“Wow,” Sticky breathed. The small demon’s neck craned back as she stared up at the crisscrossing rows of dim paper lanterns suspended over the street before them. They dangled from worn ropes, thin enough to be almost entirely swallowed by the night overhead.
The lanterns bobbed and danced in a faint breeze, the flas within them crackling rrily as a welco wind coiled through the crowds milling beneath them. rry laughter and excited conversations ca from every direction as a dozen different tantalizing scents coiled through the air.
People danced to the sound of booming drums that rolled throughout the town in lodious thunder. Couples new and old, families — everyone celebrated. Not a single person was alone.
Aylin’s lips twitched in the faintest of smiles. This was the kind of scene that never would have been possible within the Damned Plains. There was no fear in the air. Nobody was running through the crowd and challenging everyone they saw to a fight to the death.
It was… warm. Comforting. Almost like the embrace of a mother. At least, Aylin got the feeling that was what such a thing would have felt like. He wished — almost more than anything — that Violet and Edda and Torrick were here. They’d have loved this.
“Isn’t it incredible?” Sticky whispered. She poked her head out of the alley they stood in, inching toward the milling crowd but stopping herself before she could fully erge from the shadows and into the dancing light of the lanterns.
“Yes,” Aylin said. He put a hand on Sticky’s shoulder. “It is unique to as well. A night like this should be rembered. But it is just the first of many. Obsidia holds all this and more for us.”
“I never want to go back to the Damned Plains,” Sticky said. She swallowed. “I want to go out there.”
Aylin’s lips twitched slightly. It was a beautiful night. There was no denying that. Even he felt the call of the festivities. This city, Redmont, certainly knew how to throw a festival. The celebrations stretched all throughout its streets — and it was no small town.
He wasn’t entirely sure what had actually caused the celebration. At so point in the night, Aylin planned to find out. It would be a sha to leave knowledge behind. But they hadn’t co here purely to relax.
“It is nice,” a third voice said, their words almost wistful.
Aylin glanced back as Vrith stepped partially out of the shadows. There was sothing a little odd in her eyes. If he hadn’t known better, Aylin might have said it was longing. But that couldn’t have been right. Vrith most certainly was not the kind of demon that wanted to go to a festival.
“Can we?” Sticky whispered, unable to pull her eyes away from a wagon selling giant, honey-soaked bird legs that had been cooked to perfection. “Just for a little?”
Aylin pressed his lips together. There was a logical answer to her question. Participating in the festival would be a delay. They had a task. A ti-limited one at that. It wasn’t exactly safe, either.
Demons might not have been seen as the enormous threat in Obsidia that they were in Arbalest, but that didn’t an they’d be welco. They were just one of many other threats that existed within Obsidia. Drawing attention to themselves wouldn’t be wise.
Especially not with their current task.
A couple walked by the front of their alley, caught in an avid conversation swallowed by the din of the crowd. They had one of the bird legs that Sticky had been eyeing clasped between their held hands.
There was a faint, strangled wheeze. It ended in a wet splatter. Aylin’s eyes flicked down as a man crumpled to the ground at Vrith’s feet. His throat was crushed like a crumpled piece of paper.
A flicker of surprise passed through Aylin. Vrith tended to prefer killing with her claws. For her to have crushed the man’s throat was a considerable extra amount of effort. Sothing had her on edge.
“Is sothing wrong?” Aylin asked.
“No,” Vrith replied. “Why would sothing be wrong? Of course nothing is wrong. It’s all fine. Why would you ask that? Does sothing seem like its wrong?”
She’s definitely on edge. Am I missing sothing? This job really isn’t that difficult. There shouldn’t be anything that could make her this nervous.
“Sothing seems like it’s wrong,” Aylin said. He nudged the dead man with his foot. “You’re uneasy. I take it he didn’t have it?”
“He didn’t have it,” Vrith said. Then she paused. “Uneasy? I’m uneasy? Do I look uneasy?”
“Yes,” Aylin said. “Is it the job?”
“Of course not,” Vrith said. “We’ve already killed the others. The only one left is the guild leader. He’s got to have the location of the treasure thing you’re looking for on him. And he’ll be here tonight. So it’ll be easy, right? Just take him out and we’ll be on our way. Out of here. Never to return. Never to experience this… festival. Nothing to worry about at all.”
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That was a lie. Not all of it. Vrith had been truthful about the job. She wasn’t worried about their task. But the last thing she’d said… that had been a lie. Sothing was definitely bothering her.
“We won’t get to experience the festival?” Sticky exclaid, finally turning back to look at them. “Not even a little bit?”
“I — hold on, Sticky.” Aylin narrowed his eyes at Vrith. “You’re lying. To . Really?”
“I’m not uneasy,” Vrith said. “It’s just… an upset stomach.”
Aylin frowned. That wasn’t a lie. Not entirely, at least. But half-truths weren’t enough to fool his senses. She was still trying to avoid talking about sothing.
“Did you kill soone you shouldn’t have?” Aylin asked. “Did soone see you?”
“Who do you think I am?” Vrith asked, offended. “I don’t make such simple mistakes.”
That, at least, was the truth.
What’s going on? Why won’t Vrith tell what’s bothering her? She’s never been like this before. This job isn’t a difficult one, but if Vrith isn’t feeling well, pushing ahead could be risky. Even an expert swordsman can fall to a misplaced step and bad timing.
“I wanna go to the festival,” Sticky muttered. “Please? Just a bit? I even have so crystals! I won’t have to steal anything!”
Aylin glanced back at the crowd. Then he suppressed a curse. There, passing through the sea of people, was their target. He’d moved faster than they’d expected. The portly man had his hands stuffed full of assorted food and was pushing deeper into the center of the festival. He didn’t seem to have a single care in the world.
The idiot probably didn’t even realize that half of his guild had died tonight.
We don’t want to still be in Redmont when the sun rises tomorrow. Can we wait for him to get tired and leave? No. It’s too likely he stays out the entire ti. We have to take him out in the crowd. The plan will have to change.
But they couldn’t afford to stand out. The dark clothes they wore now were great for blending into the night. They were perfect for slipping in and out of the shadows without drawing any prying eyes.
There were no shadows outside of the alley. Their garb would stand out like a sore thumb. And, compared to the rry festivalgoers filling the streets, so would they. The contrast between them and everyone else was too sharp. Soone would rember them. That could cause all sorts of problems that Aylin had no intention of allowing for.
“Next ti, Sticky,” Vrith said, her words stiff. “It’s okay. There will be a different one. We’re busy tonight.”
A family walked by their alley, hand in hand. The father had a tail coiling out from beneath his adventuring gear and his daughter had a pair of wings poking up from holes cut into her dress, but not a single person even glanced in their direction. People with oddities were commonplace in Obsidia.
The uniform of the festival wasn’t the shape of their bodies. It was the laughter on their faces.
Aylin grinned as a thought struck him.
Perfect. That’ll have to do. This will be even easier than I thought.
“Vrith,” Aylin said. “You’re going to be my wife.”
Vrith choked.
Her face went as red as a lit wick in a split instant as she doubled over coughing.
“Congratulations,” Sticky said. “Does that an we can go to the festival?”
“Yes. You’ll be my daughter,” Aylin said, grabbing his cloak and pulling it off to reveal the plain clothes beneath. He tugged Sticky’s cloak off her and tossed it to the ground before nodding to Vrith. “Take your robe off.”
Vrith rasped as she fought to catch her breath. “I — what? Here? In an alley?”
“Yes. Here, I’ll help,” Aylin said, grabbing Vrith’s cloak and giving it a pull. “Co on. Hands up.”
Vrith let out a strangled noise, but she raised her arms and let him pull the dark clothing off her.
Her stomachache must really be getting to her. We’ll have to do this fast.
“This will be our disguise,” Aylin said. “A family. A bunch of dark-robed assassins are suspicious. But a trio of happy festivalgoers… we can walk right up to our target and finish him off without anyone even realizing what’s going on. But we have to be fast.”
“A disguise?” Vrith asked, her hand pressed against her midriff. Then she blinked. “Oh. Right. Yes. Of course.”
Aylin stared at her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes,” Vrith said sharply. “Yes. I’m fine.”
Lie.
He narrowed his eyes. “Do you want to stay here? I could go with Sticky.”
“No!” Vrith said sharply. She swallowed, then straightened and shook her head. “I’m coming. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Bird!” Sticky exclaid. “Can I get a bird? I want to eat it!”
I suppose that would help sell the image, wouldn’t it?
“Yes. We can get one of the cooked bird legs,” Aylin said. “But we have to move fast. You’re certain you’re fine, Vrith?”
“There’s absolutely nothing you could do to make stay here,” Vrith said, setting her jaw. “I’m coming.”
Truth.
Aylin shrugged. That was enough for him. He took Sticky’s hand, then held his other one out.
“Co on,” he said impatiently. “We have to catch up!”
“Right,” Vrith said. She took a step forward, but Aylin didn’t move. “What? I thought we have to go!”
“Hand,” Aylin said. “Look at everyone else! They’re all dancing and walking together. Give your hand.”
“What?” Vrith’s eyes widened. “I—”
“Can you do this or not?” Aylin asked. “We don’t have ti.”
Vrith’s lips pressed thin. “Yes.”
Aylin grabbed Vrith’s hand. She let out a startled yelp, but there was no ti for anything else. The instant Aylin touched Vrith, Sticky was off like a starving dog. She darted out from the alley on a beeline toward the cooked bird stall, dragging the two of them behind her.
There was no going back now. They didn’t have ti.
All we have to do is pretend like we’re a family enjoying the festival for just long enough to find the guild leader, slit his throat, and take the map off him.
How hard could that be?
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