“Do you think he might have returned for revenge?” Thomasi asked, leaning forward and considering the old killer.
Don Coltello smiled, his eyes flat. “Cagna, show them your blade.”
Chase stared, as the dog-woman pulled it free from the sheath, up to the first foot. It was oiled black metal, all save for the edge, which had the gleam of silver. After a few seconds, the bodyguard slid the sword back into place.
“It was the first thing I thought of,” Don Coltello said, rising and looking out the window again. “But if he comes for me, he’ll die. I’m not so worried about that. I am worried about my people. If these wolves came at me, they would die. It would be easy. But they’re not coming at me, and tonight is the night of the full moon. They’ll change. They’ll feed. And my people’s fear will grow. Or worse, Arretzi’s fear will grow. And then the business of the city will come out here and get into my business. It will be bad all around.”
“How can we help… Nonno?” Chase asked.
In the reflection of the warped glass of the window, she saw the old man’s face smile in smug satisfaction. Then he turned around, spreading his flabby arms wide in benevolence. “I can kill wolves. That is no hardship. But first I must know where they are. You… you can find these wolves for me.” He leaned on the table, both fists pressed against it, towering over her. “Do that, and I will be a very, very generous man.”
Chase nodded. “We can try. Hoon has helped me so far, and I think werewolves are pretty bad for trade, so I don’t imagine he wouldn’t lend a hand here again. But... he helps those who best help themselves.” Technically that saying was from the farming god, Old Koss, and she’d grown up hearing that over and over again, but she didn’t think the Don knew the difference. “What can you tell us before we start looking?”
“Ah. That would take too long. But you are mistaken in one thing, mia piccola nipotina.”
“I am?” Chase looked up at the old man.
He folded his hands over his gut. “You said when we start looking. You will look. Your man, Tom, will remain and help me look out here, and take care of a few small business matters.”
A jolt of cold dread seeped down Chase’s spine. Especially since quick, sidelong glances showed that Cagna and Lachina had tensed, ever so slightly.
PER+1
Refusal would have consequences. She was beginning to understand how things worked in the Don’s circles. She still owed him for dragging him over here and passing that phony gold.
“Don, forgive me for speaking up,” Thomasi said, settling a hand on Chase’s shoulder. She jumped, but let it be. “The young lady, she is in my care. As a servant of her family, I would feel some concern about having her unchaperoned in an unfamiliar city. You understand my worries, of course.”
“You think I don’t?” The Don studied him for a moment, then smiled. “You are a good consigliere to your master, here. You do her credit with your concern. I would not be so rude as to let a young lady walk unescorted, especially with beasts about! She may choose one of my servants, here, to attend her in your place while she is in Arretzi.”
Thomasi’s hand patted her shoulder. “I see. That does allay my concerns. Thank you, Don Coltello.”
“In that case...” Chase said, sitting back in her chair and making a show of studying the two women. Her choice was clear, thanks to the dog-woman’s small show of help, earlier. “I choose Cagna, please, Nonno.”
The Don’s face was unreadable as he nodded. “Then Cagna you shall have. And now, my child, I must go. Tom, come with me. We have much to discuss.”
“May I have a few minutes to consult with Thomasi before he goes with you, please?” Chase said, taking Renny off his little corner of the table, and putting him back into her pack.
The Don considered, then waved a hand in idle indulgence. “There is a room across the way. You may discuss matters there.”
They had to pass the stairs to do so, and for a second Chase thought about grabbing Thomasi’s hand and bolting. But only for a second. They were in one of the Don’s strongholds, and he would certainly have stationed someone at the door. Besides, fleeing now would not help them get through Arretzi. It would probably make it more difficult, actually.
“This is a fine game you’ve gotten us into,” Chase said, once they were in the sparse bedroom that the Don had pointed out, and the door was firmly shut.
“Technically it’s called a con,” Thomasi muttered, kneeling to whisper. “Right now, he thinks we might be from one of the northern crime families. From the Capital, probably. He’ll check into that, but it will take time. Our job is to be out of here before he finishes.”
“Is that why he’s keeping ahold of you?”
“That and he’ll get some use out of me. He was sizing us up, just as we did him. My attributes probably surprised him. I imagine I’ll be making fool’s gold and doing other services for him while you go on your werewolf hunt.”
“We know at least one place they’ve been. That’s something the Don doesn’t.”
Thomasi took her shoulders. “Do not go back there. Not without some heavy backup. It’s the middle of the wilderness, and they might not be Scouts, but that’s still their playground. They’ll literally eat you alive, if you do that.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?” she spread her hands. “I don’t know how to hunt werewolves!”
“Improvise. Stall. How many levels did you gain back there?”
“Two! And... a new job. Maybe.” She bit her lip. “If I take it.”
“Two levels, just from sitting and talking your way through this! What did I tell you?” Thomasi’s grin showed pride. “You’re a fast student. You can stall, have faith in yourself. And in me! At some point I’ll give him the slip and come for you. After that we can get gone. Pretend to hunt the werewolves and keep your head down.”
“How will you find me?”
Thomasi snorted. “By the time I’m done, the Don’s people will be my people. I haven’t spent years becoming a social juggernaut for nothing. Relax, I’ve got this.”
She wondered about that. But time was short, and she didn’t think the Don would grant them enough to argue about it. “Okay. Okay... Do you have any more advice or help you can give me?”
“Absolutely. Your friend should only talk to you when you’re alone.” He patted the pack... also clinking coins together as he dropped them in. “I’m giving you about half of my loose change. None of it is fool’s gold. You can probably put it to good use... hm. You’ve never been in a city before, right?”
“No.”
“Don’t keep all your coins in the same place, stash them around your person. Don’t pat the pockets or wherever, it shows thieves where to grab from. Don’t make eye contact for long and mind your own business when possible. Follow Cagna’s lead. Her perception is a bit better than mine.”
Chase’s mouth fell open at that. She didn’t know exactly how many levels Thomasi had, but she was pretty sure he was up there.
“Okay,” Chase said. “Okay,” again, a little more firmly, as she shut her mouth and steeled herself.
He considered her for a moment longer, then sighed and reached into his pack. “Here. In case the worst happens.”
And to her vast surprise, Thomasi handed Chase his Ringmaster’s hat.
Her eyes grew wide, as he demonstrated how to collapse the hat into a cloth circle, then extend it to full length again. “Don’t repeat this until you need it, but to use the hat say the following words; ‘activate direct attention,’ and then choose either away, or toward what you want people to focus on. Got it?”
“I do.” Then, to Thomasi’s surprise, she hugged him. “Thank you. Be safe.”
His arms trembled, just for a second, before he hugged her back. “You too,” he said, and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I haven’t been hugged in... well. It’s been a while.”
She squeezed him harder for a bit, then let go. He followed her out of the room a few steps behind
, as befitted his pretended position.
The Don smiled his gap-toothed smile at them as they returned. “Good, good. Are you ready to hunt my prey?”
“Yes. It will take time and hard work, but I am ready.”
“It will take three days.”
“Um... excuse me?” Chase blinked. “Did I hear that correctly?”
The old man’s face was as still as a pond, as he explained. “Three days. Tonight is the first night of the full moon. The werewolves must kill every night of the full moon, and the full moon lasts four nights. If the werewolves kill all four nights, then stop, then even if they are hunted down afterward, the city will not know. The fear will grow until the next full moon. My business will continue to suffer, needlessly, for a month.”
Thomasi tugged on his goatee. “But if, over the next four nights, a night comes without a werewolf murder, then it will prove that the werewolves are gone. Which isn’t exactly certain proof, when you think about it, but it’s probably going to be good enough for most people.”
“You understand.” The Don nodded, clearly happy. “It’s the cowards I have to calm down. Smart people will believe me if I tell them the wolves are dead. Cowards trust only their fear. And there are far more cowards than smart people in this town.”
While he lectured, Chase shot Thomasi a concerned glance and met his eyes. Three days didn’t leave much room for Chase to stall. Would Thomasi really be able to escape Don Coltello’s hospitality and rejoin Chase?
After a moment, Thomasi winked, and his grin showed utter confidence. “Well! Three days shouldn’t change things much.”
“Ah, okay,” Chase nodded back. She would have had a lot more faith in his confidence if she didn’t know he was very good at lying.
The Don thumped his cane on the floor. “Shall we depart, then?”
“We shall... Nonno.” She didn’t like saying the word now. But it was expected.
They left together, and Chase gasped as she turned the last corner of the twisty steps. The room below was completely empty of people. No one behind the bar, nobody at the wide open door. Not a soul visible.
It was a very real display of power, and Chase got its meaning at once. There would have been no one to stop them if they had fled. But they would not have gotten far.
The stripped bodies of the men had been removed from the street. The mouths of alleyways still gave the impression of surveillance. Chase’s newly-sharpened perception detected shadowy forms in a couple of them. Pedestrians passed on the street and that, at least, was normal.
The Don’s cane clacked on the stained set of cobblestones, as he smiled benevolently at her. She wasn’t fooled but took his hand with her own smile. “Goodbye, Nonno. I hope to see you soon.”
“I hope so too. You have three days, mi piccola nipotina.”
And with that, he departed, shuffling away with Lachina holding one arm, working his cane with the other.
“No questions until we’re inside the city,” Cagna told her.
“You have a way in?”
“What did I just tell you?” Cagna sighed and strode off. Chase hurried to follow her.
It took a fair amount of work to keep up with Cagna. The lady had long legs and walked with absolute confidence and certainty. The thickening crowds of people gave way before her, and Chase followed close behind to benefit from her wake.
Due to the standard halven situation among taller folk, Chase spent a lot of time staring at Cagna’s legs, catching a glimpse of her tail now and again as she turned and her cloak slipped aside. She had a hole cut into her trousers for the appendage, and it was curly and black.
For a few moments it bothered her, and she couldn’t say why. A dog-woman was a strange thing, that was true, but Chase was way out of her comfort zone to begin with, and Cagna had at least been helpful...
Then she realized that it wasn’t the tail; it was the trousers. No woman or girl in Bothernot wore trousers.
Chase looked down at her skirts, and how she’d gathered them in her hands to keep from dragging in the mud. Why didn’t women wear trousers, back home? It was something she’d never questioned before.
Out on the main road, the line stretched on as long as before. Longer, even. But Cagna ignored it and walked toward a small door on one side. Chase followed, shooting awkward looks at the people she passed. They seemed to be universally unhappy, grumbling to themselves. The merchants and travelers near the front were staring at a small group of people, half of whom wore fancy pantaloons and carried pikes. They had breastplates and helmets over their shirts and seemed just as unhappy as the people in the line.
The other half of the group was dressed in fine leathers, but most of the men and women themselves were rough-shaven, with messy hair and muddy boots. In the middle, an old woman wearing starry robes and a conical hat stood glaring as the breast-plated group opened up a merchant’s crates, going through each one and holding up items for perusal. The steaming-mad merchant next to the wagon berated them loudly and was ignored for his trouble.
But Cagna passed all this and went and rapped on the door.
A panel at the top of it slid open, and a red-nosed man stared out. “Your business?”
“Don Coltello’s business.”
The panel shut. The door opened. And Chase heard angry yells from the line behind them, as the two stepped in. The red-nosed man wore pantaloons and a shirt in similar green and yellow colors to the group outside, but no breastplate. He mopped sweat from his brow with one glove, and glanced up and down the arched stone hall, warily. “How is the Don?” he asked, voice uncertain.
“He is well, and he sends his regards.” Cagna gave him a small pouch. “For your family, Bernardo. Your little one is what, almost eight now?”
“He is.” The pouch disappeared, and Bernardo smiled. “Come, there is no need for friends of Don Coltello to wait in such a line.”
Bernardo led them through the halls, past open doorways in the stone, that showed small offices and barracks. To Chase, who had just toured a prison a week ago, it all looked very familiar. Disturbingly so, and she shuddered as memories of blood and death ran through the back of her mind, screaming.
But no, this place had a different feel to it, she decided. It was by no means friendly, but it wasn’t sinister. The few cells she passed had somber looking people in them, but they were well lit and fairly spacious. The offices were full of working people, chatting back and forth, and shuffling papers.
The crest of a shield with a hammer and sewing needle adorned every wall, just as it adorned every breastplate she’d seen up close, Chase realized. These were the guards of Arretzi, and they seemed to know their jobs pretty well.
Then just as Bernardo had his hand on a door handle a gong sounded, echoing through the halls.
“What was that?” Chase asked.
Cagna glanced at her but let the question slide. “They’re moving someone important through. Who? I didn’t see anyone like that on the walk up.”
“I’m not sure,” Bernardo said, taking his hand from the door. “But we can’t go out there, not if a dignitary is passing.”
“We can’t wait here,” Cagna pointed out. “You know of our understanding. It would be... unseemly to linger.”
Bernardo’s nose flared, and more sweat gleamed on his brow. “I know, I know this thing... ah... let me think.” He chewed his lip, then seemed to come to a decision. “Come! We can watch them from the murderholes. The guards there will be watching the dignitary, they won’t care about you. Then once the gate is clear we can leave.”
Cagna just nodded, and Chase followed as the two of them made their way up two flights of stairs.
It gave a sense as to the vast scale of the wall; the place was a fortress in of itself. If all of it had passages and rooms through it, then it gave Pandora Prison a run for its money, she thought.
Then it was through and into a large, open room with cauldrons sitting on pillars ever ten feet. An arrangement of chains f
illed the air, tracing from the cauldrons to gears up above them, worked into the support beams of the roof.
The floor next to every cauldron had grated metal set into it, and around the room men and women wearing guard uniforms stared down into the well-lit space below.
“This way,” Bernardo said, and led them to a corner of the room, and an unused grate.
A black coach was below, with two very dusty horses receiving care and food from attendants. A crest adorned its side but the angle was bad, and Chase couldn’t make it out.
As she watched, a ring of guards with halberds leveled surrounded it.
“What’s this?” Cagna asked.
“Standard prisoner transfer procedure,” Bernardo pointed off to the side. “See? Here come the Jailors.”
“Six of them?” Cagna’s ears twitched.
“That’s odd,” Berndardo’s nose flared again. “Normally you get one, maybe two for the really dangerous ones. Six...”
And then the coach’s door opened, and to Chase’s horror and shock, she recognized the woman who stepped out.
“The Camerlengo!”
CHAPTER 6: OLD FACES AND NEW PLACES
Only when Cagna and Bernardo looked at her, did Chase realize she’d spoken out loud.
But how could she not?
Chase had last seen the Camerlengo in Pandora Prison, had left her there to the tender mercies of a psychotic wrecking ball of a prisoner that the official had tortured or tormented somehow. Chase had left the two of them to sort it out among themselves and fled for her life, knowing full well that the Camerlengo would hold a grudge if she survived.
Well she had, and now she was in the same city as Chase, and that was a problem.
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