2. Lovette
Chapter 2
Lovette
I groaned as I sank into the hot bath, muscles I rarely used begging for relief.
Imogen had definitely taken good advantage of having me to fetch things for her, but I’d actually spent most of my time bringing order to her supplies by rearranging the ingots and clusters of metals by size and type before cleaning and reorganizing all her shelves. While one at a time, or even by the armful, I hadn’t thought I was lifting much, my lower back and legs begged to differ.
While it had been a more strenuous day than I was used to, being busy had been a good distraction. I’d also gotten a good look at the damage Gaius had done to his sword. That man was up to something, and I was more curious than ever what it might be after having seen the state of it. There were several chips in the edge of his blade and deep scratches that only her skilled hands and specialty tools could repair without removing too much of the steel.
The perfumed salts I’d put in the bath helped me relax as the soreness slowly ebbed away. I sat until the water was tepid before pulling myself out and dressing in my softest tunic and trousers. I deserved a little pampering. Regrettably, I still had to go fetch something for my supper from the meetinghouse. My apartment’s food stash had been picked through a little too well over several lazy evenings, and I was ravenous.
I went down the stairs with a stilted gait, thighs protesting the whole way, one hand gripping the railing and my wings tingling their readiness to come out should I need them to balance me.
The meetinghouse was full of bodies and noise as I filled a plate and slid into an available seat near one of the massive fireplaces. Gaius was several tables over, but still directly in my eyeline. Everyone gave him a wide berth as he tossed back deep gulps of ale. He was missing a plate, however; it seemed he was drinking his dinner.
My eyes continued to stray from my plate of roasted meat and vegetables to the sharply handsome profile of the infuriating man. My fingers tensed around the handle of my fork every time his heavy cup hit the wooden tabletop.
Just as I finished up, his uneven stride thumped along the floorboards as he left the meetinghouse. I dumped my plate in the dirty bin and followed him out, surprised at how fast he was moving. I’d watched him drink no fewer than three tankards of ale with no food, and there was no telling how long he’d been there when I arrived. Annoyance crept up the back of my neck like flames as I realized he was heading straight for the forge.
Imogen had left the blade on the table where she’d found it, her lack of judgment where he was involved stunning to the point of infuriating.
“You have no idea what he’s been through,” she’d scolded me as she ground down the metal, giving the project all of her intense focus.
“I’ve patched him up well enough,” I grumbled back, but I knew she was right.
I was no fighter. I’d never been in charge of making sure everyone under my command not only did their job, but optimally made it back alive, like he had. Even if that meant pieces of him were never quite the same.
That still didn’t fully excuse his surly behavior, and his secrecy only made me more curious as to what he was up to. I curled myself into the side of a tree as he stomped through the yard at the forge and snatched up his blade. He gave it a quick but intense once-over, then sheathed it in the scabbard on his belt and took flight.
“Where on earth are you going?” I muttered to myself.
After a second of debate, I decided there was only one way to find out, and deployed my own wings, taking to the sky right behind him.
Gaius flew straight into Revalia, his directionality unerring despite how much he’d had to drink. He had yet to notice me behind him, which spoke to how pointed his focus was. When he landed on a narrow side street in the Barrens, I hung back. I watched from a rooftop as he confidently strode into a building with a yellow awning over the door after giving some kind of secret knock.
It was late, and the city was hushed. The noise was limited to the low rumble of adults playing a round of cards or having a quiet meal behind closed doors, most children having already been put to bed. I crept along the edge of the roof, trying to hear or see anything useful. Just about the time I’d decided I needed to get closer, there was a loud scuffle.
“Get out of here! I’ll have you all reported for insubordination! Having secondary employment is heavily frowned upon, which you’d know if you bothered to read your contract.”
“Sir?” One younger gargoyle I recognized from the conclave seemed genuinely perplexed as he and four others were chased out the door.
“Never return here, Varos. That’s an order.” Gaius leaned in, the point of his sword aimed at the youngling’s throat.
They all gave brief nods, though they looked to one another for moral support, as though questioning his authority. They weren’t wrong for that, he’d likely been replaced by another general, but they still respected his seniority.
“Sir, our job?—”
“Is with the stone kin, not a human lender. Go on. I’ll collect any wages due to you, but as of now, you’re all finished with this post.”
“But—” Another stepped forward, clearly confused and not wanting to lose his second income.
“I said, get out of here now !” Gaius shouted, blade raised menacingly. Window glass rattled, and I found myself breathless for a moment, fear skittering icily down my spine. I’d never heard anyone speak with power like that before, not even my father.
After barely another moment’s deliberation, they all fled, dust flying into my face as their wings chased up gusts of wind.
Seconds later, a middle-aged man staggered through the doorway as well, wrapped in a heavy night robe.
“What’s the meaning of this, Gaius?”
Heart in my throat, I leaned forward on the edge of the roof, wishing I’d chosen to perch on the one above them instead of the one across the narrow street.
“Your business is closing,” Gaius said darkly.
“I’ve been done for the day for several hours already. Are you drunk?”
“You misunderstand. I mean your doors are closing permanently.”
The man laughed. “Is that so? Last I checked my shop was approved by the councils, not to mention well supported by my community. Under whose authority are you making such an asser—” There was a wet gurgle as the man clutched at his throat. I hadn’t even seen Gaius move but promptly realized it was his blade that had silenced the man as he pulled it out of his neck.
I stopped breathing. Eyes wide, I struggled to understand what I’d just seen.
“As I’ve been removed from my council posts I’m here under no authority at all besides my own. You are a blight, Caster. You claim to be helping these people, but you are only bringing more despair. I will certainly be damned for my part in it over the years, but it goes no further.”
The man choked on his own blood, eyes wide as he fell to his knees in the street. Gaius made no motion to help or expedite the man’s death; he only watched. My instinctual urge to help the injured betrayed me in that moment, and a gasp escaped my throat. Gaius’s head turned, his heated glare finding my face as my hand flew up to cover my traitorous mouth.
He bared his teeth and growled, “ You .”
I held my hands up, glancing around before extending my wings again and gliding down to the ground. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you can’t just leave him here like this, Gaius.” I checked the man for a pulse, his blood unnaturally cool and sticky on my fingers.
“Of course not,” he snipped, sheathing his sword before grabbing up the man as though he weighed nothing, taking him back inside the building. “What do you take me for?”
“Do you really want me to answer that right now?” I asked as I hurried behind him, which only earned me a grunt from deep in his throat. I didn’t see anyone watching from their windows, but I knew better than to believe we’d gone totally unseen by the humans who lived on this street. “What are you doing?” I hissed as he walked through the main lobby area and into what looked like an office. He positioned the man in the chair behind the heavy desk, resting his forehead on the wood with a harsh thunk . “Gaius!”
“You shouldn’t be here,” he grumbled, throwing open the drawers. “Why are you here?” he accused.
“I…” I swallowed, nervous and sweating from the rush of adrenaline. “I don’t know.” It was the truth. I had no idea why my curiosity had driven me to follow him. I’d never done anything like this before.
He shook his head, scowl on his face showing me just how disgusted he was with my presence. “Be useful then, at least, and find a bag. There should be some kind of market satchel near the door.”
“Okay.” I turned back to the main room, relieved to have a specific purpose, finding what he’d asked for hanging from a many-pronged coatrack. When I returned, he grabbed it from my outstretched hand without a word and began shoving ledgers and small leather pouches inside.
“More,” he demanded.
“There was only one.”
Finally, he looked up at me. I wasn’t sure whether I preferred his stony avoidance or his fiery glare.
“You have pockets in those trousers?”
“Yes.”
“Fill them.” He gestured to the bottom desk drawer and moved out of my way, systematically making his way around the room, pulling things out of hidden doors and small hidey-holes. There were so many I could hardly keep track, and he seemed to know them all.
I grimaced as I carefully slid behind the chair full of dead man, frowning as I looked inside the drawer. I hadn’t ever seen so much jewelry in a single place. There was no organization at all, which gave me an odd sadness. Precious heirloom rings were tangled in delicate necklace chains which were knotted on the ends of bracelets. Taking a deep breath, silently asking for forgiveness from whatever deity might watch over such things, I plunged my hands in.
“Why exactly am I stuffing my pockets with jewelry?” I asked, gut sour. I silently pondered why I’d followed Gaius in the first place, why I’d needed to eat dinner at all when I could have been comfortable in my bed, warm and safe instead of here.
“Because it doesn’t belong to him.”
That seemed reasonable enough. I took every piece in the drawer, jingling when I moved by the time I was finished.
He slung the bag’s handle over his head and one shoulder, the fabric stretching at the seams. “Time to go.” He reached out an arm to usher me forward, his fingertips brushing the small of my back. I didn’t have time to process the gesture before he started knocking one oil lamp after another to the floor, setting the whole place alight.