Chapter One The Pigeon Drop #2
The smart ones, bless them. There was no such spider. Their silk had no special “dream-bound” qualities, but the smart ones were so eager to do half the work of swindling themselves. Saeldian glanced at him with appreciative eyes. “You’re very well read—”
“There you are!” a voice exclaimed.
The woman was headed straight for Saeldian, her face glowing with relief, and—
Jubilee tensed, but the woman sailed right past her before Jubilee could involve herself.
The woman—just well dressed enough and just pretty enough to be unremarkable—stopped at Saeldian’s table and sighed in relief.
“Thank the gods! You’re still here. The day is saved!
I’ve taken care of everything, but we have to go right now. ”
What in the Hells was this game? “I’m sorry, who—”
She grabbed Saeldian’s arm and pulled them up. “Saer Longsmile sent me.”
Saer Longsmile? This was nonsense. Saeldian should pull away. They should say Who are you? in a loud, alarmed voice. But the choking gambit they’d used was already memorable enough. This stranger barging in was making people stare again.
A matronly woman emerged from the kitchen, drying her hands on a clean cloth. Saeldian’s whole scam was ruined. They couldn’t protest. Too many questions. Who was this woman? What kind of trouble was Saeldian in?
The amulet resting on Saeldian’s breastbone thumped twice, like a heartbeat.
It hadn’t done that in years.
What was happening? Saeldian was supposed to trust this stranger?
Behind them, Venthar cleared his throat. “If Saer Brightleaf doesn’t want to go, then they shall not. Saer, do you know this woman?”
Jubilee was on her feet now, stepping out of the narrow, cluttered space between chairs.
Venthar’s gallant defense had hooked him more thoroughly than Saeldian’s patter ever could, but this grift was over. Saeldian didn’t know this plain-dressed woman, but the amulet had never been wrong, ever.
So they nodded at the human woman and smiled. “I was hoping for Saer Longsmile’s company. You were sent to fetch me?”
“With his most ardent apology. There’s no time to lose! The tide never waits.”
Jubilee’s mouth popped open, but she followed as Saeldian allowed themself to be hustled along by the strange woman like she was an old friend.
Saeldian looked back at Venthar. “It was nice meeting you.”
The strange woman called over her shoulder, “Apologies, Saer Gentleman Lord whoever you are!” and shoved open the door to Aunt Lothiel’s Teas and Temptations. Saeldian squinted in the high, bright sunshine and left a sputtering Venthar behind.
Once they spilled into the street, Jubilee caught up and put herself between Saeldian and the stranger who had hustled them into leaving.
Jubilee stood a head taller than Saeldian, with spiraling horns that made sure she had to duck under most doors, and she made herself loom over the stranger a little.
Her smile was wide but willing to turn unfriendly in an instant. “Hi! Who are you, and what’s going on?”
The stranger said, “Mariel? If you would, please.”
Another woman, this one taller than all of them—and by the look of her wide shoulders, stronger too—stood up from a bench outside the teahouse and took Jubilee’s arm.
“The street’s not the right place for this conversation,” Mariel said. Her voice sounded like she had to scrape it free of her throat.
Jubilee glanced at Saeldian, her wide eyes a question: What was happening?
Saeldian didn’t have answers, but they knew how to keep moving. Don’t be scared. And if you are scared, hide it. “All this fuss for a meeting? It couldn’t wait?”
“A sense of humor,” the first woman said. “I like the funny ones.”
“Sometimes they get too funny,” Mariel said.
“Not to say I’m laughing,” Jubilee said, “but where are you taking us? What kind of conversation?”
“I’ve ordered a meal at the Golden Rose,” the first woman said, “so at the very least, dinner will be excellent.”
“Oh, an inn. Traditional,” Jubilee said, forcing more confidence into her voice.
The Golden Rose was new enough that neither of them had been there. Saeldian had heard that it was expensive, serving the best of the best. But that didn’t answer Jubilee’s question.
“Who are you?” Saeldian finally asked. “Who is Saer Longsmile? What is this?”
“In order, then.” The woman quickened her pace. “I’m Briona. She’s Mariel. Saer Longsmile isn’t real. This is a rescue from the mistake that would have had you fleeing Waterdeep for cheaper pastures, but that’s a fortunate accident. It’s actually a job offer.”
“What kind of a job?” Jubilee asked, as Saeldian asked, “What mistake?”
“One that will pay better than whatever hundred-dragon scheme you were about to pull. That man your partner was reeling in is the eldest brother of Lord Talmost’s bride, and he’s one mistake away from defaulting on all the debts he’d leveraged trying to go into business.”
Saeldian sighed. “The right lamb, but too late.”
Jubilee knocked her knuckles into Saeldian’s arm. “Sheld. They’re Zhents.”
“What?” Saeldian looked at Briona again. Her plain clothes didn’t have any embellishments, but the ring on her finger bore a winged serpent chasing a coin. That was the sign of the Zhentarim crime syndicate, and Saeldian hadn’t noticed. Briona shrugged and smiled like she didn’t mind.
“It’s just dinner in a really nice inn,” Briona said. “Hear us out.”
“And what if we don’t?” Jubilee asked. Her voice went a little high with fear.
“There’s no need to dwell on the unpleasant,” Mariel answered. “Is there?”
Why had the amulet thumped for these two? Saeldian was supposed to trust operatives from the most notorious black-market traders in Faer?n? But it had never been wrong. Saeldian couldn’t distrust it now.
“No need,” Saeldian said. “We’ll hear you out.”
Jubilee gave them a long stare but let Briona lead the march.
The Golden Rose had been made by revitalizing an old villa, and the sight of it made Saeldian glance at Jubilee, who was sizing up every detail already.
They passed through the gates, where a weary adventurer could hand over their mount to rest in a long, clean stable if they turned left, or enter a bathhouse that lent a scent of clean mineral water to the air if they took a path to the right.
An outdoor courtyard held tables so patrons could enjoy a gorgeous, fairy-wild garden that already blossomed with spring flowers.
Tall shade trees sporting new spring green as proudly as a young man’s first whiskers would make the stone drive cool when summer paid Waterdeep a well-celebrated visit.
It was everything Righthoof Manor hadn’t yet achieved.
“Nice place,” Saeldian said. “The Yawning Portal’s complete opposite.”
“They’ve done an amazing job with this. Look.” Jubilee nodded at the bathhouse. “See those chimneys?”
Saeldian looked. “Those short metal pipes?”
“Correct. They have those heated rooms the northerners like. With the hot rock stove they sit around and half cook themselves in before jumping into a snowdrift, you know?”
“It’s invigorating.”
“There are nicer ways to get a little excitement,” Jubilee said with a scoff. “But look. They paid to replace the whole roof for maximum rain collection. All the roof troughs empty into those pipes. I bet there’s an underground cistern.”
Jubilee had been helping with the repair of her family home since she was old enough to fetch tools.
She would tell Saeldian about every single renovation choice she saw if they didn’t keep moving.
Briona and Mariel had slowed to a sightseeing pace as Jubilee pointed out the details of the Golden Rose’s improvements.
“Underground?”
“Keeps it cool, simpler to keep clean. And from there you can use it for whatever you design.”
Knowing buildings from the outside in was core knowledge for a burglar, so Saeldian listened every time Jubilee told them something about this building or another. “That’s clever.”
Jubilee grunted. “Whoever spent their big score here had a lot of gold.”
Gold that Jubilee’s father hadn’t had when he accepted Righthoof Manor as a gift—ha!
A pig in a poke, more like. But seeing the clean stone and the sturdy, expertly replaced windows of the Golden Rose showed what Bastion dreamed of Righthoof Manor becoming.
Anyone else would have tried to get rid of it.
But Bastion Righthoof didn’t abandon anything for being too difficult, and Jubilee was cut from the same loyal cloth.
The nine-foot-high doors opened as soon as Briona climbed the long, gentle ramp to the entrance.
The main tavern floor, divided by a flowered carpet that climbed a wide set of stairs to private rooms, had a jovial side for post-adventure carousing and a quiet side for pre-adventure job negotiations.
Casually dressed patrons talked and laughed while a beautiful halfling woman played a complicated, fast-fingering melody on a double-stringed lute. The quiet side was empty.
Jubilee whispered, “All this wood’s restored. They must have sanded it for a year! Look at the windows—”
Saeldian grinned, but they kept an eye on their hosts.
No one even glanced at their group, despite their bootheels thumping on the floor as they entered.
But Saeldian knew the sun-kissed faces and confident manner of professional adventurers.
No armor, no weapons—slouching adventurers just enjoying music?
They felt safe here. Saeldian could trust that, even if their nerves had tuned themselves too sharp.
“Here we are.” Briona poured wine from a heavy-bottomed carafe into silver goblets. “Have a seat, and I’ll ring for our first course.”