Chapter 26 – Belt Buckle Ballet, Second Verse

  Demi

  Demi jogged through until the aqueduct’s walls gave way to a narrow cave passage. It turned and twisted upward a way, but Demi had to pause to catch her breath. Every inch of her swam with fatigue. The damn sell sword! Being mana broken felt like a suffocating steel blanket forced every movement toward earth. She leaned against the rock wall for balance while she loaded her last bolt into her crossbow. After which, she continued up the passage. The river sounds peaked, and the passage gave way to an open area. Orange-red evening sunlight blinded Demi for a moment before her eyes adjusted.

  They were in a cave carved by the Crescent River, a wide cavity somewhere under the high hills of Woodpine. A small lake separated a rough, rocky perimeter, with water swelling in from the glowing cave mouth. On the opposite side of the lake, ancient gantries and scaffolding for shipwrights stood in ruin. Further down the rocks, Demi spotted a moored Lencian caravel with two masts that threatened to scrape the top of the cave. An uneven gangplank extended between the deck and rocks where the smugglers’ crates were stacked.

  The countess stooped low, nearly crawling along the rocks until finding a position behind two stacked crates. From here, she saw the caravel flew no flag, nor had any name been marked – a pirate’s vessel. Voices came from nearby. Demi flattened against the boxes and peeked around the other side to spot the halfling Rupert with his back turned, watching the orc Fezzle take awkward steps up the gangplank with his arms full.

  Demi realized she wouldn’t get a better opportunity. She waited for Fezzle to reach the deck, then locked her eyes on Rupert’s back.

  “Come on, Fezzle!” Rupert was calling. “You’re pretty much giving money away – there is no way they’re getting through our helmsman!”

  The countess steeled herself, pivoted out from her hiding spot, and curled an arm around Rupert’s small torso to heft him to her chest!

  “Don’t squirm,” Demi hissed and pressed the loaded tip of the crossbow against Rupert’s jaw.

  “Holy fuck!” Rupert squealed but went limp in her grasp. Demi considered herself fortunate he was just a talker. She cast her gaze to Fezzle, who watched from the deck with amusement.

  “A name, now,” Demi demanded. “Or I shoot.”

  “Oh no,” Fezzle taunted, “please don’t shoot Rupert, anything but shooting Rupert!”

  Rupert swore in indignation.

  “You are overly loyal for mercenaries,” Demi said. “You would be protected from reprisal. We have means.”

  “Loyalty?” Fezzle guffawed. “I just wanna see Rupert get a new blowhole!”

  “Stop joking around!” Rupert shouted.

  “You dumbass,” Fezzle said, “I’m stalling for Smiley to get here.”

  “You’re the dumbass for saying that out loud!” Rupert fumed.

  Demi dug the tip of the bolt in to shut him up and stepped to the foot of the gangplank. Fezzle moved to the other end on deck, blocking her advance.

  “You’re in an interesting spot, countess,” Fezzle said, his voice suddenly turning erudite. “If you use your last bolt to kill my friend there, you then have me to deal with after. If you use your last bolt to shoot me, you might get me, you might piss me off. But if you do manage to get me, then you’ll have a Smiley swearing eternal vengeance, and so, really, your whole thing here-”

  Cling-clang-cling-clang!

  The echoes of clashing blades bounced across the lake. The three of them glanced over to see Olivia and Smiley emerge from a high passage over the scaffolding and gantries. They exchanged blows while dancing across the rocks.

  “Tydra’s fucking trident,” Rupert said with awe.

  “Wow, hey don’t shoot Rupert yet,” Fezzle added, similarly amazed. “I wanna watch this, nobody gives Smiley a real fight.”

  Even Demi couldn’t help but be distracted by Olivia’s fight, though she kept her hostage held inescapably.

  Smiley and Olivia fought their way onto the scaffolding. Then, Smiley flourished his blade and retreated, making a running leap off the scaffolding! He grasped a gantry rope, and it creakily began swinging! Olivia followed, making the same jump, barely catching hold of Smiley’s ankle as he swung away on the gantry. Their paired shouts bounced across the lake as they made an arc through the air, the rope going taut.

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  Creak, groan!

  The gantry’s ancient pilings gave out; the entire thing tilted and began collapsing. Smiley and Olivia lost their grip and flew through the air at the caravel.

  Crack, splash!

  The gantry collapsing made a deafening roar that overpowered everything, even the sound of Olivia and Smiley crashing down onto the caravel’s deck and rolling over each other. The pair were heaving great, laborious breaths, both completely soaked in sweat. Olivia was the first to try and stand, however –

  The door to the captain’s quarters flung open, emitting a broad-shouldered human man dressed in yellow Bavolian finery.

  He handled a metal-and-wood tube with a lit match and pointed it at Olivia’s face. A matchlock – these were new, rare, expensive, and deadly. Thankfully, the cat-folk seemed to recognize she was in danger and held her position.

  “That’s quite enough,” the man called.

  He wore a cape with the seal she’d seen at Finn’s, now clear enough to recognize. She hardly needed the seal after seeing his face, though. She motioned her crossbow against Rupert, locking eyes with him.

  “Bertoldo Viola,” Demi said, “breaking embargo for the Florentines? Have the Violas fallen to thuggery?”

  Bertoldo gave her a cold look.

  “I have no idea who you are,” he said.

  Smiley, winded, rose to his feet and said: “this one said Lady Delacroix, sir.”

  That made Bertoldo emit a cruel laugh.

  “Oh, that’s why,” he said. “This is why I love working for the Florentines! They don’t pawn their nobody lords around to do dirty work.”

  “You mean like you are presently?” Demi spat.

  “This – this is beautiful work,” Bertoldo said, gesturing to the crates. “I’ve a mind to let you live just to see the fruits!”

  Demi cast her gaze to Rupert. This really wasn’t the best position.

  “Let my bodyguard go,” Demi said, “and I’ll let the halfling live.”

  Bertoldo’s amusement seemed unbounded.

  “I don’t know where you’ve been,” Bertoldo said, “but killing each other’s commoners is a time honored tradition!”

  Smiley and Fezzle both fixed Bertoldo with nervous glances.

  “Hmm, though, what say you, crew?” Bertoldo asked. “Do we want to save Rupert?”

  “I’d-” Smiley said, hesitantly. “I’d rather y’did. Uh, sir.”

  “I most certainly would!” Rupert yelled. Demi cupped his mouth.

  Bertoldo looked at Smiley with a vicious smile, the smoke of the matchlock snaking between them.

  Silence, save for the river. Then:

  “Fine,” Bertoldo said at last, “we’ll draw first blood another day, Delacroix. I’m sure you’re itching to run off back to Dotour like an adopted lapdog. It won’t matter.”

  He kept the matchlock held on Olivia as he roughly stood her up and brought her to the gangplank. She looked exhausted, yet her courage held, even as Bertoldo pressed the tip of the weapon to the back of her head.

  “Her first,” Demi demanded.

  Olivia stepped down the gangplank in careful, measured strides. Bertoldo, to his credit, pulled the match from his weapon, lowering it.

  “Surprisingly noble behavior,” Demi noted, releasing Rupert and allowing him to flee up to the deck.

  “There will still be a place for honor in the world,” Bertoldo replied.

  Demi didn’t know what he meant, but it sat ominous in her chest.

  “What are you saying?” she asked.

  “Oh,” Bertoldo said, “if I said much more, I would have to get bloody today. So don’t press your fortune, Delacroix – walk away.”

  Demi and Olivia both kept their eyes on the caravel and its crew, carefully retreating back into the aqueduct passage.

  Once they were well clear, Olivia emitted a moan of utter exhaustion and slumped down to lean against the wall.

  Demi felt it too, actually – she flopped down where she stood, all the exertion finally exceeding her physical limits.

  “Are you alright?” Demi asked. She now had time to notice the black-purple bruise around Olivia’s eye, as well as the fresh cuts in her leather armor. Somehow, the cat-folk’s smile stayed warm.

  “I’m okay!” Olivia said. “Um, it probably looks bad, huh?”

  Demi nodded.

  “Quite bad,” she said. “But, all told, pretty light for your first successful adventure.”

  Olivia furrowed her brow.

  “Successful?” Olivia repeated. “They got away! The bad guys!”

  The countess couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “We weren’t here to stop them, remember?” Demi said. “Now that the Violas have been revealed, the real work can begin.”

  “Stuff like infiltrating? Espionage?” Olivia asked. “But like, the real versions?”

  “Indeed,” Demi said, “perhaps even a little – subterfuge.”

  The cat-folk blinked in honest surprise, then giggled.

  “Did you just try a joke?” Olivia asked. “Pretty good!”

  “Perhaps you’re infecting me,” Demi said, laughing.

  They sat in silence for a few moments, before Olivia perked suddenly. Then, she looked down.

  “Hey Ivy,” Olivia asked her chest, “did that count?”

  Demi wondered if Olivia might be getting delirious from exhaustion – at least, until her armor responded.

  “Mm, I suppose,” came a voice. A small pink sprite flew from Olivia’s armor, making a dramatically sad expression as it flew over her head.

  “Aha!” Olivia said, wiggling in place. “Take that! I didn’t need a panda smelly rock after all!”

  “But kitten, this means I’m leaving,” Ivy said, fluttering in close. “No more guardian fairy!”

  “I-” Olivia haltered, her ears flattening. She gave a self-conscious glance to Demi. “I’ll miss you, but you gotta go!”

  The sprite took a moment to scratch at Olivia’s ears, causing her to laugh hoarsely and flop onto her back.

  “Farewell, hero-cat!” Ivy called, then spiraled off to disappear into a momentary seam in the air.

  Demi blinked several times, reckoning with what just transpired.

  “Was that-” Demi began.

  “She’s gone!” Olivia sounded triumphant. In a burst of energy, she leapt to her feet and snapped the buckles of her armor free in rapid succession. She hurried to pull pieces off, but Demi cleared her throat pointedly.

  “Er, right,” Olivia said, pausing. “I’ll wait until we’re out of here.”

  “I’m sure your sleep will be much improved,” Demi commented.

  “My everything will!” Olivia said. “Although – is it bad that I’m kind of going to miss having a fairy watching over me?”

  Demi was too tired to quell her sarcasm: “you know we have this thing called religion?”

  Olivia scratched the back of her head and gave an uneasy chuckle.

  “I really should pick one, huh?” she said.