4 A fistful of goldies for an isturbagged kap

In Spirit Square, everyone was shouting, throwing stones, running away from the blows of the flies… I was singing.

Several people repeated, “Hooray, hooray, hooray!” A ball of “onion smoke”, as Manras called it, passed flying over my head. The smoke stung my eyes, filled them with tears, and half blinded me. I coughed. I got down from the cart where I had been perched, and seeing that staying there was getting more and more unbearable, I fled with others. As soon as I reached a more breathable spot, I joined the chorus, bellowing:

“Get out! Get out! Get out!”

It hadn’t even been a week since the decree was signed and barely two since the Solance robbery, and that morning they had already demolished the first house. If Frashluc’s purpose in robbing the Palace was really to deter the flies from entering his domains, he had failed completely. The flies were now everywhere.

“GET OUT!” I bellowed.

And I blinked. I could see nothing through the smoke. Suddenly, a Cat walked by me and shouted:

“We are surrounded! Run! We are surrounded!”

We ran. The flies were circling the streets, trying to catch us off guard. We came to the first crossroads just as they were coming… We rushed. Some of the older men, who were particularly angry, threw themselves at the guards. I, on the other hand, slipped away, threw a stone to do my part, and then I climbed narrow stairs while being pursued, turned into an alley, galloped like the wind, and, at last, I found myself back in the heart of the Labyrinth, safe and sound.

I took off the scarf in front of my face, coughed to clear my throat, held back from rubbing my eyes and sneezed with a:

“Atchiaw! Argh, good mother.”

One of the side effects of the onion smoke was that it filled your nose copiously. A real problem for me because it prevented me from singing normally, and the result was something as ridiculous as:

Well, something like that. Whenever I breathed the smoke, my greatest contribution to the defense of the neighborhood fell apart.

I walked from alley to alley, rubbing my nose regularly. It was already four o’clock in the afternoon, and I hadn’t eaten a thing with the more than five hundred siatos I had left! Ha, I was grumbling at the nail-pinchers but… wasn’t I a damned bourgeois myself! I had given ten siatos to each member of the band so that they could buy warm clothes and boots. So now, except for some isturbag who had blown them isturbaggedly, all the gwaks of Swift’s had boots.

I kicked a broken bottle and was about to go on my way when an old lady shaking a sheet on the first floor called to me:

“Gwak! Have you heard anything about what’s going on in the square?”

Like a gentleman, I took off my cap and said:

“They got us surrounded, Grandma! Surely they must have pulled some of them up. But the heat is still raging hot!”

The old woman nodded.

“I see. Thanks, kid, don’t get caught!”

“No worries!” I said cheerfully.

And I resumed walking. Since the problem of demolition had arisen, there was a renewed brotherhood among the Cats of the lower part: they fought for their homes, most of them peacefully, simply refusing to leave, others were inflamed with speeches… Those who suffered most were those in the gangs: they fled from shelter to shelter, they scattered, they lost lots of money, and some were enraged to the point of pulling out the dagger. It was a real mess. All round, it must be said, we gwaks, in all this, did not play a great part, but, whenever we came across a good speaker, well, we felt like giving a hand on the front. Some gwaks had preferred to migrate to the upper part of the Cats, but the majority of us stayed in the Labyrinth, because, although it was precisely the place where the flies were doing their raids, we felt less exposed. They didn’t raid us, they raided the free traders—some of whom we worked for, true, but for the flies, catching guys with weapons or whole pots of dandepassion was more rewarding than coming into the police station with a bunch of shabby gwaks of questionable guilt. The vagrants poorhouse wouldn’t have been big enough to take them all in.

I sneezed again, and at last, I could breathe more normally. I stopped in the middle of a steep alley, spun around, climbed up on a rock, leaned on the edge of what was the base of the window or door, jumped down, and landed in Swift’s shelter. Having money, it would have been ridiculous to stay in the street with the mess there was and the cold. So we rented from the Lodger, a lady who was a member of a free trader’s gang or whatever. It wasn’t especially spacious for the twenty plus gwaks that we were, but truthfully, it was quite nice.

I moved forward into the room, avoiding my lying companions. Some were sick, others were sleeping because they had been up all night. I smiled when I saw Little Wolf. The little one was asleep, wrapped tightly in the blanket Rolg had given me.

“How’s it going, namesake,” Swift called out from a corner, and he motioned me to come closer. He was eating fish.

I crouched down beside him, trying not to look at the food too much. Swift added as he chewed:

“Tell me, shyur. Do me a favor. Go get me ten goldies. I need them tonight.”

My face darkened abruptly.

“Ten?”

It was already the third time he asked me for money in two weeks. Two siatos here, five siatos there, and now ten. Swift nodded.

“Ten. I really need it, namesake. I can’t explain. But if you don’t come up with the ten by six… it’s gonna suck. You get it?”

I shook my head.

“No, I don’t get it.”

Swift shoved my head, clicking his tongue.

“Don’t be stingy, namesake. Come on, get moving.”

I looked at him, annoyed. It was the kap, all right, but…

“Ten is too much,” I said. “I’ll get you three. Okay?”

Swift left the last of the bones on the ground and stood up, stick in hand.

“No, it’s not okay,” he replied. “I say you go and get me ten. If I ask you, it’s because I need it. I really do. If you don’t give them to me, I’ll call you a nail-pincher.”

I straightened up, looked up, and we looked at each other… and I made a defiant face.

“I ain’t no nail-pincher.”

Swift smiled and patted me on the shoulder.

“Then prove it. Move it, comrade.”

Swift could be a good guy, friendly, even brotherly, but, when I said he was a vulture, that’s because he was. Feh. Nail-pincher, your mother, I thought. And I jumped out of the shelter. Back on the street, I took out my black twig, chewed on it, and a delicious taste filled my mouth as I headed up the hill towards the Hostel.

I massaged my right arm as I moved forward. Incredibly enough, I could still feel a slight tingling. It had taken me at least five days to reanimate my hand, and it had taken that many days for the morjas modulated by the Solance to return to more or less its normal state. As a matter of fact, it had only been two days since my energy overload stopped waking me up. And I was happier than a blessed soul! Because not only was I whole again, but I wasn’t hurting anywhere: the alchemist’s remedy had taken me through a thousand hells, I had experienced death, nothingness, and then when I came out of my unconsciousness, it had been a liberation. I wasn’t sure what exactly the sokwata had done to us, but that medicine had cured it. I don’t know if completely, but we no longer needed to soothe our pain, because there was no pain anymore!

I wanted to go and find the alchemist gnome to at least tell him: so nice, thanks, I’m cured. But he should already know that. And if, on my way to find the gnome wherever he was, I came across Kakzail… he would lock me up for sure. I wanted to apologize, naturally, but without him getting his hands on me.

I left the Labyrinth and climbed into the streets of the upper part of the Cats. On the way, I saw a patrol of flies as they entered a house to search it. My eyes met the distrustful gaze of one of them, who had stayed outside… Nibbling on my black twig, I wrinkled my nose and quickened my pace. If in the other quarters the flies were kings, here they were clearly on the defensive. No wonder, for some of the Cats’ gangs were as well armed as they were.

“Ugh,” I blurted out suddenly. For crying out loud, Swift always got what he wanted. But maybe, this time, he really needed the money. From his expression, it looked like those ten goldies would pass through his hands very quickly. A debt, perhaps. But, if he hadn’t known that Sharpy would be there to bail him out, he wouldn’t have dropped the money, right? Isturbag.

I arrived at Bone Street, put the twig away, and scratching my head furiously, entered the dead end of the Hostel. I had not been there for four days. Last time, I’d even shared a cup of tea with Rolg, and we’d chatted a bit about everything. Well, it was mostly me who had been chatting. Sometimes, I wondered how the blasthell I managed to talk so much without saying much at all. It wasn’t like Yerris either. He talked about real facts; I said whatever came into my head. It was crazy. I’d have an idea and then I’d come up with something like, “Did you know that every time you yawn, a lizard loses its tail?” and I’d follow it up with some narrative full of “yes, because yada yada yada,” and then I’d be breathless, breathe in and move on. I think the cure had something to do with it, because now I was happy, so happy that I was showing it to the four winds.

I wiped my nose again and knocked on the door of the Hostel. I waited, fidgeting in the cold, until I noticed something very strange. The door was very slightly open. With a grimace of surprise I pushed it open and entered. The table was there, but the chairs and armchair were gone. The fireplace was clean. The picture with the village had vanished, replaced by a horseshoe… What was going on? I asked myself, confused. I pushed open the front door and went to look in the back hallway. Both rooms were empty. I ran up to Korther’s office and stood there speechless. It was empty! It seemed as if I had come to the wrong house! I went down to the cellar, where I had been locked up after my failed theft of the Wind Tear. All I found was a dead rat, some broken things, and no trace of the bags of clothes. But the chair with the two broken legs was there. I couldn’t believe it, yet the evidence was there: the Black Daggers had abandoned the Hostel and taken everything.

Spirits! Where did they go?

I returned to the front door and was about to go out when suddenly a black hand pushed the door open. I jumped up in fright and hid behind the door as it opened. Then a figure appeared with a face as black as night, with pointed ears and wearing simple but good clothes. The semi-gnome closed the door, gave a muffled cry when he saw me, and breathed out:

“Grah…! Good mother, you scared the wits out of me, shyur!”

I smiled up to my ears.

“Ayo, Black Cat. I’m glad to see you. Since I never saw you, I thought a dragon had swallowed you…”

Yerris laughed and gave me a friendly push.

“Lately I’ve been very busy. Korther asked me to go check if we forgot anything important in his office. How’s it going for you?” he asked as he headed down the back hallway.

“Fine!” I replied cheerfully as I followed him. “So, just like that, you guys moved out. Nobody told me.”

“I didn’t know it either till tonight,” Yerris confessed to me. “Ab came and told me: you’re going to be a porter tonight, boy. A. Real. Hell. I’ve got aches and pains all over. Here and here is the worst,” he said, showing me his back and neck. “I’m ground up. I wasn’t born to load furniture that weighs a ton. But, as I am in purgatory, as the Devil says, I must bend my back. Guess what, Alvon came here last night, to talk with the Devil. He greeted me like that, even smiling and all, and I was dying with this mahogany buffet in my hands. He didn’t lift a finger to help me. I’m telling you, my mentor’s a slacker! He came for the Palace’s reward and he got the hell out of the Rock this morning. By the way, I haven’t congratulated you yet. Ab told me what you did. Tell me,” he added as we reached the office. “Do you see anything between the boards in the floor? Korther says something may have slipped.”

We searched while Yerris continued:

“I have something incredible to tell you. I don’t know if you remember that night Sla sent me to the devil for drinking the alchemist’s first cure.”

“She was pissed,” I nodded, smiling.

“Pissed like crazy,” Yerris laughed. “And with good reason. Well, the thing is… I don’t know how to tell you this, but it’s awesome. Now, Sla’s mom almost killed me, but… you’re not gonna believe this.”

Intrigued by his broad white smile, I encouraged him:

“Spit it out, comrade.”

Yerris stood up, waved his hand, and finally managed to say:

“I’m going to be a father.”

I was stunned. Seeing my reaction, Yerris burst out laughing.

“Isn’t it wonderful?”

Wonderful? Yes, it was, but frankly, I never thought that a comrade could ever be a father! Yerris’ pure joy erased my confusion, and I smiled, rejoicing in turn.

“Good mother, that’s great!” I said. That was the only thing that came to mind.

“It’s the best thing that could have happened,” Yerris admitted, excitedly. “Because Sla’s mother would never, ever let her marry me. And, just like that, she was forced to agree!”

He continued to talk, explaining his plans for the future, saying that with the Devil’s missions, they would earn lots of siatos, that the child would want for nothing… He sounded like a serious and responsible adult. Except that, in reality, he wasn’t even sixteen yet. I smiled as I listened to him. When we found nothing in the office, we went out of the hostel and walked through the streets, as in the old days: the semi-gnome talked and talked, and I listened. He didn’t turn round and walk backwards any more, or hardly at all, but apart from that he was the same as before. At one point, shortly after we had briefly talked about what was going on in the lower part of the Cats, I asked him:

“Did Sla take the cure?”

Yerris darkened and nodded.

“The alchemist made her a special one. It was hard, but, in the end, everything worked out fine.”

I arched my eyebrows.

“You spoke with the alchemist? So you know where he is?”

Yerris winced and glanced around before clearing his throat:

“Yes. But it’s supposed to be secret. If others find out, they might try to take it away. Apparently, some people have already tried.”

I swallowed. Gosh, someone had tried to kidnap the alchemist again? I shook my head.

“I’m not tattling. Where is he?”

Yerris hesitated.

“Why do you want to know? You’re cured now, right?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“I am. I don’t know, it was just to say ayo.”

Yerris rolled his eyes, and as he said nothing else, I did not insist and asked:

“Where is the Hostel now?”

Yerris smiled.

“For the moment, nowhere.” And, as I looked at him, bewildered, he added, “But, if you want, I’ll take you to the Devil. You wanted to see him to ask him for silver, weren’t you?”

I snorted and corrected:

“Gold.”

Yerris frowned.

“Heavy debts?”

I let out a sigh as we entered Tarmil’s neighborhood, and again corrected:

“Heavy mates.”

Yerris laughed.

“I see. You got into Swift’s gang, didn’t you? That guy—”

“No, no, I’m stopping you here!” I interrupted, holding up a hand. “I know very well what Swift is like and what my companions are like. But, it’s okay, Black Cat. It’s okay.”

Yerris looked at me with a mixture of amusement and concern. For a few moments, we were silent. We went up the stairs towards Atuerzo. Finally, the Black Cat said:

“You can’t be rich and share. Nail-pinchers know that.”

I let out an indignant gasp.

“I ain’t no nail-pincher. To hell with the nail-pinchers. They piss me off with their treasures. And Frashluc is the worst, because he says he’s not a nail-pincher, but he’s ragingly so. I’m not. It runs?”

My unyielding tone drew a surprised smile from Yerris. He nodded, amused:

“It runs, shyur. Do as you please. Throw the goldies at your gang. If it makes you happy.”

I sighed and did not reply. Silently, I promised myself that, once I had given the ten goldies to Swift, I would say to him: “It’s over, not one more, this money is Little Wolf’s, not mine”. It was not a lie. Those eight hundred and forty siatos had belonged to Coldpalm, and they were, in fact, for Little Wolf. Not for me, nor for Swift. For Little Wolf.

Korther’s house was ironically located near the Court of Justice. It had a small garden and large bay windows decorated with pretty white bars. I had just seen it when Yerris leaned close to my ear and murmured:

“Another nail-pincher, eh? But at least this one is on the backs of those upstairs and not downstairs,” he qualified.

I shrugged, and he led me along a little path behind, bordered by high hedges. We went into the garden without anyone seeing us, and the Black Cat whispered to me:

“Knock on the door over there. They’ll open it for you. Tell the devil I found nothing in the office. I’ve got to get out of here. I’m glad I talked to you, shyur,” he said frankly, giving me a pat on the shoulder. “Try to grow up a little, you look like a gnome.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Look who’s talking.”

The semi-gnome smiled broadly.

“Ayo.”

“Ayo, dad,” I teased. “Give my regards to your lady.”

My friend raised his eyebrows mockingly several times then disappeared behind the hedges. After making sure that the garden was well protected from the view of passers-by, I approached the door. The house was completely white and on one level.

I knocked on the door—which was white, of course—and peered curiously out of the adjoining window. Through the curtains, I could see a comfortable sitting room lit by the evening light. Six o’clock had just struck. And I had not yet eaten anything!

I took out my black twig and nibbled on it as I listened for footsteps. I heard none, but I heard the door open. Then a little girl appeared in a pretty white dress, and we stood there for a moment. We looked into each other’s eyes. The half elf had beautiful brown eyes. Finally, a casual smile stretched my lips, I took the stick out of my mouth and said:

“Ayo, Zenira. I’m looking for your father.”

The girl made an apologetic pout.

“He’s not here. I know you, right?”

“Sure,” I confirmed. “We met one day when you were reciting your geography.”

And then Zenira seemed to remember. She smiled.

“Of course. You work for my father. You said you didn’t know much about geography either.”

“Uh… yeah,” I coughed and inquired, “Did you get a good grade?”

Zenira nodded.

“The next best grade after my best friend’s.”

We stood there looking at each other. And then she asked curiously:

“What’s that?”

She pointed to my black twig. I gasped in disbelief.

“You don’t know what it is?”

Zenira shook her head, and for some reason, I lied:

“It’s licorice.”

“Licorice!” she cried. “I love licorice. But… this one, it doesn’t look like the usual twigs,” she observed. “Can I taste it?”

I grimaced and put the twig in my mouth, mumbling:

“Good mother, no. I have a sore throat. And you pass it on others if you pass the twigs.”

“Liar,” Zenira replied.

And as she looked less friendly, I hastened to confess:

“Well. Dead round. But the thing is, it’s not really licorice. I called it that to call it a way. But this is rodaria root.” From her expression, I understood that she didn’t know what rodaria root was. I explained, “Gwak stuff. Like smograss, but a little better. Hey, do you know when your dad is coming back?” I continued.

Zenira’s lips tightened in displeasure. Just then, there was the sound of a key in the lock, and the half elf turned abruptly.

“That’s my father!” she whispered.

And instead of letting me pass, she shut the door in my face. I was somewhat puzzled. I heard voices inside. Did Korther have guests? Damn. That didn’t help my case. Holding back the urge to knock again, I turned and… let out a groan of terror.

In front of me, blocking my way out through the small garden, stood the mist hellhound on all four legs. Dakis looked at me, cocked his head to one side… and lunged at me.