Dragon (S)Layers Ch. 13: Untitled

"Amber."

"No--"

"I didn't want to hurt you." Sarah forced herself to remain seated. "I tried," she murmured. She was already lying and she knew it. "I thought--" her voice died when she heard the door open.

Novik's plodding footsteps echoed through the entire home and before Sarah knew it, his bulk was occupying the door frame beside his wife. No one spoke as the larger man processed what he was seeing. During that time Sarah took a pull from her drink and slid her hand over the butt of her concealed pistol.

Before she'd finished, he spoke in a low, defeated tone. "Excuse us, would you?" After ushering his wife into the living room he looked to Sarah and let out a slow sigh. "I suppose I should say something like 'I didn't expect to see you,' shouldn't I?"

"That would be rather clichéd, I think." Sarah smiled over the rim of her glass, finished the rest and reached for the decanter. "Have a seat."

"That's expensive, you know--"

"Dear. After the night I've had, I'm willing to take it on faith that I'm due recompense. Would you like some?"

"No. . ."

After she finished filling the glass, she tucked the bottle down beside her in the chair. Let him wonder. "Where shall we begin, hm?"

"Well," the pallor man took a chair opposite her. "I think I have an idea--"

"I bet you do."

"I didn't have a choice, Sarah."

The alcohol burned, but not nearly as much as those words. Between the booze-fueled burst of courage and the anger roiling deep in her soul, she couldn't stop herself. "We all have choices, Novik. I trusted you--"

"No you didn't."

"I--"

"Then you're twice the fool, aren't you?" He spread his hands. "I'm in the business of information dealing. I like you, but it's just business--"

"How much was I worth?"

"You know I can't--"

Sarah clutched her glass tighter. "I have the entire rogues guild bearing down on me and all you're--"

"A lot," he slumped back. "A lot. Enough that I could retire. . ." Novik let the implication hang in the air like a blade. He was just looking out for his family. She couldn't fault him for that, could she?

She could, she decided. "You're going to throw our relationship out for a few coins? I'm disappointed. Sorely!"

"We never had a relationship, Sarah. You paid me to help you find people and hide, but it was just business. It was always business."

"You're a vulture, is that it? Circling car--"

"You're drunk."

"Hardly! I've seldom been as clear as I am now, but you, my delusional cohort have a great deal to learn about how this is going to work."

That got his attention. He righted himself and his hand started to drift towards the shadow between his leg and the cushion on which he sat. Sarah made her pistol visible, locking gazes with him. Slowly he pulled back. "What do you have in mind?"

"Now, that's more like it, isn't it?" Sarah leaned forward. "There's a man named Vestrin who's been looking for me. . ."

Novik offered a non-committal nod.

"Where does he live?"

"You know better--"

"Dear boy, believe what you like, but I'm trying to help you both. . ." Sarah dampened her lips with her tongue. The sweet kiss of butterscotch made it easier to smile, if only a little. "Consider this a friendly warning from someone with experience. Dragons don't pay their debts, they have their debtors killed."

Novik gripped the arms of the chair lightly. In his eyes was a flicker of doubt and even before he spoke the concern had become real. "What're you talking about?"

"I'm going to take a shot in the dark here. Feel free to stop me if I'm wrong," Sarah leaned forward and downed the rest of her drink. "It was a young woman with chestnut skin and pale eyes the color of fried peaches and wavy chocolate hair. She smelled like hazelnut and sage and spoke in a low rumbling purr, didn't she?"

"I. . ." He exhaled a nervous laugh. "You almost make it sound poetic."

"She claimed she was from the deep south, I suspect, though her accent was western?"

"Yeah."

"Then you need to leave." Sarah tried to get to her feet, instantly the world tiled slightly. "Immediately."

"That bad?"

"Had I the words to express it, I would happily do so. Suffice it to say, no matter how good you think you are with the chess board, you can't win this kind of game."

"You seemed to be doing okay. . ."

"I cheat."

"So I can see."

Sarah hefted her pistol up and leveled it at his face. "So, I'll ask again. Where can I find Vestrin?"

Novik looked down to the side. He didn't even flinch as Sarah cocked the striker arm back. With a low exhale he looked up and met her eyes. "I can't, Sarah."

"You can, you know you can."

"What if you're wrong--"

Sarah cut him off by jamming her pistol into his chest, stumbling into the chair so she was practically sitting on his lap. She broke the space between them with a whisper. "When the dragon kills your family you can wax morality and client privilege for the rest of your days."

He tensed.

"They. Do. Not. Pay their debts."

"I--"

"Tell me where Vestrin hides, then take your family and leave this city tonight. Do you understand?"

"B--"

"I won't ask again," she pressed the barrel into the larger man's sternum. "I'm trying to help you."

The large man leaned out of her personal space so he could meet her eyes. In that moment a hundred different emotions warred on his face, but finally he nodded. "All right. Do you know where Primrose is?"

*

Sarah found the place despite being half sloshed. Nestled between two other small buildings in a nondescript section of town, it was designed not to stand out and for the most part it did it's job perfectly; it looked like every other boring hole in the wall tenement on the block.

She knew looks were deceiving, though.

However, in the ten minutes she spent searching around for traps and alarms, the only thing she found was a barred rear door entrance and perfectly mundane trash piled up against the side of the building.

Curious, Sarah picked the lock on the door and let herself in. Even in the low light, navigating the dark home was easy-- a predictable layout and plenty of reflective glassware helped tremendously.

The place was boring, even inside. Though it was clean, meticulously so. The lifeless sketches of flora adorning the walls had been cleaned recently and even the stairs leading up to the second floor could have been eaten off of.

Sarah drew her flintlock and crept up the steps, managing by sheer force of will not to faceplant. Between the slats of the railing she caught a glimpse of the only room. Through the open door she saw a little boy.

She started to lower her gun until she saw the red streaks running like cracks from the corners of his mouth up into his hair. She stumbled half way up the steps and slammed down hard on her arm. "shit--"

"Dah?" The boy mewled.

Sarah bit deep into her tongue. No, don't you dare. "N- No, sweety."

You idiot.

"W- Who's there?"

After righting herself, Sarah tucked her pistol into her belt and reached for the silk gloves she'd balled up in her pockets. "My name's Sarah, sweetheart. What's yours?"

"Marik."

She edged up closer to the door, keeping an eye on the rest of the hall. "Are you alone, sweety?" When he didn't reply, she snuck into his room and knelt down in the shadow of the door's arc. "I won't hurt you, sweety. I was looking for your daddy--"

"He's not here."

"I see that. Do you know where he went?"

The boy's cracked and peeling lips tried to purse together over his yellowed teeth. The red cracks had started to form on what little of his chest Sarah could see and then she saw the pail beside his bed burbling quietly with blackened bile. "Oh, no. . ." she breathed.

"H--" Marik tried to talk only to cough up a wad of goo that ran from his lips like sap.

"Shh. Sweetheart. . ." Sarah's throat clenched tight. "Gods, doesn't he know you--" No. She couldn't say it in front of him. RedBlight did enough to its victims without the added stress of someone telling the victim they were done for.

A pang of guilt bit deep into her side. She should have told the city watch, she should have ignored it and moved on. You couldn't help those suffering with the Blight, you could only risk infection yourself.

And yet. . .

Sarah stood at the foot of Marik's bed, watching from some distant part of her mind as she touched his cool skin. The sheets were messy with bile and blood but looked recently changed and even being coated in sweat, he was trying to smile.

Her heart sank. She couldn't help him. No one could. "I'm sorry. . ."

"It's okay. . . Dah's going to get medicine."

"Is he?"

"Uh huh!"

"Good," she whispered and stroked his ankle. "Can I get you anything?"

Marik shook his head and hugged his pillow tight as Sarah continued to stroke his foot. It figured that the asshole had a sick child. Did he know that he couldn't help Marik? Did he have even the slightest idea?

"I need to go, sweety. . ."

"O- Okay. I'll tell Dah you wanted him!"

The pang in her stomach bit even deeper as she started to turn away, promising herself she couldn't help. She couldn't, there was no question. She couldn't. "No, no. It's all right, I'll tell him." She dared a glance back at the doomed boy as though it would somehow help.

She whispered his name as a prayer to whatever gods would hear it. Technically, she could have given him last rites, but what purpose did it serve when the Blight would destroy his soul anyway.

Sarah's clenched her teeth, plodding down the steps. Tacked to the door was a playing card. An ace of diamonds. If she had any doubt whether or not it was important, the words 'Hello Sarah' scrawled across the bottom of the card sealed it along with her fate.