Skulduggery

by Logan Jacobs

  “They drive themselves,” Dar explained. “Elven horses are spelled. All you have to do is whisper in their ear where you want them to go, and bingo, hands-free cart ride.”

  “Is this just a theory or have you seen it work?” I asked Dar with an arched eyebrow.

  “I’ve seen it done before,” Dar answered as he crossed his arms over his stout chest. “My family has dealt with its fair share of elven horses throughout the years.”

  “Well then, nice work Dar,” I praised with a grin. “I wasn’t sure you could pull it off, but you did it.”

  “It was nothing, but definitely a story I can use to lure a few ladies into my chambers.” Dar laughed as he made a circle with the fingers of one hand and then shoved the pointer finger of his other hand inside.

  I shook my head.

  “Well, we just pulled off the greatest heist of the century, so I think we deserve to crack open one of these damn bottles,” Penny proclaimed as she used the tip of her iron knife to pry out the cork.

  “Might as well before the elves come for our heads. Hell, Wade, you’re big enough they might just give you to the orcs for supper,” Dar said with a wink.

  I punched his scrawny arm as Penny took a swig from the bottle. Her face contorted into an expression of pleasure as she savored the taste in her mouth. Then she licked her plump lips as she passed the bottle to Dar, and it took everything within me not to stare at her mouth.

  “It’s even better than I imagined.” Penny sighed. “Do elves get to drink this every day? Ahhh, to be rich and powerful …”

  “It’s good stuff!” Dar gulped down the red aromatic juice like a starving man lost in the dwarves’ mines. He sighed when he was finished and hesitantly passed me the bottle.

  I couldn’t wait to taste the elven wine. It was the stuff of legends, and I’d heard many tales of it back on the farm. The folk tellers who passed through claimed it was as sweet as any do-gooder and could have a man drunk in two sips. They claimed it was better than any whiskey, and anyone who claimed differently was a farce. This was the king of all alcohol, and I finally had it within my grasp.

  I stared at the red substance as I breathed in the fruity tones. The aromatic scent was better than I had imagined, and I excitedly raised the bottle to my parched lips.

  I took a swig just like I would with the whiskey I used to make with my dad back at the farm.

  Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

  The taste was so bitter and putrid on my tongue I thought I was going to be sick, and I spit the wine out in a flourish.

  Penny and Dar roared with laughter, and I shoved the bottle into the redhead’s lap.

  “What’s wrong?” Penny asked. “Don’t like it?”

  “It’s gross,” I groaned. “This is nothing like the grain whiskey I used to drink back at the farm. Whiskey is a real man’s drink, but that is just torture. I’m not sure if it’s bad wine, or if I just don’t like wine.”

  “Well, I think it tastes heavenly.” Penny smirked at me as she took a few good swigs from the bottle.

  “This is the stuff dwarves, orcs, and halflings alike would pay a fortune for,” Dar said with a shrug.

  “Well they are a bunch of idiots, the stuff my dad and I ma--” I froze as an idea took ahold of me.

  Alcohol.

  They will pay a fortune for alcohol, whether it was wine or whiskey. A fortune we could use to escape this dangerous line of work and become whomever or whatever we felt like. I could build a house in the countryside or travel to a different realm and start over. I could provide for Penny, and Dar could go and live his life however he saw fit.

  “Would they also buy whiskey?” I questioned.

  Dar had the bottle now, but he managed to set it down long enough to respond.

  “Alcohol is alcohol to the citizens of the realm, so the answer to your question is ‘yes,’” Dar responded. “But where would you get something that contraband?”

  I snatched the bottle from the halfling and swirled the dark disgusting liquid in the glass monstrosity as an idea formed in my head.

  We were gonna start our own alcohol business.

  Chapter 6

  I awoke nauseated and sick to my stomach. We’d passed out in the third-story loft, otherwise known as the Guild’s attic, but Penny, Dar, and I had claimed the space for ourselves a couple years back.

  I was lying on an old stack of dusty carpets we’d stolen but never managed to push since they turned out to be fakes and earned us nothing but Hagan’s wrath.

  I looked over at my friends, saw they were sprawled out on the room’s various pieces of furniture, and let out a small sigh. Penny occupied the sea blue chaise lounge, the one with enough springs popping through that I was sure someday it would run one of us through. Dar had taken his post atop a desk with a mountain of useless crap on top that consisted of watches, fake jewels, and a myriad of empty bottles. How anyone, halfling or not, could sleep on a pile of trash was something I never understood.

  I slowly pulled myself to my feet, and the world spun around me. I hadn’t felt this way in years, ever since the few nights before the orcs killed my family. I had a wicked tolerance to the addictive substance, and I could outdrink everyone in my family except my father, so I figured it was because the wine I drank last night was utter shit.

  My stomach lurched, and I lunged for the bucket in the corner we kept in case of emergencies. Then I emptied last night’s dinner into the bucket’s crusted interior. I felt a bit disgusted with myself for not being able to hold my alcohol, but the vomiting had done me some good, since my head throbbed less and the nausea subsided some.

  I sank down onto the wall beside the bucket and laid my head against its cool surface. Then I watched a swath of red hair rise from the lounger out of the corner of my eye and opened my mouth.

  “Morning.”

  “Ugh.” Penny’s hair hung in tangled knots like those created by young Selius, and her wan face lacked color, but she wore her sickness like a badge of honor. Then Penny threw a hand over her nose and mouth as she grew paler.

  “Feel like shit?” I asked the obvious.

  “The stench of the bucket isn’t helping anyone here,” she gagged. “Go wash it out, since you filled it.”

  “I kinda don’t feel like moving,” I groaned.

  “Please?”

  “Well,” I managed to chuckle, “since you asked so nicely.”

  I shakily stood, grabbed the liquid filled bucket, and trudged out the door, but before I even reached the second stair, I had to pull it up and use it again.

  When I finished hurling, I threw a hand over my nose and finished my trek down the stairs. I groaned as I heard Hagan’s voice filter through the cracks of the wooden beams. I didn’t have the patience to deal with him this morning, and I really expected my day to be free of his grubby hands.

  I rounded the corner and hoped to avoid a confrontation, but it was useless.

  “Where in the bloody hell do ya think ya going boy?” Hagan growled.

  I groaned inwardly as I turned back around to face the chubby halfling. “I was just emptying out our communal bucket, unless you would prefer I just do it here?”

  I smirked and Hagan bared his yellowed teeth. Then he walked toward me, or rather he waddled, and peered into my bucket. The small man peered up at me, and I knew I was caught red-handed.

  “Ya mean the bucket ya dirtied because ya drank some of my profits. Money you decided to drink and then waste in this here bucket.” Hagan gestured to the wooden pail in my hands.

  “You mean the money I made you after Penny, Dar, and I pulled off the biggest job in the last ten years?” I hissed. “How about a little appreciation.”

  “How about you shut your mouth, boy,” Hagan snarled as his fingers drifted down to his dagger. “I’ve half a mind to cut you another mouth on your neck. Just to teach you for sassin’ back at me. I don’t give two shits about how big you think that job was. It was just a job, and you drank
some of my profits, so after ya done washing it out, the three of ya are on pickpocket duty, and I don’t give a shit if ya is sick. Just don’t vomit on the valuables, pipsqueak.”

  “You’re the boss. Don’t worry, your pockets will be filled by sundown,” I responded with a hint of sarcasm.

  Then I turned and walked away, and I felt anger eat away at my hangover.

  Fuck Hagan.

  He was probably going to make hundreds of gold selling all that wine, maybe even thousands, and Penny, Dar, and I were the ones to plan and pull it off. All he brought to the table was the scuttlebutt that the wine was being transported in one of the buildings in the warehouse district.

  Now he was telling me I was eating into his profit? There would be no profit if it wasn’t for me.

  I needed to get out of here. I needed to get free of Hagan. I needed to be my own man.

  But how? Hagan would order me dead the second I tried to leave the Guild, and I really didn’t have any skills besides pickpocketing, lock opening, sneaking, and fast talking. I was decent in a fight with a dagger, but there were sixty members of Hagan’s Guild, and I wouldn’t be able to fight all of them.

  I needed some way to make money that I could keep without Hagan finding out. Then I could bribe or buy my way free of him.

  I dumped the volatile contents of my bucket on the ground, washed it out a few times, and added some peliman flowers to kill the smell. Then I filled my own belly with water from the well to fight the hangover. The water actually made me feel a lot better, and I was able to make it back up the stairs to the attic without barfing again.

  I opened the ancient wooden door to find both my friends with some biscuits from our secret food stash. Their mouths were full, but my stomach protested at the thought.

  “So,” Penny began, “I assume Hagan caught you with the bucket, and now he’s punished us for drinking his profits?”

  “Are you looking for an apology?” I snickered. “Because if I remember correctly, you were the one who suggested we crack open a bottle.”

  “Yeah, but your drunken ass was the one who convinced us we had time to drink two more,” the pixie-sized thief responded with a playful smile.

  Penny was sprawled out on the lounger with her toned ivory legs on full display. She’d changed into a silk periwinkle gown and was finally rid of the horrible servant’s outfit. Her hair was coiled into a braided bun resting atop her head, and I wanted with all my being to tuck the stray hairs back behind her delicate ears. She still looked like she might be hungover, but she was much better at hiding it than me.

  “What?” she grunted when she saw me studying her.

  “I’m just looking at you,” I replied.

  “Why?” she groaned.

  “You know why,” I sighed. “It makes my head feel better.”

  “Oh,” Penny said, and for once, the glimmer in her eyes told me she didn’t mind my roundabout compliment.

  Dar coughed, and my eyes snapped over to him. Much to my surprise, it didn’t look like he was hungover at all. He was the smallest of all of us, but maybe halflings digest wine differently than humans.

  “You should have stopped after you chugged the first bottle, farm boy,” Dar laughed. “It might have saved me from hearing one too many ‘Y’alls’ last night and a slew of other words I didn’t understand.”

  “I just can’t believe you’re not hungover,” I groaned. “Throw me a biscuit and let’s get this over with.”

  Penny chucked a biscuit at my head, and she probably expected me to fumble it because I was hungover. Instead, I deftly caught it, gave her a wink, and bit down on it.

  “Heh,” she snorted.

  “Nice try,” I managed to laugh, and then I gestured for them to follow me.

  We headed out the back entrance and into the throng of the Halfling District, but we soon found we had to ditch our usual spot because the Assassin’s Guild had butchered some poor folks in the street. Everyone knew the rich ran when blood started to pour, and their money went with them, so there was nobody left to rob, and a few dwarven city guards wearing wide brimmed hats to keep the sun from their faces patrolled every corner.

  “Think they know about the wine?” Dar whispered as we turned the corner a block from our place and saw another group of twenty dwarven guards.

  “Everyone is gonna know about it soon,” Penny hissed. “They won’t know who took it though, and hopefully it will get sold soon enough.”

  “Let’s take a detour,” I said, and then we grabbed a few cups of coffee from Osman’s to help stave off the hangover and plan where we would set up our thieving for the day.

  We eventually stationed ourselves across from Madame Rindell. Not only were the poor saps who exited the establishment easy pickings, but occasionally Madame would provide us with discounted food. Also, it was a half-hour or so walk away from the streets where the morning murders had transpired, and there weren’t the unusual dwarven guard patrols. Just the occasional elf or even human squad led by a single elf, since the pointy eared bastards couldn’t trust a group of humans to do simple guard duty without their oversight.

  We watched from our respective posts around the area, but I found myself watching Penny more than anything. One of our schemes required her to distract our targets, so she still wore that beautiful dress from earlier. She might have been the most agile of us all, but she was also the only one with breasts.

  There were a variety of people who traveled through this part of town, but being on the border of the elf district had risks as well as heartier rewards. We had a better chance of lifting a higher value product, but at the same time we were closer to the elven court and their guards.

  The street bustled with mostly halflings, but there were a few dwarves and elves in the mix as well. Most of them came from Madame Rindell’s “dance hall,” as she liked to call it.

  Dar walked into the crowd, which was our signal to follow. He knocked into a man, then lifted his watch. Next, he passed the watch to Penny, who pretended to pick it up off the ground.

  “Excuse me sir, is this your watch?” the pixie-sized thief asked the man with an innocent smile.

  The man’s eyes widened as his face broke into a grin.

  “Why yes, I do believe it is. It must have fallen off my wrist,” the man explained.

  He reached for it, but Penny deftly wrapped it around his wrist.

  “Allow me sir. We wouldn’t want it to fall off your wrist again, now would we?” Penny giggled flirtatiously.

  I lifted the bundle of coins from the man’s back pocket as he gazed into the depths of Penny’s emerald eyes. I knew firsthand how distracting they could be, but I managed to keep a grin from my face.

  We’d been caught a few times, but usually Penny had our target under her spell with just a simple charmed smile. They were easily smitten, and it became easy pickings for us.

  We continued the same routine here and there, until Penny spotted a man with bulging pockets and an overfilled satchel to boot. She approached him with a sway of her hips, a movement any man would die for, and fluttered her lashes to hold his attention hostage.

  “I’m sorry sir, but I seem to have gotten turned around,” Penny said as she bit the edge of her lip and stared up at him. “I’m sure a handsome man like yourself would know where to find the closest inn.”

  The man visibly gulped as the busy crowd around them jostled their bodies back and forth. It made any bump or scrape seem normal as Dar and I headed forward to empty his pockets.

  “I um, I think I know where one might be,” the man said as he scratched the back of his neck. “Uhhh, can I walk you there, miss?”

  “Oh, such a gentleman,” Penny purred as she rested a hand gently upon his arm, “but you do seem to be in a hurry. Maybe you could just gesture with your hand in the direction I need to go?”

  Dar had just made his pass, and I lifted the few coins from his back pocket, then I gave Penny a wink that was her signal to get out of there.
>
  “I think there might be one over on Weaver Street,” the man proclaimed as he pointed with a shaky finger.

  “Oh, thank you,” Penny said as she melted into the crowd and out of his line of sight.

  Occasionally, Penny’s trick didn’t work. Usually, when the men got too handsy, Penny threatened them with a knife or pulled out an insult she learned from her time spent in the city ghettos. The redhead’s knife skills were better than anyone I’d ever seen, and she could slit any man’s throat with the simple flick of her wrist. I shouldn’t have been surprised, since she was a third-generation Guild member.

  We continued to fill our pockets with coin, until the elf we saw at Madame Rupert’s the other day exited the building.

  Dar began to move, but he ignored my signals to leave the elf alone.

  I normally found elves to be disgusting creatures who were born into power, but one look at this one, and shivers erupted down my spine. Sure, their lean bodies and angular features had an elegant beauty to them, and most of the women looked less like mortal creatures and more like goddesses, but they were all a bunch of assholes, and I hated the lot of them.

  This one in particular was trouble.

  My stomach dropped as I felt the magic radiate off him, and I guessed the key’s power must have made me more attuned to its presence. My heart raced as I pushed through the crowd toward Dar, but I was working against the flow of traffic, and I would never make it in time.

  Penny saw my panic from afar, and she moved to cut him off.

  But it was too late. Dar was already a step away from making the biggest mistake of his life.

  I could see it in the elf’s sapphire eyes as he beheld my friend in his gaze. I called out to Dar, but it was no use.

  I froze as Dar’s hand reached out to take from the tall elf’s tailored pant’s pocket. My nose burned with the scent of magic, and then Dar’s hand was stopped in midair, and his face filled with undiluted panic.

  The elf smiled down at him, sharp canines on full display, and no one around was any the wiser.

  The world spun as panic took ahold of me, and I did the only thing I could.