“Your accent is terrible.”

The woman that was supposed to be watching him looked down at Summers, and if it weren’t for the elves’ normally stoic nature, he was sure she’d be sneering.

“I’m aware.” Summers tried to avoid making eye contact as the woman just kept staring. He was not, at all, happy with this situation.

Synel had managed to “sell” him to a porter business owned by the same noble that had proclaimed to see the “end” as Asmund had. He’d of course, had to hide his normal, human ears, but that wasn’t difficult. This was not going to be a “long term” strategy. Slaves were going missing around the city every day, it wouldn’t be strange if he did as well.

The hope was that he might be able to learn more, under cover, than they could wandering the streets. According to Synel, the noble had been secluded to this home since they’d last saw him. And so, he was put to work lifting heavy things while doing his best not to kill someone.

Other slaves milled around nearby, moving things from one end of the warehouse to the platforms outside. Much of the city, as it turned out, was underground. A network of tunnels that made deliveries by animal impossible, so they employed people like him to haul goods from one end of the city to another.

As he entered the storage area proper, he slowed, watching the office that supposedly belonged to the noble himself. The manager, as he was beginning to think of her, must have noticed.

“Move faster you oaf,” the woman chided. As he effortlessly picked up the box at his feet, she paused. The fact that he could even feel the weight meant that it was probably ridiculously heavy, a theory that was reinforced when he saw an expression of surprise on the young woman’s face. She schooled it immediately.

“Yellow platform, right?” Summers asked.

“. . .Yes?”

Summers left the woman behind, setting the box down near a group of others. One of the other slaves eyed him, watching both him and the box warily.

“We’ll see how long you can keep that up.” the man said.

Summers looked him over, he was gaunt, and clearly not in the best condition. His hands were wrapped with bandages, bruises covering his arm. They didn’t look like signs of abuse, exactly, more like something was wrong. He wouldn’t be surprised if the man had scurvy or the like.

Summers cleared his throat, trying to stay in character. “How long before they feed us?”

The man looked at him askance, probably his accent. “No time soon, the woman will let you know.”

“The woman? Not the uh, noble?” Summers glanced again at the office. “Figured they’d have the boss handling the food,” Summers explained.

“He doesn’t come anymore. My wife works in the home, says the bastards gone mad. Won’t leave his study, drinks himself to sleep. Whispers in the night about all kinds of things.” He spit on the ground. “Good riddance.”

When Summers had seen the noble, it was clear the man was not doing well. If what this guy was saying was true, that meant this entire plan might have been for nothing.

“Right,” Summers paused. “Thanks.”

“Just keep your head down, lot of folks going missing lately and I don’t think they’re leaving.”

“What do you mean?”

“Way I figure it, the price of feeding us just wasn’t worth the cost. People go missing, no one complains. Long as you keep to your business, you’ll be fine.”

With that the man turned to his work. Summers took that as his cue to leave and headed back inside. If what the man was saying was true, then the company had no reason to “buy” him. No, that theory of his didn’t add up.

As he arrived, he was surprised to find the manager talking with someone new, someone familiar.

It was the black-eyed lieutenant. She was gesturing to a few boxes nearby. “This isn’t a request.”

“You aren’t understanding what I’m telling you. We can’t afford to give any more,” The manager said. “My people need to eat.”

“I don’t care what you can afford,” The lieutenant responded. “You will give me the food I asked for, or I will take it.”

The manager’s eyes widened at the statement, but still, she didn’t back down. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I truly can’t-”

The lieutenant back handed the woman, sending her sprawling to the ground. A foot on the back of her head made sure she stayed there.

“I don’t think you understood. Have your men deliver my goods to the temple by the end of today, or your head will be on my wall by morning.”

The manager didn’t respond. She didn’t even move as the lieutenant turned and headed outside. When she finally did recover, she looked in Summers’ direction. “You, make yourself useful!”

Summers made sure to keep his face neutral as she instructed him, fully intending to do exactly as she said. After all, if the lieutenant was involved here, his little undercover mission might not be a total loss. Nobody would think twice if the ‘help’ got a little lost. And who knew what he might find.

Getting lost turned out to be a lot easier than Summers had expected. The destination was a bit odd, though, he’d assumed the food was for the black-eyed guards. But, as it turned out, six crates worth of food were going to a large stone building. The cities’ church of sorts, apparently acting as a middleman for the lieutenant. He suspected what the woman was really doing to the church’s “volunteers” might not go over well with the city at large, so she was keeping the public at arm’s length.

Summers had hauled what he could through the entrance, then proceeded to wander, one crate over his shoulder. Nobody questioned a guy carrying something heavy.

In that time, he’d learned the woman he’d been thinking of as a lieutenant was not popular. Her was name was Mia, and most of the people in the church hated her with a passion. They weren’t shy about saying so either, even to a ‘lowly’ slave like Summers.

One woman, another slave by Summers’ estimate, was explaining as much as she hung up laundry near Summers’ drop point.

“She talks to our seer like he’s a child. I don’t know why he’d allow it. My sister was saying she’s sleeping with him, but I happen to know the seer prefers the company of men.”

“Mhmm,” Summers answered. Honestly, he hadn’t done more than just say hello to the woman, but she was a fount of information, nonetheless.

As he listened, he couldn’t help but notice a guard posted on a door just down the hall. Trying not to seem suspicious, he gestured to the door.

“Is that the storeroom? Figured they’d have a guard on it.”

The woman opened her mouth as if to answer, then paused, suddenly looking a little apprehensive.

“No.”

Something about her reaction gave him pause. He remembered Asmund had said he saw something, if that was something physical, then where better to keep it under lock and key than his own church.

“It’s not, you know. . .” Summers gestured again to the door. “What the seer’s talking about, is it?”

“I shouldn’t say.” The woman looked apprehensive.

Summers didn’t feel the need to point out he’d learned more about the town’s gossip as well as Asmund’s life, both personal and sexual, in five minutes than Synel had managed in a week. So instead, he pressed on.

“Have you seen it?”

“No. But. . .” she hesitated. “I don’t think it’s a thing. The girls that have been in there won’t tell me, but I know they’ve been sent to bring food in.”

“I see,” was all Summers said in response.

He’d need to have a chat with the others.

Summers sat with his back against an alley wall, waiting. This was the plan. Since he couldn’t very well break his cover, they’d coordinated a meet up spot just in case Summers needed an out, or to pass on what he’d learned. And just in time, he saw Synel leading Asle down the other end of the alley, both perked up at seeing him. Roan trailed behind.

“Miss me?” Summers asked.

“It’s only been a day,” Synel replied.

“She’s been pacing, and she checked this spot three times.” Asle interrupted.

Synel halfheartedly kicked towards Asle.

“Traitor.”

“I missed you too.” Asle said.

Synel let out a breath, trying to return to the topic at hand.

“Learned something worthwhile?” Synel asked.

“Besides a lot of gossip, I think I might have the next step in our plan figured out. You know the church?”

“Of course.”

“Well, turns out Asmund’s proof might be inside.”

“I see. I suspected as much, but before you ask, I’ve already tried to find a way to see this proof of Asmund’s. I’ve even spoken to some of the more reasonable thieves around here to look into it, but the area was heavily guarded even before these samr moved in, so. . .”

“I was kind of hoping we could use the same trick we did here, hire someone to pose as a slave, maybe get someone to open a door for us.”

“Dear, literally nobody in this world would be fool enough to let me sell them as a slave. It is quite literally the quickest way to destroy your life. Frankly, I think you might have been a little insane for agreeing to my plan.”

“I’ll do it,” Asle said.

The two paused, looking down at the girl. She shrugged in response, then pointed to Synel.

“They know you, he’s already a slave, and nobody will take someone like Roan. It’s obvious. And if it’s me, then I can just see what they’re hiding and leave.”

“Asle. . .” Summers started.

“No, I wanted to help. This is how. Besides-” Asle flexed her hand, and a portal appeared beside him, only to blink out a moment later. “If I run into trouble, I can leave. I’ve gotten really good at it.”

“She’s been stealing a lot of stuff,” Roan added conspiratorially.

“I give it back,” Asle protested.

“It’s still stealing.”

Summers rubbed at tired eyes. “Are you sure? That you can get out if things get bad, I mean.”

“Yep,” Asle said.

“I think I might be able to negotiate another deal,” Synel admitted. “But it’s going to stretch my credibility. You were a. . . find let’s call it. There is demand for men like you. Moreover, everything I’ve heard about the church suggests they aren’t doing well.”

“How so?”

“Well, the actual guard isn’t happy, and the. . .” Synel glanced at Summers, trying to think of the word. “. . .More prominent factions, they don’t like that their seer has invited another power inside. There’s talk that they could be showing their displeasure soon.”

“. . .Great.” Summers hesitated. “Then maybe we should make our move first.” He turned to Asle. “If you run into any trouble, just make some noise. I’ll make sure I’m in the area, things go bad, I can probably knock a wall or two down.”

Asle brightened at that. Afterwards, Summers explained what he’d seen and learned in the church, and they planned. Summers wasn’t happy about sending a child into this, but if anything, Asle had shown herself able to work under pressure. Getting this far with them alone had proven that. With the situation they were finding themselves in, she might not have the luxury of sitting somewhere safe. Maybe it would be best if he let her step up. If nothing else, it might prepare her for what he was sure was coming.