Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Three - An Old Name

“Awa... who?” Awen asked.

I scratched the edge of my nose. “Rainnewt was a guy who worked for the Exploration Guild over here. He ran away after setting up me and Amaryllis to be kidnapped by some very rude deer people.”

“I think they were aiming for me,” Amaryllis said. She bent down closer to Big Green. “Tell us about Rainnewt,” she demanded.

Big Green shook his head. “I can’t. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill all of you. I’ve never seen a sylph zat was zat scary.”

“A sylph?” I asked. Rainnewt was a handsome older man, not a sylph. “Can you describe him, please?”

Big Green shook his head until Awen waved her wand in his direction. “S-small! With wings and mean eyes. Brown hair?”

I nodded while eyeing the wand. “Why is he so nervous about that thing?” I asked.

“Awa, I think maybe he has hysteria and wants to keep it?” Awen wondered.

“I... guess. That doesn’t seem healthy. Why would you want to keep that?” I tried to wipe my frown and smiled at Big Green. “Are you sure you don’t want my friend to poke you with her wand?”

“Don’t touch me!” Big Green shouted.

I raised my hands before me, palms out in surrender. “Alright, alright.”

I was about to ask the girls if we should call the guard when Big Green leapt to his feet with surprising spryness, shoved me back a startled step, then started running towards the nearest alley.

Amaryllis brought up a crackling hand, and Awen pulled her crossbow up and around, the glassy tip of a bolt pointing at the grenoil’s back.

“No!” I said.

My friends looked my way and I winced.

“I mean. Don’t hit him from behind like that.”

“Broccoli, he ambushed us. Did you hear some of the things his goons were saying?” Amaryllis still lowered her hand as Big Green spun around the corner, the pitter-patter of his boots echoing out for a few moments. “Your bleeding heart will be a serious problem one of these days,” she said.

“Ah, I’m sorry?” I said. They had been pretty bad. But to hit someone from behind like that was... wrong. “We should still report everything to the guards.”

“The same guards who are in the pockets of the Morepoles?” She gestured at the street which was in a bit of a state. “The same guards who will probably arrest us for the mess we’ve made? Do you intend to spend the night behind bars?”

“Awa, maybe we should go?” Awen asked. She dropped to her knees and started tossing her things into her shoulder bag.

I nodded. “Yeah, okay. We can go. We still need to talk to these mob boss people, and then... that thing with Rainnewt, I’m not the only one that thinks that’s suspicious, right?”

“You’re not,” Amaryllis agreed. “The Rainnewt are an important Sylph family. I never made the connection with Mister Rainnewt because he’s, well, he was, a human.”

“Could he be a shapeshifter?” I asked.

“If he is, then why not change his name?” Amaryllis wondered. “It’s possible, but it sounds like a needless risk. Then again, his plan to kidnap me was hardly well-thought-out.”

“It nearly worked,” I pointed out.

She huffed. “I’d have gotten out.”

The moment Awen was ready to move, we started heading away from the crime scene. I felt a bit guilty, but Amaryllis was usually right about things like guards and such-like. “So, there’s a second person causing trouble called Rainnewt. It could be a total coincidence.”

“Yes, and I’m actually a shape-shifting mermaid,” Amaryllis said. I stared at her until she whapped me behind the head. “I’m not, you moron.”

“Right, right. You don’t smell fishy enough for that. So it’s probably not a coincidence. Still doesn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t he use a different identity, like in a spy movie?”

“A spy movie? One of those plays from your world?”

I nodded. “There are lots with characters who spy on each other, or go on cool missions with neat disguises. They usually change their name if they’re going to work so hard to look like someone else.”

“Awa, it could be a sign?” Awen asked. “Like, um, a label so that people can trace things back to him?”

“I guess,” I said. “Sounds like it would just make things harder for him.”

We slipped into an alley, then out the other end just as people were starting to poke their heads out of windows and step out of the shops lining the road. There had probably been dozens of witnesses.

That might bite us in the bum later, my friends and I were rather distinct.

We speculated a bit more on the subject of Rainnewt, but in reality we were going in circles. The moment we arrived at the far end of the Scumways, the discussion dropped though. There was a distinct shift in the style of the homes here. For one, there were a far fewer wooden buildings with moldy walls, and a lot more stone homes. Small, but in that humble sort of way that well-cared for homes were.

And then the main street opened up to a large courtyard with a nice fountain and a house that was just shy of being a mansion behind it.

It wasn’t anywhere near as big as Awen’s home, but it was lavishly decorated, with statues along the front, and a well-manicured garden around an oval entranceway.

It would have been a lot nicer if there weren’t about thirty people gathering around the front of the building.

For the most part, the eclectic mix of grenoil, humans, harpy and a few sylphs were all well-dressed. Pressed suits, nice hats and sleek black canes. But the way they held themselves screamed ‘Bond-villain goon’ more than ‘stately gentleman.’

In the middle of this group was an elderly grenoil man sitting on a wheelchair. He was wearing a very comfortable looking red sweater vest and had a blanket over his legs and a sunhat plopped atop his head.

“So, that’s where he ran off to,” Amaryllis said.

I followed her gaze to a Big Green who was kneeling next to the old grenoil and talking really fast.

The old grenoil reached a hand out to one of his goons who passed him a nice cane. Then he smacked Big Green on the head with a dull ‘whap.’

“Shush now, you oaf. Can’t you see zat zose girls you attacked are here now,” the older grenoil gentleman said. His voice was gravelling and rough, like the rumble of a distant millstone.

I eyed my friends from the corner of my eyes.

Those were a lot of possibly bad guys, and these didn’t look like street thugs. Sure, they were only armed with canes, but I didn’t doubt that fighting them would be a whole lot different to fighting those thugs earlier.

“Oh, don’t be afraid, bun, I haven’t bitten anyone in some time. Come in. I would offer you guest rights, but doing so to someone you don’t know isn’t terribly wise.”

I stepped up and into the courtyard, shoes sinking just a little into the soft grass until I was standing just a few meters away from the old grenoil who smiled up at me. So I smiled back. “Hi! My name is Broccoli Bunch, these are my best friends, Awen Bristlecone and Amaryllis Albatross.”

The grenoil nodded. “I’m don Grenouille,” he said. “Now zat we’ve gotten ze pleasantries out of the way, would you mind explaining to me why you have beaten and injured so many of ze people in my employ?”

I blinked. “First, the pleasantries haven’t even begun. We didn’t even get to the tea yet. And second, they attacked us first.”

The grenoil croaked a laugh. “I see, I see. Well zen, perhaps some of my boys here will be so kind as to fetch us some chairs and perhaps a tea set?”

A few of the goons bowed and ran off.

“While they fetch that... you claim zat you were assaulted first?” he asked.

I nodded.

“It’s, it’s not true, don Grenouille,” Big Green said. “Zey came onto our turf and ze--”

The don whapped the big grenoil on the head with his cane again. “Shush, you. Ze young lady was talking.”

I held back a very inappropriate giggle. “Ah, yeah. We were on our way here, actually, when Big Green blocked our path, and then he and a bunch of others tried to capture us. They said some very mean things too.”

“Hrm,” the old grenoil said. “Let’s set zat aside for ze moment. Ze issue is complicated somewhat by you being on our territory without permission. Zough, as ze saying goes, might makes right. You are obviously in ze right in zis situation as you won ze ensuing fight.”

That... was so wrong. At the same time, if the old grenoil wanted to let bygones stay that way, I was okay with it, for now.

“Now, you mentioned zat you were on your way here? I doubt it was to enjoy ze comforts of my gardens.”

I looked around at all the pretty flowers and the well-trimmed hedges. “It’s not for that, no, but you do have a very nice garden,” I said. “I have the gardening skill, though it’s not at a very high level. Yours must be really good if you can keep so many flowers in a place like this.”

Don Grenouille grinned. “Why zank you.”

“Ah, but you’re right. We’re actually here because of a bit of a problem we had. See, one of our friends owned a nice little bookshop in Port Royal, and she lost it because she couldn’t meet your security payments.”

Don Grenouille tapped his cane on the ground. “Are you speaking of miss Booksie?”

“That’s her,” I said.

“We offered her ozer ways to pay off ze debt,” he said.

“A debt that should never have existed and which was little more than extortion,” Amaryllis said.

The air grew thicker, but we were saved by some goon arriving to deposit a table and some chairs next to us. One of them placed a nice tea set on the table before stepping back.

I moved to the set and started preparing a few cups. There was a kettle that was already filled with boiling water, and a few little jars of honey and sugar and a cup of cream. “How do you like your tea, Don Grenouille?” I asked.

“Straight,” he said.

I mixed in the leaves and made sure everything was just right before pouring him a cup. Then I prepared cups for my friends. Awen liked hers with lots of honey, and Amaryllis liked a splash of cream in hers.

I liked mine with honey, sugar, and cream.

Don Grenouille waited until we were all sat before taking a sip from his cup.

His eyes widened.

“I have the tea making skill,” I said before taking a sip of my own. The Don was watching me strangely as I drank. “Ah, this is pretty nice.” I waited a moment before continuing. “So yeah, if you really were extorting our friend, that needs to stop. It’s not nice at all to do that to someone. You really hurt Booksie when you made her lose her shop.”

“I’m afraid you don’t seem to understand how zese zings work,” Don Grenouile said. “In zis city, if you expect to have ze protection of ze Morepoles, zen you need to pay.”

“But protection from what?” I asked. “No offense Don Grenouille--and I do have the utmost respect for you and your cool hat--but rackets like that just aren’t very neighbourly.”

“Don’t bother, Broccoli, these sorts don’t understand decency. Just look at how they play dress up and try to hide behind an image of nobility. It’s really quite sad,” Amaryllis said.

I wanted to press my hands over my face. Amaryllis really was keen on insulting everyone she met.

Don Grenouille’s face was going a nasty shade of red, and all the goons around us seemed ready to fight.

And then Cholondee landed on the fountain.

***