj8uV
She didn’t carry any visible weapons and she wasn’t wearing a pack. I absently wondered where the rest of her belongings were, but then my study was interrupted by an angry voice that drew my own gaze to the door.
“You!” the fat landlord spit like a curse. Then his attention went to Bliz and the girl beamed at him. “I thought I told you lot to get the hells out of here! I’ll never order a caster from the Spire again at this rate!” He passed by us before I could do anything in the way of explanation and with a huff, parked himself at the back table he’d been at that morning, motioning at the barkeep for whatever his usual was. I guessed beer silently and the barkeep poured two beers.
you are better than her at cards207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGnyy8aip7o
you only bet on sure things
like the weather
or death207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPnEX29I1mB
she only bets on herself
or you
remind us to buy a lottery stub later
I turned to Blizzith, to motion her away since she was lingering, but shook my head and poured myself another drink. If she wanted to stare at the landlord with that unhinged smile stuck to her face, it was her fucking life to waste.
The barkeep dropped off the beers to his lord and returned to the bar, a look of discomfort creasing his face as his eyes flitted between Blizzith and his taxman. I knew what he was debating, but I wonder what he could have done about it.
But then Blizzith put both our wonders to bed as she confidently approached the landlord and asked very loudly, “How much did you pay my friend for his service? I’m just trying to gauge this area for future—”
The landlord sputtered over his beer. “Oh no, you’re not another one, are you?” he demanded, his face already turning red, but then he seemed to internalize her appearance and the red on his face suffused into his cheeks. Distracted, he waved a hand and broke her single-minded look. “Well, since I have you here, he needs to answer for what he did! I’m not paying that murderer one red cent! All the goods we wanted to recover from the bandits were los—”
“Did you very specifically say you wanted the stolen goods spared? He’s a warlock of the Silent One. You have to be very specific about your intent. There are only a few of his kind allowed to work for the Spire because they are so exact in the execution of their duties. If he acted outside his client-contract, I am obligated under the provision found in Poolian statute 3-8-2-5-point-9-6-8 to execute him on sight. Are you willing to swear in a wizard’s court that he broke his contract? When you are sworn in, there are spells that prevent you from lying. Your testimony will be taken to count, should you agree.”
She was right about our relationship with contracts. Contracts are kind of our thing. But wizard’s court? What in TSO’s name was she going on about? And that Poolian statute? That had to be made-up.
Of course, it seemed like the landlord wasn’t the wiser. His face paled and he nervously scratched at his sweating triple-chin and the collar pressing into his neck. “Er, well… I might have… eluded that the goods needed to be preserved if—”
“Elusion isn’t enough,” Blizzith said, her diplomatic face splitting in a furious expression. The sudden reversal of mood had the landlord making a wheezing noise, not unlike a squeaky toy being depressed too quickly in the jaws of a wolfhound. “If I were you, Lord Gorloone, I would pay my colleague his due according to our standard service rates. If you do not, I will be obliged to inform the Spire of your breach in contract. After that, you can bet all five Poolian Spires will never answer a call for magical aid. Come famine, come plague, come lich or any other unnatural invasion… You and those who live on your lands will perish, and no one will mourn your passing.”
Lord Gorloone swallowed noisily and with a begrudging sort of twitching movement, he tossed a bag of gold onto the table in front of him and returned to his beer without another word.
Blizzith’s hand rested on the pouch and she kneaded her fingers in the leather. “You’re short eleven pieces, Mister Tax Collector,” she said sweetly.
He managed to hold on to what remained of his dignity as he dug through a breast pouch to produce a dozen silver coins and other assorted change. Then a ten-bill hit the table and Blizzith snatched up the whole fair with a grin.
“Thank you for choosing the Half’ld Spire. I’ll let my cohorts know how cooperative you were. You may be seeing a lot more warlocks in the near future… This is such a quaint little town, after all.” She winked at him and then turned, leaving him to nurse his beer with a whiplashed look akin to a child just chastised, then praised, by his gorgeous governess.
I turned back to my drink at her approach, but then flinched away as she loosened the pouch at my belt and slipped the landlord’s due into it. I batted her hand away when her fingers lingered on my side, tickling me. She laughed aloud and took the stool beside me, her head canting to the side so she could see me, face-to-face. “You arewel-come,” she said, sing-song. “So… Have you had time to reconsider our partnership, Suuue?”
She dragged my name out; overtly friendly, with no hint of malice or piss-taking. If I wore my feeling on my face, hers was in her voice.
I hadn’t. Reconsidered our partnership, I mean. I finished off my drink and discovered the bottle of rum had emptied. I marveled at a flattened knot in the bar top for a moment before I turned back to her, glassy-eyed and slightly dazed with the sudden flush of good fortune.
I couldn’t comprehend the idea of staying the night in town with the landlord’s ire now burning a hole in the back of my head, but I also didn’t want to be on the back of a horse, coming down from a rather pleasant, alcoholic haze. Especially not overnight.
I also didn’t want to spend any more time with a warlock who knew about my past… Well, not without knowing more about them in-turn.
“I’m the answer to all your problems,” she’d said; the picture of perfect confidence.
She’s a blonde problem on two legs, I thought acerbically.
Pulling me from my musings, she pushed another corked bottle of rum towards me and then filled my glass, biting her tongue with a secret laugh wrinkling the corners of her eyes. “Shot for your thoughts?” she asked.
I snorted.
“Sue smiles!” she declared, throwing up her arms, making leather squeak and strain. “Despite his size and the shit smell, he’s only human after all! Listen… We’ll make a good fit. I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Don’t leave me hanging here. Nod once for yes, nod twice for double-yes.” She gripped her hands in a prayer gesture and I finally noticed the gold lines under her skin, like trails of sunfire and hope.
Blizzith could bully Heaven’s gatekeeper into vouching for her.
She still can.
I nodded twice.
and damned yourself207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRDWw84bFUw
She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I didn’t flinch away. She let me go after just a second and said, “Let’s get back to Half’ld. I’ll take the second watch so you can get some shuteye! We’ve got each other’s back! At the Spire, we’ll draft a service contract and only take the most dangerous jobs! High adventure and babes and GOLD! So much gold, just at our fingertips!”207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtiPVsD8XD8
The landlord cleared his throat behind us, but Bliz went on, saying, “I’ll buy you clothes and we’ll get another horse and maybe we can get a—”
I put a glove over her mouth. She gave me a sheepish look.
I motioned at the barkeep and the man came over. I gave him ten gold pieces out of my pouch and, without missing a beat, the man swept the gold off the top with no change of expression on his face, ever hyper aware of the man sitting at the table behind us. Then he nodded to the both of us and walked back to his shelves to dust.
Bliz smirked at me, raising an eyebrow. “That guy’s less talkative than you—Farewell, Lord Gorloone!” She called over her shoulder.
Then the two of us were out the door, rum in-hand, on our way back to the more civilized parts of the world, further north.
and then the golden raccoon 207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLTsob6goPH
tried to kill you
in your sleep
!
No. That’s enough for today. I’ll write about that tomorrow.
tease207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡePVMOTAPKT
