When she hired me on, Tanis put me up in a room with a few other lads at the brothel. This was ultimately going to save me having to run all the way back to Oskari every night for the free room and board with Ivana. It was bad enough I'd already be running back and forth to check on Strauss every day, and then about half that far and back again to see Zacharias every night. See, there’s only so much running even a Strachan can stand, and I hadn’t done so much running since I was still in training. So, after leaving the crypt my first night, I made my way back to the brothel. It was pushing dawn.
I slid into bed, but it didn’t go unnoticed.
“You’re getting in late,” said the chap in the bunk beside mine. Johan was the masseur.
I chuckled. “I’ve got a lover,” I answered—quietly and confessional-like. “Gotta sneak it in whenever and wherever we can.”
Johan smirked and nodded knowingly. “It’s hard to find time for socializing outside the Gander with the hours we keep, you’ll see what I mean.”
“Aye, but you especially, mate. You’re high in demand. I’ve seen the schedule.”
“Would you two shut up?” another lad jabbed. But it was more like a poke in the ribs with a butter knife than a full-on kidney puncture. Ben was one of the dancers.
“Hey, we three should go out,” Johan said.
“Now?” Ben asked.
“No, tomorrow night after our shifts. That is, if Jack can sacrifice getting laid?”
“I’ll manage,” I replied. “But I can’t be sure if he will.”
The lads laughed, and we made plans for the next night.
Obligatory Strauss Check-In:
Hour 1:
? Ate a sandwich for lunch consisting of air between two slices of bread.
? Spoke with a lass outside the church about her composting routine.
? Had a chat with Father Belaia about a spider he swore he released out the window every morning but would find its way back into his room every night. They debated over whether it was the same spider. Strauss insisted he could never forget a spider, and that this one had an unusually large butt (all right, he called it an abdomen) and one white leg. Father Belaia asked him if he’d been getting enough sleep.
Hour 2:
? Had a nap.
Hour 3:
? Woke up fine.
Hour 4:
? Still fine.
Obligatory Ivana Check-In:
? “Cookies.”
Obligatory Alexander/Faust Check-In:
? Councilwoman Faust was still away.
? Alexander was still smoldering.
? No change.
My second shift at the Goose and the Gander went well enough. I wasn’t any closer to uncovering anything to do with the Ambiance in connection with the brothel, but those things generally took a minute. It wasn’t my first drug job. So, I spent most of the evening quietly tracking names and whatever other personal information I could glean from the clients and employees. I’d check in with Vivienne Delaterre for the real gossip soon.
So, successful second shift, and as it turned out, the idea of a good night for the Jaskan lads meant going to the Three Drinks for some shitty ale. After work, that’s exactly what we did. We found a table around back, not far from the big one the guards had been sitting at that one evening. We ordered two rounds right off the hop, and a basket of plain, undercooked roasted potatoes. Not even a single grain of salt between them, mates. We all counted the floaties in our drinks before clinking. Aye, the Three Drinks promised a terrible tavern experience and delivered it in droves. It was almost always busy.
“Feels good to get out.” The dancer popped a potato in his mouth.
“How long you both been at it?”
“Two years for me,” the masseur answered.
“Three,” the dancer added. “Best job I’ve ever had. Best boss, too. The pay isn’t half bad either. Really helps out our families.”
“Hey, it’s the Strachan,” someone called out suddenly. “Get your fingernails in yet?”
I laughed so hard seeing as it was absolutely not funny but he tried. I wiggled my fingers in his direction, nails out. “Just yesterday, mate.”
He grinned, and so did I. But before I could turn back to my friends, he added, “We all had a hell of a time that night, kid. Followed by an incredibly sad day, but—it really was the perfect send off for a great man. So, thanks.”
The patrons raised their glasses, toasting the former Captain. I raised mine too, saluting in traditional Amali. Because what else could I really do or say? Glad you lot had fun—sorry I murdered your mate. I heard he was a jerk, though.
“What was that about?” the dancer asked.
I explained the game of True or False, and they both had a chuckle.
The night progressed, we were six rounds in, and I was still completely sober. But the dancer and the masseur were on their way out, and that was right where I needed them to be. I wobbled once or twice on my way to the bar. Most Strachan Partisans had sense enough to hide our alcohol-resistance secret in front of the foreign Barrens. I wasn’t about to be the one to blow it.
“Ben snores, so I’m getting my own room,” I called back over to the lads. “You both want your own rooms?”
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“We’ll share,” Johan answered.
I settled the tab, and we all clunked our way up to the third floor.
I had a twenty-two minute half-nap when I got to my room, and then I gave it a bit more time to be sure. There weren’t two available rooms beside each other that night, so I couldn’t hear if the lads had fallen asleep yet. But their room was on the opposite end of the hallway, and I could easily skirt around outside their window without being seen. My own window was a large two-sided one with wide panes that opened like wings.
I opened it, stepped out on to the slope, closed the window, and hopped down.
On my way through the city, I spotted the flower shop, Florea’s—around front of the Steel Needle. And then I thought to myself, “Wouldn’t that be nice?” so I picked the lock and swiped a bouquet of purple flowers.
A Day in the Life With Zack - Entry Log #2
“You’ve brought me flowers?”
“It’s customary to bring flowers when visiting the dead, isn’t it?”
“This is absurd. I’m going back to sleep.”
“No you’re not. Sniff the flowers.”
“No.”
“Sniff them.”
“I can smell them perfectly well from here, Feargus Finlay. They smell like flowers. Good night.”
After Zacharias closed the coffin lid on me and refused to speak, I sat with him for a while anyhow. Getting that man to face the world for more than thirty minutes at a time was proving to be my greatest challenge yet. When I caught myself falling asleep, I left the underground for my own safety.
Dawn had barely broken by the time I emerged. I didn’t think it was wise to leave the flowers for Zack, so on my way back through the city, I gave them to a random lass opening up the general store for the day. She was happier than he was, that’s for sure.
But when I approached the Three Drinks, something was wrong. Dozens of locals, a handful of the guard including Captain Kavelin, all gathered around something. I couldn’t see exactly what was so interesting from where I stood, so I climbed to a higher vantage and looked down.
When one of the guards glanced upward, I ducked behind a chimney.
Getting myself into a better position on the rooftops, I peered toward the commotion. One of the guards was speaking quietly with Ben, and when a few of the other guards moved out of the way, I spotted what everybody was gathered around. Johan lay sprawled on the cobbles, his arms and legs bent in unnatural directions. I followed the trajectory, and the window belonging to their third storey room was swinging wide open.
Setting aside the shock of the moment, I focused in on the conversation below. Ben looked deathly pale and spoke quietly between uncertain shrugs.
“I don’t know where he got it,” he said. “He never told me. We just thought it might be fun to try. We were locked in a room, we didn’t think anything—it all happened so fast.”
Ben shook his head when Captain Kavelin asked if he had any tablets on him, and he apologized for the intrusion when he had one of his men search him anyway. They didn’t find anything. As much as I wanted to stay for more, there were a lot of people down there, and I wasn’t in the right mood for putting on a show. I also didn’t want to go back to the brothel knowing yet another thing I shouldn’t, so I went to see Vivienne instead.
As expected, she gave me what I needed about the employees and clients of the Goose and the Gander, and my next step was to look into Johan’s client list with that new information in mind. When I returned to the brothel, Captain Kavelin was at reception with only one other guard and Ben. Tanis and another employee were crying.
I acted surprised when I heard the news, and then appalled, and the whole rainbow of expressions when you find out someone you just met recently has died. Ben seemed relieved to see me, which made me think he’d been worrying about where I was, and well—the guilt was real, mates, and I didn’t have any crackers to go with it.
The brothel didn’t open that night.
A Day in the Life With Zack - Entry Log #3
“No flowers this time?”
“No.”
“No other unwarranted gifts?”
“No.”
“Not even a cutting remark deceptively wrapped in irreverent humour?”
“Are you going to sit with me tonight, or should I come back tomorrow?”
“Come on, then, Feargus Finlay. We’ll sit.”
“What do you have against flowers, anyhow?”
“The endless dying plants thrown upon the stage, left in our wagons, shoved in our faces. Centuries upon centuries of that nauseating smell. But I’ve had time to ruminate, and it was a thoughtful gesture. Now, how was your day?”
“Truth be told, I’ve had better ones.”
“A work related matter?”
“Aye. One of my mates died unexpectedly. I mean, I hardly knew him, but—”
“What happened, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“He took a drug—Ambiance, did you have that back in your day?”
“The hallucinogen?”
“Aye. Took a flying leap out the window of the tavern in the city.”
“I see. How tragic. But why do I get the sense you feel responsible?”
“Because I’ve been tasked with sniffing out the source of these drugs. That’s why I’ve been working at a brothel, and where I met the lad who died.”
“Is this what you do, then? Solve crime?”
“I’m technically an intelligence operative.”
“I see.”
“Right? Who’d have thunk it. But they spread us a bit thin sometimes. Rhian and I—that’s the sister I mentioned before—are sort of a special case.”
“How so?”
“Well, they’ve kept us together our whole lives. It doesn’t usually happen that way, unless you’re bound—which is like being married.”
“Why do you think they’ve done that?”
“I’m not sure if you know, or maybe things were different four hundred years ago, but when we’re brought to Palisade as kids, we’re given this extensive psychological test. We take another one when we’re twelve, and another one when we’re either fourteen or sixteen, depending when we’re being sent on our first job.”
“I didn’t know. I haven’t had close relations with—do you like being called Partisan?”
“Well, it’s better than Blessed One. Who wants their acronym to be B.O.?
“On this we agree. So, you and your sister took this test?”
“Aye, and I only know this because I’m privy to more information than most, but the test determined we had perfect compatibility in the fundamentals, and each of our weaknesses were made up by each other's strengths.”
“…Two halves of a whole.”
“Aye, exactly. The Councilwoman at the time reckoned they could get more out of us together, see. Not to mention, Rhian always had trouble making friends with the other kids, and they clocked her early as a high risk to defect.”
“And your roles are the same?”
“Rhian’s an Enforcer, which in our world just means someone who enforces Palisade law. What that actually means in practice can be pretty flexible. They usually have us tracking down the defected individuals the Chasers haven’t managed to get yet.”
“And then they’re given a trial?”
“Uhh—no, not exactly.”
“I see. So, do you have any promising leads on your drug business?”
“Listen to you, Strawberry Rhubarb Pie. A true detective now asking about leads. But the only lead I have now is a dead masseur. He was a popular hire.”
“Well, I’d like to place a bet.”
“On what?”
“That your drug culprit is most assuredly a client of your masseur's. And a man. If I’m wrong, you may have my cane. I’ve seen you eying it, Feargus Finlay.”