Dusk Falling (Book 1) (33 page)

Serrtin halted at a nameless street corner and got her bearings. She headed left, pausing to let an old woman cross her path. The saurian kept walking, finally stopping beside a dark alley. Reaching out a quick hand she yanked a figure out and hauled him off his feet by his collar. He squeaked, struggling futilely, “Do you live here, thief?”

The thin man made a sound close to ‘yeep’, and nodded as best he could. Serrtin gave him a shake for good measure.

“I’m looking for Dee Gatsin. Where does he live?”

“D-D-Dee…? I-I don’t know!”

“He’s lived here for quite some time, little man, are you sure you don’t know? Or do I need to jog your memory?” She flashed her fangs.

“G-Gatsin? I know him! Dee, right?” He swallowed. “That way, down the road. A-and then right. He has the shop with a sign outside. Can’t miss it!”

“Thanks.” She released his collar and the small thief tumbled to the ground. He was fast to get to his feet and skitter back into the shadows.

The sign was as easy to find as he had said it would be. Simple and of unpainted wood, the sign had ‘Gatsin’ chiseled onto it beside a spool of thread and needle. The shop shared residence with another establishment, both of the same building but with separate doors. Dee’s shop was smaller than the bakery beside it, owning only a single window whereas the bakery had three.

There were no suspicious-types loitering around thankfully and no one accosted them as Serrtin pushed open the door. A small bell jingled in welcome.

Bolts of clothe organized by color sat on shelves upon shelves around the room. In fact, there was little else. From the arched ceiling hung small crystals, charms and Fae wardings. A good-sized table sat near the far side of the room, bits of half-worked material lay across it along with a few clay cups of sartorial odds and ends and two clothe measuring tapes. One would almost miss the slight figure bent over a sheet of paper in the floor, ink quill held in his teeth. He mumbled over the scratches on the paper, looking up only after nodding in satisfaction over the figures.

Dee Gatsin was not a remarkable man but the smile that brightened his visage was pleasant, doing wonders for the tired muddy blue eyes. His careless black hair shined blue in the light of the full-lit magesphere above the table. Dee spat out the pen, catching it without looking and sat it down not noticing the new ink stain he added to the growing collection on the wooden floor.

The Larren got to his feet with more trouble than one his age ought to have had but the familiar twinges did not seem to bother him much. He wore simple clothes and a tunic vest of undyed wool. When he walked over to greet them, it was easy to see from his gait he used to be a fighter. “Serrtin,” Dee said, pleasure evident in his tone. “My friend, I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten about me.”

Serrtin grabbed his proffered hand and pulled him into a companionable embrace, clapping him on the back. “I don’t forget my teammates. It’s good to see you again.”

“Same here.” Dee grinned up at the Yarcka, releasing her hand. He took in the troupe that had followed her into the shop. “You still work for the Circuit?”

“Yea, though a lot has changed since you were part of my team.” Serrtin said, not wanting to burden him with the truth. “This is Aya Mythren and the Wulf is Agemeer- they’re my new partners. The, ah… smartass in white is Genlo and the Elf is SkyRift. They are… friends.”

Dee caught the stumbling of his old friends tongue, noted it, but did not comment. He knew it had to do with Circuit business and with Circuit business non-Hunters needn’t be told. Dee understood perfectly. He did not feel at all left out. He nodded to each, making silent observations as he did so. “It is a pleasure to meet you all. Would you care for some tea or perhaps mead?” He gestured to the backroom.

“Uh, no, Dee.” The saurian said.

“Hm, now why do I get the feeling you arrived at my doorstep for more than ol’ time’s sake?” The tailor said, lids lowering with a forgiving smile.

“Sorry. We are in a bit of a rush.”

“What do you need help with? I’m not the man I used to be but whatever I can do…”

“You still shoot like a hawk given hands?” Serrtin asked with a grin.

“That I do. A bit rusty but it’s not something I’m likely to forget.” Dee responded. “I still have my longbow though I rarely have a reason to string it anymore. Serrtin, you’re not asking me to come back right? Tell me your not. I have a family now plus with my injuries…”

“No, no, I wouldn’t do that. Don’t worry.” She replied with a shake of her head. “Remember your gear back then?” She hauled Genlo to the forefront by his shirt, the pristine material the only part she could grab when he saw her reaching for him. The youth’s poise was easy to read, he wasn’t in Dee’s shop because he wanted to be.

The Larren couldn’t meet the younger man’s eye for long. Dee glanced back at Serrtin. “I don’t have my kit anymore if that’s what you want.”

“Dee, you always were like that if I didn’t spell it out for you.” Serrtin chuckled. “I want this kid to be a might less conspicuous if you know what I mean. We need to avoid unnecessary attention for a while an’ that’s where you come in.”

Chapter 25

Dee Gatsin was the only tailor in Muln. The town did not really need his services for few could afford the extra coins spent to mend a tear in a well-used cloak or darn a wear-hole in a boot. But he was there when the need did arise and turned away no one. Even the vile-tongued mercs that passed through were assisted. His life was fairly simple but a little more stressful than a tailors life might be outside of a Province town.

He was good at his trade and generous, only charging the cost to his supply stock when he knew the patron couldn’t afford his fees. Often times he took payment in the form of goods and supplies.

The people who came to him had need for his services, needed something from him. He’d never had someone forcibly towed in to his shop and told by his supposed companions that his attire was problematic and that they wanted him to wear something like Dee once wore when he was still a bounty hunter. Indeed, it was an odd request and the tailor would have laughed outright for jest if the ire in the trethen’s eyes hadn’t threatened him openly without speaking should he dare even smile in amusement at the predicament.

Dee did not ask anything personal though not for a want of knowing. He guessed at the youth’s Elven heritage though not the Jrahda blood (nor the Youkai) that ran through his veins. Most of his malcontent seemed focused on the saurian, revealing to the tailor who it was that had ‘towed him in’ to begin with but Dee could only speculate why the one called Genlo allowed such the apparent indignity.

But he wasn’t in the business of asking questions, never was. He trusted his old comrade but then gained quite a few doubts when he reached out to feel the material the youth currently wore.

Genlo reacted violently, Dee back-stepped expecting to have lost a limb. Genlo choked on a snarl as he found his energies suddenly locked behind an impenetrable wall and he was left blind and breathless. He glared back at Aya until the Seal spell relaxed on him once more.

Dee’s day went from odd to dangerously skewed, punctuated by Serrtin’s rough voice. “You really are going to make this as tough as you possibly can, aren’t you…”

Genlo held his tongue defiantly.

The Yarcka sighed and rubbed her eyes. “If you’re gonna be stubborn, you know I can hold you down.”

Flashes of abrupt violence destroying his hard-won shop ran through Dee’s mind and he immediately stepped forward, hands up. “N-no, that’s not necessary! I can do everything by sight. I always keep extra’s in the back- I’ll just hem those to fit. Really, there’s no need… for… that.”

Serrtin suddenly grinned. “There’s my ol’ friend! Great, well, we’ll leave this to you then. In the mean time, we’ll go pick up the supplies.”

New flashes came to the tailor’s mind, all ending in his death for being left alone with a questionable Elf with eyes that rivaled the mercs’ in Muln for iciness. Were they really going to leave him alone with someone who had known him for a span of five minutes and had already had him praying to Kesara for forgiveness for all the wrongs he’d committed in his lifetime?

“I will stay, if that’s okay with you…” The Bren said softly, folding her hands before her.

Dee did not want to come off as ecstatic at the offer but company was just what he was hoping for and he didn’t want to call for his wife and have her bring his young son with her. “That would be just lovely.”

They all got the impression anyways. Dee sighed- yes, he was certainly no longer the man he used to be.

“Well, SkyRift, that leaves just you and me. You up to playing pack mule?”

“Wha..?”

“Glad to hear it!” Serrtin clapped him on the shoulder and lead the Yierhna out. Agemeer followed, stating he would stand as look out though the merry glance he gave to Aya made her question his motives for leaving.

A moment went by in silence after the door shut where the tailor tried to uphold the smile plastered to his face. “A-all right, well, if you could take a seat.” He headed to the table, waving for them to sit on the two stools nearby. The girl politely abided but the Elfkin did not move. “S-so, your name is Aya? You’re a Hunter.”

“Yes, Serrtin and I have been partners with Agemeer and… well, for a few years now.” Aya said. “I am so sorry for all the trouble.”

Dee caught the diffident glance to the snow-haired figure that stood glowering in the absolute center of the room as if expecting there to be hidden traps in the bolts of cloth lining the walls. “Serrtin used to have a way with bringing trouble right to my doorstep so I guess I can say it’s comforting to see she hasn’t changed much in that account.”

“How long did you and Serrtin work together for the Circuit?”

“Hmm, about four years? Something like that. I never did keep track of time until I got hurt, then it was all I kept track of- how many days I spent staring up at the ceiling as I lay invalid in bed wondering if my team still faired well.” Dee sorted through one clay cup, pulling out some straight pins and placing them in between his lips. He paused as he searched for parchment and found it on the floor. “Those were the worst of days. But now my body has healed and though I can never rejoin the Circuit, I love my new life here.”

“You are married now?”

“Yes.” Dee replied, beaming. “My wife Rethenda is in the back with our son. I’ll introduce you when Serrtin gets back. Now, the measurements won’t be exact without… me, well, measuring…”

“That’s understandable. I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

~ ~ ~

Aya wished she could sympathize but Genlo’s attachment to the clothes he wore was borderline fanatical. He was not going to give them up without a fight, driving the mage to an exasperated state much like Serrtin had when arriving at Muln.

But she did not threaten him; she tried reasoning instead.

Failing that, she tried bribery. “Serrtin would have a fit if she knew.” she thought. Aya waited till Dee had gone into the backroom out of earshot and made her plea. “Serrtin doesn’t want you to be a moving target- both the Verca and Niredes Votalo know what you are wearing and it is very easy to spot. Seeing as how you don’t seem to care for your own safety or ours then I’ll make a deal with you.”

“I’m listening…” Genlo said apprehensively.

“I will keep the clothes you have on with us- making sure they are in our supplies when we head out. And, I will try again with the Seal spell, see how much of it I can truly relax. I can’t guarantee the spell will let me manipulate it to a degree like you want but I will try.” Aya told him earnestly. “That is my offer.”

“Agreed.”

The girl smiled up at him brightly and he felt almost nullified by its warmth. The indignation fled but was quickly replaced by an uncomfortable feeling he couldn’t identify. He wanted to draw back away from it but not out of repulsion.

“Genlo,” Aya asked, looking away as she rubbed her arm absently. “I’ve been wondering… what is this attachment you have to your clothes? You don’t like them getting dirty or torn, nor will you abandon them even at your own risk. They are Bren craft-”

Dee returned with an armload of items. Through a mouthful of pins, he asked, “Ready?”

~ ~ ~

Serrtin and SkyRift had no altercations on their side journey through Muln. They visited the shops and stands needed and if they gained any strange glances they slid off Serrtin’s scaly hide like water. SkyRift felt uncomfortable, having not spent much time in the Provinces and certainly not such places as this. He lived in the mountains of Jade, choosing to live near, yet not with, the people there. The trepidation he felt bordered on fear and though the ugly looks shot his way did not help what he was feeling, the fear was due to another matter altogether. His orders did not specify anything other than guiding them to the Sigil. They did not say he could waver from the path.

Serrtin replaced her kickbag and filled it with utensils and foodstuffs, everything the Yarcka could think of to replace what had been left behind at the Niredes Votalo stronghold. She estimated the food rations, going for preserves rather than taste. She paused by a feed supplier, recalling how a short time ago before getting wrapped up in a plot that had her turning her back to her beloved way of life she would have needed to purchase oats or liniment for Aya’s mare.

SkyRift quietly paused beside her, waiting a few moments before speaking. “We should be getting back. It would be adverse to be spotted.”

“You sound like Agemeer.” Serrtin commented offhandedly, shifting the kickbag on her shoulder. The last item purchased was a single wood-blend blanket. It was not a big blanket but it would do for their most vulnerable team member. Everyone else would need to deal with the potential cold; they needed to run light. “Now we can go back. With any luck, Dee and Aya managed to talk some sense into that hardheaded fool.”

“Is that why you volunteered us to go for supplies?”

“Yes, basically. Aya’d think of something. She can handle him better than I with stuff like that. You’d
think
he would be happy knowing we’re willing to spend our coin on
him
.”