How is it that it smelled better in the prison cell than it does out here? I sighed as I put distance between myself and the guard outpost. Amazingly there were no guards outside so I didn't have to slip past anyone else, but I still felt antsy about being anywhere near the building while dressed like a vagrant. It was noon, by the looks of things, but I didn't know exactly how many days I was locked up for. Actually, where am I? I wondered as I looked around. It was clearly somewhere in the east end judging by the amount of wooden and partially wooden buildings, but I didn't recognize my surroundings. Great, I thought sarcastically, now I need to wander around until I find something that looks familiar.

Once I saw the burned-down office that Koyl and I had guarded I got my sense of direction back and knew where I was. They carried me almost a kilometer, I thought, it's strange that they would waste so much effort on a vagrant. I suppose they did think I was... well... me, but still. I kept my eyes out for Hatchet Crew members, suspecting strongly that Yaavtey might have told them to keep an eye out for me, but I didn't see any. People avoided me in the street, turning up their noses at my appearance and probably my smell. It's been days, I noted, I still stink of blood and rot.

Out of the two choices of destinations, I chose the first one and headed to the inn. Not wanting to cause a disturbance, I went around the back of the building and jumped the fence into the small yard, then grabbed a bucket and pumped out some water. Halfway through my bathing a guest came out to do the same thing as I was, but he didn't seem to care much about me. Once I had finally gotten as much of the smell of death off of me as possible, I put my rags back on and entered the inn through the back door.

The inn's main floor was sparsely populated and Yehpweyl seemed to be waiting on a table, so I slipped up the stairs and went to my room. Shit, I thought, I gave Koyl the key, didn't I? I could have just broken down the door, but I knew that doing something like that would just get me into more trouble. Instead, I turned to the room across from mine and knocked on the door. After getting no reply I tried the knob and, to my shock, the door opened. The inside of the room was mostly empty and it looked like it had been cleaned.

I rifled through the room, trying to find my key, but neither it nor any of Koyl's possessions or money were stored inside. It's only been, at most, a week, I thought, don't tell me Koyl up and left after we failed to kill Yaavtey. And if he did, where is my stuff? I felt a cold anger burbling up from my lower abdomen, slowly filling my chest with uncomfortable pressure. My body wanted to hit something, but I forced it not to. A creak sounded from behind me, and I whipped around to see Yehpweyl glaring at me with a knife drawn.

“You have to pay for a room here,” she said coldly.

“I already did,” I replied, pulling back my hood. “Where are my things, and where's Koyl?” Yehpweyl took a moment, but then I saw that she recognized me. She didn't become less angry.

“Get out,” she ordered, “don't you come back here either. Get out before I call the guards.” The cold rage flowed up into my neck, and I felt my breaths become deeper.

“I'm not in the mood for this,” I growled, “where are my possessions?” Yehpweyl made the incredibly stupid decision to try to stab me with the knife in response. I snatched her forearm near the wrist and stopped the attack dead, then squeezed until I heard snapping. Yehpweyl's grip on the knife loosened and she gasped, but I caught the weapon with force magic and held it in place. With deliberate slowness I grasped it out of midair with my right hand and pointed it back at its owner, watching Yehpweyl's eyes track it the entire time. “Close the door,” I ordered quietly. To my surprise, Yehpweyl complied and shut the door behind her with her foot.

“I knew you were some kind of freak,” Yehpweyl snapped, staring daggers at me. Tears were forming in her eyes from the pain I had inflicted on her, but none of it showed in her voice.

“Possessions. Koyl. now,” I demanded, pointing her own weapon back at her.

“I don't know where that poymawpjhoyjh ngaazmayjh is,” Yehpweyl scowled. “I don't care if he's alive or dead.” Mild surprise interrupted my anger.

“You two got along well,” I said, “what did he do to make you so angry?” Yehpweyl barked out a few harsh laughs, and I crushed her still-healing bones again to cut her off and remind her of her position.

“What? You think I liked him just because I'd listen to him prattle on and on about whatever stupid shit he wanted to talk about?” she scoffed. “Do you know how much money that idiot would waste if I so much as flashed my moymz at him? I doubt he saved a single ngeyt he made since he met you. Anything not spent on food he spent to seyt me, so I got all of it.” The woman's face was a malevolent grin, as though she thought what she was saying was hurting me. I suspected that Koyl wasn't saving his money as promised, I thought, but if I can finish the Yaavtey job it doesn't matter. “He was a quick lay-” Yehpweyl continued with a snort.

“I don't care about any of that,” I said, cutting her off, “where is he?”

“I told you, I don't know,” Yehpweyl replied. “You can let my arm go, I'm not going to run. It's my inn.”

“No,” I said simply, “my possessions, where are they?” Yehpweyl laughed again, this time while looking into my eyes.

“I sold them, obviously,” she replied. “You were gone for five days. You didn't pay that far in adva-AAH!” Her speech turned into a scream when I began burning a hole into Yehpweyl's wrist. I knew how thin the walls were in the inn so I was sure someone had heard her, but I was too angry to care. “You yeyhhayseytay npoyt ngaazmayjh tuwb zeyl...” the string of curses coming out of Yehpweyl's mouth was quite impressive for someone in so much pain.

“Who did you sell them to!?” I demanded. The acrid smell of burning flesh had filled the room, and a quick glance at the wound I had inflected showed that it dug to the bone. Yehpweyl kicked me in the crotch as hard as she could, inflicting a surprising but not disabling amount of pain. Seeing my reaction, she kicked again three more times. On the third time, I caught her leg with force magic and held it in place, then stabbed her in the knee with her own knife and left the weapon embedded as I released her arm. Yehpweyl crumbled to the ground, bleeding and swearing under her breath.

“You screwed with the wrong woman,” she said quietly, “I know people-”

“The Hatchet Crew,” I interrupted, “I'm very much aware, but thank you for confirming it. What you should think about right now is this: If Yaavtey himself couldn't kill me five days ago, why would I be afraid of any of the lower members that you could possibly send after me?” Yehpweyl looked up at me defiantly as if she thought I was bluffing, but I wasn't, and she quickly came to understand that fact. The color drained from her face, and her expression shifted subtly. “Who did you sell my weapons to?” I growled. “The armor too. And where is my money?”

“I don't have the money,” she groaned as she tried to pull out the knife, only succeeding at inflicting more pain on herself. Her shoulders hung slack and she panted, staring at the blade.

“Why?” I asked.

“It's not free to-” Yehpweyl began, pausing as she pulled the knife out of her knee with a yelp. “It costs money to run an inn,” she continued, “I have debts to pay, and frankly your contribution made quite a bit of difference this month.” She started to rise to her feet unsteadily, and wasn't even looking when my fist dislocated her jaw and knocked her right back to the floor. “Wha-?” she groaned, blinking her eyes rapidly after smashing into the wall.

“You owe me sixty-three ngoywngeyt and seventeen ngeyt,” I spat, “I will extract that value from you or your possessions.” Yehpweyl's jaw snapped back into position and she started to get up again. She then looked at me and saw my expression, then opted to stay seated. “The weapons,” I said coldly, “you sold those, to whom?”

“I don't know,” Yehpweyl mumbled, looking away, “just some guy. I have people who come by for things the visitors leave behind, and this guy was just one of them. He paid well for them.”

“How much?” I asked.

“I don't know, enough?” she replied uncertainly. I took a step towards the disheveled woman and saw her flinch back away from me. Squatting down so that I was on her eye level, I leaned in and put very little space between our heads.

“How. Much?” I repeated. Yehpweyl met my eyes, then looked away again. I could smell blood on her breath.

“Thirty-something ngoywngeyt,” she muttered. A quick jab broke her nose and smashed her head against the wall, stunning her and spattering blood around the room.

“Liar,” I shouted, “don't you fucking lie to me! I will kill you so painfully that death will be a mercy, then I'll dump your corpse into the street for the rats to claim. I am avoiding the guard out of convenience, not necessity, and I am very short on patience at this moment. If you're going to lie, I might as well just kill you and find the answers myself. Look me in the eyes, am I lying to you!?” My rage was flowing freely, and it took three whole seconds for Yehpweyl to meet my gaze. “AM I LYING TO YOU!?” I repeated, much more loudly.

“N-no,” she said quietly before averting her eyes.

“Who did you sell my equipment to?” I asked again. Yehpweyl flinched and shut her eyes.

“It's a mercenary who works for the Flowing Wings,” she strained out, “but I haven't actually made the delivery yet. Rather, he hasn't come by to pick it up. We worked out the details while I was still having them appraised, and confirmed by letter.” I had no idea who the Flowing Wings were, but I assumed they were another mercenary company. Probably one that operates in nicer parts of town, I thought, considering that I've never heard of them before and they’re willing to pay large sums of money to strangers.

“If I'm understanding you correctly, that means you still have my possessions on hand,” I said. When Yehpweyl didn't reply, I remembered that Uwrish body language didn't include a nonverbal assent gesture, only confirmation. “Nod if you do,” I added. Yehpweyl nodded furiously. “Where?” I demanded.

“You can't!” she protested, opening her eyes. “You don't understand, those people will kill me if they think I'm trying to scam them! Half of them are nobility, they don't think for a moment about butchering regular people like me!” I almost laughed as the pathetic human in front of me tried to appeal to my sense of mercy.

“I'll kill you if you don't tell me where they are, and I'll do it right here with that knife,” I growled. “Or maybe you'd prefer to go out the same way that stupid npoyt in the Hatchet Crew guild hall did, you heard about that didn't you?” The look on her face told me that she had, and when I reached out a hand towards her face she squirmed away from it.

“They're downstairs in my quarters!” she yelled. “Just take them and get out!” I stood up and walked to the door, paying attention with my hearing to see if Yehpweyl would make a move. Surprisingly she didn't.

“You're going to stay in this room until I return,” I said. “If I don't find everything, you'll be making up the difference to me some other way. I should warn you, I can be very creative.” The silence was all I needed as a reply, so I walked out into the hall. Just before I shut the door, I turned back and met Yehpweyl's eyes once more. “Don't forget about what you already owe me either,” I warned her. “If you want to keep your life you'll remember your debts to me.”