Disclaimer: The following fiction is completely unedited and may very well be utter trash. I take no responsibility if you read it and feel like you have wasted precious minutes of your life.
Disclaimer 2: I’m playing major catch-up, so this is excessively long. Just so you know.
We were freelancers, in the furthest sense you could possibly take the term. Someone would need something to be done, and we would find them and offer to do it. Sometimes they were residents of the city itself. Surprisingly often, though, we got job offers from outsiders. Someone from a “real” city.
Cityname, the City of the Unwanted. That was where we, Kia and I, lived and worked. Cityname is where all the hybrids of the ‘ari come to live. Some of the ‘ari let their halfbreed freaks live with them in so-called equality. Some, like my mother’s people, the mountain-top Khitari, would often go so far as killing them. I was lucky that my mother’s clan was one of the more lenient groups. My father was, judging from my skin, a Purnari – a woodlander. When I was born with my tell-tale nut-brown skin and greenish hair, she was simply told to go get rid of me however she saw fit and to come back when she was done. Instead of leaving me to die of exposure or wildlife in the frigid mountains, she carried me all the way to Cityname and left me with a willing and kind older woman to raise me in safety. I didn’t remember any of this, of course, but Granma told me all about it many times.
Kia was similar in that she also had Khitari blood. Her mother was a Shussari, though, and the seaside people are very welcoming (compared to other ‘ari). From the bits and pieces of her childhood that I had managed to pry out of her over the past few years, they had recognized her as one of their own. This was despite her only Shussari trait being her hair color – a pleasant seafoam green. It fell in straight Khitari style, though, not the wild curls that ran dominant in the Shussari. I think the Khitari look fits her personality, if you ask me. Cold, unforgiving, slave-driver that she is.
The slave-driver was standing at the door as I left, clearly thinking that the mere handful of minutes that I had spent making myself look marginally respectable had been a handful of minutes too many. She looked me over briefly as I posed for her inspection (she never seemed to appreciate these things), then turned away and started down the road without a word.
I assumed I passed. “So, who’s the client? Is it old Baris again? He always has things to do.”
“No.”
We continued in silence. “So… where are we meeting the client?”
“The Blue Herring. He should be there waiting for us.”
“Aha, you said he! You’re slipping, Kia, giving me details like that.”
She didn’t even give me a glare. Fortunately the Blue Herring (one of the more upscale taverns in town) wasn’t very far, and we were there within a few minutes.
We were shown to a booth in the back within moments of arriving, and I realized why Kia had been so reluctant to tell me what the job was or who.
Our client was Khitari.
———
He was sitting in the far corner of the booth, looking uncomfortably warm in his furs and just plain uncomfortable. It must be all the accursed halfbreeds he was being forced to endure.
I was tempted to turn around and leave right then and there – why would I want to work for Khitari? – but I had faith in Kia. She wasn’t stupid, and if she thought this job was worth taking then I was going to go along with it. Besides, if we didn’t get a job of some kind soon… well, my landlord told me if I was late with the rent one more time I was out of there. She’d been saying that for months, of course, but you never know when the breaking point for those kind of threats will finally show up.
So instead of walking out on them, I played the gentleman and let Kia sit down first. That way she had to sit closer to him. I could always say later that I was looking out for his welfare, putting him closer to the more Khitari of the pair of us.
He waited until we were both seated, giving me an unreadable look before speaking. “You are the applicants for the job?”
“Yes, we are.” Kia was calm as usual. “The payment for the job is alotofmoney, correct?”
I tried not to look too surprised. She hadn’t told me just how much this job was worth, and while I’d gotten the impression that it was worth a lot, that was more than had occurred to me as being possible.
“Correct. I am afraid that I will require you to agree to do the job before I can give you a complete disclosure of the details. However, generals are well within my authority.”
“The advertisement said you needed a courier for an important document.”
“Yes. I do not have the document on my person at this time. It will be delivered to you tomorrow at a prearranged time and location. Assuming that you are hired for the job.”
“I believe we can do the job. Will it be particularly dangerous?”
“It does not have to be, no.”
I listened closely while Kia and the Khitari had their back-and-forth. A simple courier job for that much money? Not a chance. There was a lot more to this job than he was telling us, and possibly more than what he would tell us even after we signed the employment contract.
However, we were used to this sort of thing. A lot of people didn’t want to give all the information about a job, thinking that it’d scare off potential applicants, or they were just finicky and felt the details were too personal to share with complete strangers. I had the better ear for picking up on what was left unsaid, so in those cases Kia would do most of the talking while I stayed silent and looked capable. And listened.
This Khitari was really, really good at hiding things.
“Here is the contract.” The Khitari finally pulled a rolled document out of the pocket of his coat and placed it on the table in front of Kia. “If you wish to take the job, return here at sunset this evening with the contract signed. I will be here and will give you an extra copy for yourselves to keep and further instructions for the job.”
Kia wordlessly picked up the contract and handed it to me. I took that as my cue and stood up, letting Kia out of the booth.
“Thank you for considering us for the job.” She inclined her head at the Khitari politely.
He nodded back. “I hope to see you again this evening.”
That was a clear enough dismissal for me. Still holding the unsigned contract, I strode back outside into the late morning sunshine without a backwards glance.
“Well, Darros, what do you think?”
I looked at Kia in mock surprise as we started walking slowly down the street. “What’s this? You want my opinion on something?”
“Oh stop it, this is too serious for your joking. How much do we know? I couldn’t even tell what he was being honest about, let along what he was hiding.” Her irritated glance caught a random passerby, who looked startled and shivered before hurrying past us. Did I mention that Kia’s glare was literally icy? I didn’t think so.
I gave a frustrated sign of my own and ran my fingers through my hair. “Not very much. He was good. All I can say for sure is that it is going to be dangerous, that it invovles the Khitari and at least one other group, and that it will most likely require a lot of stealth and secrecy.”
Kia’s frown deepened at that last comment. “Then why didn’t he advertise for a Khuulari? They’re practically born for stealth.”
I chuckled. “Don’t let Tieka hear you say that. She’ll go out of her way to prove you wrong.”
Kia blinked, then flashed me a quick grin. “If nothing else, that would give the city something new to talk about for a few days.”
“Make that weeks and I might agree with you.”
Tieka was, as you probably guessed, a Khuulari. The Khuulari aren’t like any of the other ‘ari in that they weren’t a real group so much as a mutation, and could born to anyone. As a result, they’re generally more accepted by purebreed ‘ari than we halfbreeds are. Not always to their benefit, though. The Khuulari are always dark. Black or near-black hair, black eyes, and dark skin, although usually with a hint of the colors from their parentage. They almost always can do magic, a special variety suited strongly to shadows, stealth and illusions.
Then there was Tieka. She was born to Pfuari parents in the deserts to the east and left for Cityname, as most Khuulari born there do, as her coloring doesn’t suit her well for the hot desert sun. She resented the Khuulari associations to darkness and stealth, however, and went out of her way to be as noticeable and flamboyant as possible. It was a rare day you couldn’t find her wearing half the colors of the rainbow and an assortment of sparkly bangles and accessories. She also dyed her hair in colors that would make a Tikkari jealous.
Kia veered off across the road, waving after me as she wove through the traffic. A quick glance showed that she was heading directly for the Rusty Mug – the favourite hangout for freelancers, and our affectionate nickname for the bar officially named the Pewter Mug. Originally, the wooden sign had a shiny metal beer mug embedded into the center to highlight the name. Over time, it stopped being kept shiny and polished and nature did what nature tends to do, leaving the emblem a solid mass of rust.
It was fairly quiet inside due to the early hour, but not as quiet as you might expect a bar to be before noon. The truth is, we (that is, Cityname freelancers) had taken the Rusty Mug as our unofficial headquarters. You could find some of us there at pretty much any hour the place was open, and we were its most loyal customers. Higher-end restaurants and taverns like the Blue Herring were great for meeting clients and setting up jobs with our employers, but it was the Rusty Mug where we swapped tales and leads, and where we worked out the details of new jobs between ourselves.
As a side-effect of our constant residence and impressive loyalty, Rosun – the owner – had started a real kitchen and provided various non-alcoholic drinks and a decent variety of good and inexpensive food. Assuming you knew what to order, that is.
Kia went straight for our usual table, arriving there first and waving over the server as she sat down.
“Good morning! What’ll you have today?” Shassa, the regular day server, was a halfbreed of obvious Pfoari descent and curly hair. She’d taken over from the last day server, Nomi, when she’d left for a job across town, and was a sweet and cheerful young girl.
“I think I’ll have my usual. Darros?”
“Let’s change it up a little, today. Toasted cheese and some sort of fruit juice – your choice, Shassa.” I slid into my chair and placed the contract on the table as Shassa trotted off to the kitchen to get our order started. “You want to read it first, or should I?”
Kia answered by unrolling the paper and starting to look over it. I passed the time while waiting by looking around at who else was here this morning. There were the something brothers having an animated discussion. Probably arguing over a job again. It’s amazing they managed to decide on work often enough to pay the bills. Several other people I recognized were sitting around, either discussing what I assumed to be work or waiting for their partner or partners to show up and, I assume, discuss work.
But him, I didn’t know. My eyes stopped on the unrecognized newcomer, giving him a quick examination. He was short, curly hair in a bright shade of blue, dusty greenish-brown skin. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I would wager he was a halfbreed Rhoari. Probably either Tikkari or Shuusari as the other half – assuming he only had two bloodlines. He abruptly looked up and stared directly at me. Bright green eyes. Definitely Tikkari. I raised an eyebrow and gave him a friendly smile, to which I was rewarded by a nervous and suspicious frown as he looked away and hunched down a bit. Yes, he was very much a newcomer.
I made a mental note to keep an eye on him and maybe show him around the town at some point as I turned back to Kia. “How does it look?”
She threw the contract down on the table in disgust. “Nothing special there, either. It’s a very tough contract, but it’s very open about it without giving a single hint as to why it needs to be so restrictive.”
“Really? Give me a quick summary.” I picked up the paper and started skimming over it quickly.
“We’d be sworn to complete secrecy about the details of the job for, well pretty much forever. Not just to the end of the job. Also, the only provisions for not completing the job appear to be…” Kia paused as Shassa returned with our food.
Kia had gotten her usual salad with a glass of milk. The juice Shassa picked out for me was a dark pinkish red, smelled good, and tasted deliciously sweet.
“Do you like it? It’s somefruit juice. We just got some yesterday, and I know you love sweet things.”
“It’s delicious! I hope you’re planning on keeping it in stock.”
Shassa smiled happily. “I’ll let Rosun know!” She practically skipped back to the kitchen.
Kia shook her head as she chewed on a forkful of salad. “That girl enjoys that part of her job entirely too much. You had her pick for you for her sake, didn’t you?”
“What are you saying? I have absolute faith in her judgement of my taste in food and drinks, and I enjoy trying new things.” I looked at her innocently and took a large bite out of my breakfast, breadcrumbs sprinkling down onto my plate. Mouth still full, I turned the conversation back to more important matters. “What was that about not completing the job?”
Kia took a sip of her milk and stabbed her salad with unnecessary vigor. “To put it as simply as possible, either we complete the job or we die trying.”
“Ohh, that’s rough.”
“Very.” She chewed on her greens, staring at the table-top. “It also mentioned a required time by which we had to complete the job, although it didn’t mention what the time was. I imagine that will be part of our instructions tomorrow.”
“Really? I’m not sure I like that. Should we insist on having it added to the contract?” I continued skimming over the document and chewing my breakfast.
“We can try. I’m not sure he’d be willing to discuss any changes of any kind, really.”
“As you said, we can try. Worst that’ll happen is we lose the job, right? And in that case we might not even want it.”
She gave me one of her you-must-be-joking looks. “If we take this job, we’ll be set financially for months. At least.”
“If we die attempting this job, we’d be set financially for the rest of our lives. Which would be gone.” I jabbed the now rolled-up contract in her direction. “If he’s willing to pay such a large amount to get this job done, it’s most likely because the job is so difficult. And if it’s really a job legitimately worth that much money I don’t think I want to take it. However financially set we would be.”
She took the contract from my hand – probably so I would stop waving it in her face – and placed it back on the table. “We need to decide, either way. Do we want to take the job, or not?”
“I really want more information before deciding,” I grumbled, leaning back in my chair and gazing absently off into the room.
To my surprise, the nervous newcomer was watching us. To my suspicion, he immediately looked away when he caught my eye.
“I’ll be right back, Kia. Don’t let anyone steal my juice. Or my seat.” Before she could get out a single question, I slid back the chair and stood up, heading over to the newcomer’s table. “Mind if I join you?” I gave him a friendly smile and seated myself without waiting for a response. “Name’s Darros. I haven’t seen you around here before. You new in town?”
His eyes darted nervously back and forth for a moment, almost like he was looking for an escape. I had him, though. If he tried to run now, he’d just be obvious and look like trouble. The whole bar would be on him in seconds of my calling after him. And, fortunately for both of us, he knew it.
“Chero. My name is Chero.”
“Pleased to meet you, Chero.” I leaned across the table and held out my hand.
After a few moments, he hesitantly took it in his and shook it gently. “Darros, you said?”
“That’s right. Me and my partner Kia over there work together around town, freelancing.” I gestured back towards our table without glancing backwards. From the sudden nervous shifting of my new friend, I would guess Kia gave him one of her best glares. “How about you?”
“I, ah, well as you said, I am new in town. I don’t really have much of anything right now.”
“Is that so? Well, if you’re looking for long-term work, this probably isn’t the place to be. If you just want some quick cash, though, I’m sure some of my buddies around here would be willing to give you a hand. I’d offer, but we’ve got a job of our own we’re looking into.”
“Yes, I, ah, happened to over hear some of the conversation you were having.” He at least had the grace to look sheepish, although I had assumed as much already. “It doesn’t sound like a very promising job to me.”
“Oh, it’s nothing too bad.” I waved a hand dismissively. “Besides, the two of us, we can do pretty much anything. In fact, I’d say we almost specialize in the more dangerous jobs. In fact, I was almost shot in the head with an arrow for our last job.”
Chero looked properly impressed.
Just then, a discreet tap on my shoulder drew my attention to an apologetic Shassa. “Sorry, but Kia said you should, er… come back and finish your discussion.”
A quick glance back towards my table led to my being graced with the chill-inducing stare of my working partner. Unless I wanted to risk her anger – deserved or otherwise – I had better get back there until we at least figured out whether we were going to take the job or not.
“I’ve got to get back to work, Chero, but good luck to you.” I stood up and slid the chair back in. “Oh, and just so you know, it’s rude to stare at people. And not everyone takes it as well as I do.” I gave him another grin as he looked doubly nervous and strode back to Kia.
“And what was that about?”
“Newcomer was eavesdropping. Didn’t want him picking up any bad habits before he ran into someone less amicable.” I stuffed the rest of my rapidly chilling cheese on toast into my mouth and chewed thoroughly. “I think we should take the job.”
Kia looked genuinely surprised. “You do?”
“Yes, I do. Sure, it’ll be dangerous and we will probably be risking death at every turn, but it’s us. I bet we can take on this vitally important and dangerous delivery mission with no trouble at all.”
“No trouble is an exaggeration.”
“Okay, fine. Maybe not no trouble. I still think we should take it.”
“I do too, but… let’s think on it and meet again later this afternoon.” She gathered up the contract and slipped it into her jacket. “I’ll meet you here and, if we both still think we should do it, we’ll sign it then.”
“Sounds good to me.” I downed the last of my drink and stood up. “See you in a few hours, then.”
Word count: 3468
