The crates were a mishmash of different items. One crate had an assortment of different bladed weapons, from larger, curved cutlasses to smaller daggers, all of which gleamed in the rays of sunlight that shone through the long, narrow openings that lined the walls of the room. Like most windows on ships, they had wooden doors that could be swung down to cover them, though they didn’t have any glass panels within them.
That was strange for a large merchant ship, as they usually had more elaborate designs—at least all of the large ships I’d ever been on had. Though, with wings, dragons rarely had to resort to sailing the sea. It was always easier to just fly everywhere. Unfortunately, that wasn’t quite an option right now.
One of the other crates was a stash of herbs and dried seasonings, as well as some corked bottles which had labels with rune-like symbols painted on them. I recognized some of the characters as East Aeridath script, an ancient language that had mostly gone extinct a few hundred years ago. It was mostly used by herbalists and alchemists these days, which meant those bottles were likely some kind of remedy. I tried not to think about it too much, as the inkling to claim them for my collection burned in my chest.
Greed will get you nowhere. I chided myself. That didn’t stop me from eyeing them jealously, though. Luckily, Will didn’t seem to notice—or he just didn’t care.
We continued working through the crates, identifying the goods as Will marked them off on a parchment that lay on a table in the center of the room. When we’d finally finished, he stood, stretched out his back, and then rolled up the parchment and tied it with a string.
“Captain will be happy to hear everything is here,” he said, holding open his vest so he could stuff the parchment into a pocket there.
“And for your trouble…”
He pulled out a handful of coins and held them out without counting them. I licked my lips as I took them and then tucked them into my coin purse. I didn’t get a full count—counting when he hadn’t just felt disrespectful—but I did make out several Gold coins. He must have spotted the twinkle in my eye this time, because he chuckled.
“Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty more of that once we finish up with the shipmaster.”
I nodded and leaned against the table as he worked at one of his hands, massaging his palm with massive, calloused fingers.
“So what’s the plan here, anyway?” I asked, watching him.
His dark brown eyes found mine. “Shipmaster heads home just after dusk every night. Plan is to cut him off before he can get too far out of the docks. Then we’ll have a little talk, maybe throw that needle of yours around a little bit, and see what he has to say. Chances are low he’ll do something stupid, but best to be ready in case he does.”
I jerked my head in agreement and tucked a hand behind the hilt of the dagger stuck in my belt. “What happens if he tries something stupid?”
Will shrugged, his mountainous shoulders hitching up before they dropped with a quick, final motion—like a snowbank cascading during an avalanche. “Then you stick him like the pig he is.”
“Sound enough,” I agreed. His words weren’t exactly filled with malice, but they certainly didn’t sound like the words that a man who was new to killing would say. It was hard to gauge just what Will was capable of with the little time I’d spent with him. If my first impressions were anything to go off, though, there was a reason he’d found success in this line of work, and it had nothing to do with counting goods in crates.
I turned my gaze to the narrow hole that ran the length of the wall, peering out at the sun as it started to dip below the horizon. I still had a few hours before I was expected back at the warehouse to discuss things with Aurelion and the others. Depending on how long this job took, I might be able to get eyes on the route I planned to use to get into the palace. I wouldn’t be able to go in just yet, as I still needed to get a better weapon, and maybe even something to use to hide my face. But, making sure the path was still viable was a good first step.
“Alright, time to get moving,” Will said, starting toward the door.
I pushed off the table and followed him, a puppy following a mammoth. Richter was still standing by the boarding ramp, and he moved out of our way as we approached. He nodded at Will, and I saw the back of Will’s head shift slightly as he nodded back. Richter winked as I passed, so I flashed him my teeth.
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We wove our way through the docks toward the rest of the city, avoiding crates and places where others had stopped to rest or talk to each other. Everyone turned their backs to us as we walked, as if they somehow knew we were up to something and didn’t want to bear witness to it.
Will led the way out of the docks and toward the Southern Quarter; ahead of us I could see where the crowds grew thicker, but before we could reach them, Will pivoted, turning into a narrow alleyway that ran between two buildings. I followed him into the space and we passed out of the alley into another street a few moments later, Will once more pivoting and turning—this time back toward the docks.
Ahead, a lone man dressed in a long brown robe and carrying a stack of parchments, hurried toward us.
“Evening, Shipmaster Truman,” Will’s deep voice called out. The man looked up, his eyes widened and he stopped walking. He quickly shifted and stumbled backwards away from us.
“W…Will,” he stuttered, “What can I—so nice to see—what a coincidence—lovely weather, isn’t—“ his words came out as a garble. His foot caught on one of the cobbles in the street and he almost tripped, some of the parchments he carried dropping to the ground with a rustle of paper.
“Don’t do it,” Will told the man, voice pitched lower with the command—the words laced with an unspoken threat.
Our target shifted his body weight, and he looked like he might try to make a run for it. I stepped away from Will’s side, making the man look between us. I flashed him a smile as I touched a hand to the hilt of my dagger. His eyes widened more and his mouth dropped open a little before he managed to compose himself.
“Right, okay. Of course, I would never think of running from a friend like you. A—Absolutely not.” His grip on the parchments he still held tightened. “H—how can I help you?”
We closed the distance to the shipmaster, and only when we were within spitting distance did Will finally speak again. “You know why we’re here.”
Truman gulped. “Yes, of course. The Siren’s Curse is, uhh, a few payments behind. Yes, I remember reading about that in our paperwork.”
“Behind?“ Will grumbled. “We are not behind on our payments. We’ve paid everything we agreed to.”
“Fees change, Will.” the man said with a wavering chuckle. “The economy is always in flux, you should know this. We don’t make the rules, the dragons do.”
I quirked my head to the side at that. It was the first time I’d heard a human actually mention dragons in passing since my awakening. It was also downright amusing to hear someone try to pass the blame off to us like we had a care to offer when it came to taxes and fees on incoming and outgoing goods. I’d never once heard anyone in the imperial office discuss such things.
“We both know that is not true,” Will reached out a hand and put it on Truman’s shoulder. “Do we really need to play this game, Truman? Be a man of your word, and we won’t have any problems.”
Truman shook his head. Something in the man’s look changed. His shoulders drew up, his chest puffing out, as if he’d suddenly found his confidence.
“You know, Will, the problem with men like yourself is that you think you can bully anyone smaller than you.” His voice no longer wavered or quaked.
I let my eyes focus on him and willed my [Insight] skill to activate. Gold shimmered over the man and then a window appeared next to him.
Name: Julian Truman.
Race: Human.
User Information: One of several Shipmasters employed by the Imperial Shipping Council. Stationed in the Southern Docks of Caelthara. No special information available.
Current Status: Resolute.
The window flashed and larger text replaced it.
System updating…
Warning.
Shipmaster Woes Quest Objective Updated! New Objective: Survive the ambush.
“Hells,” I muttered loud enough for Will to hear me. His eyes darted in my direction as I twisted away from the shipmaster. Men dressed in leather armor stepped from the surrounding alleyways and doorways.
Will let out a sigh and flashed another glance in my direction. I drew the dagger from my belt. “It doesn’t have to come to this. Tell him, Will.”
I glanced over my shoulder, trying to keep my eyes on as many of the approaching men as I could. Will had stepped forward while I was distracted and his hands were tight around the shipmaster’s neck. I watched with a little shock as he wrung the life from the man’s body, Truman’s lips growing purple as Will’s grip tightened.
Well, I guess there wasn’t any going back from this. Not now. He’d just killed a city official. I turned my attention back to the approaching men. Their armor was clean. Too clean. City guards, then. Well, that was going to cause some trouble for me. And I’d thought that this job might be easy.
I should have known better. I'd been an idiot.
My eyes locked on the short swords that the men drew, their blades gleaming in the fading daylight. The circle around us closed tighter. A body thudded to the cobblestones behind me, and Will stepped up next to me.
“Sorry about this, friend.” He said, his voice cold. His eyes scanned the faces of the approaching men. “There’s still a chance for you all to walk away. Forget you saw anything. I’ll double whatever he’s paying you.”
One of the men, a big one with a thick mustache over his lip, leaned forward, his sword inching closer to us. “‘Fraid that ain’t an option, seeing as you just killed one of the city’s shipmasters. Just turn yourself in. No more trouble has to be had.”
“Yeah, sorry, that isn’t really an option right now,” I bit out. Then I lunged, the needle-like dagger in my hand a blur as I stepped forward, letting my body move without thinking.
This was the first time I’d truly tested my new limits since adding to my [Dexterity]. I hadn’t even been sure what it would affect. I was happy, but not wholly surprised, when I moved much faster than before, easily closing the distance between myself and the big guy with the mustache.
He grinned wickedly as my dagger slammed against the edge of his sword, metal on metal ringing through the air.
Then the real dance began.