Laura breathed out, narrowing her eyes slightly at Gideon. “In the flesh. Now that you’ve chased away paying customers, go ahead, tell me. What do you want?”

“I simply want two halves of a chivalrous organization to once again join hands. You were once Nightfellows, weren’t you? If I had to guess, you were the Madame coordinating the softer half of business under the old Gideon, right?” Gideon guessed.

Jet frowned at Gideon. The old Gideon? Nightfellows? What…

Wait. I remember. The Nightfellows are a criminal organization who have infested the country, and especially the capital, for the last few centuries. They’ve faded recently, but they were once the scourge of the city. I remember one of my teachers mentioning them in passing, back in the day.

The Gideon, though? What does that mean? And wait, is this what Gideon was trying to tell me, back when he asked if I knew what his last name meant?

Hold on, was Gideon about to confess to being a member of the underworld within hours of our meeting? What kind of inexplicable decision is that? Was it some kind of attempt to intimidate me? But…

Jet rubbed his temples and took a deep breath. There’s no point thinking too hard about it. Gideon requires neither rhyme nor reason. He probably would have treated the whole thing as a joke and made fun of me for taking it seriously.

Laura took another drag from her pipe. “That was the old us. Now we’re a proper and upright frozen treats shop.”

“You aren’t interested in going back to your old ways?” Gideon asked.

Laura shrugged. “I’m interested in money. With the reforms, the king was locking down on our kind, especially in the capital. Ice cream, on the other hand?”

“Is that really all?” Gideon probed, tipping his head.

“Well, the girls are free to take gigs on the side, as long as they pay me a cut, and the boys still protect us for a cut, so it’s not like it’s all that different. We’ve just got a daytime revenue as well, now,” Laura said, gesturing with the pipe.

Gideon nodded wisely. “Times may change, the façade may alter, but the essence remains the same.”

“I’m not sure what you said, but it sounds right,” Laura said.

“Wait… This… is a criminal enterprise?” Jet asked, reeling. I should… I should… I should do something!

“It’s only a whorehouse on the side. You wouldn’t shut down everyone’s favorite ice cream shop for a few little side gigs, would you?” Gideon asked.

“A few little…” Jet muttered.

Gideon shrugged. He gave Jet a look, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “All they’re doing are bringing people joy. Whether through frozen dairy treats or a little old-fashioned whoring, it’s all the same, isn’t it?”

“Whoring is not the same as ice cream!” Jet protested. He looked at the women, his hands out, eyes wide.

“I guess they are pretty similar, huh,” Laura commented, breathing out a stream of smoke.

The young woman behind the ice cream counter put a finger to her chin. “Mmm, I am happier now that I don’t have to whore every night, but I don’t mind it every now and again. Like ice cream, really.”

Am I the only sane one here? Jet wondered, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Well, if it isn’t so different from the old ways, why don’t you re-merge with the other half of the Nightfellows?” Gideon suggested.

“I don’t like that Jimothy fellow. He’s a bit off in the head,” Laura protested.

“Good news! I took care of him,” Gideon said, winking.

Jet stared. “You… what?”

Gideon glanced at Jet, then sighed. “Okay, I might have bluffed a bit about killing him, but he probably doesn’t have long to live. If the burns don’t kill him, the men burying him alive will. Incidentally, I also found out a lot about the collar and the limits on its rules.”

Eyes wide, Jet reeled. “You… what?”

Gideon glanced at Jet. “Excuse me, ladies, just a moment…”

Laura and the ice cream server nodded, giving him time.

Gideon drew Jet aside, backing into the corner for a moment. “Listen, Jet, we’re negotiating with criminals here. Treat everything I say as fiction, understood? I’m trying to intimidate them a little bit. Trust me, this is all for the good of the party—the good of the world, ultimately. Don’t sweat the details, don’t get your panties in a twist, and let Gideon do the talking, okay?”

“That didn’t sound like a ‘fiction.’ Besides, why are we negotiating with criminals? How does this help the party, let alone the world?” Jet asked.

Gideon waved his hand. “Like I said, don’t sweat the details.”

“Those aren’t details! Those are the most important parts!” Jet protested.

“Don’t sweat the details,” Gideon repeated, walking back toward the women. “So where was I…?”

Jet stared after him, jaw gaping. Is it just me, or has Gideon gotten bolder lately?

I’m starting to think removing the collar is a bad idea…

Leaning on the counter, Gideon looked at the two women. “I’ll be honest. I defeated Jimothy, and I’m the new Gideon. I want to get the band back together. Connect the two halves of the business. What do you lovely ladies say? I’ll ensure the boys don’t charge you more than the minimum, and we won’t encroach on your ice cream territory, either.”

Laura lifted the pipe to her lips, thinking. After a second, she nodded and waved her hand. “And you don’t serve any fresh-fruit-based flavors. That’s our market.”

Gideon considered, pressing his lips together. “You’ll have to have that fight with the other half. They were getting pretty excited about trying new flavors… I don’t even know where it came from, honestly.”

“Fine. Anything you want from us, Gideon?” Laura asked, pulling on her pipe.

“That easily?” Jet asked, staggered.

“Mmm? If he can really get the boys to charge us the minimum, that’s already a huge improvement. If he can’t, I can ignore what he’s saying, because he isn’t the real Gideon, and he’s got no sway with the boys, hence no way to threaten us. Is it that confusing?” Laura replied, looking at Jet with narrowed eyes.

“W…when you put it that way,” Jet said. He shook his head, disoriented beyond belief. What just happened? I’m completely lost. I walked into a room and ended up in a very strange world.

Gideon leaned forward, an evil grin on his face. “I want you… to tell me where your ice comes from.”

“This again?” Jet muttered under his breath.

“Oh, that? Why didn’t you say so? That’s easy.” Laura took a drag and breathed smoke over her shoulder, gesturing with the pipe. “Dragons.”