Florette III: The Swindler

“I bet we could use your noble status to get a free room.” Florette straightened her hair as they approached the noisy building, still basking in the feeling of success. Was this what Captain Verrou felt like when he stole the Seaward Folly, flying his flag for all of Avalon to see? Or the Queen of the Exiles, when she tricked the High King of Micheltaigne? If so, she could certainly see why they did it. “Just flash your status around and they’ll probably offer it without us even asking.”

“I’m not a noble,” Fernan hissed. “Didn’t you just say you got us out of the gate fee so we could afford a room anyway?”

Florette rolled her eyes. “The same thing applies here. Use the free ride as long as we’ve got it, right? Why not? It’d be nice to stick it to those noble pricks that threw us to the wolves in the Foxtrap.”

“It could get us killed!” Fernan’s green eyes flared up, somehow not singing his eyebrows. “Just take the victory. We have a lot to prepare for, here.”

“There‘s almost no chance we’d get caught…” Fernan’s face remained impassive. “Fine, if you insist.”

“I do.”

“What is this place, exactly?” Mara asked, barely audible under the increasingly loud music, a similar otherworldly chirp to the one that Avalon bard had played at the First Post, only at an even higher intensity. “All of the humans seem to be moving around a lot. Are they finding mates?”

“What?” Fernan blinked. “No, of course not. It’s called dancing. They’re enjoying the music.”

“Some of them probably are.” She had seen it often enough at the First Post, easily the worst part of spending so much time there. “I’m more curious about how you knew the name, Fernan.”

“Oh, Magnifico mentioned it. I thought it might be nice to start somewhere more familiar.”

Florette’s eyes narrowed. “The Avalon bard? Khali’s curse, why not go anywhere else? He said he serves the royal family personally! He’s complicit in everything Avalon’s done!”

“He invited me to come see him, and I think he might be able to get us an introduction to the Sun Temple.”

Florette stared at him silently.

“I have to try, alright? He’s playing for Duke Fouchand; that has to give him a lot of influence here. Anything to save Villechart.”

She sighed. “It’s your quest, your choice. But you can’t blame me if I head out early to find another place to stay.”

“We can agree to meet at the pier tomorrow. I still want to see the ocean.” He sighed. “Go to the ocean, I mean. You don’t even need to come in, if you don’t want to. I just need to ask for his help.”

“It’s fine, I’ll go. Just don’t ask me to talk to him. Could use a drink, and you need the backup.”

“I’ll keep your back up, Fernan! Just show me where you like to have it elevated.” Mara had been getting a lot of stares from passersby, but mercifully that meant most of them kept their distance as well.

“Thank you, Mara, but I’ll be fine.” Fernan patted her lightly on her upper back.

“You should keep silent once we’re inside,” Florette added. “Familiars are just animal servants infused with spiritual energy; they’re not meant to be intelligent enough to speak.”

“But we’re not pretending I’m a sage anymore.” Fernan tilted his head. “Why would we need to keep up that part of the ruse?”

Florette drummed her fingers against her leg. “What do you think happens when people see you talking to a giant fire gecko? You’re doing business for your town, and the Temple ought to respect that, but if they get the idea that you’re here on behalf of an evil spirit, things will get a lot more difficult.” Honestly, she still didn’t understand why they had taken Mara at all, but she knew better than to bring that up again. “And you were never pretending to be a sage, Fernan. You are a sage, and that can help you a lot here if you take advantage of it. Whether or not there’s any pretense of nobility.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” Fernan pressed his lips together tightly. “I’m sorry to even ask, but Mara, could you please keep quiet while we’re around other people? Florette has a point; it would make it easier for all of us to get what we want, here.”

Strangely, instead of replying, Mara nodded her head up and down, almost as if she was imitating a person. The effect was incredibly unsettling, but Fernan smiled back as she did.

“Thank you,” he said. “And nicely done. You got the movement just right.”

Mara paced excitedly in a circle, curls of smoke trailing out of her mouth.

“No lies to get us in,” Fernan whispered judgmentally as they approached the front door.

“I know,” Florette snapped. Nothing was more annoying than being accused of something you weren’t even going to do. “You’ve got an invitation anyway.”

As she opened the door, the music grew even louder, almost deafening once they stepped inside. People were packed tightly together in the center of the room, dancing to the pounding music that seemed to be coming from everywhere at once.

The lanterns lighting everything were each set behind a multicolored fractal pattern of glass, casting scintillating colors over the entire room. Only the bar had normal light over it, crowded out by countless shadowed figures.

A guarded staircase led to a balcony overlooking the dancing, shrouded in shadow. But even in the dim light, the Avalon bard was plain to see, a glass of brown liquid in his hands as he chatted with a poised woman in a white dress, curly black hair and sparkling red earrings elegantly framing her face.

“That’s Magnifico!” she shouted over the din, elbowing Fernan to point up at him.

Fernan nodded, walking up to the guard at the foot of the staircase with Mara following closely behind. Florette kept a bit of distance, ready to intervene if he looked like he were in trouble. He yelled something inaudible to the guard, then seemed to repeat himself after he failed to be heard.

The guard shrugged and walked up the staircase backwards, keeping a careful eye on Fernan and Mara as he whispered in Magnifico’s ear. The bard leaned over the balcony to glance at Fernan, then nodded in approval, beckoning with a wave of his hand.

“I’ll leave you to it!” Florette patted Fernan on the back as he began ascending the stairs. He could speak with the Avalon bard if he really felt he had to, but she would sooner avoid the situation, herself. Either she’d have to hold her anger in and simmer impotently, or she’d fail and cause a scene that would make things harder for Fernan.

Better to get a drink.

Behind the bar, a wooden sign hung on the wall, the names of different drinks burned into it, numbered from one to six. How many people could read in this city, that they would bother to do that? Though maybe it said more about the clientele of the club.

Most items were familiar: Gold Coast Ale, Château Malin Red, and Arboreum Mead were all mainstays at The First Post, and made up the first half of the list. But the others were totally alien: Essence of Nightshade, Marigold Wine, and something called brandy, all of which Florette knew for a fact had never been served there. Intriguing, and why was she here, if not to try new things?

“One brandy!” she requested, shouting to be heard over the noise as she set her travel bag down on her lap. Finding an inn would be worth it just to stop having to carry everything around everywhere.

The bartender, a short man in his thirties, looked at her with his eyebrows raised. “For you?”

Prick. Florette clenched her fist. “No, for the gecko on the balcony. The fuck do you care?”

He shrugged, pulling out an enormous, wide-bottomed glass and a gourd-shaped glass bottle from under the counter. After pouring it enough to fill the glass about halfway up, he slid it across the counter to her. “Fifty florins.”

“Fifty?” That was more than half of her money. Even a Lyrion Single Malt, the First Post’s most expensive drink, only cost eight.

He smirked. “I warned you. It’s an Avalon import during a festival season. If you want cheap swill, you’re in the wrong place.”

“Side-eyeing me is not a warning!” Florette hissed.

At that, his smile only grew wider, begging for someone to knock it in.

Florette took a deep breath, trying to avoid smashing his face into the counter. “Just give me Gold Coast Ale instead.”

“Drink’s already been poured, sorry.” He leaned closer. “Of course, maybe I could do you a favor if you did one for me. I’m sure we could work something out if you can’t afford it.”

Wrinkling her nose, Florette pulled out her coin purse. “I’d sooner set myself on fire.” She threw the florins down on the counter, grabbing the drink.

She’d been planning to sit at the bar, but that was right out. She didn’t want to waste the overpriced drink by throwing it in anyone’s face. Going up to see the Avalon bard was a poor idea for a similar reason. Most of the room was filled by the dancing throngs of people in the center, with only a few tables around the outskirts, all of them full. Ugh.

Feeling the pounding of the music in her skull, she leaned against the wall opposite from the bar and hoped Fernan would be finished soon. Unfortunately, looking up at the balcony, it didn’t seem likely. He was seated across from Magnifico and the woman, Mara lying next to him, seemingly animated in his conversation. With any luck, that meant he was making progress getting what he needed from the bard, but in the moment, it was just another irritation.

Gingerly, she tipped the glass enough to take a small sip of the strange drink, feeling a slight sting in her nose as she stuck it in.

It went down fairly smoothly though, filling her with a sense of warmth and calm. Good, but at fifty florins, it’d had every obligation to be. The second sip was even smoother, and by the third she was feeling a lot better about the whole thing. Why not treat herself to something nice, even if it’d happened by accident? She felt her foot tapping to the music as her body loosened up.

It was good that the drink was so strong, because it wasn’t long before it was gone, and with it, all trace of her fifty florins. She waited there for a few minutes, dreading the moment when she would have to return the glass. That prick at the bar still had that smug look on his face, like fucking people over amused him.

Turning her eye once more to the balcony saw Fernan waving down at her, beckoning her up.

What a terrible idea, she thought as she picked up her bag and walked to the staircase, past the guard. But it was giving her the beginnings of an idea. A way to even the score, to outwit the villain.

“…that’s the issue with binders: they’re nothing without their tools. Say what you will about the sage’s contract, but once they make the deal, the power is theirs. It can’t be stolen or destroyed.” Magnifico looked utterly relaxed as she approached, an amiable smile on his face. “Even the Great Binder had her fair share of close calls, in her early years.”

“Florette!” Fernan patted the empty seat next to him. “Magnifico was just explaining the Avalon spiritual traditions. It’s fascinating how differently they approached it. Although, it seems a bit cruel.”

Magnifico shrugged as Florette sat down. “I say it’s just. If a spirit attacks, it’s only reasonable to slay it and harvest it for artifacts. It’s the only way to use their power without subordinating yourself to their dark desires. Without the Great Binder and the countless spirits she harvested, Khali could never have been banished from this world.”

They were talking about Avalon history? She grit her teeth. “Was there something you wanted from me, Fernan?”

He blinked. “Oh right, of course. Sorry.”

“Yes, where are my manners?” Magnifico gestured to the graceful woman in the chair next to him. “This is Edith Costeau, of Guerron. Fernan thought you might like to meet her.”

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” the woman added.

Edith Costeau? “It is such an honor, Madame. Tales of your music have reached even my humble village. Sometimes the traders bring bards to play your songs, and they’re always the highlight of the visit.” She blinked. “Oh, but I’m sure they’re much better when you play them though. I’ve never heard a harp before but I heard that they were all written for that, and I’m sure that their voices don’t measure up to yours.” She laughed nervously. “I know you must hear that all the time.”

“Hmph.” She shrugged. “It’s always nice to meet fans of my work. If you’re staying in the city for the Festival, I’m sure you’ll get to hear me in person.”

“I can’t wait!” Florette bounced slightly in her chair. “Um. By which I mean, I wish you luck.”

She shook her head slightly. “One ought not to wish performers luck, my dear. It simply isn’t done. But the sentiment is appreciated.”

She called me “my dear”! Florette nodded. “Of course. I apologize.”

Edith Costeau turned to Magnifico. “I think that will have to be it for me. I need to stay well-rested.”

“You can’t stay a bit longer?” I just got here.

She shook her head. “I’m afraid not. It was nice to meet both of you.” She dipped her head as she stood, then descended the staircase.

Magnifico suppressed a slight chuckle. “Don’t take it personally. She’s been prickly with me, too. Probably not happy about all the attention my music has been getting.”

“I was wondering about that, actually,” Fernan said. “I don’t see the band. Are they hidden in another room?”

The bard shook his head. “It’s an automated system. By punching holes in sheets of paper and feeding them into my pulsebox, it’s possible to––”

“I think I’m going to head back down.” Florette stood up, shooting Fernan a look.

He nodded back at her. “That makes sense. I’ll tell you what we worked out later.”

That sounded promising for him, at least.

By the time she was back on the ground floor, she felt the pulse of the music fill her again, the feeling of the brandy pulsing through her body. This was her last chance to abort, but that would be cowardice. It was up to her to win.

A wide smile on her face, she sauntered back to the bar and sat on a stool, placing her elbows on the counter. “Hey, barkeep!”

The man turned to face her, looking a bit bewildered.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

He raised an eyebrow, walking closer. “Is that so?”

Florette nodded, laying the brandy glass down on the bar. “I was a bit shocked by the price, but it was worth every florin.” She traced her finger around the edge of the glass. “I’m new in town, and it would be nice to have a friend here. Especially someone so important.”

He laughed. “I appreciate the change of heart, but I’m not giving you free drinks.”

She shook her head. “No, of course not! I’m sure the owner would be really mad at you if you did.”

“I have a lot of pull with the owner, actually. But nothing in life is free.” He smirked again. “Of course, if you had something you were willing to offer… Well, I’m always happy to help people get a good start in a new city.”

She held her hands up under her chin, resting the overwhelming feel of her skin crawling all over her body. “How about an evening with Edith Costeau? I’d be happy to introduce you.”

He frowned. “That’s not really what I had in mind.”

“Just think about her giving a private performance for the Singer’s Lounge. It would be an even bigger draw than the Avalon bard, I’d bet. People here know her. And it would all be thanks to you. Your boss would finally stop overlooking your accomplishments here.”

“You could really make that happen?” he asked skeptically.

“You saw me up there talking to her. I may be new to Guerron, but Magnifico and I are practically family, and we’ve been getting along with Edith like a house on fire. If we suggested it, I’m sure she’d be happy to oblige.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you’d do all this for a free drink?”

“Of course not.” Florette laughed him off. “I set this up, and I drink here for free from now on. I’d be setting you up with one hell of a boon. Just think, you might get a stake in the Lounge, in recognition of your talent. Then you’d benefit from its success just as much as the owner. They’d have to keep you happy, knowing how important you are to keeping things running.”

“I don’t know…” His mouth twisted. “Honestly, I’m not sure I believe you. And it seems like a steep price.”

Florette shrugged. “She just left. Should be right outside. Just ask her, and mention my name, Valentine. That ought to be enough, and if I’m wrong, then you don’t have to give me anything.”

He stroked his chin. “Only two drinks free per night, no brandy, and only after the performance, if it really happens.”

“Six drinks, no brandy, starting once she agrees to do it.”

“Four, starting once it happens.” He pressed his hands down against the bar. “That’s as far as I’m willing to go.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “If you insist.”

“I do.” He slipped out from behind the bar and walked to the front door. As he walked out into the night, Florette’s heart was racing.

Casually, careful not to look behind her, she made her way around to the other side of the bar. As she stared off into space, she reached around under the counter until she felt her fingers across the telltale gourd shape. Perfect!

She quickly slipped it into her bag, hanging from one shoulder. She waved at Fernan as she walked to the door herself, careful not to move too quickly. She could meet up with him later, but for now, it was probably a good idea to put a bit of distance between her and the Lounge.

As she left, she noticed the barkeep hurrying south to catch up to Edith Costeau, perhaps a hundred yards away. Florette went the opposite direction, then turned to maintain her course on a parallel street at the first opportunity.

Yes! The bartender would be blamed for the missing bottle, that much was certain. There was a decent chance that he’d annoy Costeau enough to be a problem for him too, given the way he was hurrying after her. Served him right. She couldn’t possibly have been the first one he’d tried that disgusting routine on.

For the first time since Fernan’s… since all of that, she finally felt like a hero, like she’d accomplished something genuinely good.

The light of the moon made it easy to navigate, even in the dark. She still had to find a new place to sleep, but that wasn’t too much of a concern. In the worst case, she could make camp at the outskirts, but it seemed like it ought to be possible to parley a bit of brandy for a free night at one of the smaller inns, if it was really such a luxury.

Really though, she felt energized enough to stay up all night. Perhaps she could tour the city, then meet up with Fernan at the pier in the morning. He would know to look for her there, after they had discussed it earlier.

In fact––

“Nicely done.”

Florette jumped, spinning around to look behind her.

A woman stood alone on the road, a slim silhouette framed in shadow, light brown hair cut short.

“You were incredibly sloppy, of course. The bartender will know it was you once he gets back, and the guard by the balcony saw you walk out. I think he might have even seen you stealing something from the bar, but judged that it wouldn’t be worth the ruckus of catching you when they could so easily ban you for life instead.”

“Uh…”

The woman smiled, emphasizing her thin lips. “I take it you’re inexperienced, after the thrill more than the plunder. Don’t worry, you’ll learn.”

“You’re not going to tell them, are you?”

“Tch.” She shook her head. “That would make me quite the hypocrite. And the prick at the bar needed to be taken down a peg. I’d have done it myself, but I’m involved with other affairs at the Singer’s Lounge that doing anything too public would have interfered with. Similar issue with that bard.”

“Ugh, Magnifico? I know what you mean. He’s not just some musician; he directly serves the Avalon royal family, and people just let him in like it’s nothing!”

With a nod, the woman folded her arms. “Nice to see that you agree.”

“So… Good?”

“Good, yes, precisely. I just thought I should warn you not to go back, and commend your efforts.” She stepped closer, her face gleaming in the moonlight. “I’m Eloise.”

“Florette.” She drummed her fingers against the side of her leg. “What other affairs, exactly?”

“Oh, just doubling up on a bit of work.” Eloise held up a notebook. “I like to go over the supply manifests while I’m casing a place. It saves time, which is worth its weight in gold while we’re ashore.”

“Casing?”

She nodded. “A bit of pirate jargon. It means inspecting somewhere you’re planning to steal from.”

Pirate? “So,” she spoke, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice. “What were you planning to steal?”

Eloise clasped her hands together. “That bard’s foreign music box. Any technology from the Cambrian College is sure to fetch a hefty price, and Captain Verrou says he has a buyer lined up.”

Florette felt the pulse of the brandy anew, blood pounding in her ears. “You don’t mean Robin Verrou, do you?” she whispered, barely able to keep the reverence out of her voice.

“The very same.” Eloise pulled a button out of her jacket and flipped it over to Florette. Looking down, she saw Verrou’s trademark emblem of black swords on an orange sea. Could it really be him?

“Would you like to help?”