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Something slightly pointy made a spirited attempt to wiggle inside Zorru's nostril. He dragged himself out of sleep long enough to snort. A snuffle of hot breath passed over his horns, something firm and a bit damp nuzzled the top of his head and it wasn't until it got a firm grip on his hair that he finally cracked open a gummy eye.
"Hay?" he mumbled. A shadow loomed over him, blotting out the suns.
Suns. Right, he was back in Elturel, city of two suns. The one everyone else had, and the Companion.
"Mbeeeegh," the shadow intoned.
"No," someone whined.
"Mbeeegh?"
Quite intelligently, Zorru said, "What?"
After two tries, he managed to get upright. A purplish tail disappeared into the hay on his right. Yul, probably. Zorru poked it.
"No," Yul whined again.
"Shut it," came another voice from the left. Some rustling, then a hand broke out of the hay and felt around. The sheep gave it a hopeful lick, and its owner yanked it back.
"Zorru..?" the hay said. "Was that you? Or Yul? Or another party? I don't know which answer is worse."
"Wasn't me," Zorru said.
The hay shuffled, revealing a tiefling clutching a bottle of wine like it would save her. She eyed the sheep.
"Oh, gods," Xoanne said. "Livestock. Where are we?"
"How much did we drink?" Zorru mumbled. "My head."
"I remember…we were at…"
"Treat Yourself." A pub in near the east market. Bit of a dive, but people didn't gawk there, and the drinks were strong. The kind of place you would take a friend who just got back in town, so obviously that's what Yul insisted they do the moment Zorru dropped off his luggage. Wear your braids and tassels, we might get free drinks!
Zorru had. Free drinks was the least the world could give him, after all the shite he went through.
The sheep, seemingly a mind reader, took a bite out of his tassels. He let it have them.
"Oh no," Yul said, finally making it upright. "Oh no no no, oh…no. Oh no!"
"Should we check if he knows any other words?" Zorru mumbled.
"Xoanne, do you have it?"
"Have what?" Xoanne asked, failing to pull the cork out of her wine.
"My bag!"
"Can't even keep track of my own bag, what makes you think I have yours?"
"Zorru? Please, mate, no jokes."
The perfect response to no jokes was more jokes, but something in Yul's voice gave him pause. Zorru felt in the hay and said, "No."
Yul screamed a little.
"Gods, what's the problem?"
"The ring! The ring was in my bag!"
A trickle of memory wet the dry wrinkles of Zorru's brain. Yul, proudly holding out an ornate box, and in it, a Companion Ring. I'm going to do it, he'd grinned. I'm going to ask her.
The ring wasn't one of the gimmicky ones sold to tourists and kids, either, with a persnickety spell that summoned a dim mote of light and stopped working in a few weeks. No, Yul had sprung for a real one. Months of wages in that little box, a spell that would last centuries, its light the same promise as their second sun: to always stay by someone's side. So sweet.
Obviously Zorru and Xoanne had mocked Yul ceaselessly, buying him drinks the entire time to let him know it came from love.
"Where did you last see it?" Xoanne was asking.
"I don't know. I don't know!"
"Quit panicking. Did you have it at Treat Yourself?"
Yul nodded.
"Right. Where'd we go after?"
"Viago's. But I had it, there. Then we went to…"
They thought. Thought long and hard, although they were so hungover it was probably not a whole lot of thinking. Xoanne tugged uselessly on the cork of her wine, then offered it to Yul, who declined his services.
"I got nothing," Xoanne said.
Yul sighed. "Guess I can sell my horns to get another. Heard there's a wizard who pays loads for horns."
"No offense, Yul, but your horns aren't worth that much." Xoanne clapped Zorru on the shoulder. "We'll find it. Got an Academy trained tracker with us, don't we?"
"Yes. Yes!" Zorru stammered.
"Even hungover, bet he can find it!"
"Aye." He snatched the bottle, in sudden need of confidence. No luck; the cork was jammed tight. Gods, time to do what everyone said he was good at.
Zorru glanced around. Yellow fields of rapeseed covered the hills to their right, the city walls to the left. They were in some kind of small…barn, a short enough walk from the city. Probably trying to get to Baker's Bridge, where they used to sit and talk until the big sun came up. Which meant they came from the east markets, or from the tiefling district.
He checked his pockets, found a map scribbled on a scrap of paper. No coordinates. He turned it one way, then the other, then gave up. Checked his bag, then in a fit of inspiration, his boots. A red stone was jammed in the leather. A prickly feeling danced across the back of his neck. This was important. A Clue.
Xoanne's bottle said, "Ne'er Speak Ill of the Dead, 'lest they Speak Ill of Thee." One of those trendy blends where the name took longer to say than the bottle to finish. Like the kind served at—
"Honest Mistakes!" Zorru exclaimed. "We start there."
Honest Mistakes's yard had been re-graveled in squares of red and black, and Zorru narrowed down the table they'd sat at to the only one with red rocks underneath. Yul tried the gate, nodding when it swung open, and they took up their seats: Yul in the middle, Zorru facing the railing, Xoanne under the overhang. A quick look around yielded no bag.
"Right. So we came here. Then what?" Yul said.
"Likely closed down the place," Xoanne said. "They close early."
Zorru closed his eyes, and nodded. "Something's coming back to me. We came here because we were celebrating. Not me, not Yul—Xoanne. But what?"
She grinned. "New job, mate. New job, new move."
"Where?" Yul said.
"Baldur's Gate. Some noble bought a new palace or something, needs someone with my skills to check for any secrets."
"Give me that bottle, we have to celebrate!"
"We already did. Got the headache to prove it." Xoanne passed the bottle, anyway, and Yul popped it open. "You two can come, you know. Well, not Zorru, you're busy and a bit useless in this instance—but Yul. It would be fun. You'd be suited for it, I'm sure she doesn't have all the keys to every door."
"Xoanne, surely you'll survive without me? It's only a few weeks."
"She might not. Too reliant now. Can't even open a bottle of wine," Zorru said.
Xoanne snorted. "I'll find someone else to open my wine."
Yul slammed his hand against his chest. "You would replace us? That easily?"
"Aye. In a heartbeat."
"And what about you, Zorru? Already have two new best friends at the Academy?"
Smooth as warm wine he lied, "I have dozens."
"Oof. Well, I suppose I won't pity you two anymore for your chronic bachelorhoods."
"Pity yourself. Look at this poor idiot, in love."
"Disgusting," Xoanne agreed, futzing with the ashtray.
"Absolutely vile."
"A true deviant."
With a goofy smile, Yul dropped the drama. "Look at us. The three of us, finally making something of ourselves."
"By breaking into a pub and drinking warm wine on the patio," Zorru said.
"After we lost an engagement ring," Xoanne pointed out.
"Big picture. Think of the Big Picture. What I'm saying is our dreams are finally doing what dreams do: come true."
"The big picture is your future fiance deserves that ring. She's already stooping low, courting you. Maybe if we each sold a horn we could buy a new one…" Xoanne picked up a matchbook and flipped it open. Blinked, then passed it to Zorru. "This looks like one of yours."
Inside, among all the fresh matches, one was burnt but still attached. Another memory welled up from the dredges of his hangover. A bard performing in the corner, her kid sitting with her legs through the fence, bored enough to throw rocks. Couldn't have that.
Slowly, he folded down the burnt match, hiding it behind his thumb. He held the book up the Yul like he'd held it up to the kid, ripped out a match, lit it on his thumb and said, "Make a wish."
Xoanne rolled her eyes, but Yul thought for a second and blew.
After that, a simple trick. Flip the book over to close it, letting him fold the burnt match back in place, then palm the wish match and fake throwing it back into the book.
A little slight of hand, nothing really magical, but the kid had been impressed. Yul was impressed. He said, "You're going to be a great uncle one day."
"Oh, no. Thinking about kids, already?" Xoanne said.
"I want to do it before I'm too old to beat 'em at Goblinball."
Xoanne laughed and said, "Goblin these—"
"Damnation. Walked into that one."
"Shh," Zorru mumbled, holding up the book. Across the back, a stamped logo said, Greater Goods Brewing. "I know where we went after this."
None of the three of them was ugly, but Xoanne had one eye half in standard tiefling orange, then the light cut to a clear, eerie teal that bled to the other eye, like water through ocean waves, and that got people's attention. She had thirty odd stories about how she got the color but only Yul and Zorru knew the truth. They'd been there, after all.
Usually Yul and Zorru would deploy her for discounted drinks. Now, they deployed her on the sullen face of Greater Goods' barkeep, woken far too early.
"—just take a peek around for it," she was saying.
"Ain't no one turned one in," the keep said.
"Right, well—"
"Ask if we can check the loo," Yul whispered.
"Can we check the loo?"
"Come back when we're open," the keep grumbled.
To Yul, Xoanne said, "She says come back when they're open."
"Just a real quick look?"
Dutifully, Xoanne said, "Just a quick—"
"Mate. I can hear your friend. Answer's no."
Yul whispered, "Try saying please."
The keep slammed the door.
Xoanne had the eyes, Zorru had the prickles, and Yul had the touch. Xoanne kept a lookout while Yul opened a window, the latches inside loosening under his gentle pressure. A wave of stench sent their eyes streaming. Greater Goods, where so long as you got the piss in same room as the toilet, no one really complained.
Zorru dropped down behind Yul, boots splashing something all over Yul's ankles. Yul gagged.
"Keep it together," Zorru whispered.
"Sorry. Not really trained in this."
"You think they train us to sneak into loos in the Academy?"
"I think—" Yul gagged again. "Oh, gods, it smells like goldsponge and curry."
"I could go for a curry," Xoanne called, her appetite safely protected by fresh air. "Goldsponge, what is that, dwarven? Mm, they do those little fried mushroom balls."
Yul swallowed queasily.
With his tail, Zorru lifted up a soggy coat, and underneath, Yul's bag. "Oi. You got robbed. Look, strap's been cut."
Yul reached for it, and Zorru stopped him.
"Think this is the smell. Looks like someone threw up in it."
Yul dumped the mess on the floor. "I don't see the ringbox. Or the ring. Coinbag's missing, too. I bet whoever robbed me emptied it before they did this."
"Sorry, mate."
"Sorry? This is lucky! Never been so happy to be robbed in my life. Now all we need to do is figure out where this arsehole went!"
Zorru held up his hands. "I'm good, but I'm not that good."
"No. Not where they went." Yul sniffed. "Goldsponge curry. And…is that lýth'bél?"
"Really can't believe you're willingly smelling this place."
"Believe it, 'cause I think I know where they came from."
Despite curry being about the best food in the world, everyone stayed clear of Curry Scurry. Sometimes a tourist ended up there, and if they made it past the fact that every table was covered in junk or seated the least friendly looking dwarves in the world, if they got past the roach-sized shadows darting at the edge of vision, or how the air was weirdly oily, or the lack of menu or the chef's scowl, they'd certainly give up after gagging on the chef's beard hair, which seemed to find its way into every dish.
Was the only place in town that did a lýth'bél chutney, though, so they went there.
Xoanne, of course, ordered lunch. Most of what she wanted they were out of, but that didn't stop her from finding something. Zorru couldn't look away from that tangle of a beard. He was pretty sure something stared back out at them.
"We're looking for someone," Yul said to the chef. "Someone who might've swiped my ring."
Chef didn't say anything.
"Pretty sure they came here."
Chef didn't do anything.
"You know anyone who's in that kind of business?"
No answer.
"Right. Saer, we'd rather resolve this quietly. Don't want to go to the guard, ha, ha."
The chef picked up a knife.
"N-not that we would!" Zorru said.
Chef cut cleanly through a hunk of meat, about the size of Zorru's tail, bone and all.
"Right. No guards. We'll just be going!"
Xoanne protested, of course, took her food even after chef spit a loogie into the cook fire while the pot was still on it, then led them behind a big stack of ancient dishes. She pointed to an empty wall and whispered, "I see a door."
No matter how Zorru looked at it, no door appeared, but just like they trusted his prickles they trusted her eyes. With her guidance, Yul tried the handle.
A long, dank ally stretched before them. Footprints filled the mud, which had hardened to a fragile dirt that would've crumbled if anyone had come through lately. That and the prickles confirmed it.
"It's clear," Zorru said. "No one's here."
Slowly, as one, they crept down, ears straining. Yul tried the next door—no luck. Zorru stopped him from touching the one after, something told him opening it was a bad idea, but the third revealed a storage room. A room with an awful lot of weapons and jewelry for a curry shop.
"They're running a front!" Yul whispered.
"Knew they had to be staying open somehow," Xoanne said. "Bet the thief fenced the ring here. Fan out, lets find it."
Zorru scanned the room, eyes coming to rest on a workbench covered with lenses and other tools that made him think jeweler. And there, on the corner, the box!
"Amazing! You're amazing!" Yul exclaimed. Then he opened it. "Empty! Zorru, you bunged it up."
Zorru smacked his tail. "Let me take a look." A strange, sparkling dust smudged the outside in several spots, nearly like fingerprints. Smelled familiar.
A door slammed in the distance. His pickles prickled so hard his hair stood on end. "We gotta go."
"This way," Xoanne said. "Saw another door—give me a hand, it's barred."
Unbarring an invisible door while prickles needled all down your back proved hard, especially when the people helping were as strong as a scribe and a miller who mostly did desk work. Zorru took a breath, straining hard when Xoanne lost her grip. Behind them, at the door they came through, a key hit the latch. Zorru bit back a grunt as Yul dropped his side and tapped the knob, unlocking it right as the key turned.
With a click, it relatched.
Zorru and Xoanne hefted the bolt aside and got the door open.
"Split up!" Yul called. "Meet west of here, first pub we find."
"That fails, the fallback!" Xoanne called back.
The Zorru sprinted into another ally, Xoanne on his tail, then into a square, turning right, then down another ally, going and going until they ended up wheezing outside of Oak and Dagger.
"Might as well get a drink while we wait," Xoanne said.
Two beers in, someone shouted, "Hey!" Xoanne bolted, but Zorru found himself cornered by two burly looking dwarves. One gave him the up and down, her teeth capped in sharp platinum.
"Can I help you?" he stammered.
"Which way to Little Hells?"
Little—oh, the tiefling district. Zorru pointed.
Xoanne was long gone. No sign of Yul. Zorru paid the tab and headed south, to the fallback, hands in his pockets.
Both the sun and the Companion had sunk behind the high walls of Little Hell's apartments by the time he reached the long forgotten courtyard. Ancient grapevines grew over the fence, so thick they'd basically replaced it. On one rotten post was scratched, "W— + Xoanne + Yul + Zorru "
The first name, the W, had rotted away with time.
They'd found the courtyard completely by accident, Yul running in during a game of tag and promptly declaring the well a wishing well. Over the years they'd chucked a wild amount of stuff into it, and one of their wishes must've come true, because one had eyes that saw true, one had fingers that could open most thing and one got prickles that were never wrong.
Which wish, though? Which one had done it? Certainly not the one where they would never grow up. And not, Zorru suspected, the one where they would stay friends forever.
Courtyard seemed a lot smaller, now.
Through the leaves, Xoanne said, "One of us goes to find him, the other stays."
Then Yul. "He'll be here. He's more likely to find us than us finding him."
"But what if he's hurt? What if those dwarves stabbed him!"
"You said he was at Oak and Dagger. They're not going to let him die. Too uptown."
"But—"
"Zorru's got his life together." The earnestness in Yul's voice made Zorru cringe. "Just…give him another 20."
"Ten more minutes. Then I'm going. Everyone needs help sometimes."
Gods, he couldn't take how embarrassing this was. Zorru ducked through the vines. "My heroes! So glad you would abandon me for only one hour."
"Aw, we knew you'd make it!" Xoanne said, grinning.
"Believed in you completely!" Yul confirmed. "Except, I said west! Oak and Dagger is east. Why the hells did you go there?"
"I was just following Zorru!" Xoanne said.
"I'm not used to two suns," Zorru said.
"Bull."
"But I know where that dust is from. Little Hells! It's from Hellion's."
A huge NOW HIRING DANCERS sign filled Hellion's front window. Glad to know Hellion's would always have his back. They employed any tieflings who were alright with wearing very little clothing and large, fake wings, shaking their tails on stage, and generally being very devilish.
"We were doing the hell walk!" Xoanne said. Treat Yourself, Viago's (where what happened at Viago's stayed at Viago's), Honest Mistakes, Greater Goods…well. The saying was a saying for a reason: the road to Hellion's was lined with good intentions. "Gods, we're so typical."
"A Companion ring?" the host said, examining the box. Her wings looked uncomfortable. "Saw a dwarf come in with a load of flowers, asking about Cinder's set."
Yul said, "What time do they start?"
"In five—saer, there's a cover fee!"
Xoanne threw some coin at the host as they dashed after Yul, chasing him to the main stage. Cinder strutted down the middle, spinning fire as she went, and right as she got front and center a dwarf stood up. Held up a hand, offering a ring.
Yul raised a fist, and Xoanne caught him—lucky, his probably-future-fiance certainly wouldn't be happy if she heard he punched out a dwarf at a dance hall—then Zorru ran into them both, climbing over them and onto the stage, hip bumping Cinder to the side. Lights shown down, the heat dizzying. Everyone stared. The dwarf stared, ring still raised. Zorru threw up his hands and exclaimed, "Oh, sweetheart! For me?"
The dwarf stammered, but Zorru snatched it up, slipping it onto his thumb and exclaiming, "Yes! I do!"
Cinder clapped.
The dwarf pulled a crossbow.
Everything went slow. This was it. Home from Academy, stealing proposals from dancers, sending the rumor mill into a flurry and now Zorru was about to get shot.
Xoanne yanked the dwarf's arm up, and Yul shouted, "Shine like my love!" The ring flashed pure sunlight, a bolt dinged off Zorru's horn, then there was shouting and scuffling, the whole world filled with afterflash.
Yul buffed the ring. Buffed it again.
"You can stop," Xoanne said, delivering drinks.
"Can't. It's got Zorru germs all on the inside."
"Not my fault it's big enough to fit my fingers," Zorru said.
"You've got twig fingers!"
"They're lovely, dainty fingers," Xoanne said.
"You're both jealous. Shine like my love? That's the phrase you chose to activate it?"
"Didn't pick it for you," Yul said.
"It's a nice phrase!" Xoanne said.
Yul held up his ring and deemed it fit to wear. The ring, back in his hand, his future secured. Marrying a nice girl from the uptown, one with a nice family that liked him, and big fingers.
Must be nice to have someone to share jewelry with.
Zorru took a deep drink, all the adrenaline of the day wearing off, leaving him in the pits. He had to have told them, right? At some point last night? Told them, and then they drank until they forgot. If only all of life could be solved like that.
"That wrapped up nicely," Xoanne grinned. "Just in time to get Zorru another round of drinks, then back on the wagon to the Academy."
"Yeah. About that," Zorru said. "I'm staying a bit longer."
"End of the quarter already?" Yul said.
"No. I'm not really a current member of the Academy. More an…ex-member."
Xoanne coughed into her beer. "What happened?"
"Discharged," he said, airily.
"No, mate. You?" Yul said, voice thick with disbelief.
"What really happened?" Xoanne asked. "You worked too hard to get kicked out."
He had. Worked damn hard. All the running, all the noticing, all the sucking up, all to piss off some patriar prick. One little incident, that's what the Academy called it, one incident and here he was. Dishonorably insubordinate.
The way they were looking at him. Like he was pitiable. He wanted to sink under the table. He was supposed to be the leader, the first one out. Yul, Zorru and Xoanne, all trash born with nothing, each finding their own way. That was the pact, right? And once one got out, they would pull the others up, eventually. Nothing would come between them, and yet, here they were. Yul, promising his heart and future to someone better than them. Xoanne, going to help rich people find hidden rooms and lighter wallets. Zorru, still here. The only one who didn't climb out of the muck. He didn't see much of a way to fit into either of their paths.
Don't leave me, he wanted to say.
But that wasn't how it worked. You got out. Get secure footing. Then you turn back from the others. If you did it too late…? Well, at least one of you got out.
Dreams fade.
"Hey. That place? That 'Academy'?" Yul said, holding his fingers up for the quotes. "They're rubbish."
"Rubbish!" Xoanne declared, holding up her pint.
"They don't want you? They're stupid."
"Stupid!"
"Dead to us."
"Dead to us!"
"And you're better off without them!"
"Here, here!"
"I'm unemployed. Broke. I owe them a lot of money," Zorru said. "Don't even have an apartment here. My old man's not going to let me stay, not once he finds out."
"Lucky for you, I'm about to get a big payday," Xoanne said. "Come with me. I'll say you're my assistant."
"Or help us plan the wedding. She's going to want blue roses. I don't know where the hell to find blue roses! You can find anything!"
"I can find lots of things." He took another sip. "Right. Well, clearly you two need me. Lucky I got expelled, aren't you?"