Pay the Pipers [Lyra]

[Mino]

17 Glade 121

The last time Mino had found himself in Midden...he didn’t really remember, and that alone was testament to the fact that he’d gone without being there for so long. He, vaguely, knew that he’d been small when they’d brought him here before. It made him useful to be tiny. The memory of it tugged at his mind, clearer than most others. Probably because his life had been endangered down here. Now, though, he wondered what the use for him was — he was much larger than the last time he’d been here, and dressed not quite like a perfect gentleman. He supposed this could just be another sort of con, with yet again the potential of him ending up dead at the hands of cutthroats. He wouldn’t have put it past Canary.

The woman walked ahead with her corgis, head held high and smile on her face. A smile that didn’t fit the lofty vision of herself. The dogs were careful to stick close to their mistress, returning to her every so often. They were well-trained, he reckoned. But it was Lady Honey that stuck close to him. Her arm was looped around his elbow, straw yellow hair pulled up into a bun with some strands escaping. Done purposefully, of course. Tastefully. It was calculated much like the rest of her. The brown bark of her skin gleamed with the sheen of skin oils and her eyes seemed fixed ahead of her. But he knew she was looking, much like the both of them. Mino kept pace, making sure his strides were not too long, but not too short that she would be slowed down.

One might wonder what nobles would be doing out in the Midden, dressed as finely as Lady Honey and Canary were. Robes and a dress made of expensive materials — silk, velvet, satin — and jewelry that glimmered even in low light. They were sure to attract the sort of attention they didn’t need. But that was what they wanted.

“Hold on, darlin’, you got something on your lip.” The ring on her finger winked in the faint light. Her thumb dragged over his lip, making the other jewels on her fingers catch the rest of the light and her bracelets tinkle. The smile on her face was small, barely there.

But she knew what she was doing.

Lady Honey always knew what she was doing.

He forced his own smile. “Thank you.” She pet his hand, smiled a little wider. Then nudged him to keep walking.
Canary glanced back at the two of them. Her brow rose. Maybe because she knew the ploy. Anything to get people realizing that they had money. Anything to catch the attentions of others. A man traveling with two women was sure to do that. Especially when they were dressed in the bright yellows of their Colors.

The only reason they would have to come to the Midden would be to find fresh bodies. Be it dead or alive. The people here were easier to convince than those of Low City that they would better off without their children and with a fat purse of coin instead. And they wouldn’t question it. Not with the way that they were dressed. While nobility wasn’t trusted — money was. And they looked like they had more money than they could spend in one go.

Mino licked his lips as he glanced around, eyes sweeping the shadows for the shapes of whomever might be watching. The dirty, scraggly occupants of the Midden were like vultures watching dying prey. Waiting for the right moment to swoop in and steal the kill.

[Lyra]

The thing about the midden was that it wasn't what people expected. Most thought it was the smell that would get you first, the smell of sewage mixed with unwashed bodies of poor and downtrodden. While it was true that the stench was pungent, like a fog that draped across everything, after a little while you started to forget about it. Stay in the midden long enough and you start thinking the surface smelled weird. No, it wasn't the smell or even the sight of shit piled in the corners of makeshift structures. It was the people. Now the Low City of Kalzasi had its fair share of desperation, but the Midden? It was like the dredges of society all came to hide away from the sun, or more accurately from the eyes of justice in one form or another. Worse still was that you would think it was just thieves and murderers, but the sad fact of life was that the vast majority of the citizenship that existed here was just your average people. Men and women, families with nowhere else to go, and those driven out of supposedly decent society. It made Naila's stomach turn every time she came to this place.

Checking the paper in her pocket Naila's eyes followed the richly dressed women as they walked past her, paying her no mind like she was just a part of the wall. Of course, she was wearing a different face today, so she had little reason to think they would recognize her. Naila, after all, had a reputation in the Midden, the sort that got one the unwanted sort of attention.

Are these the ones you seek? The soft, melodic voice that spoke in her mind made Naila's eye twitch slightly. It was a reminder that, while she controlled their body today, she was not in fact alone. She never would be again.

"Yes" she replied, standing free of the wall and beginning to follow the group. She had been tracking them for days now, and Naila cursed at her lack of skill that made it take so long to learn about them in the first place.

House Lekivian. On the surface, they were your average Noble House whose claim to fame was their apparent magnanimous acts of charity. They helped feed and clothe orphans for god's sake, but that should have been her first clue. There was no such thing as charitable nobility.

Inside Lyra purred in contentment, and Naila could feel the tendrils of the witch's influence tracing across her soul, Very true... Nobility, those who cling to titles that raise them above others, all are corrupt, rotting from the inside.

Naila had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Lyra was... extreme in her views in certain matters, but in this, they agreed. As she stared at the backs of the women Naila's eyes, as well as her heart, hardened. Their sort was not to be trusted, and anything that they said was like an applied dipped in sweet poison. Unfortunately, she needed to take a bite, a very small bite, of that fruit tonight.

If you ask politely I shall bring them to their knees for you. Naila could see into their soul space as the words reached her, and there Lyra floated half-formed from smoke, smiling that salacious smile of hers. She seemed to get off on situations like this, but Naila wouldn't give her the pleasure.

Just do what we planned. I'll do the talking, you just watch for trouble.

An image of Lyra waving a hand was her only reply, and with that, the Mercenary focused on her objective. She followed them from a distance away, slipping between bodies and behind buildings and other covers to avoid direct detection. From time to time she would snatch a new face and apply it to herself, as well as clothing. She would follow them and observe as they reached their first destination. The House of colors was not foolish enough to let their Lady travel unprotected. The issue was Naila couldn't figure out what it was that made them so confident. Did one of the women have some magic or skill that could defend them? Were their hidden agents? For the briefest seconds, Naila considered the boy that was with them, but she quickly dismissed that thought. He was likely an unfortunate accomplice, but she doubted he posed a real threat. Still, she couldn't act just yet. Naila the Faceless did not earn her infamy by being careless after all.

[Mino]

“It seems we got an audience.”

Canary stooped low, gave one of her dogs a pat. One? Two? It was hard to tell them apart when she didn’t name them. They had less individuality than the children of the house did and he couldn’t help but pity their situation. He could have been just as unlucky, all things considered. But he couldn’t focus on three pudgy canines seeking a facade of affection from their master who could just barely hide the sneer on her face as she stood upright and wiped her hands on a handkerchief hidden in her sleeve.

“Do you know how many, sweet pussycat?” Lady Honey’s smile was empty. A hollow gesture he’d been able to see through for a long while, but he returned it because that was what he ought to do. This was a test, or at least this little bit was.

He blinked, considered the scents in the air for the moment. The Midden wasn’t a place that was kind on the nose, and he found him scrunching up his nose in disgust. There was so much — too much — to take in at once. Lady Honey giggled; another empty gesture, maybe. She flicked his nose, turned her attention forward once more. “You should know this.”

Maybe he should, but they also shouldn’t be here. He licked his lips, turned an annoyed gaze over to Canary only to find that the woman had stepped up to a door. The dogs waited patiently at the bottom of the steps. She seemed to hesitate before knocking. He could almost visibly see her putting on her face; donning a smile she didn’t mean, brows relaxed. Her hands went to clasp together behind her back. The only visible tell that she loathed the situation entirely.

He didn’t bother watching. Mino knew the song and dance well enough, even if he didn’t actively partake in it much these days. Still —

“I think they’re watching for some other reason.” If he couldn’t guess how many there were, at the very least he could try to discern a reason. “Not to take anything from us. They would have done that already. We are defenseless.”

“Very smart, kitty.”

Mino rolled his shoulders, tipped his head to the side. His ears twitched, wiggled a bit as he tried to take in the sound of the people around them. The movement of fabric, the murmur of voices. But, nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary. He glanced over his shoulder.

There was nothing thrilling about this. Nothing that gave him the same sense of danger he was used to up on the surface. There was danger — and there was this. It wasn’t the Midden he feared, but the woman at his arm. Or maybe it was a mix of the two. He didn’t have fond memories of the undercity, or of Lady Honey. Even if she smiled at him now.

He flinched as she reached into his pocket, no hesitation to pull the handkerchief she’d stashed there before. The same yellow color of her name, but he could only think of it as the unhealthy sallow of a dying body. Most yellows made him think that, but he was never one to voice that particular sentiment. He valued his life enough not to. He watched as the lady set the handkerchief down on a bench, lowered herself onto it. She pat the space beside her, though he knew it wasn’t intentioned for him. No, this was just another one of her calculated gestures. It accompanied a sweep of her gaze over the people around, a smile on her lips.

The three turned back to look in the crowd. Safe might not have been the word he used with House Lekivian, but it was better than being on the receiving end of the less than good intentions they had.

[Lyra]

Naila extended a hand as she passed two women slumped in an alley. Her aether extended like a net, flowing over one who mumbled slightly under her breath, before Naila pulled it back and draped it over her shoulders like a cloak. The mercenary's body changed then, a faded white dress with patchwork up the sleeves replacing the leggings she wore previously. Her features took on more of a half elven quality as her skin turned a sickly pallor. Clearing her throat Naila adjusted the borrowed voice, pitching it up slightly and adding a bit more hoarseness to the back as if she had been smoking fern blossom for half a decade. Rounding the corner her gaiter changed to add a slight shuffle, shoulders slumping as she swayed slightly, using the wall to help guide her around the shanty town. From time to time her eyes would flicker toward the Lekivians, never losing sight even as they sat upon the rickety bench near one of the makeshift huts.

I see no guard, nor have I sensed their attention shift to us. Lyra said, now watching with interest through Naila's eyes.

This was the worst possible situation. Naila had thought they would visit some poor downtrodden family, or at the very least snatch a child or two. Really she had expected some sign as to the noble's true intent in this place, something she could use to confirm for herself their true nature. Now though she was left wondering what the best approach was. There were no signs of any form of guard, which meant either they were better than Naila was at concealment, or the women themselves were dangerous enough to not require protection. Both possibilities were troublesome, but there was little she could do about it either way. She wasn't here to kill them, but to get information. So now the problem was the crowd.

You wish to be undisturbed? The witch asked softly in Naila's mind, Speak it, and I will make it so.

She wanted to refuse on principle, but after several seconds Naila sighed, Fine. Clear a space for us to talk, but don't do anything too rash. We still don't know if they have guards hidden in the crowd.

As you wish. Circle the area, and I will handle the rest.

Naila did as she was told, making a slow, shambling circuit of the circular area. She stayed close to the wall, one hand always touching the uncomfortably damp stones. As she traveled Lyra released a flow of her essence from the soles of their feet, black smoke wafting and spilling outward in a wave to mix with the slight fog that always coated the floor of the Midden. Soft whispering came from the smoke, and those that it touched found themselves distracted, focused anywhere but on the bench near the center of the space. Lyra kept the essence from overflowing into the center area, and the smoke was low to the ground so that it only lapped at the feet of those it touched, but as Naila finished her lap of the area all eyes were notably turned away from the three near the bench.

You call this subtle? Naila thought, wanting to hiss the words but she was already moving between ragged tents and stalls toward the bench.

It is effective. was the response that came, and Lyra smiled in amusement, Those who enter the area will be affected as well, and so will any who try to draw close. Worry not child. All is in hand.

Naila bit back a snide remark. The few people she passed seemed to glance at her before their eyes slid off to focus what they were doing. It was unlikely that there were any powerful pages down here, but it still made Naila uneasy. Still, she had asked for it she supposed. As she freed herself of the ramshackle structures and into open space Naila once more assumed her shuffling steps, swaying as she made her way directly for the 2 on the bench. She adopted a slack expression, letting her eyes unfocused as she ignored the dogs and shuffled right up to the side where the boy sat.

"Ye' look lost." Her voice was rough and scratchy, and she squinted hard at Mino like she was trying to focus. She wobbled and reached for the boy's shoulder for support, looking up as if just noticing the woman for the first time, "Wat'sa prim lady like ye' doin here?"

[Mino]

There was a system, like all things. A system to how they operated. From approach to retrieval. But it was a system that moved and changed with the season and this was not a season to play around. They were cautious at the start of Glade, when people began to shake themselves from the slumber of Frost, uncoiling themselves from their state of near freezing to save a few coins. Glade was also when people felt a nail’s width of relief before they had to start stocking up before the next fist of desperation hit them square in the gut.

Which meant that this visit to the underbelly of the city was one of many for the season. For various things, of course, but this was just — it was a precursor to all else that would come. Lady Honey licked her lips, observed the crowd around them. Mino watched her as she did so, more inclined to be wary of her movements. She was more active in her outings than the others, and though he had not do ne this for some time, there was no mistaking the predatory gleam to her eyes. Or, well, the version of it he was used to seeing on her face. She wore too good a mask of being kind and caring.

He supposed he learned best from her.

Mino’s ears twitched, brows raised as shuffling steps approached. There was something to the gait that he couldn’t quite place. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, but he supposed that had entirely to do with the fact that he could feel Lady Honey’s eyes on him. Her fingers wrapped around his own for a moment, squeezing as if to convey I knew it, but what she knew he didn’t know. His gaze flicked over to her before the woman was on him.

Lost? Maybe to someone he was, in a more figurative sense. Mino smiled, not quite cordial but nowhere near the usually flirtatious grin that graced his face. He might have even pulled out a more creative line than, “Lost in your eyes, certainly.”

Lady Honey laughed. His brow twitched first, then his ears as he turned his attention back to the lady. Canary remained poised to the side, her dogs yipping happily as they began to play. “We’re actually looking for someone.” She paused. “Someones. We’ve quite the soiree planned and were in need of more hands to help.”

“Can never be without extra hands and all that.” Mino’s voice flitted into the conversation, gaze dropping to the hand on his shoulder. Not so much out of distaste as it was curiosity. The full weight wasn’t there. Not really. After years of having people pet him, regardless of form, he tended to pick up when someone was really leaning on him. “Why don’t you have a seat? You look like you could use it.”

“Yes.” Lady Honey’s voice was as smooth and sweet as her name, head tipping to the side. “Please do join us. Maybe you could be of help.”

This was a trap. A carefully constructed, practiced trap that had worked many times over. A well-meaning, airheaded lady and her flirtatious companion, with a third wheel one could mistake for a chaperoning governess. A courtship in progress, easily shaken. It was usually the children that fell into it, pulled in by the puppies and the pretty lady who would offer them sweets if they took a seat beside her and asked where their parents were like she cared. Mino sometimes wondered if that was how he’d been taken, but then he would remember the fleeting memory of his chest heaving as his little legs tried to carry him far off. He licked his lips, blinked as he looked back to the woman, smile spreading.

[Lyra]

"Yer too kind, too kind..." Naila gave a slight slur to her words and blinked blearily between the lady and Mino. Squeezing the boy's shoulder Naila shifted, still half shuffling her feet as she stared down at the ground as if looking for her next footing. Her fingers would slip down his arm as she sat, lingering on fingertips before she released him with a clumsy wink and half-hearted chuckle.

Naila let her upper body sway slightly as she sat, straightening her back slightly and jerking back into a slouch just before she fell backward. It took several long seconds, but at last, Naila righted herself, curled almost in half with her weight resting on her elbow and head lolling listlessly on a boneless neck. With eyes half-lidded Naila looked up, her eyes slow to focus.

"Dun'no what I... what I can help with though." She stretched her vowels, slowing her speech as she kept a wavering gaze on Lady Honey, "I don' got much. Not anymore. Not good fer much at all."

You speak from experience? Lyra cooed in Naila's inner mind. The mercenary gave no sign, however, and instead looked at Mino curiously.

"What yeh want?"

[Mino]

He might be a pretty face to the woman, but he wasn’t dumb. Or maybe she hadn’t realized that she was dealing with a rathari. With her so close — in his space — Mino could catch the edge of nothing; that is, the missing notes of alcohol. Mino had been around any number of wines and beers to know when someone stank of it. The woman’s skin gave off nothing more than smoke, like fresh ashes blown into the wind. He tipped his head to the side, glanced around her to Lady Honey who merely held the smile on her face as if nothing was amiss.

This woman had not approached them out of drunken curiosity, but something else. Something he couldn’t be sure of. The rathari placed a hand on the back of his neck, smothering the raised hackles of caution.

“Everyone has their use.” The words are just as much for the woman as they must be for Mino. Lady Honey made a point of looking him in the eyes, gaze drifting down the woman. Until they don’t. “Perhaps you could work in the kitchens. Would taste-testing the wine and food be good for you?”

Canary hazarded a step forward, mouth open. Maybe in opposition. Maybe to solidify the act of Lady Honey being a bumbling, but kind young woman. A woman older than her looks and more cunning than the persona she exudes. Just the flicker of her gaze had the woman stepping back, head tipping down in a bow of apology. “Perhaps that would be the best place for her.”

“Mino, dear.” His brows rose at being addressed, lips curving up at the edges. “You’re our financier for this event. It would be best if you discussed employment with her while we handle our other matters down here.”

“I could.” His smile felt tight. He didn’t want to, but even if it hadn’t been worded like an order — that’s what it was. Mino licked his lips, turned his gaze on the woman.

The drunk was not a drunk, but she passed well enough for one, and that was enough to make Mino uncomfortable. He liked his fair share of risks and reckless behavior, but this — so close to where they were planning to do business — was not good. He tipped his head to the side as Lady Honey and Canary gestured for the dogs to run ahead, trailing behind them.

“Care to share what you were drinking? Seems to work like a charm.”

[Lyra]

"Wine...taster?" She seemed to perk up, fixing the lady with a gaze and a lopsided smile, "That I could do fer yah. Y-yeah I'd be a good taster." She continued to nod, mumbling under her breath and still smiling. This woman would have loved to be a wine taster Naila decided, so she let that eagerness show.

Should I stop them? Lyra whispered through their mind, causing Naila to glance up and follow the retreating form of the two women.

No. Let them through. We have our opening. She turned her focus on the boy then, who she found to be studying her.

Naila did not immediately answer, instead of humming to herself as she went back to watching the backs of the two women.

"Yer so lucky." Naila said suddenly, eyes focusing on Mino as she rested more against the arm of the bench, "Yer master's nice. Not like mine was..."

How curious... The amusement was plain in Lyra's tone, This one is suspicious of us. Was your disguise perhaps flawed?

Annoyance flashed in Naila's eyes before she blinked it away and looked down at Mino's hands, "What're you doing down here... here anyway?"

[Mino]

The woman leaned more toward him. He snorted. Master wasn’t wrong per say, but nice? Nice implied her being genuine and the woman was as genuine as the forged paintings he’d seen leave the house. His smile was tight, but a lot more of a smirk than a smile. Better than a sneer.

“Not my master.” No, no. Lady Honey would never want that to be what someone thought of them. Master and servant? Perhaps closer to master and willing slave, if the training they endured worked. Unwilling if it didn’t, but that only meant you were lucky enough to still be around and for that he could be glad. “My aunt. I make for a terrible pet.”

He tipped his head to the side, considered the woman once more. “What is it you think I’m doing down here?” Using the same hands that had taken her attention, he tipped her chin up, forcing her to look him in the eyes. The smirk on his lips was as genuine as the slit of his pupils. The low rumble of something not far from a purr started up.

She was here for a reason, one he didn’t know yet. Or maybe he did and it swam in a sea of possibilities he’d already thought about. There was the matter of how far she was willing to go for this reason, but he didn’t think he had much time to wait it out. Certainly not the patience. Not these days.

“I’ll give you a hint.” The rathari leaned a little closer, lips by her ears. “It’s not drinking, as I’m sure you aren’t here for, either.” He drew back enough for her to see his smile. He might have looked far too pleased with himself. “I mean, if you were here for drinking you would stink like the inside of a bottle. You should work on that. Maybe dowse yourself in a barrel of wine or something before you approach? Would be hard-pressed to find a reason to think you weren’t drunk then.”

[Lyra]

His hands were oddly warm to the touch, Naila thought as she let her chin be raised. She stared blearily into those eyes, examining them, and noticing the slits. The feeling of nails on her skin were a bit too sharp, and when he smiled Naila realized her mistake.

Lyra chuckled, spinning in slow circles in their mind as she held back the words she longed to say. It seemed so obvious now that the old elf wondered how the mercenary had overlooked it. Naila herself remained quiet for some time, simply staring up into those eyes as her gaze focused and sharpened.

"A rathari." Naila said as she reached one hand up to touch the fingers on her chin, "I see, how foolish of me. You would have a keen sense of smell wouldn't you?"

In a breath Naila shifted her aether and let it waft out, her scent instantly changing until she nearly reeked of cheep booze. Then she smiled, "Is that better?"

Naila kept her body language the same, the fingers of one hand loosely holding onto the Rathari's wrist which still held her chin. She let her mask slip then, her expression changing to one of dangerous sobriety as she studied Mino in earnest now. Without having to be asked Lyra reached out and played etheric fingers across the tones and melodies of the Rathari, dampening that confidence somewhat and singing in a note of unease, uncertainty, and just a minor note of foreboding which would grow in pitch with Naila's next words.

"It is in your best interest to play along with this performance." As she spoke she sat up a bit straighter, grabbing onto the front of his shirt as if to support herself as her body swayed unsteadily, "You are right though. I'm not here for drink. It is for something else entirely. Now answer me, why are you and your lady friends here in the midden? What are you looking for, dressed so primly?"