The enormous courtyard in front of us was obviously the entrance checkpoint for this particular avenue. It was big enough to be a city park. A burgundy cobblestone street circled a large median of grass, a few well-groomed fruit trees and a marble fountain at its center. To the right there were several fancy horse drawn carriages lined up, markings on their sides leading me to believe they were for hire. The cobblestone echoed a nice clopping sound every time one of their hooves struck the ground. To the left were a few finely constructed wooden booths. One appeared to be an information center although I’m sure in a place this fancy they called it the concierge stand. Another booth was selling some weird looking lamps while a couple of the others appeared to be storage for items while people were shopping. But before we could explore any of that fun, there were a dozen or so guards in front of us checking everyone in.
As one might expect, a place full of Veil folk wasn’t just going to use boring humans as their police force. They were centaurs, all of them. Frankly I thought that showed some racist hiring practices, but what can you do? Both males and females graced their ranks, their colorings mostly shades of brown with the occasional grey, black, or white haired steed. Their uniforms consisted of simple yet elegant tunics of green silk with lots of gold embroidery along the neck, shoulders, cuffs, and belt. A golden horseshoe emblem on their chest marked them as a unified force. Upon all of their backs were identical short swords, finely crafted, and well suited for battle. Two of them trotted over to us and made it clear they didn’t understand the term personal space. Or perhaps this was how they treated anyone who lacked the high-end fancy clothes that those around us wore.
“Welcome to J Street. Please state your business today,” the left horse asked.
“Greetings. We are here for a day of shopping in your fine establishments,” Freddy beamed.
“Very well. As you can see we have plenty of carriages should you require one and if you need any assistance today the Centaurians are always on patrol.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at the mention of their names. That seemed to draw the ire of the right horse who hadn’t yet spoken. He sneered at me and gave a snort before shuffling forward.
“Also a reminder. We have a zero tolerance policy for thugs or thieves,” right horse snarled.
“Well good thing we’re not those,” I mocked.
Clearly I’d angered right horse. But come one, Centaurians. How could I not laugh at that? Left horse, the senior and clearly more professional member of the force cleared his throat and gave right horse a look.
“Happy shopping and good day to you,” he said, gesturing us forward.
Once Freddy and I were out of earshot I decided to apologize. Not normally in my nature, but he was doing me a favor and I’d probably just embarrassed him at his favorite place.
“Sorry Freddy, no idea why they got so upset. I’ll try and be a bit friendlier from here out.”
“It is not your fault BD, they are very sensitive about their name,” Freddy replied.
“I wonder why?” I laughed.
“It is not the Centaurians that causes them discomfort, but rather their nickname, the Cloppers,” he whispered the last part.
“The Cloppers? That’s hilarious.”
“Yes, I can see how one would find it amusing in a very spot-on kind of way. However they take great offense to the nickname. When you laughed, I believe they interpreted it as you inferring Centaurians was not their real name. I would suggest we avoid using Cloppers if at all possible,” he tried.
“Don’t worry pal, I plan to let you do most of the talking today.”
Freddy smiled and gave me a thanking nod. We were standing on the grass median, far enough away from everyone that we could talk in relative privacy. Even so, Freddy gave a cursory glance each direction and lowered his voice as he continued.
“I do not wish to be presumptuous with spending your funds, but I think we should hire a carriage for the day,” Freddy said.
“Sure. I trust you know what you’re doing pal. Are we going to be traveling pretty far today?”
“Yes, that is part of it. At least two of the shops that we will need to visit are a considerable distance down J Street. But I believe this will be best for two other reasons. First, a carriage will provide an ideal spot to store our acquisitions. Several of which shall be pricey and it will be comforting to know they are secured with us until we leave. Alternatively we would either have to carry them or have them shipped to one of the front holding areas,” he said, gesturing towards the wooden booths, “The second reason, is that time is of the essence. The carriage will speed our shopping and it allows us to depart as soon as we have all the items we seek. Otherwise we might have to wait as our purchases are delivered to the front.”
I could tell that Freddy was seriously worried about doing the right thing here. It was kind of crazy. Honestly, I didn’t know Freddy that well, but from the moment I met him, he seemed like a genuinely good person. He struck me as the type of guy who would always try and do the right thing. Even by a stranger. Which made him a far cry from the killer standing in front of him. I gave him a more serious smile and clasped him on the shoulder.
“Freddy, I trust you. I know you’re going to do what’s in my best interest. I’m incredibly thankful for your help. One day I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”
Freddy’s cheeks showed a bit of red as he gave me an embarrassed but thankful smile, “I do not require thanks BD, I am happy to help a friend.”
It was clear he meant every word. Freddy was such a nice guy. I couldn’t help but worry that he was too nice. Our business wasn’t always so forgiving. In the field you needed to be a bit mean. Hopefully I was enough of an ass for both of us.
Freddy led me over to the carriage waiting area and signaled for one to pick us up. Although most of them were painted yellow, which I found very amusing, the one that pulled forward for us was a pale blue with lots of brass accents. I stepped back in order to avoid those giant wooden wheels rolling over my foot. I could make out a few metal coils and some oddly bent wood underneath that made up the suspension system. This was going to be my first ride in a carriage and although I understood it wasn’t the latest and greatest in technology, I was very glad that they at least tried to make the ride comfortable. The driver, a man dressed in a grey uniform that was clearly inspired by a tuxedo, tipped his short brimmed cap to us. He pulled a lever and the doors opened automatically welcoming us in.
“Where might I take you fine gentleman today,” he asked.
“Baxters will be our first stop my good man. The first of many stops in what could be a fairly full day. Are you available for the duration of our shopping?” Freddy asked.
“That I am. Welcome aboard. Please step inside and we shall be on our way,” he replied.
Freddy nodded and jumped into the cab and I followed. The doors closed of their own accord and the driver gave the horses a “hyah”. The sound of the horses’ hooves clopping on the cobblestone forced a small chuckle from my mouth and Freddy couldn’t help but smile as well. The carriage wasn’t very fast but the ride was smoother than I would have guessed. Whether western movies gave me the wrong impression or if this was just the combination of well-maintained roads and good suspension, I have no idea. Either way, our carriage was moving faster than we would have been if we walked, so it seemed to be the right choice. As it was a closed top carriage, the ride also gave Freddy and I a semi-private place to converse.
“So, Baxters?”
“Yes, Baxter’s Bottles and Blades is the first stop on our journey,” Freddy smiled.
“Bottles?”
“Baxter is a master ceramics craftsman. I realize that is not the standard image one brings to mind when thinking of a blade manufacturer, however two of the items we require are of the ceramic nature. While Baxter’s is not the biggest ceramic weapon manufacturer on J Street, their weapons are of sound quality and they charge much more reasonable prices,” he fin
ished.
“Well I appreciate the frugalness as long as it’s not at the cost of quality.”
“You need not worry about that. Baxter’s ceramic blades are just as fine as anything you might find at Wixler’s or Verdant’s.”
“I assume those are the big boys?”
“Oh yes, Wixler’s Weapons is the largest weaponry shop on J Street. Followed closely by Verdant’s High Quality Arms,” Freddy said.
“Good to know. I assume we’ll be visiting them for our other weapons?”
“Only if we are unable to obtain what we seek from other venues. I believe I can find us substantially cheaper prices on weapons of equal quality at alternate locations. Should my efforts prove unsuccessful, we shall visit those shops.”
“I’m kinda shocked Freddy, I’d assume you’d be dying to hit the biggest shops on J Street?”
Freddy gave me a devious smile before answering, “While it is true that shopping at the larger locations can be quite pleasurable. It is often in the smaller and lesser-known locations that one finds the most interesting and unique artifacts J Street has to offer. I am a bit embarrassed to admit how excited I am that we need a Shifting Dagger. That will require a stop at Gizmo’s.”
The smile on Freddy’s face threatened to cut his head in half. I couldn’t help but laugh at how excited he was.
“Is Gizmo’s one of J Street’s fancier shops?”
“Not at all. Officially named Gizmo’s Dungeon after the original owner, it is in fact located in the basement underneath of Marcopolis, a maker of fine furniture. Gizmo’s is perhaps one of J Street’s greatest treasures. But I am getting ahead of myself. First stop, Baxter’s.”
“Right, Baxter’s first,” I laughed.
“Indeed,” he beamed.
Freddy rambled on about Baxter’s ceramic prowess as we enjoyed the ride. I stared out the window and watched many fancy buildings go by. It was clear that like the government buildings in DC proper, J Street was heavily influenced by neoclassical architecture. Freddy’s word, not mine. That’s apparently smart speak for everything appeared to be built by the ancient Romans and Greeks. Occasionally we passed a storefront with a more modern look, but those were the exception and not the rule. I almost asked Freddy about them, but then my mind started to wander back to Vix and I sort of lost track of things. I had no idea what was going to happen after this was all over but I knew things were going to change drastically. After far too long stuck in my own head, the carriage came to a halt and brought my attention back to the moment at hand.
“We are here,” Freddy smiled.
Again the door opened automatically and I stepped out in front of a large marble staircase leading up to a building that made me think it was a slightly scaled down Supreme Court.
We walked up the dozen steps leading to the eight giant pillars holding up an ornately carved pediment. It was easily three stories high. Two enormous wooden doors, big enough to protect a castle from an invading army, were open and welcoming us in. A basketball sized orb hung above the doorway, shining a warm welcoming light. Since we were in part of the Veil, I knew that electricity would be practically useless, so any illumination not caused by fire was very likely magic.
Inside the door we stepped into a very large room. Orbs similar to the one above the door hung from the ceiling and upon the walls casting their warm glow throughout the establishment. The room was easily two hundred feet deep and almost half as wide. Along the left and right walls countless bottles and vases were on display all the way up to the forty-foot ceiling. Even a layman’s eye like mine could tell they were very expensive. They appeared to come in every shape, size, and color one might require. Numerous shelves lined the floor, filled with various bottles, pots, and vases. These were also quite fancy looking but clearly the less expensive merchandise. The back wall however, contained the items of our desire.
Swords, spears, axes, and many other large weapons hung at angles that showed off the quality of their craftsmanship. A long glass display case ran the entire length of the back wall, various daggers and smaller blades inside. Behind the case was the only employee I noticed in the store and if I were a guessing man, I’d say it was Baxter himself. He just looked like a Baxter.
He was a tall thin man. The top of his head was bald, circled by bushy white hair. His ears appeared almost comically oversized and easily held up his thin framed round glasses. He had a long nose and a thin white beard. A simple white collared shirt was under a black apron, various tools resting in its pockets. His bronze skin led me to believe he was of Middle Eastern decent, but the accent he spoke with was pure British. No wonder Freddy liked him.
“Welcome back Mr. Blair, how may Baxter serve you today?” he said, his arms gesturing wide and giving a slight bow.
“I guess you come here a lot?”
“Not as often as I would like. But Baxter never forgets a customer,” Freddy smiled.
The weapons in the case were of every color and shape you might imagine. Straight, curved, swirly, pointed, dull, and many other designs I don’t even know the name for. I could tell that some of the blades were ceramic but most of the collection looked anything but. The majority of the weapons were painted in beautiful colors while a few seemed purposefully understated and plain. I felt like Indiana Jones being tricked into wanting a fancy weapon when the actual Holy Grail was the simple cup in the center. Lucky for me, Freddy was the one who had to choose.
“Greetings Mr. Baxter, a pleasure to see you again,” Freddy said, returning the slight bow.
“The pleasure is mine. Might I point you in a particular direction or are we simply browsing today?”
“Today, Mr. Chang and I are in the market for two very specific blades. I am hoping you have them in stock. We need a Tri-Charred blade and a Rusting dagger,” Freddy smiled.
Baxter didn’t even flinch at the mention of my name. I like that in a person.
“Two very specific weapons. Not something you would find in the GHOST armory I imagine. A few elementals giving you trouble?” Baxter smiled back.
“We are just preparing for heated negotiations,” Freddy replied.
“Understood. While I have a few Tri-Charred spears if you prefer,” Baxter said, gesturing to the wall behind him, “I also have three new smaller pieces which travel easier.”
“I’m always a fan of a smaller and easily concealed blade,” I smiled.
Baxter gave a small smile and nod as he started walking down the display case. He stopped at the end and reached into the case pulling out three weapons. The first had a very simple wooden handle, a small pummel, and a yellowish ceramic blade about six inches long, slightly curved and sharpened on one side. The second was much fancier. The entire weapon a seamless solid ceramic piece. The grip was painted grey with black runes drawn upon it and the blade itself was colored in reds, oranges, and yellows, making it appear as if it was on fire. The third weapon was somewhere in the middle as far as fanciness. Also forged from a solid piece of clay, the handle had grooves for my fingers and the blade itself was double-edged and about nine inches long. The entire weapon was painted blood red.
Freddy looked at the three blades and then up at me, “which blade would you prefer?”
“Is there a difference in blade strength or sharpness or anything else I should know about?”
“All of my crafts are of the highest quality and properly tuned,” Baxter smiled.
I nodded and picked up each of the blades, getting a feel for them. I was pretty sure I already knew which one I wanted, but ceramics can sometimes be odd with their weight so I figured it was best to check. The fully ceramic pieces had a better balance for throwing if the need occurred. They were each sharpened on both sides, my preference for a knife fight. But the red blade just felt better in my hand, as I thought it would. So, I went for the less fancy looking piece. Baxter nodded and wrapped the weapon in a silk cloth before carrying it to the center of the display case.
He then walked to the
other side and pulled out only one weapon, laying it on the display case. I waited a minute to see if there were more to choose from, but he just stood there. I looked at Freddy to see if he was going to say anything but he just nodded at the weapon approvingly.
“Only one option for this one huh?”
“No, I have a couple more daggers of this type, but this is the one you desire,” Baxter stated confidently.
I admired the confidence, but when it came to weapons I wasn’t sure how I felt about someone else telling me what I wanted. The long dagger in front of him was very similar to the red one I’d already chosen. The blade was a bit longer and wider in the middle. It was also a solid seamless piece, dull orange in color, a swirling stripe running its length almost as if it was a clay candy cane. I glanced at the other knives in the case in the same general vicinity and guessed those were the other choices. Assuming those blades were the alternative, he was right, this would have been my pick. I hate being predictable, but we were in a hurry and I wasn’t going to argue mystic knives.
I couldn’t help but smile as I picked it up. It felt even better than the red blade. This weapon was definitely balanced for a fight. I twirled it in my hand a bit before nodding and putting it back on the counter.
“Is this weapon acceptable,” Baxter asked, nodding towards the blade.
“Yeah, it feels great. Well picked.”
Baxter gave a smile and nod that almost seemed humble before wrapping the knife and carrying it over to the first. I guess I shouldn’t be too shocked. A master craftsman like Baxter probably gets really good at knowing what his customers want. He packed both blades into a wooden box, his name carved across the top in fancy script. Freddy opened my briefcase and exchanged a considerable amount of gold coins with the man. There were several small bows and thank yous before we could leave. But once the pleasantries were finally over, Freddy handed me the box and we were on our way.
G.H.O.S.T. Teams (Book 3) Spirits Page 6
