Skulduggery 2

Home > Other > Skulduggery 2 > Page 7
Skulduggery 2 Page 7

by Logan Jacobs


  “Wow,” I gasped. “You look amazing.”

  “You’ve seen me in this costume before,” she said with a smirk and turned to shut the door behind her. As she did, her colorful silk skirt twirled behind her.

  “It gets better every time,” I said as my eyes followed the curve of her perfect ass.

  Cimarra blushed, even though I could tell she tried not to.

  “Aww, ain’t that sweet,” Dar teased as he grinned and shook his head.

  “So, we’re all here.” Penny cleared her throat and looked away from Cimarra and me. “What’s the plan for the day?”

  “We have to get more grain, like you said, and we need to talk about Hebal.” I gestured to the rickety table we dragged in from the back of the theatre.

  “I’ll take care of the grain,” Dar said as he raised his hand.

  “How?” I asked.

  “I’ll talk to my family and see if there are any distributors Adi used,” he replied as he tapped his chin. “Get me a list of what I need--”

  “You’ve been distilling with me for the last few weeks, and you don’t remember what we need?” I snickered.

  “Well, I don’t want to fuck it up,” Dar said with a grin. “You are the brains behind this whole thing. Just write me out a list of how many pounds of what type of grain we need every week. I’ll go ask around town--”

  “Discreetly,” Penny reminded him.

  “Yeah, discreetly,” Dar continued. “Then I’ll let you know where we can get some for coin.”

  “Okay, great,” I said. “Thanks for taking care of it. Now, for our second issue: any ideas on how we handle our untrustworthy distributor?”

  “Yes,” Cimarra said and placed her hand on Dar’s shoulder. “Congratulations, you’re hired.”

  “To do what?” Dar asked with uncertain eyes.

  “To deliver a case of pastries to me and the theatre girls every week from Adi’s Catering!” Cimarra replied as she flung her hands up in the air in mock celebration.

  “Okay … ” Dar hesitated and sounded disappointed.

  “I’m kidding, in a way.” Cimmara turned to all of us now. “At least the theatre’s books will say you are.”

  “Okay,” I echoed Dar, but I liked where she was headed.

  “As of now, a few customers ordered some product from Adi’s to be delivered on the same day every week.” The dancer unfolded a piece of paper tucked inside her bodice and extended it to me. “Here’s a list of those places and what they want.”

  “Okay,” I said again and unfolded the list to see a few names of some businesses. “What’s the plan from there?”

  “As you can see, the first delivery is to the theatre,” Cimarra began. “A single batch of cookies, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said as I started to put together her plan in my mind. “And during the delivery to the theatre, we load up the whiskey in the back of the catering wagon?”

  “You got it.” Cimarra nodded. “From there, you’ll go to Alexi’s Cafe, to fulfill their small order of a dozen muffins.”

  “Where’s that?” Dar asked.

  “I know where, don’t worry,” I answered my friend.

  “Then, you finish up at the ‘Retired Dwarven Miners Association.’” Cimarra cleared her throat. “They meet somewhere different each week in the Dwarf District to hold their meetings, and that’s where we’ll tell Hebal the whiskey exchange is.”

  “I assume I’ll tell the dwarf where to meet the day before the event?” I asked.

  “Exactly,” Cimarra replied. “After you finish the last delivery and drop off the whiskey to Hebal, you can drive the wagon back to Adi’s.”

  “We’re just a normal catering business doing normal catering business things,” I remarked.

  “That’s right.” The dancer smirked. “We not only make coin doing the deliveries, but it keeps our stables hidden from Hebal or anyone else.”

  “How do we get back from Adi’s?” Dar wondered.

  “We can remove the branding from his other beat-up wagon and drive it back to the stables,” I suggested.

  “Without being followed,” Cimarra added.

  “Of course.” I smiled.

  “To wrap this up, we use the deliveries and the miners event as a cover to transfer the barrels to Hebal’s men, collect our gold from him, and make some extra coin from the other deliveries on top of it.”

  “I like it,” I said as I continued to think the plan through.

  “How’d you even get in touch with the miners and the cafe?” Penny asked and drummed a finger against the table.

  “Have you seen our clientele at the theatre?” Cimarra waved a hand in the direction of her workplace. “There are a lot of dwarves, and one regular is the director of the Miners’ Association, and on most days, a friend of the count’s. The cafe was easy, one of the girls who used to dance with me married the owner. So, it was an easy deal. We should think about getting more customers though.”

  “I can ask around while I investigate where to buy grain,” Dar offered.

  “The miners might be an issue for Hebal,” I said as I stood from my seat and slowly circled our small group.

  “Why’s that?” Cimarra asked as she watched me walk by her in thought.

  “Hebal and the miners are still involved in their territorial war over control of the Dwarven District,” I explained. “This could start a large-scale fight I’m not sure we’re ready for.”

  “That tension can work to our advantage, though,” Penny chimed in and shrugged.

  “She’s right.” Cimarra nodded toward Penny. “This could help keep Hebal honest. He doesn’t have to know how we came into contact with the miners, but he’ll worry if we are close to partnering with them instead of him.”

  “True,” I allowed, “or it could push him over the edge and make him want to kill us sooner. Either way, this will take some convincing during our meeting today.”

  “You’re good at convincing,” Cimarra encouraged me with a smile before she turned to the rest of the group. “Any other questions?”

  “I don’t have a question, but I think this can really work,” Penny began. “It keeps our distilling location secret since the miners’ event is in a different spot every week, we return the carts to Adi’s, Hebal remains in check, and we make some good coin.”

  “I have another question.” I raised my hand as if I were a kid in class back at the orphanage. “When are we doing this?”

  “I have the deliveries scheduled in the middle of every week at noon,” Cimarra said as she looked to Dar. “Starting this week.”

  “Wait, that’s tomorrow!” Dar’s face was panicked as he ran a nervous hand through his curly hair. “How much do we need to make?”

  “A dozen muffins for the restaurant, a dozen cookies for the theatre, and … ” Cimmara pursed her lips, “one hundred and fifty muffins of any kind for the miners.”

  “Every week?” Dar’s black eyes shifted to me and seemed to scream for help. “We need to hire Marver full-time.”

  “I agree.” I nodded and calmed my best friend, who looked like he was about to get murdered. “If you can find him, do it today. If not … ”

  “Looks like you’re a chef, Dar.” Penny pointed and laughed at the halfling.

  “You’re helping me!” He pointed a short finger right back at Penny, who flinched.

  “Ah, shit,” Penny sighed as she realized Dar was right.

  “For this week,” I said, “Penny and Dar, hire Marver and his crew full time, and then go get whatever you need to bake the muffins and cookies.”

  “Fits with my other grain shopping task.” Dar nodded as his nerves began to subside.

  “Once you’re finished, you’ll both drive the cart full of pastries back here,” I said as I clapped my halfling buddy on the shoulder, “where I’ll be waiting to load the whiskey and finish up the rest of the deliveries with you.”

  “We should go and get started.” Penny grabbed Dar and pull
ed his arm toward the door. “Actually, we needed to get started like two hours ago.”

  “Pay Marver whatever he wants!” I yelled as they left the stables to begin their baking session.

  The dust settled for a brief moment, and Cimarra’s hand rested on my shoulder.

  “And you’re off to see the dwarf?” she asked before she kissed my cheek. “What’re you gonna say?”

  “I’ve gotta tell him he’s picking the whiskey up from me as we make a delivery to his rival, the Miners' group.” I laughed at the absurd thought and gently pulled her flush against me. “By the way, where do I tell him to meet us tomorrow?”

  “The Burnandy Union building,” she answered as she brought her hand to my chest. “He’ll know where it’s at.”

  “Perfect,” I whispered and raised my hand to my forehead as if I forgot something. “You know what else we need to do? We could uh--”

  “We could what?” Cimarra smiled seductively and looked up at me with her eyes that could kill.

  “We could find ourselves naked over there.” I nodded toward my makeshift bed where Azure was turning in a circle to get comfortable.

  “That would be nice, but Azure wouldn’t appreciate it,” she giggled, somehow snuggled herself even closer into my chest, and then pulled back to face me. “I’ve got practice I need to get back to anyway.”

  “You love to tease me, don’t you?” I smiled and wrapped my arms around her back.

  “It’ll never get old,” she purred as she traced her hand around my waist, “but really, I have to go.”

  “Don’t miss me too much,” I sighed and brought my lips to her forehead.

  “I’ll see you soon,” she whispered as she touched my jaw with her delicate hand, kissed me, and turned to walk to the door.

  Cimarra blew me another kiss as she opened the stable door, and I watched her perfect ass walk out before I glanced back at the whiskey.

  “Let’s go break the news to the dwarf,” I muttered to the barrels, and then I made sure the rainbow keys were still nice and hidden.

  “You have anything to say to me?” I asked the keys.

  But they didn’t respond, so I locked up the stable and joined the orchestra of smells, sounds, and sights that was the Entertainment District.

  “A beard would suit you well, good sir!” a human street vendor with a crazed look jumped in my path and waved a brown bottle full of liquid in my face.

  “Insta-Beard Oil?” I read the label and shoved the vendor off to the side.

  “Come in for a good time, baby,” a human woman wearing a golden mask beckoned me with her finger outside of a dancehall. “I don’t bite.”

  “No, thanks.” I shimmied past her, but as I did, I saw something fly toward my face from the left. I twisted my face out of the way at the last second to dodge what looked like a half-eaten chicken wing.

  “Ya stole ma meat you fat fuckin’ disgrace!” a food vendor screamed at a red-faced dwarf as I turned toward the source of the flying food.

  “Ya wasted good meat throwing food at that human!” the red-faced dwarf wailed in laughter as he wiped grease from his lips and nodded toward me.

  “Keep laughin’ why don’ ya?” the dwarven vendor thundered as he pulled a rusted cooking knife from a drawer on his food cart.

  “Aye, ya want a brawl over one piece of meat?” The red-faced dwarf spat on the ground and pulled his blade out, too.

  As if there wasn’t enough to do in the Entertainment District, a crowd quickly gathered around the brawlers and started laying bets down on who would win. Then whistles echoed down the street as either the dwarven patrol or Elven Guard came to address the situation.

  That’s what a giant melting pot of all four districts created.

  A stew of madness.

  “Fuck this,” I muttered to myself and continued on my journey to meet with my own angry dwarf.

  I kind of liked the chaos of the Entertainment District. With so much conflict in the streets, it was going to be hard to trace our business activities. I figured we would eventually have to start up a second distilling location, but that was a problem I’d have to figure out a solution to in a few months.

  I kept walking for another couple of miles through the crowd, and the sights and sounds of the Entertainment District faded away. The Dwarven District was less noisy, and the spiced aroma from the various food courts soon took over my senses.

  Every dwarf I passed narrowed their eyes at me as if they wanted to exchange punches. The dwarves were always ready to fight, and even the muddy streets looked as if they were crafted by someone who hated their job. I disliked this district, but this was where I had to travel if my business was going to make any money. Dwarves were angry assholes when they were sober, but I intended to get all of them drunk, and get rich while doing it.

  Well, as rich as a human could get in this world.

  I wondered what it would be like if humans were respected throughout the realm. What would that look like? Would it even be possible?

  Yes.

  The keys’ melodic voice jolted my heart.

  “You’ve gotta give me a heads up before you talk,” I murmured, and then I waited for a response.

  Of course, none came.

  “I left you in the stables, so how are you doing this?” I asked aloud.

  “Huh?” A stubby dwarven woman peered over at me with small eyes.

  “I uh--” I shook my head, but before I could finish my sentence, the woman swung her thick handbag at me, and I had to step to the side to avoid getting smacked.

  “Human, skat!” the dwarven woman hissed as she took a menacing step toward me. She was about two feet shorter and eighty pounds lighter than me, and I could kill her in an instant with my dagger, but she probably figured I wouldn’t, since she was a dwarf and in her home district.

  I moved away from the angry woman a few more steps, and then I quickened my pace to get more distance. I felt a bit of anger burn in my chest, but there was nothing to do about it. I needed to focus on getting rich, not bickering with old angry dwarven women.

  A few minutes later I made it to Hebal’s shop, took a deep breath, and prepared myself for yet another dance.

  Outside stood a bulky bull-like dwarf who looked at me as if I had insulted his mother. He was standing guard, so he was probably one of Hebal’s thugs.

  I avoided the dwarf’s death stare, opened the front door, and heard a bell that hung from the top jingle when I walked through.

  That was new.

  The stale smell of old books and leather filled my nose as it did the night I robbed the fucker blind. The stone floors were just as dusty as the last time, and a new shelf hung on the wall closest to the door, but it too was lined with the same old junk and trinkets Hebal displayed so proudly.

  I looked toward the front of the store and saw the burly dwarf was busy with a customer. He gave me a side-eye when he saw me walk in and raised a finger to indicate he wanted me to wait a minute.

  “Aye, down the road a bit and ya should see it just fine,” Hebal said as he rested his hands on his belly, and I noticed his hairy arm was still bandaged from our last meeting.

  “Thank you for your help.” The dwarf customer finally turned to leave, grunted at me, and the bell rang as he exited the shop.

  Then Hebal and I were left blinking at each other in silence for a moment.

  “Long time no see,” I broke the silence that was as thick as his beard.

  “I don’t see any barrels,” Hebal grunted, and then he meandered along the front counter, passed me to lock the front door, and stopped to gaze out the window. “No delivery today?”

  “Should we talk here, or … ” I motioned toward the door behind the counter with the golden elven lock.

  “Here’s fine.” He crossed his arms and glanced toward his guard near the door.

  “How’s that healing up?” I ignored him and nodded to the bandaged wound.

  “Fine,” he scowled. “Where are my
barrels?”

  “Do you really think that would be the best idea?” I asked. “To just drop off ten barrels of illegal whiskey on your front porch as if it were milk?”

  “Aye, that’s the idea, ain’t it?” Hebal refuted as he gestured toward me with his hand. “Ya give me the whiskey, and I sell it.”

  “And how should we give you the whiskey?” I prodded.

  “I dunno.” Hebal shrugged. “We’ve discussed before how I can drop off vases to you, then you fill them up with whiskey, and then drop them back off to me here at the shop.”

  “Well, with ten barrels of whiskey, that would mean you’d need to have two-thousand vases ready for me every week.” I whistled. “That’s a shit ton of vases. Now, think about when I’m ready to ramp up production to twenty or more barrels a week. That’s at least four-thousand or more vases!”

  “Hmph,” Hebal grunted as he scratched at his beard.

  “I’d rather make this easier and not harder.” I clapped him on the shoulder, and he didn’t like that. “Do you want to hear how this is going to work or not?”

  “Aye, please,” the dwarf said with another grunt.

  “The day before we drop off a shipment, I’ll come chat with you just like I am right now.” I pointed to the floor and continued. “I’ll give you the time and the place we are to meet the following day.”

  “So, you don’t have a ready shipment, do ya?” the dwarf snorted and rested his hands on his belly.

  “I do, but if you don’t want to distribute it I can find--”

  “No, no,” the dwarf growled. “Get on with it.”

  “It’ll be the same day every week, but a different location,” I said as I walked over to the counter and leaned my back against it. “You, or your men, will bring a cart to the decided location to pick up the ten barrels. Then, it’s up to you if you want to distribute using vases or any other of your shitty trinkets.”

  “Okay, fine then.” The dwarf tapped his belly and shrugged. “Where and when are we meeting?”

  “Tomorrow at noon.” I took a deep breath and saw his posture stiffen as he awaited the rest of my answer. “The back of the Burnandy Hall.”

  “Burnandy Hall?” He grimaced. “As in the Burnandy Miners’ Union Hall?”

 

‹ Prev