Kate Novak - Masquerades

"No," Edna announced, possessed by some wisp of courage. "He's been shaking me down, like you said."

The swordswoman pulled Edna's pouch of money out of Littleboy's cloak pocket and tossed it back to the bar owner. To Littleboy she said, "I suggest you leave this place and not come back."

"You shouldn't interfere in my business," Littleboy said. "I have powerful friends."

"Then you should stay with them for a while," the swordswoman replied.

Littleboy sighed and twisted as if he were about to hop down from the barrel stool. A second later, he thrashed out with his right fist to slash his poison needle across the swordswoman's face. The lizard snarled, and the adventuress reacted with lightning quickness, grasping the extortionist firmly by the wrist and bending his arm backward.

"That hurts," Littleboy gasped. The lizard brought a pewter tankard down on the Night Mask's head, and blackness claimed him. "Now what?" Edna asked.

"Call the watch," the swordswoman said, as if it were simple.

"It'll only be Littleboy's word against mine," Edna complained. "And, like he said, he has powerful friends."

The adventuress held out the extortionist's ringed hand. "Carrying poison will get him hard labor and banishment from the city, no matter who his friends are," she pointed out.

"So it will," Edna said. She took the tankard back from the lizard and started wiping it clean again, only now she wore a grin. "Fritz," she called to the pensioned dock-worker, "fetch Durgar's boys round, will ye?" With an uncommon flash of festive generosity, she added, "There's a free ale in it for ye."

The pair of adventurers followed Fritz from the bar-. Edna began going through the unconscious Night Masks pockets, pulling out the money pouches of all the other businesses Littleboy had terrorized tonight. There would be enough, Edna noted, to buy a new bar, maybe even an inn.

Just then, the red-headed warrior woman poked her head back through the door and said, "Edna, my friend wants me to remind you that everyone else Littleboy shook down was hurting like you, and could really use their money back. Since you know the neighborhood businesses, could you please see to getting the money back to the right people?"

Big Edna nodded wordlessly. The adventuress left again. Big Edna stared longingly at the pouches of gold. With a long sigh, she began making a list of the other neighborhood businesses she knew had been paying protection to Littleboy.

By the time Alias woke up the next morning, Drag-onbait was gone. By nature, the saurial was most active at dawn and dusk, and he never seemed to need much sleep in the warm season. Alias, on the other hand, felt most active after dark and would sleep the morning away whenever she had an excuse. She wondered which of her creators had established this pattern in her. Finder, as an entertainer, would have kept the same sort of hours, but so would the Fire Knives, who had expected her to become an assassin like them.

Alias rolled over and sat up. Someone had set breakfast on the table. The swordswoman vaguely recalled having heard a knock on the door and Mercy's voice earlier in the morning. The young half-elf must have lost her fear of the saurial. Alias padded over to the table. Once again breakfast consisted of tea, fresh-baked muffins, and fruit, but today she had time to admire the details she'd missed yesterday. The china teapot and teacup were nearly translucent and gleamed like mother-of-pearl; the butterfwas molded into clamshell shapes; decorating the bowl of berries were pieces of melon cut and shaped like dragonflies. There was a fresh-cut red rose in a bud vase of frosted glass. Alias could see why this particular inn did not advertise among adventurers; they generally wolfed down food without looking at it and were notoriously hard on china and glassware.

Alias sat down to eat, musing over yesterday afternoon's events, starting with the meeting she and Drag-onbait had had with Mintassan. The experience had tested her patience and her conversational skills to their limits. They'd started with the requested conversation about saurials. The sage had asked Dragonbait so many questions, even Alias had learned things about saurials she hadn't known before. When, after at least an hour, Mintassan had shifted the topic to Alias's background, she'd turned the tables and started grilling him about his theory on the transmutation of creatures into other creatures. Finally, when she felt she'd learned enough about the beasts of the Prime Material and Outer Planes to qualify as a sage's apprentice and had Mintassan at ease, she'd shifted to the topic of the Night Masks.

To her disappointment, it soon became evident that Mintassan, like most sages, lived in his own little world. His understanding of the city's problems came to him secondhand. "Mostly," so he said, "from Jamal." Although he confirmed Durgar's claim that the Night Masters and the Faceless could not be located with magic, he did not concur with the priest that they did not exist. His reasoning, though, had more to do with Jamal's certainty that they did than with any firsthand experience. Jamal, Alias realized, was the "sage" she needed to consult to learn more about the Night Masks.

Mintassan had walked them back to Blais House for dinner. They'd ordered the recommended pan-fried prawns, which were indeed excellent. Mintassan was also a gourmand, and during their discussion of Westgate eating establishments he revealed one useful piece of information. He'd mentioned the extortionist Littleboy, who was apparently responsible for the decline of one of Mintassan's favorite taverns. The sage had left them with a promise to set up a meeting with Jamal, and after a brief nap Alias and Dragonbait had gone out hunting Night Masks.

Abas began dressing, reflecting on her progress against the Night Masks. They'd come across the midden man and several muggers and purse snatchers, thanks to Drag-onbait's shen sight. Without the paladin, Littleboy might have been her only coup, and if the extortionist hadn't been such a fool to use a poison ring, the watch might not have arrested him. She needed more informants.

She also needed to start watching her back. So far, she and Dragonbait hadn't challenged anyone with a stomach for fighting, let alone any real skill with a weapon. That was bound to change soon, she realized. Even if it meant bringing in hired help, the Night Masks would find ways to protect their operatives and try to stop the swordswoman and her companion.

Alias was brushing her hair when Dragonbait finally turned up. The vanilla scent of amusement wafted off his body, and he made a strange clicking noise that Alias recognized as chuckling.

"Well?" Alias said, fastening the longer strands of hair at the nape of her neck with a ribbon. "Are you going to let me in on it?" "I was checking on Jamal's troupe's new play. Come down and see." Although the paladin tried to sound casual, Alias could tell he was itching for her to come.

Alias sighed. "You always did have this childlike fondness for puppet shows." She buckled on her scabbard. and grabbed the last muffin to munch while she watched the show.

They did not have to go far. Jamal's troupe had set up stage on the foundation of the burned down warehouse only three blocks from Blais House. A large crowd had gathered in the empty lot around the razed building.

A halfling with a gigantic green plume in his hat was juggling eggs. A green feather, Alias recalled, was the trading badge for the Thalavar family. Jamal must have good relations with the halflings of this town, Alias realized. Usually halflings" wouldn't participate in human theatrics, and human producers cast children with brushes tied to their feet in the eoles of the smaller people.

Behind the stage bobbed the cutout of a ship. The crow's nest, though, was real, and from it the Faceless looked down at the halfling. After a moment, the Faceless tossed an egg at the halfling, which the halfling skillfully added to the three it was juggling. The Faceless added a fifth and then a sixth egg, which the halfling also juggled smoothly. Frustrated by the halfling's dexterity, the Faceless threw a seventh egg stage left. The egg splattered against a great wagon wheel decorated with golden stars-house Dhostar's trading badge. The wheel began spinning and moved toward the juggling halfling with a menacing growl. The halfling alternated between alarmed looks in the wheel's direction and tucking eggs in his pockets even as he juggled them. Before he could dispose of the last three eggs, the wagon wheel rolled into him, forcing him off the stage. The eggs hit the stage, plop, plop, plop, and then there was a splash of water up onto the stage.