Chapter 31
Remus
I've spent the last few days couped in my house pouring over the blueprints Olli copied and have come to the conclusion this heist might be a suicide mission.
Considering the location of Severo's office on the second floor, the fact the Murrieta men rarely leave their home after dark, and the three war dogs they claim are pets, we might be able to break inside their house, but we probably won't be able to get out.
To add fuel to an already raging fire, if we are to pull off this mission, we'd have to pull the job tomorrow night.
After a couple shots of whiskey, I snap out of my melancholy ways and sit back down, determined to come up with a plan.
What other choice do I have? We need the information locked in Severo's office and with the Soberano's jubilee coming up in a few short weeks, this is our only shot at figuring out their secrets.
I recline in my high back chair, the coolness of the leather pressing against my bare back grounding me as I flick the end of my half-smoked cig into the ashtray and formulate a plan.
I close my eyes and think through Severo's routine schedule.
Once a month, Severo stays late at the Palace of Justice to catch up on paperwork and meet with his staff to prepare for the next month's trial docket.
The meeting will take place tomorrow. I also have it on good authority Rogelio will be out with a few of his rich friends drinking in the Night District to celebrate the news of his engagement the same evening.
And when the masters are out, the servants will play, whether they turn in early for the evening or slip out for a well needed night off, the only true problem will be those three vicious dogs.
Fortunately, I know someone who might be able to help with them.
I quickly extinguish my cig and snatch a clean shirt and jacket from my closet. Ordo Vulpe has a meeting tonight, so I'll have to make this quick, but if I can make it to the Market District before she closes, I might be in luck. She's been my savior before, perhaps she's my salvation now.
The Market District is loud and vibrant and buzzing with life.
Although I prefer walking, I decide to take my carriage.
I have to maintain my appearance as Don Rafael Canoso, after all.
I have my driver drop me off a few blocks from Pillar's shop.
If I am being followed, I don't want to lead anyone directly to her.
I take my time meandering through the different store fronts varying from food vendors to trinket shops to apparel until I've wasted the last forty-five minutes and dropped hundreds of coins on goods I'm not in need of.
With a sharp left on Calle Madreselva, I saunter three shops down the street before her purple sign protrudes from the stucco facade.
In bold gold lettering, The Lavender Apothecary, beckons me to step inside to find all my herbal and medicinal needs.
I tuck the handles of my three bags into my left hand and open the shop door with my right.
A bell jingles overhead as I walk into the narrow, cozy store.
Glass vials varying in color line walnut shelves, the light pouring in through the picturesque windows giving each bottle a mystical glow.
Potted seedlings ready for their forever homes are positioned on two hip level tables, their names and purposes handwritten on small white cards and staked into the dirt to give patrons the opportunity to discover if this plant is right for them.
The dark shelves stand out against the green walls and the dangling pendant lighting fill the store with the aura of being hugged by a trusted loved one.
"Have you always been that ugly? Or has it been so long since you last visited me, I don't remember what you look like?"
I smirk. The smoky voice forces me to turn around and stare at the petite shopkeeper behind the check-out counter.
Her elbows are rooted to the table while she wipes her spectacles with a white hand towel before slipping them up the bridge of her pointy nose.
Her red hair is braided like a crown around her head but there are a few rebellious white strands she shoos from her forehead.
"You and I both know I'm far from ugly, Pillar.
But if it makes you feel any better, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to visit.
Duty calls. I'm sure you understand that more than anyone.
" I square my shoulders to hers across the counter, though I tower over her by a foot.
She squints up at me before a small grin stretches across her freckled face.
"It's good to see you." She reaches for my hand and squeezes when I rest my palm in hers. "What do you need from me?"
Pillar Ollivander has always been shrewd.
Not one for nostalgic chit-chat, she's about doing business first and participating in pleasure if she deems it necessary.
I constantly forget how vastly similar Pillar and her son, Olli, are until I hear her speak.
They possess the same clipped, albeit polite, tone and hardly ever give away their true thoughts by expression alone.
But without her and Dona Otero, my people would have ceased to exist. All the survivors turned to them when our homes were ransacked, and our people dragged to slaughter.
Pillar is an Orlencian by birth, but she married a Venturan named Lucius Ovidius and had Olli a year after their wedding.
Olli was seven when they watched in horror as Lucius – who served as my father's right hand – lost his head.
Pillar made it her life's mission not only to keep her son safe in a city hellbent on hunting him, but she decided to hide the survivors and use her skills in herbology and alchemy to concoct the magical ink that makes our wings retractable and therefore undetectable.
I still remember drinking a creamy elixir she'd given me when I was ten.
As soon as the contents emptied into the pit of my stomach, my wings disappeared.
It was temporary, only so she could tattoo the wings across my back.
Once she finished, I was able to show or hide them at my discretion, which has been a blessing and a curse.
Not all Venturan survivors were able to get these tattoos.
The elixir she created requires a rare weed one can only find in the mountains, and when the Red and Black Guard beefed up security around the city and a mandatory curfew was implemented, it made it virtually impossible for her to gather more.
The select few of us who have these tattoos have dedicated our lives to avenge our dead and free those who survive from the underground city they were forced to flee to.
I've had to hide who I truly am for fifteen years, but in doing so, I'm not only alive, but I'm able to work for the good of my people so they too can one day see the light again.
I sometimes forget Pillar remade herself from ashes.
She resumed her maiden name and opened a shop in the Market District to keep her eyes and ears open.
Selflessly, her earnings go to help the Venturans, leaving only what's necessary to pay her immediate bills in her own coffers.
She has never shied from telling Olli who he is, who his father was, and together, they've dedicated their lives to our cause.
When I lost my parents, I had Dona Otero, Lupe, and Pillar as my mother and father figures. Those three women molded me into the man I've become and I'm not simply a survivor – I'm a weapon and I intend to be used as such.
In saying that, I know if anyone can aid me in outwitting Severo's hounds, it will be Pillar.
"Suppose I said I had three dogs I needed put to sleep for an hour or two," I whisper, leaning closer even though her shop is void of customers. "Would you happen to have anything handy?"
"I might." She nods her head, running her tan finger under her chin, thinking over her inventory. "When would you need it by?"
I grimace. "Tonight would be ideal, but no later than tomorrow morning."
She flashes me a disdainful look before exhaling a deep sigh. Sliding around the counter, she walks to the opposite side of the store and plucks a vial before making her way back to the check-out table. "Do I dare ask what you need Tranquillus for?"
"I already told you," I tilt my head and smile. "For three dogs."
She rolls her eyes and digs her hand into the jar, pulling out three sticks that to the naked eye would appear like miniature churros. Knowing Pillar's specialty isn't in baked goods I watch her carefully.
"The dogs will need to ingest these," she doesn't sound convinced I'm referring to actual canines. "One per animal."
I reach for them, but she snatches them back. "This will only buy you an hour, so whatever you're doing, make sure you're quick about it. Got it?"
I bob my head. "Understood. Thank you, Pillar."
She quickly slips the three dog treats into a brown parchment and ties it off with a white ribbon. "Is my son involved?" she asks, though her attention is fixed on the package.
"You know the rules, Pillar." I glance at the door when the bell chimes and three ladies wander inside. "Only Vulpes who agree to participate are involved."
I grab the wrapped parcel she extends, but she refuses to release it. "Keep an eye on him. And tell him I miss him."
"I promised you years ago I'd look out for him," I say in hushed tones. "I'll protect him."
"Off with you," she waves me out, letting go of the Tranquillus. "Next time I see you, you better stay for lunch."
I smile, lifting her hand and planting a kiss on her knuckles.
"You have my word." I turn on my heel and walk out the door, leaving Pillar to entertain her new customers.
With the solution to my dog problem in hand, I breathe a sigh of relief knowing when I meet with the others tonight, I will come bearing a solid plan, even though we don't have a lot of time to prepare.