by P. G. Thomas
Krisp sat up, “Better den sun? How many of us do you want?”
“No, it’s yours for free. You don’t have to do anything.”
“Nuttin? You dont want us to go which you, anywhere?”
Reaching into her pocket, Lauren pulled out the cloth that held the berries, offering one to Krisp, “It’s natural, even better than Sun.”
The young girl, never asking any questions, quickly grabbed one and swallowed it.
“What about us?” She looked at the lad covered in filth that Krisp had offered to her brother, “You just cant get Krisp off. It aint fair.”
The Guardians moved into the shelter, but Lauren held up her hand and resumed passing out the berries. In a matter of minutes, all were asleep again, and she reached out, touching Krisp’s temple. Immediately a vision appeared to her, and she saw the few black worms that remained being attacked by small white orbs.
“What do we do now?” asked Logan.
Lauren headed out to the street, “They’ll sleep for a while, probably until tomorrow. We’ll return then, bringing them some food and clothes.” Leaning on her staff, she looked down at one of the Guardians, “Can you stay to protect them until we return. If you don’t, somebody may just carry them off into the night.”
Nodding, when he slapped his metal blade to his chest, the blood wolves jumped out of the carriage window, bolting across the street. As Lauren headed back to the wagon, a small pile of ash from the staff blew away in the breeze.
*******
Steve was about to remove his sword, leaving it in the carriage, when he saw Eric exit, carrying the large weapon rebirthed with purpose from the demigod. As he walked up to the door of the thief guild, he rolled his shoulder, feeling the weight fall into his waiting hand. Steve quickly caught up to Ryan and Gayne, and as Eric knocked on the door, they heard the familiar ‘password’ from the other side.
Eric shrugged his shoulders, missing the sounds of the spikes thrusting out, “Don’t know it. Is Jedimac in?”
“He’s busy,” said a voice from the other side.
“I think he’ll make time for me.”
“Who you be?”
“A few people called me Eric, but most called me the Champion of the People, though an Earth Mother did call me genocide and carnage. Does that help?”
A wiry guard, barely five feet tall, opened the door and looked at the sword that towered over him. “Get in, ifs you breaks the door, I has to pay for it.” The thief nodded to Gayne and Steve, letting them into the smoky bar, “I check with da boss.”
Five minutes later, Jedimac opened his office door. As Eric had been waiting, he created an image in his mind, which the sword answered. In the darkness, Jedimac saw the electrical energy slowly discharging that danced up the length of the golden scabbard, and considering how long it was, it was not a short display.
Jedimac motioned to his office, “Get in here before walks in,” and then headed to his desk. Once seated, he looked at the group in front of him, “Eric, you are looking energized. Gayne, a pleasure always to see one of my most loyal customers. Empty Pockets, did you forget our rules?”
Eric tilted his head as he looked at Steve.
“You made an exception for him.”
“Since he is the Champion, he deserves the respect—ah, just screw it. I have little time for pleasantries or games. What do you want?”
Unfamiliar with the abrupt personality change, Gayne asked, “Is there a problem?”
“Damn council. More Calicon members are dead, and those that are not, did not show up for the vote today. It is just a matter of time before they close off the territory north of the Key.”
“So?” asked Ryan.
“About a year after our neighbors moved in, the guilds north of the Key started to—well, they simply were no more. With no guild able to establish a stronghold, it became a very lucrative territory. If they close it off, my revenues will suffer, and as a general rule, I dislike being on the receiving end of such discomfort. From what I hear, at the next vote, they will succeed in segregating the Bright Coast.”
“Is there anything you can do?” asked Gayne.
“In the past, certain guilds would creatively suggest how some members should vote, but in most cases, there was never a need to exercise those motivational concepts. However, the current trend would suggest that—certain concerned groups may be executing a strategy to sway votes in their favor, and yes, that pun was intentional.”
Gayne started, “Still—”
“How did your meeting with Rimple go?” asked Jedimac.
“Out the door,” Ryan replied. “Can’t you—counter them?”
“That story is as long as your friend’s sword. From me, what do you need?”
Before Ryan could begin, a young midlander girl brought over a tray with a single bottle and five glasses, filling each before quickly leaving.
“Expanding your business?” asked Eric.
“There are those who prey on the weak, but I am not one, although that really depends on your definition. Yes, while she is servicing a debt, it is of her choice or free will, you could say. You may question her if you want, as I have nothing to hide, nor how I treat her. Just as there are many shades of justice for those with wealth, there are an equal number of shadows of depravity for those who are without law. In my world, some light does bleed under the door of justice. Thus, I prefer the grays, avoiding the darkness that other guilds embrace. So, before your sentences grow shorter, I do not own her, nor is she a slave or treated like one. I am hoping that this temporary vocation will help to both teach her and her father a lesson. Now, what do you require of me.”
Eric shrugged his shoulders, “Working off a debt?”
“Yes. One gifted with numbers explained a strange concept to me, which he called ‘compound interest.’ While I never completely understood it, I did as he suggested, and started lending gold so cheap that I drove most of the wealth lenders out of business. They all thought I was mad, but then my clients started taking longer to pay, causing their debts to increase. Unfortunately, when some forfeit their debt, I need to find creative ways to regain my loss. Now, from me what do you require?”
Ryan began, “We need a job—”
“We are not hiring.”
Ryan continued, “We don’t want to work for you—”
Gayne quickly cut him off, “While it would be a great privilege to be in your employment, we have a specific need to gain an occupation north of the Key, which is why we were visiting Rimple. Regrettably, he was unable to lend his assistance due to—unexpected business that requires him to be absent for a few weeks.”
“Funeral?” Jedimac asked.
“Avoiding one,” Steve whispered under his breath.
Gayne nodded, “Something like that.”
“The best I can do is to sanction crime,” Jedimac advised, “as none of the guilds hold control of that territory.”
Eric tapped his sword on the floor, which sounded like a small clap of thunder. “Rimple said a week ago he could’ve obtained a contractor’s license from the sanitation department, but now he can’t. We were wondering if you could forge us one.”
“For a forge, you should seek out dwarves.”
Eric shook his head, “Not a forge, a forgery, a fake. You must have forgers on your staff?”
“Fake? Please explain this in more detail.”
Steve leaned forward, “Counterfeit, phony, imitation, copy. It’s like when somebody creates a copy of a painting, and it’s so realistic, that when sold, the buyer thinks it’s the original. We were wondering if you could get a contractor’s license, and then make us a copy so that it appears to be legitimate. If anybody questions us, we can show them the fake, so they’ll leave us alone.”
Gayne could see the gears of deception turning in Jedimac’s eyes.
“A fake permit? Basically, a presumably law-abiding reason to be where you are prohibited from being? As I understand it, you would like me t
o acquire one of these permits, and—why not just hire me to steal one and give it to you?”
“Then somebody might go looking for it,” replied Steve. “If you, uh, borrow one, making a copy, and then replace the original; the owner will never know that it’s missing. If he lost it, he would have to get it replaced, and certain individuals might start to ask questions to those with similar.”
“Acquire, duplicate, and return. Seems like a simple enough of a transaction, and you say others employ this technique to imitate precious objects, which they sell as if they were,” he paused, “originals?”
They don’t know about forgeries, Steve sighed, lowering his head, “Yes.”
Jedimac took a short drink, “Interesting, so I would need to employ craftsman, printers, and anybody else?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” advised Steve.
“I like a challenge,” but as Jedimac said it, he smiled. “So was there a specific permit you were interested in?”
Gayne replied, “I believe it is called a Sanitation of Horse Excrement Transportation, or SHET wagon for short.”
Jedimac pushed his chair back, “You want to shovel horse—”
“Yes,” replied Ryan.
“SHET wagon, is that what it is called? I have seen them …” Jedimac’s eyes opened wide, and he smiled, “Nobody would ever look at—brilliant, absolutely brilliant. If I know this group, they will want it tomorrow so return then, as I have a great number of inquiries and preparations to make.” Then he stood, left his office, and at the same time, one of the enforcers opened the outer office door, escorting them back to the street.
As they entered the carriage, Steve looked at Gayne, “If you wanted to purchase any fine art, do it soon,” to which Gayne nodded in agreement.
*******
Lauren was picking at her food that night, “I still can’t believe how—they’ll do anything to get more Midnight Sun.”
“That’s why they call it addiction,” Logan replied, “It gives them something they can’t get anywhere else, and they’ll do anything to get that feeling back.”
“Gayne, can you have your staff prepare some food that I can take them tomorrow, some old clothes as well?”
He nodded, adding, “Rimple had to leave unexpectedly, so he was unable to help us obtain the desired permit, but Eric had an idea where we could acquire one so we should have it tomorrow.”
Ryan smiled, “Then we can go where ever we want north of the Key, and nobody will follow or stop us.”
*******
The next morning after the meal, Mirtza dropped John off at the school, and then he continued into the Bright Coast with Ryan, Steve, Eric, Sam, Hope, and two shovels in the back of the open wagon. It was late in the morning when they pulled in front of the thief guild, and Ryan stayed in the wagon with Sam and Hope, having no desire to expose them to this side of the Bright Coast. Before Eric could knock on the door, it opened, and the same short thief quickly took them to the back office.
Jedimac’s elbows were resting on the desk as he cradled his head, breathing in the aroma of the cup of bean juice that sat on his desk. As the group entered, he leaned back, stretching his arms and yawned, “You are late. Where is Gayne?”
A nervous smile appeared on Mirtza’s face, “He had other plans.”
Eric adjusted the demi-mortal sword, “Late night?”
A weak smile formed on Jedimac’s face, “Is the first sun up?”
“All three,” advised Steve.
Jedimac wrapped his hands around the mug of bean juice, which was now lukewarm, and snapped his fingers. “It sounded so simple yesterday. Acquire, duplicate, replace. Putting ink on paper, I never thought it would be so complicated or cost so much.”
“Did you make us one?” asked Steve.
A different young midlander girl brought over a tray with mugs of hot bean juice and quickly left the room.
Jedimac raised his tired eyes to Eric, “Yes, different girl, same free will. If any more fathers forfeit their debts, I will have to open a damn school to train them all so do not start with me.” Then he took a long sip of the hot liquid, the others doing the same, and he called out, “Is the ink dry?”
A young man entered from the back of the office, his face covered with large black smears of ink from where he had wiped away the sweat. “Just finished the name, boss,” then handed the piece of paper to the head thief.
Jedimac opened a drawer, pulled out a second piece of paper, compared the two, and then placed both on his desk, allowing Steve, Eric, and Mirtza could view them. “For our first time, I think we did a respectable job.”
Steve pointed to one, “You still have the original!”
“Relax, we stole the entire wagon, and when they find it later today, the permit will be with it.”
“Other than the signature, they almost look like they came from the same press,” advised Steve.
“They did.”
“Please don’t tell me you stole the printing press that makes them because somebody will come looking for it.”
“I did not have to. The printer liked to gamble, betting that the council would never revoke his services, yet they gifted the business to a Darkpaye printer. While he had been making a remarkable effort to repay me, on several occasions had offered his equipment in exchange. As of a few days ago, I had no use for it, but with this new—venture, I need both the mechanism and talent to operate it. Now I own the press and have hired him with some of his family.”
Nodding, Steve was surprised at the level of ingenuity that the guild leader had discovered, “Why not just pay him to make them?”
“He might offer them to others, and I would lose control of the market and situation. If there were more SHET wagons than equine refuse to collect, more than those wagons would smell. No, the first rule a new guild leader learns is to maintain control, and by the same means, it is also the same rule the old guild leaders are first to forget. Later today, I will be applying for permission to the council for the exclusive rights to reproduce legal documents.”
“They’ll grant you permission to do this?” asked Steve.
“Not that one, the Shadow Council. The one that meets to discuss the activities of the night. Before anybody says anything, yes, I understand the irony of thieves meeting to discuss how to legally enforce unlawful breaches. However, it is the only way I can protect myself, so if somebody else wishes to give me competition, I would require no sanctions to change their mind. Also, if any would like to take up this new craft, then they would need permission from me, and in return, I would receive a percentage.”
Mirtza reached into his pocket, “How much do we owe you?”
“If it had been a simple theft, then I could have charged you the going approved rate and a service fee. As you have helped me, I am willing to consider the price paid in full— but tell none.” Then Jedimac handed the permit to Steve. “Please advise Gayne we are still trying to locate the two missing students, but to be honest, it would be easier to find a council member that refused praise.”
Steve stopped blowing on the damp ink of the forged signature, “Honest councilors? Here? I would never have believed it.”
“Not honest, dead,” began Jedimac. “Two more last night from what I hear. However, now the Bright Coast north of the Key will remain open for business. We are continuing our efforts and have invoked council support so that the other guilds are now helping in the effort.”
Once outside of the guild, Steve showed Ryan the permit, and he smiled.
“So let’s go,” suggested Eric.
“They see you with that,” Steve began, pointing at the gold scabbard, “They’ll never believe us.”
Mirtza handed Eric several coins, “Hire a coach to go visit John at the school.”
Chapter 23
That morning, after Gayne had the house servants load the wagon with the meager supply of clothes and food, Logan with Lauren joined him on the bench with the Guardians with their mou
nts leaping into the back. As they traveled the poorly organized streets, Lauren remained quiet, which Logan noticed, as they both watched the unwashed families and motionless children huddled in the dark alleys.
Squeezing her hands around the staff, she looked at Logan, “How do I help so many? And with a piece of wood?”
Logan began, “Gingaar, she—”
“She had time to think, to plan.”
“I know, but they’re innocents, and they don’t deserve this.”
“What about my daughters? They’re innocent, and we don’t even know—shouldn’t I be looking for them instead?”
“Ryan is—he’ll find them,” Logan’s voice went quiet, “If he can’t, then Mother can, so we need to help her first.”
“Can she? Fury said that Mother sent Earth Guards to find me, and they haven’t. If they can’t find me, how can anybody find my daughters? Why should Tranquil and Fury care about my children? They could be using us like last time!” Climbing into the back of the wagon with the silent Guardians, she took comfort in their detached presence.
An hour later, when the wagon stopped, she looked across the street to the broken shelter where the two silent dwarves with their blood wolves stood in the shadows. Jumping out of the back, grabbing a bag of blankets, she headed towards them. The Guardians also disembarked, each taking a basket of food, while Logan carried the last hamper. Gayne, unsure of what to do, stayed in his seat.
Lauren scanned the group of children who were no longer motionless, as tremors of withdrawal made them shake as they sat on the cold ground. She quickly handed out the assortment of blankets, noticing that there were fewer occupants than the day before. “Krisp, where are the others?”
She pulled a blanket tight around her body, “Da left, went looking for more Sun.”
“Why?” asked Lauren.
Krisp poked her hand out from the blanket, pointing to the street.
