Runaway Gods

[Tristan]

“This must be your lucky day.” My brother glanced at the pub door. “There’s a gang of adventurers coming in right now. Don’t turn around.”

I turned around right away, obviously, and there they were. Big, muscular, black leather clothes under black cloaks, huge revolvers in thigh holsters. Three men and a woman. They entered the Shamrock Inn quick and wary, followed by two hooded figures.

Everybody in the pub pretended elaborately to be paying them scant attention, but that was all right. The Shamrock Inn regulars were the toughest among Tarasque tough guys and keeping their eyes on their beers whenever some hard-boiled stranger popped up was just part of the local tradition.

I turned quickly back to my brother. “Guess you’re right.”

Gabriel grinned. “I told you this is a special night.”

I risked another sideways look at the newcomers. The biggest and scariest one, probably the boss, was scanning the pub, taking in the worn wooden tables, the rows of bottles behind the counter, the waiters and waitresses going back and forth with three or four mugs of beer in each hand.

Gabriel was right, that was a special night. And not just because it was the feast of Karolina the Wise.

News about the fall of Manticore Library had reached Tarasque earlier in the evening. Only two weeks ago, swashbucklers, soldiers of fortune and scoundrels of all kinds from hundreds of miles around had swarmed into town in the hope of getting hired either by the Awakening League for the siege of the Library, or by the United Kingdom for its defense. The rigidly neutral city-state of Tarasque was the place to be if you wanted to join in the action, due to its proximity to three Faraway Bridges, but this time the League had hit so hard and so fast that the recruiters for both sides hadn’t even bothered to show up. The disappointed swashbucklers had then fallen back to crowding the pubs, waiting for new opportunities.

Now all four of the newcomers were scanning the pub. Time to make my move. I just needed to work up the nerve to offer my services as a grunt in their next adventure without making them burst out laughing and kick me out of the pub.

The gang leader looked at my brother, then at me, and nodded.

I frowned.

As one of the adventurers peeled off the group to usher the two hooded figures to the counter, the others marched straight to the table my brother and I were sitting at. I noticed that the black leather clothes they were wearing under the cloaks were actually Faraway Bridge transit suits. I could make out the lattice of tubes of the cooling circuit and the stiff patches of anti-radiation mesh.

“Guess we won’t have to find an opening line this time,” Gabriel whispered as they lined up at the end of the table.

“Sir,” the gang leader said, looking my brother in the eyes. “Mind if we sit down?”

That’s the effect Gabriel has on people. Handsome, athletic, jet-black eyes, he commands respect with natural ease. His neatly pressed King’s Envoy Corps uniform is just overkill.

“Be my guests,” Gabriel said urbanely. I tried to stand up to greet them, bumped my thighs against the table and fell back onto the bench. Gabriel managed not to roll his eyes. I thanked him silently for it. “What can I do for you?”

The adventurers sat down. Gabriel hadn’t bothered asking if they were on the Kingdom’s side, because that went without saying. The Shamrock Inn had a reputation for being a hangout for Kingdom supporters. No Awakening League henchman in their right mind would have shown up here.

The adventurer lady raised her hand and showed four fingers to a waiter. A few seconds later, four mugs of dark ale landed on the table.

One was for Gabriel, of course.

Nobody had bothered to ask me if I wanted anything, obviously

I took a defiant swig from my glass of room-temperature still water.

“Actually, we’re here for him,” the gang leader said after a sip of beer, nodding at me.

I choked on my water and began to cough. The adventurers exchanged a quick look, raising their eyebrows.

The one beside me patted me patiently on the back.

“Are you sure?” I finally managed to wheeze.

“Yeah. We asked your landlord who was the most harmless loser in town looking to make a quick buck.” He shrugged. “He said we could find him here with the King’s Envoy.”

“Did you ask the grim-faced guy in front of the hostel in Shangdu Avenue?” I asked. He nodded. “Actually, that was my dad. Not that he likes to shout it from the rooftops.”

It was the gang leader’s turn to choke on his drink.

“We don’t judge,” the adventurer lady said, deadpan. “Anyway, we have a job for you, if you want it.”

I did my best impression of a seasoned professional. Nobody laughed. For the time being, at least. “I’m listening.”

“We need you to babysit someone for a night.”

Silence.

Apparently, they were expecting me to say something.

I cleared my throat. “And?”

“And nothing. We only need you to look after a girl until morning as we sort out a couple of things. You keep that girl undercover and out of trouble, we’ll pay you handsomely. Easy as that.”

“If I may intrude…” Gabriel said.

“Of course,” the gang leader nodded.

“My brother’s dream is joining the King’s Envoy Corps. I’m sure you’re familiar with the selection process for the Corps.”

Blank stares.

Gabriel nodded conspiratorially and sipped his beer. “Let me refresh your memory. You have to perform a heroic deed. For me, it was saving an ambassador’s daughter ambushed by marauders. That was my admission ticket to the Envoy Corps Academy. My brother Tristan is trying to join a group of adventurers to get his chance, but nobody has accepted him so far.”

The gang leader frowned. “I’m not sure babysitting a girl for a night qualifies as a heroic deed.”

The adventurer lady elbowed him in the ribs.

A light went off in his head. He snapped his fingers. “I mean of course it does, sir. Of course. You do that, kid, and… um…” A questioning look at Gabriel.

Gabriel nodded encouragingly. “You write a letter of reference to the Admission Committee.”

The gang leader slammed his fist on the table, spilling some beer from the mugs. “Sir, you took the words right out of my mouth. I’ll write the best letter of reference you’ll ever read. You’ll have the Academy Admission Committee eating out of your hand.”

I realized I had been holding my breath and was beginning to feel dizzy.

“We’ll just have to use our imagination for a thing or two,” the adventurer lady said, smiling brightly.

“Imagination is my middle name,” the gang leader declared.