The laughing God's Gambit

CHAPTER 8: The dress up.

Turns out, The Gilded Lock was just a plain, gray block in a part of town that reeked of incense and desperation. The place was so boring, it was basically invisible. Plus, anyone messing with it had a habit of disappearing into Spireland’s endless holes.

Ferris and Lyria watched from a storm drain, having followed the sewer to a pipe at the edge of town. Just like they figured, they looked like drowned rats, glowing a bit from sewer fungus. Lyria’s armor squeaked, and Ferris couldn’t stop his teeth from chattering.

“Okay, plan,” Lyria whispered, eyeing the reinforced door. A guard in a thick jacket leaned against it, picking his teeth. Looked bored stiff.

“Right. Plan.” Ferris’s brain, usually a mess of dumb ideas, had frozen over. “I’ll… distract the guard.”

“How?”

“I’ll chat him up.”

“You’ll chat him up.”

“I’m a people person! Underneath all this panic, I’m super friendly.” He tried to fix his wet hair, but it stuck up like spikes. “You, meanwhile, use your… knight skills… to go around back.”

“There’s no back. It’s a cube.”

“There’s always a back. For deliveries or feeling down. Look for a pipe, a vent, something!”

She stared at him, radiating deep skepticism. “You’re the worst planner ever.”

“And yet, here we are. My ideas are… surprisingly effective sometimes.” He stood up straight. “Ready? Go.”

He didn’t wait. He walked out of the alley, trying to look like ‘normal water-damaged guy’ but probably looked more like ‘crazy plague victim.’

The guard reached for his club. “Hold it. Area’s closed. Move on.”

“Closed? Oh, thank goodness,” Ferris mumbled, grabbing his forehead. He leaned on the wall, sliding down a bit. “I need… to make a deposit. It’s an emergency.”

“The Lock is by appointment only. And you stink like a swamp.”

“It’s a new cologne. ‘Eau de Desperation.’ Very popular.” Ferris clutched his stomach. “Please, I have a family thing. A priceless badger statue. My grandma’s. The city watch is after me! They think it’s alive! A mimic! They’ll smash it!”

The guard stared, blank-faced. “A mimic badger.”

“It’s super realistic! And it bites!” Ferris stepped closer, letting the sewer smell waft over him. “Just let me in. Five minutes. I’ll put the vicious thing in box 42. My lucky number.”

“Box 42 is taken.”

“43, then!”

“You don’t have a box.”

“I’ll rent one! I got money!” Ferris patted his pockets, making wet noises. Nothing. “I… seem to have lost my cash. But I can pay you in… thanks! And a great story.”

Behind the guard, Lyria appeared, quiet as can be despite her wet armor. She found a high vent. She was already yanking at it.

The guard lost it. “Get lost, you wet weirdo, before I oof.”

A hand covered his mouth. An arm like steel wrapped around his neck. He struggled, then went limp.

Lyria lowered him, propping him against the wall. She took his club and stuck it in his belt. “He’ll wake up with a headache and no memory.pressure point.”

Ferris gaped. “You just… knocked him out like a knight.”

“I stopped a threat. I am efficient.” She pointed to the door. “Okay, your turn. The crystal thing.”

Ferris pulled the Tear out. He held it to the lock. The gem glowed. The runes went haywire. The bolt clicked open.

“Show-off,” Lyria muttered, pushing the door.

Inside, The Gilded Lock was incredibly dull. A wood-paneled lobby had a desk. Behind it, a wall of bronze doors with numbers on them. It was cold, quiet, and smelled like lemon polish and old secrets.

“Box 117,” Ferris whispered. “Finn’s. Second shelf.”

They found stairs to a walkway. Box 117 was at chest height. It had no keyhole, just a dark disc.

“Another lock,” Lyria said.

Ferris pressed the Tear to the disc. Again, the magic stuttered. The bronze door opened, revealing a drawer-like space.

Inside was boring stuff. Ledgers, papers, a pouch of gems, a dried flower. And a piece of fancy paper.

Ferris grabbed it. He unfolded it, Lyria reading over his shoulder.

It wasn’t a map. It was a receipt.

Item: One (1) Extra thing (M. the Misplaced)

Storage Paid Through: End of Moon thing

Location: Vault of Echoes, Sub-level 7B, quiet Study.

Remarks: Client wants quiet, tea, and news from home.

They stared.

“He… he stored her,” Ferris said, in disbelief. “In the Vault of Echoes. Where we were going to rob.”

“The place now full of guards after our mess-up,” Lyria said. “The most guarded place in Spirelands.”

“Finn’s got a terrible sense of humor.” Ferris stuffed the receipt and gems in his pocket. “At least we know where she is. And we got money for travel.” He shook the pouch, it jingled.

“Clothes,” Lyria said. “We can’t travel like this.”

They looked in the back of the drawer and found clothes Finn kept for emergencies: pants, a shirt, a cloak. All dark colors. And a fancy blue jacket with silver thread.

“One change of clothes,” Ferris said. “For two people.”

They looked at each other. Then at the clothes. The pants and shirt were for a guy. The jacket was fancy.

“I’ll take the normal stuff,” Lyria said. “You get the… peacock thing.”

“Me? In velvet? I’ll look like a broke singer!”

“You are a broke singer… who steals.” She started taking off her wet armor. “Turn around.”

“What? Why?”

“Some privacy. Turn around.”

He turned. He could hear her taking off wet layers, the cold on her skin. He tried to focus on box 86.

“Your turn,” she said.

He turned. She was in Finn’s spare clothes. The pants were too long. The shirt was baggy. Her hair was braided tight. She looked like a dangerous farmhand.

She held out the jacket, looking at the ceiling.

Feeling silly, he took off his wet shirt. He heard her gasp not interested, but surprised.

He looked down. He had faint scars across his ribs and back. Dragon scars. A souvenir from stealing dragon eggs.

He put on the jacket, the velvet felt weird. “It’s nothing.”

“I didn’t ask,” she said quietly. She’d seen the memory. Some things didn’t need a bond.

He buttoned the jacket. It fit surprisingly well. He threw the cloak over it. “How do I look?”

“Like you’re trying too hard.”

“So, normal.”

They packed the stuff and were about to close the drawer when Ferris kicked a book under the walkway.

He picked it up. It was Finn’s accounting book. He flipped it open, seeing an entry from two days ago.

Payment: Sky thing

For: Info on F. & L.

Amount: big.

Note: Paid in advance.

The words blurred.

Finn hadn’t just been pressured. He’d sold them out. They’d walked into a trap he set.

Lyria understood, and grabbed his arm.

From below, a voice echoed up .

“Should’ve taken the sewer, Fox.”

Finn stood below with armed guys from the gang. He held a crossbow, pointed at the walkway.

“Now,” Finn said. “Don’t make a mess. The boss is paying extra for you alive. And I love a bonus.”