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The Marketplace 2

-Antagonist

Evil was a thing most sentient beings understood. At least, they thought they did. In theological circles, there were debates over it since there were good gods and evil gods, indifferent gods and mindless gods, gods of alien minds and gods whose minds were only an illusion. Some suggested there was an overbeing who was like a god above gods, but if there was then it was something no one had or could actually see.

But when you were evil... made from evil and with only evil intent... none of that mattered. You existed to do harm to the world. Sentient minds, who could make decisions based on their thoughts and feelings, inevitably slipped into either doing more good than evil, or the other way round, or staying so thoroughly out of things that they didn’t really count. But for Uruuktabael, evil was not a thing to choose. It was as real as breathing or eating.

Wrapped around the man’s arm, Uruuktabael whispered torments into his mind. He needed to appease his tormenter, Uruuktabael told him, or everything would get worse.

It had started so well. A classic story. The man picked up a piece of jewelry; shining brass with cat’s eye gemstones, a fancy thing made for nothing more than decoration and prestige. He put it on. But then it whispered to him; offered him things. Freely given at first, and with such generous benefits that his endeavors and pleasures would be successful.

Of course, after a time, the benefits lessened. No longer would the enchanted thing let him work long into the nights untired. No longer did his dice land as favorably as before. No longer did his touch elicit joy from strangers so they complied with his desires.

Now everything came at a price. He could have those wonders back, for a while, but the cuff upon his upper arm that hurt to try to take off, needed its price. That price grew each time, the boons lessened, and now it would make things worse if it were not appeased. It didn’t promise, it threatened. And the appeasements just kept getting more vile and depraved.

So he found himself slinking through stalls on some fruitless hunt, looking for something, all while Uruuktabael laughed in his head. It was pure torment for now; there was no real goal. Uruuktabael didn’t even have a goal in mind. It was just to see what the loser would do when he wasn’t given real instructions.

In reality, Uruuktabael was bored. Soon enough he would have to engineer the downfall of this host and move on. Start over. A soul claimed after a binge of gambling and intoxication suited him just fine. This one was becoming too corrupt, and that was just no fun anymore. Before this one he had gotten himself stolen, looted, murdered for, and even grave-robbed once.

That one had been annoying. Of course when you were immortal, waiting was just a part of the experience. Still, being underground with a moldering corpse, waiting for something with enough of a soul to bother to dig it up wasn’t a favorite memory. Maybe he could get this one into a fight, pump him up so he thinks he could win, and then betray him at the last minute. A new owner and one who had just killed someone to boot. That would surely be a better ride than the one he had now.

But then, the encounter. Demons knew power when they saw it, and this one was not someone to be tangled with. Even its little minion following just out of sight would punch far, far above its weight should he have the temerity to start trouble. This was an entity on the ‘just run away’ list, not just of a being like him, but for those great lords of darkness from the deepest pits. She had looked at his vehicle, but then directly at him as though she could see through clothing... which was doubtless a triviality for her. But then she had just gone. Departed in an instant without a trace.

This wasn’t fun anymore. It was time to leave.

Punishing, and then directing the rube to abandon the pointless pursuit and go down an alley, Uruuktabael only wanted to get a bit of proverbial breathing space. Unfortunately, there was something else down this alley. Scattering children flew past, but dropped something as they went. Worse, at the other end was someone who was anathema to corruption. One of the faithful, and one aligned to the betterment of people to make it even more revolting to him. Hide.

When the rube picked up the object, a jolt of foulness shot up his arm. He ran. There was no way he wanted to tangle with the interruptor, and right now he needed to be somewhere safe. He ran to an abandoned house, one of those fey-forsaken buildings where people just didn’t go. Ducking inside, he gasped for breath trying to calm down from the mad dash, eyes darting out looking for anyone who had followed.

When he had finally caught his breath again, he looked down at the thing in his hand. What it was, he couldn’t tell. It literally defied description. It wasn’t a shape, though it clearly fit in his hand. It was there, it had weight and it was... some sort of color, but he couldn’t decide which. It was fascinating. Captivating. He needed it. He needed to be with others who had one. They understood. Only they could understand.

Something gave an angry itch on his arm. It was distracting. He knew it had been bothering him a while now. Without looking he pulled it down his arm. It hurt, yes, but he was too distracted by the thing that gave him a group to belong to.

A vibrating clang sounded through the empty dusty room as the armband bounced like a stiff spring across the floor. It rolled to a spinning stop, though the rube didn’t even bother to watch.

That was better, he thought as he walked out from the abandoned house playing with the object and paying no attention to anything else. Off to meet the others. His group.

On the floor Uruuktabael screamed, but with no mouth there was no sound. With no host there was no movement. The fall and the rolling across the floor had left him terribly dizzy. The bastard had just... pulled him off! How did that happen?! What had just happened?!

Silent screams didn’t echo off the empty, dusty walls.

Brother Tindahl and Sister Aj

Aj pulled at her hair and groaned in frustration. She and Tindahl were huddled in an alcove currently stacked with sacks and crates. They had been looking for brother Argorat all morning with no hope at all. When they had seen him vanish right beside them, it had been as real as it could be.

Granted, they had all been under the influence. When you were a devotee of a god whose central sphere of influence was altering one’s mind to find hidden knowledge and experiences, that was to be expected. Still, nothing they had experienced before even came close to having someone vanish in front of a whole circle.

Argorat hadn’t had a home as such; none of them did really. They all sort of drifted from place to place, hanging out in the free-houses that the domestic fey kept or sleeping just outside of town or in the various parks throughout. They weren’t quite on the level of beggars, but quite a few beggars had joined their mental explorations. They shared space.

But people didn’t just vanish. Murders and accidents happened, people died, yes, but this wasn’t the same. There wasn’t even an attack. When magic was involved, things could get strange, but there hadn’t been that this time either.

The whole fellowship had split up and were searching all day, but to no avail. At least, they figured, the word was out and hopefully someone would see him.

Someone walked past them, and while they tried to get his attention, he ignored them entirely, focused on something cupped in his hands and seemingly oblivious to the world. Worse, they both noticed he was bleeding freely down one of his arms, it having been scraped raw down to his wrist.

Just as they settle back in, another figure rushes in coming the other way. So much bustle today. This one is a young girl, laden with bags tied up to her with an ungainly thick rope that was probably far too much for what she was carrying. She glanced at them as she passed and slowed to a jog and then to a trot. Her look was concerned, like she could see their distress written on their faces.

Unbelievably, she turned back to them. Whatever she had been running from, it wasn’t going to catch up.

“H-hey, um, hey,” Aj stammered, “ You alright?”

“Yeah,” said the girl, “But you two don’t look like you’re doing so good. I saw people like you in the market. You're looking for someone? That right?”

“His name is Argorat,” Tindahl said, “Satyr, brown hair, about my height, usually got crumbs and stuff in his beard, really into the mellow stuff... any chance you’ve seen him?”

The girl scratched her head a moment and looked at Aj and Tindahl with a surprisingly piercing gaze.

“So, the guy’s like one of your leaders who aren’t leaders, and he just disappeared without a trace?”

Tindahl did a double-take in surprise, “Did you... did you know him?”

“No, but I figured with what I saw earlier. You guys aren’t exactly subtle.”

“We’re freaked out by this,” Aj whined, “How does someone just disappear?!”

The girl scoffed. “There’s a lot of ways. There’s magic and creatures that can snatch people away in an instant. What were you doing when it happened?”

Suddenly, the girl seemed like she was being yanked by an unseen hand. She tried to ignore, but was jerked again. Making a gesture that said ‘just a moment’ she ducked back behind a crate. Whispering, clearly trying to be unheard but to the keen ears of a vanara, Aj and Tindahl could clearly make it out.

“What are you doing? Why are you talking to them?” hissed a raspy voice.

“You’ve got to show concern, I know people, and I might be able to help them,” came her reply.

“Why would that matter?”

“Because not everyone is a lonely creature like you. Community is always worth building. You never know when someone else might help you when you need it. So just shut up, hang out, and let me help.”

She pulled herself back up and tried a disarming chuckle.

“Uuuh, like, are you okay?” Aj asked, “You good?”

“Oh ya, no worries, but what about you? I can put the word out to people I know if I know the details. I’m Meeritza by the way.” said the girl.

Tindahl perked up, “oh, I know about you! You’re an anywhere kid!”

“A geezer,” Aj added, “you’ve probably run some stuff for us before too.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Meeritza said knowingly, “But yeah, I’ll get the word out. You were all hanging out, exploring your minds, and suddenly Argorat is gone. If I hear anything I’ll get the word to you. But now I have to run.”

Away she dashed, so suddenly that the ends of the strange rope she wore trailed behind her like ribbons. She hung a turn around the corner, so close she nearly scraped it. Then she was gone.

Aj and Tindahl felt cheered up. While they still worried for their friend, it was good to know someone had listened. It was an odd encounter, but when you ran in their circles, odd was quite acceptable.

“Hey, wait,” Aj said suddenly, a realization dropping in, “we didn’t tell her what we were doing when it happened. So how did she know?”

Tindahl shrugged. “She said we were pretty obvious. She probably just guessed.”

Enchanter

What a strange day. The marketplace had been unusually busy for nothing in particular going on. But sometimes it was simply like that. When one studied the intricate rules of arcane magics, one quickly learned to expect the little oddities of life. In a world nestled among countless others, with gods and reality altering powers there for the seeking, the very notion that things were knowable and that understanding was possible was almost laughably absurd.

Megoluvi had seen quite a lot of things in his long life, and yet somehow there was ever more ready to be seen. And what a fortunate day it had been, regardless. His bags were heavy with materials for his works, both expected as the shipments had come through, and unexpected in some interesting finds. His mind wandered through what miracles he would work onto mundane materials, rare though they be.

Tapping a stone upon a wall with the ring he kept on his left middle finger, the stone rippled in response. It was such a fun trick he couldn’t get enough of it. Stepping into the wall, the stone flowed over him and pulled him within. A moment of claustrophobic tightness, and the darkness before him parted to reveal his workshop.

A perfect little trick. And it worked from anywhere within the city. It was always best when magic was convenient.

Shuffling through his papers, Megoluvi set his schedule in his mind. Penning down a time table, he tried to wrangle elusive time into something that would balance his work with the annoyances of managing a business and meeting with clients. Being an enchanter was far more than actually enchanting things, much to his chagrin.

So many people wanted his help with the mundane, day-to-day things that it often consumed his whole month. Charms to keep shops clean, amulets for every number of things from tripping to weather, petty curses or interdictions, and of course wards for every sort of vermin. These things could be worked in a day and were hardly the real tests of his skill that demanded real time and resources.

How he wished he had a fortune, to work in isolation like some of the greatest enchanters of history. Working miracles, unbothered by petty mundanity, doing the real work for the sake of the work itself. Not just using magic for everyday things or to benefit society, but simply to see what the limits were.

Sighing to himself as he pushed aside the stack of notes and requests, Megoluvi stood and made his way out to his lobby, hoping to fetch a cup of tea and a snack before the day’s tedium.

An assassin was sitting in his lobby.

React. That was the only thing to do. Megoluvi threw himself back from the door, hoping to get as much between himself and his doom as possible. Who could have sent this one and why didn’t his contacts warn him?! He had paid for them and worked for them! Who even was this?!

He was halfway across his office in an instant, looking for anything he could use. Scrambling to a cabinet he fumbled at the lock as the assassin slipped silently into the room.

A panicked second allowed Megoluvi to wonder why he hadn’t been killed yet. Failing at the lock, he turned and backed against the cabinet. The assassin stood at the door, silent and immobile. It gave him pause. Something wasn’t right.

The assassin spread his arms, showing his empty hands. This assassin was completely swaddled, head to toe, with various bits of clothing, with only the eyes visible... and what was wrong with those eyes?!

The black eyes peeking out from thick wraps of cloth were wide and panicked. It was completely incongruous with the stance of the figure and the calm gestures. They were also rigid, not darting around the way one would expect.

“Who... what do you want?” Megoluvi asked with short hesitant breaths, “I’m paid up. I’ve done your people’s work...”

The assassin moved as though he were speaking calming words. The gestures were right. Even the cloth over the mouth moved as though he were speaking. No sound, however, came from the figure.

“W-what?”

Again, gestures and motion, but not a sound. The assassin stopped, everything except the eyes conveying surprise that no sound issued from his voice. The gesturing came forth signalling that the assassin also hadn’t expected not to be heard.

“Are you... are you cursed, sir? Do you need...”

The head nodded vigorously, the hands were pleading, and the eyes stayed exactly the same. For a moment Megoluvi wondered if they were even real.

“Yes, yes of course, have a seat and give me a moment. I will need some things to check.”

The assassin walked to Megoluvi’s own desk chair, sitting down surprisingly awkwardly for someone otherwise possessed of lethal grace. Without further delay, Megoluvi turned and unlocked his cabinet. A flask of the special wine, one of the ever-increasingly expensive pearls from the silk bag, owl quill feather, a scrying goblet, and the special monocle he had enchanted for himself all made their way onto his desk.

As he arranged things to get a better look, the assassin’s gaze tracked his every movement. A few incantations, some of the more simple and basic ones, called forth the magical auras to his sight. Something basically anyone could learn to do if they put their mind to it. With a gasp, he shrank back. The swaddled assassin glowed in a merging, swirling spectrum of auras that puzzled his eyes to identify. It was everything he could do not to look away and break his concentration. Holding his gaze on the migraine-inducing swirl, he began to pick out the myriad of enchantments that clung to the assassin's clothes.

It was unlike anything he had seen before. It shouldn’t have been possible. Everyone who knew anything knew that magical clothing, beyond the most basic of amulets or talismans, were tied to the positions upon which they were worn. Gloves went on hands, hats went on heads, that was how it worked. You couldn’t put pairs of gloves over other pairs of gloves and expect it to work... but here it was. Gloves, robes, hats, boots, bracers, and doubtless rings, amulets, trousers and who knows what else were here mixed together in ways that just couldn’t happen! It was a marvel!

Blind hands poured the win, crushed the pearl, mixed it all with the feather, and made ready to start piecing all this together. There were discoveries to be made! The quill scratched upon parchment, pulling the dweoms and thaums and erratae together to identify the tangled morass of it all. Worry and fear blossomed into excitement and the joy of discovery as it started to unravel. At the critical moment, Megoluvi fixed the monocle to his eye and activated the powerful divinations and charms he had worked into the golden rim and finely ground crystal.

The assassin’s gaze refocused. Looking him directly in the monocled eye. The terrified eyes now ambivalently looked with greed and longing. Megoluvi did not notice.

Obro leapt off of Erenthal and enwrapped the unsuspecting enchanter.

Luncheon

One of the advantages of living in a trade city was the variety. Clothing, foods, stories, all of it contributed a richness unmatched anywhere else. On one row stood stand after stand of vendors all selling their unique combinations. Simple like grilled meat and vegetables on sticks, to mixes of noodles with meat and vegetables fried in gigantic bowl-like pans, and every variation of meat and vegetables served upon or within breads.

On one end the stalls were much more expensive, with the rankings of the vendors reflected in their position. As one went down the row, meals became simpler and cheaper. Down at Laborer’s End, as it was commonly called, collections of things were quickly fried and handed out wrapped in greasy paper. Meat was rare, and that which was present was often unidentifiable, and grains filled the space between soft and soggy vegetables. Usually those things were of dubious quality to start with, but in such a cosmopolitan city, it was just as usual for the freshness to be less desirable to some species.

But if you knew the city, and Meeritza knew the city, you could quickly find the sections that were both good and affordable. Better if you had spent time getting to know the proprietors so as to guide newcomers to them. Even better, getting to know the children and apprentices, stoking their dreams and egos so they looked favorably on you. Because favors were a treasure of their own.

Sitting in the alcove, she closed the little curtain. This sort of place was unusual even in a city with all of the unusual things you could find across the world. With the huge variety of people types, however, some didn’t feel comfortable dining in the open. Some enterprising domestics had begun opening these alcove diners abutting the homes they managed, catering to all of the small ones who worked in the dark.

“Alright. You can get off me now. Everyone here keeps pretty private.” Meeritza said, shrugging her shoulders to encourage Yes to shuffle off. It felt almost like something was going wrong as the dragon slipped free and coiled upon the bench next to her. She nodded as Yes turned to regard her.

“It’s telling that you actually did that,” she said gently, “I think you’re starting to actually trust me.”

Yes looked up and glared at Meeritza, “Trust is nothing... You were simply... too warm. That’s it, too warm.”

“Sure, I believe you,” she replied dryly, “Say, can you read?”

“Read?”

“You know, signs and symbols. Letters, numbers, and things like that? I’m asking because they have a menu here and you have to know how to read to use it.”

“I... em...” Yes stammered, thrown off for a moment, “I mean... I have... servants to do that sort of thing for me. That’s right, if I need something read I find someone to do it for me.”

“For you are a mighty dragon?”

“Correct.”

“And nothing is beyond your power?”

“Of course”

“So powerful that you can’t read I suppose?”

Yes glared.

“Anyway. What do you want to eat? I like the grain bowls with meat and gravy, personally. They put onions and pepper in it. But there are a lot of other things too. And you need not worry, I’ll pay for it.”

Who could argue with that, Yes considered, “Very well. As my servant and lackey, I shall trust you to select an appropriate meal. Have it involve fruit.”

“We are going to have to teach you about how to talk to people in ways that don’t make them want to turn against you. See I think that’s your problem.”

“MY problem is that I was living a perfectly fine and normal dragon life just two days ago until you were able to see me! No one has ever been able to see the real me before! I have been happily amassing my hoard, taking from the lesser species, and reveling in my possessions while imagining the weeping giants whose treasures I plunder drenched in their losses... and then you come in and turn everything upside down with your stupid ‘more treasure’ and ‘ treasures within treasures’ talk. And what’s WORSE is I actually believed it! I swear I have never had a busier few days, and I never had a chance to really think about it.”

Yes stopped, panting, letting now jangled thoughts collect.

“Dragons aren’t supposed to BE like this! We are lone hunters, majestic predators, hoarders of great wealth, and we are to be praised and feared in equal measure for our might and prowess!”

Meeritza pursed her lips and pinched her chin as she thought for a minute, mulling over what Yes had just erupted with.

“This is what your nestor told you, isn’t it? The one who hatched you.”

“So?!” Yes snapped.

Meeritza put her hands up in a defensive gesture, “Calm down, I’m just trying to understand. But I think I see where this is going.”

“I don’t know why I haven’t escaped... or attacked you,” Yes groaned, hands covering suddenly sad eyes, “I... It just... I said to myself ‘that one is just going to find you again’... but I couldn’t make myself try to hurt you. And then you... ... you talked to me. Talked to me. No one ever talked to me before. Well, no one except other dragons.”

“Your nestor,” Meeritza interjected gently, “were there other dragons too?”

Yes sighed and drooped, “barely. And they all left the area. One dragon, a different type than me, well she didn’t want to stay around. She wanted to explore the world and be... more like you giants. Your styles and things are infectious. She even called herself “she” like your females do. It is beneath our dignity as dragons to ape you lesser species. She didn’t even want to build a hoard! She...”

“You liked her?” Meeritza guessed, “She was your friend?”

“I don’t think we dragons think like that. But, I do like to think so. She was the one who introduced me to pies.”

“Oh I see, that’s why you’re so crazy for fruit.”

“Cooked fruit and pastries. I don’t have words for how wonderful it is that you giants discovered how to do that. How nice it is to have a demipantheon of deities dedicated to your obsession with things that taste good.”

Meeritza thought for a bit while Yes slipped into silence. On the table under the menu was a slate and a bit of chalk meant for marking out what was to be ordered. She quickly marked down a spread that she thought would be agreeable for both. Meat, vegetables, sweet fruit pastries, and small beer to help wash it down. Then she set it in the basket just outside the curtain.

“Okay, I was going to let you have it on something, but I’m going to let it go,” Meeritza began, “and while I do have some questions still, I want to know if you have any questions for me?”

Yes was sitting very still, doing a rope pose, but with upper body flopped and splayed on the table. Meeritza could barely even see the rise and fall that confirmed the drawing of breath. Though she wished she could say more, she was trying to give the little dragon space. Still, she couldn't help but start fidgeting.

Suddenly Yes snapped up, looking at the curtain.

“Someone just took our menu!” Yes hissed.

“That’s supposed to happen. They will bring us our food now,” Meeritza reassured, “...and to be clear, those are their menus. They don’t belong to us even though they were given to us to use.” She shook her head, “I forget that this is your first actual time at a restaurant.”

“One does not... patronize such places. It is essential for one’s disguise.”

Meeritza was about to respond, but caught herself. She was determined to wait until Yes asked her a question. It was a test of her patience. She gestured, hoping to provoke Yes into saying something.

“I do have a question,” Yes said at last, “You changed your voice before. How do you do that?”

“Oh that’s just a trick. I just know how to change my voice to sound like other people...” she started.

“_ Like this ,” she said, changing her voice to a low rumbling bass, “like this! _or even like this” she said in a high squeaky voice, pitching it up to sound like a child calling from far away.

...she said, “I can even sound like I am over here.”

Yes jerked around to look at an empty section of the table where Meeritza’s voice came from. At the discovery of absence, a moment of slack-jawed disbelief followed.

“That still doesn’t explain how,” Yes said at last, “though that seems extremely useful.”

“Well, you have to be good at listening, and then it is just changing the tightness of your throat and chest, shaping the words in your mouth, and getting the accents right. Plus, it also helps knowing what people expect to hear when they hear things. That’s a big part of it. But it all starts with listening. I can even do your voice now.”

Yes’s eyes went wide.

“One has listened to the little dragon that looks like a frayed bit of rope sufficiently to learn their speech pattern and pomposity.”

Yes sputtered, “Okay, stop, that is downright unsettling.”

Meeritza smiled, “And let me guess, I sounded just like how you sound to yourself?”

“Exactly!”

“Because another trick you have to learn is that you sound different to other people than you sound to yourself. I just plug one ear and I can tell the difference. But a lot of people who mimic voices forget about that. It’s the easiest way to spot a faker.”

“But how did you ever learn to do that?” Yes demanded.

“I learned it at the workhouse when I was very young. It was a game at first. It made the other girls smile and laugh. Then it let me scare and skive and get away with things, but... well I wasn’t actually honest with it. I had a lot of near captures, close escapes, and in the end it felt like it was getting too close. I stopped using it for that and only do it for making people happy. It’s not worth getting my tongue cut out because someone knew I was impersonating a magistrate or something.”

Yes winced at that. It was surprising to Meeritza. For all the disdain and dismissiveness, this little dragon didn’t seem to be malicious or bloodthirsty. It was like violence was abhorrent.

“You people are so horrible to each other sometimes,” Yes muttered.

She couldn’t help it. Meeritza scoffed and said, “Oh and dragons aren’t? All the old stories of pillaging villages and capturing princesses and burning fields?”

Yes took a moment to absorb that.

“Well, we didn’t do that to each other. We left each other alone mostly. Dragon to dragon relationships are cordial... and distant. Very ‘what is mine, is mine’ and leaving us be. Territory is like that. You can’t have overlapping territory otherwise we might take something that rightfully belonged to another. You giants fight each other for any old reason and you cram yourselves together so no one has enough of anything, no proper territories, so you bicker and fight and do horrible things.”

A ringing sounded, followed by the sound of something wooden being set up outside the curtains.

“Food’s here,” Meeritza said casually. Yes flopped onto the booth seat, leaving her to take in the bowls and plates and mugs. The server asked no questions and walked briskly away.

“You’ve got to love the discretion here. They have the best service for secret types. Expensive, but today we can afford it.” Meeritza said happily, setting everything out.

Yes rose up at the sounds and smells of food. Meeritza took up a round loaf and tore it in half. Fragrant steam rose up from the fluffy interior. She took the bread and dipped it into her bowl of vegetables and gravy, pulling up glistening little chunks that stuck to it. A groan of delight as she took a bite.

Yes took a bite of the other half, savoring the warm and fluffy mass. It wasn’t cake, but it was good, starchy and hearty with the flavors of nuts and seeds blended in. Crawling up on the table, Yes took up the loaf and dipped it in the bowl. The next bite was transformative, savory and salty with a blend of flavors soaking into the sponge of the bread and mingling with its flavors.

It wasn’t Roonaga’s cooking, but it was still some of the best Yes had tasted. Savory and salty worked well with the vegetables in the broth, and no one vegetable flavor overpowered the others.

“Take a drink of this next,” Meeritza insisted, offering a simple glazed ceramic cup. Yes sipped, having to lean forward into the cup to get a drink. Without soft mammalian lips, cups were a challenge, but nothing impossible.”

“I see. It is transformative to drink with food in one’s mouth,” Yes said.

“Yep. There is a whole world of flavors out there, and it’s not just Roonaga saying it.

The pair ate and drank a while longer with few words, but as their bellies filled they found things to talk about. This time it was Meeritza who found her curiosity.

“So, okay, most people can’t tell what you really look like. I want to know more about it. But I also want to know what you can actually do. The flying and the rope tricks are the best for getting into places, but what is with the disguise?”

Yes considered a moment, and feigned consideration to take a few more mouthfuls.

“I just do it,” Yes admitted at last, “I don’t know why. My nestor did that too. I suppose I got it from my nestor like you giants get your hair and skin colors. But I know that I can look like a coil of rope and can manipulate ropes with my magic. It is innate, I suppose, as natural as flying. I just know most people are too ignorant to notice. Likely my magic does something to them too. But I also know that once people can see me, they can’t be tricked again for some time. Like they forget or something.”

Yes took another bite and drink to punctuate.

“And then there was you.I still cannot believe it, and I don’t understand it. And it was... yesterday! You can see me. You tracked me down! I cannot figure out how or why!”

Meeritza didn’t answer. It was frustrating. But then another thought occurred.

“Wait! This morning. With the triplets. You saw through them too when they did their illusions!”

Now it was Meeritza’s turn to be surprised.

“Oh that?” she said dismissively, “It is so obvious when they do that. Once you see it, you can see right through it. I noticed it the first time I met them.”

“I didn’t!,” Yes insisted, “I didn’t notice the illusion! I don’t think you can be tricked!”

“Really,” Meeritza scoffed, “Based on, what, two days and two separate times?”

“Very well then smart girl,” Yes said, knowing with draconic certainty the truth of this, “Have you ever been tricked by an illusion? Even once? I know I am right. You never have, have you?”

For the first time in a long time, Meeritza felt uncomfortable. She squirmed a bit in her seat as the dragon’s small but intense face locked eyes with her. Her mind, normally so sure and confident, raced trying to remember. It had never been something she... no... had she? They were all just... ...just so obvious. It was just that...

It couldn’t be that all the tricksters, all the street performers, were just bad? All of them?

Yes watched as for the first time Meeritza’s face showed a true emotion. Everything before had been an act, that much had been obvious, but this. She was completely flustered. But Yes had an idea.

“Okay, after lunch I think I want to try some things. You follow, I will lead.”