At Large

by Andrew Seiple

  “You have to ask?” Bastien frowned at her. “Six on one, and that one a tiny young girl?”

  Chase frowned. I’m on a first name basis with a god. I could’ve handled that. Maybe. Probably? I mean Renny and I could. Maybe... she shoved it out of her mind as Cagna spoke up again.

  “So you’re an altruist, huh? Not looking for a payout?”

  “You are asking far too many questions for the exchange and violating the terms of the mystical contract!” The Muscle Wizaard shook a finger at her. “You meddle in forces you do not understand!”

  “Cagna, it’s all right,” Chase said, moving up and laying a hand on the beastkin’s arm.

  Cagna shook it off, and glowered, ignoring the “horse” she was “guiding” entirely. “No it is NOT all right. I just got jumped in the middle of Dona Tarantino’s turf by a gang. A freaking gang! This is the sort of stuff she should have in hand.”

  Bastien rubbed his beard. “I’ll ask a question then, while I can; why did they assault you? I’ve seen many victims in my time, and you, my lady Cagna, are not one. You are quite clearly dangerous.”

  “It’s because I’m dressed nicely and have a blade they could resell.” Cagna growled. “Nothing more.”

  “They called you a werewolf—” Chase began, only to be furiously interrupted.

  “Nonsense!” Cagna barked, sharp teeth flashing. “That was just the excuse!”

  “She’s right,” Bastien nodded. “With the werewolves driving fear up in the city, it would, at the very least, let them excuse away the killing later. They would say ah, we thought she was a werewolf, excuse us please. So sorry.” He glowered. “A lie to cover the most evil of intentions.”

  “What I’m saying,” Chase waved her hands frantically, “is that it doesn’t matter why Bastien saved us. It’s what he did that matters, and I...” I need allies, and this man has already proven he can save my life, she realized and said, “I want to reward him for his good works.”

  “No reward is necessary!” Bastien protested. “Any good man would have come to your rescue!”

  “I could have handled them,” Cagna growled again. “Just would have taken some time, is all.”

  “Yes, but if they’d caught me they would have killed me while you were busy handling them.” Chase said, patting her arm again. This time Cagna didn’t shake it off. “You’re good at your job, but there were just too many. We need somebody who specializes in groups, battling gangs, that kind of thing. You, you’re deadly one on one. But it wasn’t one on one. And how often will it be, really, until this madness is gone from the city?”

  Cagna turned her muzzle from Chase to the Muscle Wizaard, clearly struggling for words. Finally, she lowered her muzzle and rubbed the bridge of it, in a sort of face-palm. “So what are you suggesting?”

  Chase took a breath, and turned to Bastien, who had been watching the conversation with a bemused, almost fatherly air. But in his eyes, Chase could see the glint of hope. “Bastien... Mister Wizaard... could you perhaps spare some time to work for me? I can offer good wages and room and board until our business is done.”

  “Of course!” The Wizaard beamed and shook Chase’s hand.

  Cagna stopped facepalming and whipped her muzzle up, ears flat and alarmed. “What? Hey! I can’t... the Don doesn’t... I can’t pay—”

  “I can,” Chase said, as the Wizaard’s eyes flickered with worry. She pulled out the pouch Thomasi had given her and checked inside.

  After nearly dropping it, and clenching her jaw to keep her mouth shut, she pulled out two gold and handed it over to the Wrestler. If this is just half of Thomasi’s loose change, then he must be rich beyond all my wildest dreams.

  “Is the money all right? Or do you want more?” Chase asked Bastien.

  “All right? All right?” he laughed. “I had no idea how I was going to make it through the winter, let alone maintain my strict dietary restrictions. And you say room and board is included as well?”

  “It is. We’ve got a big villa with lots of rooms available.”

  The dog-woman winced. “Hey! That’s not your villa!”

  “Shush,” Chase shot Cagna a look. “There’s at least five or six empty rooms upstairs. He can have one.”

  “You realize that the Don’s son is living there, right? He might have something to say about it.”

  “Really? From the way the Don talks about his son, and the way he let us use it without talking to his son beforehand, I don’t think that what the son has to say is such a big deal.”

  It was a bit of a stab in the dark, but judging by Cagna’s grimace, it was pretty on point. “All right. But you’re paying for him. And any special stuff his diet requires.”

  “That’s fine by me. Heck, I can cook his food myself if I have to,” Chase said. “It’s the least I owe him.”

  The Wizaard beamed. “You owe me nothing, Lady Chase! I shall be your servant for this task. Whatever this task is. Uh... bodyguarding, I’m assuming, yes?” Now Chase could catch a cautious tone in his voice.

  “Bodyguarding, yes. And help with... well, I might as well tell you. I’m working with Cagna and her friends to find the werewolves.”

  “I see...”

  “Does that change matters? If you want to back out, that’s okay,” Chase realized, belatedly. “I won’t think any less of you. Werewolves are dangerous.”

  “Change matters? No, not at all!” The Wizaard laughed. “Right now I’m a face! Doing something like this is definitely good, that’s just the sort of cause that my buff can help with.”

  “You’re not concerned at all about going up against whirlwinds of claws, fangs, and murder. Unarmored.” Cagna scowled at the Wrestler.

  “No more than you are, lady,” the Wizaard smiled.

  “I’m better protected than you think. And I’m no lady.”

  “Signora, then. Sorry, my grasp of your tongue is a bit limited. I’ve only been here a few years.”

  “A few years...” Cagna considered him. “I thought Wizards got massive intelligence boosts. Learning the local language tricks shouldn’t be much of a fuss for someone with that job.”

  “Ah! Er. Well. As to that...” The Wizaard coughed. “I’m, er, I’m...” he muttered something so fast Chase had trouble hearing it.

  Cagna’s ears twitched. “You’re not actually a vizier? What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m not actually a Wizard,” said Bastien, taking off his pointy hat and staring at it morosely. “Where I come from only nobles or the very rich get to go to Wizard school. Or orphaned children of prophecy, and I’m no more that than I am the first two things.”

  “It takes that much money?” Chase said, frowning.

  “Well... I had enough saved to cover it, once. The first year’s tuition, anyway. But... by that time I had been Wrestling as the Muscle Wizard for a few years. But it turns out that unlocking Wizard takes a lot of math, and I’m, er... well, I’m bad at that. And then the admissions board heard about my wrestling career, and well... they didn’t have a sense of humor about it.” The Wizaard’s face sagged, and he kept staring at his hat. “They made me change my name. Now I have to spell it with two ‘A’s and people think I’m stupid. I’m... I’m not stupid,” he burst out. The rawness in his voice made Chase’s heart go out to him, and she patted his knee. “I’m just very very focused, that’s all,” he muttered.

  “There are other ways to learn that job than just the wizard schools,” Cagna pointed out. “Rogue mages could montage you, it’d take a day and they’d do it for way less than the schools charge.”

  “Yes, I suppose, but...” he sighed. “In my darkest hours I’ve considered that. But it wouldn’t be right. I don’t want to skulk and lie to get the job, I want to BE a Wizard! I want to stand among my peers and learn the secrets of true magic. I don’t want to have to hide what I am. I’m all about showing my stuff, and...” he sighed again, harder. “Besides, now that I caught the attention of the schools in a bad way, they
spread word around. If I start using wizardly magic without their approval, they’ll know I’m a rogue. And here and in the nearby countries, at least, they’ll put a bounty on me for that.”

  “Is it really that cutthroat?” Chase blanched.

  “It is around here,” Cagna nodded. “Even a Wizard who hasn’t been promoted by a guild can do some really dangerous stuff with magical experimentation. Same thing with Necromancers and Enchanters, and to a lesser degree, Alchemists. That’s why they have their own guilds in most places, and why they make sure there are big penalties for running without a guild.”

  “Cylvania isn’t like that,” Renny said, and Chase and the others jerked in surprise, and stared at him with varying degrees of wonder.

  Mind you, Chase was wondering how he was talking and managing the illusion at the same time. “Didn’t you need full concentration to conceal the air elemental?”

  “We’re at the gate to the villa. I let both the illusion and the elemental go.”

  “Oh! All right. Good work, thanks. Um... Cagna, should we borrow the horse to pull the wagon—”

  “No need,” the Muscle Wizaard said, stepping out of the wagon. “If it’s only into a courtyard, that shouldn’t hurt my back too badly.”

  Chase opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again. “Let’s at least get out so he has a lighter load.”

  Cagna snorted. “Right, because you’re at least a whopping twenty pounds, and that thing—”

  “Hey! I have a name!”

  “—that named thing over there is about two or three himself. Ah, come on. We need to talk anyway.” Cagna hopped out of the wagon, and unlocked the gate, motioning the others to follow her in.

  The gardener was out of sight at least, that was something. The sun was getting low in the sky, and Cagna led Chase and Renny inside to a sitting room. “So,” she said, locking the doors. “What the hell are you, little guy?”

  “I’m a toy golem.”

  “I’ve seen golems. They’re big hulking stupid things that do what they’re told.”

  “I’m a special kind. I’ve been given a gift of sapience.”

  Cagna shook her head, turning her gaze to Chase. “So your parents ARE that rich.”

  “What does that have to do with—” Renny stopped talking as Chase rested a hand on his head.

  “A little bit,” Chase lied. “He’s my other bodyguard. You understand why I didn’t mention him before?”

  Cagna actually smiled a bit. “I do. You’ve got more brains than I give you credit for.”

  A gentle knock at the door, and Cagna checked it, snorted, and let the Muscle Wizaard in. He’d traded in his hat and loincloth for a set of loose, flowing robes that hid his muscles. He could be mistaken for an elderly monk this way, Chase thought.

  “Done so soon?” Cagna asked.

  “Please! I started my career as a strongman. My warmups are harder than that little chore. So, what did I miss?”

  “Pretty much just me telling Cagna I was a golem,” Renny offered, hopping up on a nearby footstool.

  “A golem!” the Muscle Wizaard exclaimed. “The most magical of made creatures! Say...” he rubbed his beard. “My act would do much better if I had a er, trained familiar doing cutesy things. It would draw in the kids! Are you currently employed?”

  “He is,” Chase said, before Renny could speak.

  “Ah, bother. Well no matter, if you ever want to get into show biz, there’s always room in my wagon! Ha ha ha!”

  “That sounds fun! Sure, after I’m done here, maybe we can work together.”

  The Muscle Wizaard stopped laughing. “You really mean it? You’re serious? Wow. I... yes. That would be good! I think we’d make a great team.”

  “Anyway!” Chase said, trying to regain control of the situation. “We’re going to be working together to find and stop werewolves. So I think it’s cards on the table time—”

  “Again?” Cagna said, with a bit of snark in her tone.

  “Metaphorical cards,” Chase said.

  “Metaphyiscal? What?” The Muscle Wizaard asked, seemingly confused.

  “Meta... look. I need to know what you can do so I know how best to work with you,” Chase said. “I’ve got broad strokes. I know what Renny can do, and I know what I can do. You, Bastien? You’re a powerhouse. Cagna is murder on two legs. But if you have other things you can do, I’d like to know them, please. Fighting the werewolves isn’t our goal, finding them is. What can the two of you do? Maybe you’ve got strengths we can play to, there?”

  “As far as finding werewolves goes... I don’t have much there, I’m afraid.” The Muscle Wizaard shrugged. “Think of me as a Wrestler. My other jobs built toward that role and are mainly about combat and self-improvement. I... also, I don’t like killing, much, I’m sorry. If you ask me to do that, I’ll consider our contract terminated. Not that we have a contract.” He frowned. “Should we have a contract?”

  “I uh, don’t think so,” Chase said. “I don’t like killing much myself. I’m not good in fights and killing when you don’t have to seems like a good way to get in a lot of trouble. In fact that’s what I’m good at, talking people out of fights. Negotiating. Stuff like that.”

  “Good luck with that if we run into the werewolves,” Cagna said. “Full moon tonight. Their blood will be up. And it’ll be blood on the streets when they hunt.”

  “And what do you do, young lady?” The Muscle Wizaard adjusted his spectacles, as he studied the dog-woman.

  “Like the short stuff said, I’m murder on two legs. Leave it at that.”

  “Nothing investigative?” Thomasi said she had very good perception. She has to have some kind of job that contributes to that.

  “No,” Cagna said, but her eyes shifted, just a bit. Had that denial been a little too abrupt?

  Something in Chase’s expression must have given her doubt away, because Cagna waved a hand in irritation. “Once upon a time I got some Knight training. Then my country stopped existing, and I took to the wilds. Became a bandit for a bit. Got good enough at it that I unlocked Highwayman. But that was a long time ago.”

  “Highwayman!” The Muscle Wizaard frowned at her. “I don’t know if my image will survive working with a robber.”

  Cagna snorted. “Please! It’s a Knight and Bandit combo. I’ve got a code about who and when I can steal. And I don’t DO that anymore... for the most part.” She shifted her muzzle back to Chase. “Remember that mask I loaned you? I can disguise myself with it, make people forget the exact details about me. And I can command people to do things. And ride like the wind, if I need to. Does any of that help your plans?”

  “Don’t Knights use shields?” the Muscle Wizaard persisted. “And isn’t armor a key thing, there?”

  “Armor just slows me down. And anything can be a shield in a pinch. Cities are full of stuff or people that I can improvise with if I have to.” Cagna shrugged. “Be different if we were in the wild.”

  It might come to that, Chase said, remembering the dungeon. But not yet.

  “Okay. So now we know what we can do,” Renny said. “What about that clue that the ghost showed us?”

  “Oh? Oh! Right!” Chase hauled out the knife and the sheath and explained how her séance had gone.

  “...sadly I don’t think we can go back there,” Chase said, biting her lip as Cagna and The Muscle Wizaard passed around the blade and studied it. “The owner fell to pieces pretty hard during the séance. I don’t fault him for that, but I’ve known a lot of people like him. If I go back he’ll blame me for how he felt. At best he probably won’t cooperate, at worst he might report me for necromancy. Falsely!” She added, as the Muscle Wizaard shot her a dubious look. “That’s not necromancy! It just could be mistaken for it by the common layperson.” Or me yesterday, to be honest. I’ve had this job for a few hours, I’m by no means an expert.

  “It’s sized for a gnome. Or a halven,” Cagna said, studying the blade. “Seen a lot of use and a lot of
sharpening. Good eye on the sheath though, it’s definitely new. The dye is fresh.” She considered. “I could maybe get some guys together and go have a talk with the shop owner. Some quiet intimidation and he might tell us something more.”

  “You’d threaten a bereaved man over information he might not even have?” The Muscle Wizaard folded his arms. It took some effort.

  “Lives are on the line, here!” Cagna growled. “It’ll be night soon, and once that moon goes up, someone’s going down!”

  “I think it’s a bad idea,” Chase shook her head. “From what he was saying, his daughter ran the shop at nights, and he handled the daylight hours. What I think happened...” she took the blade back and stared at it. “What I think happened is that the werewolf brought the blade in to get a new sheath. He did it during the night and picked it up during the night. Or he planned to anyway, but... something happened. Maybe he lost control? I don’t know. But the point is, there’s at least a fifty percent chance that the shop owner never had any interactions with the werewolf in the first place.”

  “Unless the shop owner was telling the truth. That the werewolf just burst in there because it was the only shop with a light still lit that night.”

  Chase looked up at Cagna and shook her head again. “No. No, the door was unmarred. She let him in. Besides, the séance confirmed that she knew the werewolf. He had to have been a customer. She wouldn’t have let him in that night... assuming it was a him. Gods, I should have asked that. There just wasn’t time.” She rubbed her face.

  “You did the best you could,” Renny tried to soothe her.

  “It’s not enough. Night’s going to come soon, and someone’s going to die.” Chase started pacing back and forth, drumming her frustration into the ground. “There are three more murders I could be looking into, and I haven’t even started! I don’t know how to start.”

  “About that,” Cagna said, hesitating for a second. “I uh, might have a few ideas.”

  “What? You didn’t before. What changed?”

  “What changed was you proved to me that you’re taking this seriously, and that you can take care of yourself. To a point, anyway. Or at least that you’re smart enough to hire help so that you don’t have to risk your own rump.” Cagna swept a hand around to indicate the Muscle Wizaard and Renny.