Victor smiled and said, “I’d appreciate any help in making sure that relationships between the Thalavars and Dhostars and their peoples run smoothly. If you have any other problems, please feel free to contact me.” He held out a hand.
Olive shook the merchant’s hand briefly.
“Well, now. I’m afraid I must ask you to excuse me. There is some paperwork I must examine aboard my ship.” He turned to Alias. “I should only be a few minutes,” he explained.
Alias nodded. “We’ll wait,” she said.
“He’s not only cute, he’s quite a charmer,” Olive said once Victor was out of earshot. “If he could bottle that, he could double his family’s fortune.”
“Yes, he is charming,” Alias agreed. “But enough about him,” she snapped. “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing in Westgate.”
“Hello, Dragonbait,” the halfling greeted the saurial. “You’re looking well. How’re CopperBloom and the hatchlings?”
Dragonbait signed in the thieves’ hand cant, Very well, thank you. It’s always a surprise to see you. What are you doing in Westgate?
“I’ve agreed to help out Lady Nettel of House Thalavar,” the halfling replied. “Lady Nettel does a lot of trading with the halflings of the Shining South and hires a lot of them to run her business. She tends to trust halflings since the Night Masks don’t accept us in their guild. Lady Nettel won’t have anything to do with the Night Masks, and since she refuses to pay protection, her ships and warehouses get robbed or vandalized more than anyone else’s, and a lot of her halfling workers are getting hurt in the process.”
“So you came here as a hired sword?” Alias asked.
Olive shook her head. “I started out teaching music to Her Ladyship’s granddaughter. I’ve sort of moved into an advisory position, trying to keep security tight enough so no more halflings get hurt, and so the Masks will decide we’re too difficult a target and leave us be. Of course, I still keep my sword ready at all times. We’ll probably be working together now that you’re going after the Masks.”
Alias’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Lord Dhostar made me a job offer only an hour ago. How did you find out?”
“Picked it up on the street,” Olive said.
“Mistress Ruskettle!” the Thalavar shipping clerk called out.
“Just a minute, Drew,” she responded. “Look, I have to attend to some things. You can reach me at House Thalavar.”
Olive joined the Thalavar shipping clerk, and the pair escorted the customs inspector aboard the Thalavar ship.
Alias gave a mock shudder. “Olive as a respectable member of the community. The Time of Troubles was less confusing.”
“Aye,” Dragonbait agreed.
“So, what do you think?” Alias asked the paladin.
“About what?”
“Should we accept Dhostar’s offer?”
Dragonbait sighed. He ran his fingertips down the tattoo on her right arm, the tattoo that had first bound them together. “Alias, you must make this decision for yourself,” he said. “You have many reasons to remain. Although you did not really grow up here, Finder put it in your heart to feel it was home. You still need to try to discover why he choose Jamal’s face as that of your memory mother. Olive is here. You could sing together again. And, of course, I know you would thrive on challenging the Night Masks.”
Alias bit her lower lip and fought back a wave of sadness. Dragonbait had been her companion from the day she’d been created. He was more a father to her than Finder had been. “But you’re leaving Westgate, aren’t you?” she asked.
“I wish to return home to CopperBloom and my family. I don’t expect you to feel obligated to return with me, and I don’t want you to feel you cannot stay without me. You have many friends here already. I will stay with you for ten days, whether you choose to work for the croamarkh or not. But I will not work for him.”
“Because of Kimbel?” Alias asked.
“Kimbel is part of it, yes. More importantly, I don’t think the croamarkh is worthy of my services. I will serve you, though, as best I can, while I am still here.”
Alias sniffed the air about them. Dragonbait’s emotions had perfumed it heavily with the smell of lemons and roses. “You’re both happy and sad,” she laughed.
“Parents always feel that way when they kick their children out of the nest,” Dragonbait explained. “Dhostar’s son is returning.”
Brushing a tear from her eye, Alias turned about in time to see Victor running down the gangplank of the Dhostar ship. His momentum carried him nearly into Alias. He stopped inches away from her. He stood looking down at her for a moment before he stepped back with a flush on his face. Running his fingers through his hair to brush it off his face, he made an embarrassed apology for nearly running her down.
“I don’t fall down so easily, Lord Victor,” Alias replied with a grin. “Shall we continue our stroll? Dragonbait and I were both enjoying it.”
“Yes,” Victor replied. “We should make for the Harbor Tower. There’s a spectacular view of the city from the top.”
Alias nodded, and the three left the pier and set out for the lighthouse that marked the harbor entrance. Looking south, across the harbor, the city lay spread out before them, rising from the water to the high wall. Alias could not remember seeing any other city with so magnificent a view of itself as Westgate.
“So,” Victor began, “what can I tell you to convince you to join us in our fight against the Night Masks?”
“You should tell me the truth, whether it convinces me or not,” Alias replied. With an ever so slightly flirtatious grin, she asked, “If I accept this post, will you continue to be my liaison to the croamarkh?”
“Oh, yes,” Victor said. “I’ll be the man to handle any problems for you. Father would hardly delegate this matter to Kimbel.”
“Tell me about Kimbel,” Alias said.
“Um, well.” Victor flushed. “Kimbel is—not very nice.”
“That was our impression,” Alias said, not yet prepared to explain about the saurial paladin’s shen sight. “Tell me more about him.”
“When Kimbel first came to Westgate, he called himself an adventurer. He wasn’t the sort that kills monsters in their lairs, though. He was the sort that breaks into castles and tries to kill croamarkhs.”
“He tried to kill your father?” Alias asked with astonishment.
“Yes. Poisoned all the watchdogs and got as far as father’s bedroom door, but he got unlucky and tripped on a cat. He killed eight men before the rest of the guards managed to bring him down. He claims he was hired by the Night Masks, but he didn’t know enough about them to betray them. Father decided he was too useful to waste with an execution. We had a geas cast on him. He’s magically compelled to serve our family and constrained from harming anyone with Dhostar blood or in Dhostar employ. Father expects him to complete the terms of service due us by the eight men he killed, such terms to be served consecutively.”
Victor scooped up a handful of pebbles and began tossing them in the water. “It sounds awfully creepy, I know. It is awfully creepy. He can’t break the geas, but still, he’s a killer. And there’s nothing in the geas to protect people who aren’t part of our trading house. Who knows what he does when he’s out of sight? Father says Kimbel serves as a good warning to others, though I suspect Father also keeps him near to show people he’s not afraid of assassins. I wish he wouldn’t.” Victor tossed the rest of the stones in the water all at once.
Dragonbait had been right, Alias realized. Victor was like her. He defended the croamarkh just as she had once defended Finder, defying his reason to quell his heart. She knew exactly how Victor felt, and she found herself sympathizing with the young merchant despite her dislike of his father.
They came to the end of the peninsula, which ended in a knob-shaped quay of stonework. Beneath the harbor lighthouse, guards in Westgate’s insignia patrolled the flagstone plaza in rigid geometric formations. The lighthouse was an ancient, conical tower built of mortared stone with an external staircase spiraling up its side. Sailors called it the Westlight, and “seen the Westlight” was used throughout the Inner Sea nations to mean that a person had reached land or safety.