Only Villains Do That

Progress was paying off. Bit by bit, North Watch became more livable, thanks to our efforts. And, as I’d predicted, I noticed an uptick in morale. Just having something to do with their days was good for the bandits’ health, both physical and mental. So was living in quarters that weren’t full of dust, mold, and those thick sticky vine-like streamers made by some species of climbing crawns. I had been almost relieved to find that there were normal spiders here, too. Not that I’m particularly fond of spiders, but at least they were familiar. However the rest of the crew felt about the spiders versus crawns issue, they definitely went about the place with more energy and enthusiasm. Even Kasser, though it was harder to tell as he clammed up whenever I was around.

In retrospect I may have gone a little too hard on him.

Cleaning up the rest of the fortress had stalled for a day when I diverted everyone’s efforts to deep-cleaning the old stable, but with all hands on it that had only taken an afternoon. I had done this in reaction to the dual discoveries that there was a channel of the on-site spring which could be diverted into this building, and that it emptied onto an enormous square basin against the rear wall which had served as a water trough for the animals. Now that, too, was paying off.

That evening, Aster opened the door from the mess hall to peek in and find the stable entirely transformed from the dark, stinking, crawn-infested hole in which I’d hidden from Kasser and Harold on my first day. Spotlessly clean and well-lit by reed torches soaked in the standard asauthec blend for low heat, bright light and a long burn, it was also noticeably damp. Fortunately the stable came with a floor which subtly sloped toward the drain channel along its center. It would be a problem if someone dropped a coin in here, but right now it worked very well for its intended purpose. The room was also closed off now; the iron hinges of the big stable doors had rusted to practically nothing, but the big akorshil doors themselves were intact, as apparently properly-treated akorshil didn’t decay, and with some help from the guys I had gotten them propped up in place.

And then there was the centerpiece. My own masterwork.

Aster peeked in, silently took stock of the scene, and then slipped the rest of the way inside, shutting the door after herself. She approached me at the far end of the old stable, her expression even more sardonic than usual.

“I hope this is important?” I drawled.

“That’s what I want to ask,” she retorted, folding her arms.

The old water trough was, apparently quite by accident, perfectly designed. Deep enough to sit in with your head and shoulders over the rim, subtly rounded on the interior so there were no sharp edges, and propped up on short legs that left a space underneath so it could be drained through a plugged hole in the bottom. I had piled loose akorthist bricks fallen from the outer walls around the edges of that to enclose the space. The only tricky part had been figuring out the right number of fire slimes to put under there to get the perfect temperature.

“Yes,” I said, as solemnly as I could for being so relaxed. “This is very important. You should try; it’s extremely therapeutic.”

“If that’s an attempt to get me naked, I’ve heard better. Anyway, what’s therapeutic about sitting in hot water?”

“Everything.” I lounged back in the bath, stretching my arms along both sides of the rim, and smiled blissfully up at her. “Also, if you can’t tell from the pink glow, I’ve got healing slimes in here. But even so, the importance of a proper hot bath cannot be overstated. You know, now that I think about it, the fact that you Fflyr don’t bathe must be both the cause and the effect of how generally horrible this country is. It’s a vicious cycle. A vicious, stinky cycle.”

“Of course we bathe,” she said, affronted. “You’ve never caught me smelling like an abattoir! But you bathe in a stream, or a fountain, or with a bucket and cloth if you’ve got nothing else.”

“Yeah, I saw those…stationary spigots that inn we stayed at tried to pass off as a bathhouse.”

“Is that why you were so disappointed? The water has to be flowing in some manner to wash the dirt off you. That’s what makes you clean! What you are doing is making Dark Lord soup.”

Junko barked, though without disturbing the folded towel resting atop her head.

“No, Junko, I didn’t forget you,” Aster said patiently. “Soups are named after the main ingredient. Dark Lord, healing slime, and dog soup just doesn’t roll off the tongue.”

“Well, obviously, you wash yourself off before you get in the bath, otherwise yes, you’d just be stewing in your own filth. A proper shower would be helpful for that, but I don’t expect miracles.”

“Uh huh. Good thing that doesn’t make this completely pointless. And it’s customary, where you’re from, to have your dog in the bath?”

I turned a thoughtful eye on Junko, who was sitting upright with just her head and shoulders emerging from the water, serving as my very convenient towel rest. The surface behind her kept rippling due to her wagging tail, but even she seemed very relaxed.

“No…actually, I’m pretty sure this would get me kicked out of any onsen in Japan. But hey, she wanted to come in. I’ll just have to clean the tub afterwards. Or make Donon do it. Anyway, I believe you were going to explain what was important enough to interrupt bath time?”

“Just checking on you, to be honest. You’ve been in here a long time, and Biribo’s starting to get agitated. I think something about being a familiar makes him kinda unsettled if he’s separated from you for too long.”

“Meh. He’ll live.”

Aster tilted her head slightly to one side, her expression going pensive. This gave me about two seconds’ notice that what came next was going to be way too awkward for bath time.

“Why are you so mean to Biribo?”

Yep, called it.

“Are you kidding? He’s a creepy little lizard who answers to the evil goddess who abducted me to this hell world.”

“And the living symbol of your frustration with this whole situation, I get it.” She made a peculiar lopsided gesture combining a nod and a shrug; I’d seen a few other Fflyr do that, though not as often as their ritual hand gestures. “Is that his fault?”

I let out a huff through my nose. “Did you miss the part where he answers to Virya? The lizard explicitly works for the enemy, and I’m dependent on him. Just how happy do you think I am about this relationship?”

“Sure, but is that his fault? He’s a tiny flying lizard. You’re only working for Virya because of what she threatened to do to you if you don’t, right? Well, you’re a grown man with all your Dark Lord powers and the full knowledge of a futuristic utopian society. Imagine how much worse it is for a little critter like Biribo. Do you think he even likes Virya? Seems like you could find common ground instead of taking out your stress on him.”

I could have spent the entire rest of the night refuting the notion of Japan as a utopia. Sure, compared to Fflyr Dlemathlys…sort of. But still. She had me in a corner, though; in this conversation, pursuing that tangent would be a blatant evasion of the subject and Aster would not hesitate to gleefully call me out on it.

Instead I sighed and sunk a little deeper in the water. “Aster, bath time is for relaxation. This is a sacred thing you are defiling here.”

“Oh, do excuse me, my lord,” she said with deep solemnity and folded her hands down at me.

I raised one hand out of the water to make a languid gesture. “Well, since you’ve gone and embraced the awkwardness anyway, I’ve been thinking. Do you think it’s weird that I don’t wanna bang you?”

Aster threw up her hands in exasperation. “The things that come out of your mouth!”

“I’m serious! Here we are: me, dashing and ravishingly in the altogether, and you…cute enough, I suppose, in the right light—”

Her hand skillfully impacted the surface at the perfect angle to slice water right into my eyes. Junko barked at her in what sounded suspiciously like encouragement.

I wiped at my face without complaining because, after all, fair enough. “But really. Not to get all mushy but I definitely trust and like you more than the rest of these goons. We’re kinda stuck out here with each other and this pretty fucked up situation. Everything I understand about human psychology says this is exactly how people get together, but I dunno…”

“No spark?” she said wryly.

I shrugged. “It’s not that you aren’t pretty. It’s just occurred to me…seems odd.”

“Well, that’s just how it is with men and women, Lord Seiji. Passion is unpredictable by nature. A lot of the time it rears up where it’s not wanted and causes no end of trouble. Then again, sometimes it never happens when by all accounts you’d think it should.”

“Just no chemistry, huh,” I murmured.

“Is that really something to be bothered by?” she prodded, smiling. “I don’t know about you, but to me our situation seems complicated enough. I think I’m a lot more comfortable not having to add an interpersonal layer that’s just guaranteed to make everything…sticky.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” I agreed with a sigh. My next thought caused me to hesitate. If I revealed to her… But I’d been over this in my own head before. If I couldn’t trust Aster, I was screwed anyway. “There’s something you should know, though.”

“Uh oh,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Right on the heels of that conversation?”

“I told you about my spell combination. Well, Enjoin—y’know, the source of your Blessings—is based partly on Enamor.”

Aster emitted a startled bark of laughter. “What, you know the love spell? You, of all people!”

“Love spell? Are you serious? I don’t think you understand how that thing works.”

“Hey, that’s just what I’ve always heard it called.”

“We’re talking about a way to remove somebody’s agency so they can be coerced into sex. Love isn’t the word I would choose.”

“So I’m under the influence of Enamor, am I?” she grinned. “Then how do you explain my complete lack of any urge to strip off and climb into this tub of soup? Aside from the dog hair.”

“If you’d let me finish, none of the effects of Enamor are inherited by Enjoin, only the conditions. So I can only cast it on someone I’m physically attracted to—”

“Aww, I’m blushing.” She wasn’t.

“—even if she’s a horrible wench who won’t let me finish a sentence. And the spell’s termination clause is, y’know…the sexual fulfillment part. And it can’t be cast twice on the same target.”

Her eyebrows rose again as she caught on. “Ah. So, if we did go to bed, I’d lose all my borrowed powers and could never get them back?”

“Exactly.”

And there it was. She could walk out of here right now and just keep having dual Blessings forever, regardless of anything else I did. That had been true this whole time, though; now she knew it.

Aster just grinned indulgently and splashed me again. “Well, then it seems like a very good thing we’re not making this complicated! What the hell were you so worried about, anyway?”

“Maybe I’m worried because it seems to work out too neatly,” I said, scrubbing water out of my eyes. “I’m only realizing in hindsight how many things that’ve happened to me were exactly what I needed, and a lot of ‘em could’ve spelled disaster if things had gone even slightly differently. It makes me worried about just how many strings Virya is pulling.”

“Well…that’s fair. But there’s not much you can do about her, at least not now. I’d say just be glad you’ve got a goddess with a vested interest in you not being killed, even if she is the bad one.”

“There aren’t any good ones,” I muttered. “I’m only about halfway certain she’s the worse of the two.”

“Always such a ray of sunshine.”

“Maybe I’d be more agreeable if people didn’t keep interrupting my bath.”

“All right, all right, I’m going. Just don’t stay in there until you shrivel up.”

“Just for that, I’m gonna!”

“Yeah, that’ll show me.”

The next day, we returned to Gwyllthean.

It had been a week since we received our “delivery” from the Auldmaer Company. I did want to check in with him, but for security reasons I’d made the decision that Lord Seiji and the Healer would never again be in the city within a few days of each other, so that would have to wait. By the same principle, I didn’t mean to make my visit every seven days on the dot (Ephemera used seven-day weeks; it figured that their only familiar system was the one based on a weird arbitrary number). Roughly a week or so between the Healer’s appearances seemed about right, though.

It would take a few weeks at least to build up to what I was planning. Months, realistically. The timing worked out as that gave me the chance to get more things squared away before I had to settle a bunch of new recruits into North Watch. There was always more cleaning and upkeep to do, we had goods to stock up on in preparation, and underhanded banditry strategies to refine. Unfortunately that was where I hit my first major snag, as several of those goals were halted until I could get more access to the goblin alchemy Sakin recommended.

After our mutual exchange of free samples, I’d heard nothing more from the goblins, either Maugro or the new bunch. Since Youda had given away the high value of the slimes I’d provided, I assumed I was being kept waiting as a power move and bargaining tactic, which didn’t bode well for the prospect of bringing negotiations to a swift conclusion. I was more than a little tempted to keep the alchemist’s representatives waiting just as long when they finally deigned to show up again. I probably wouldn’t; I was in a hurry. On the other hand, something told me that allowing this Sneppit character to get the impression she could jerk me around with impunity would only lead to more problems down the line.

There was also the question of acquiring more spells and artifacts, which had also hit a roadblock. Maugro’s list of available Spirits on Dount was very informative: it informed me that I had no useful options. Every Spirit that could provide me anything I actually needed was firmly under the control of one of the Fflyr Clans (which meant inside a fortified keep, usually) or one of the beastfolk tribes deep in the khora. The latter were a slightly more feasible option than the former, but that wasn’t saying much. Neither was likely to give me the time of day, but at least I wasn’t deliberately trying to avoid the notice of the beastfolk. I didn’t need the Clans taking an interest in the mysterious foreign Lord Seiji, the enigmatic Healer, or the nascent bandit lord based out of North Watch, much less drawing a line between any of the three.

So for now, that left my gambit in Cat Alley, and as the sun set on Gwyllthean, that was where Aster and I arrived. Fully disguised, her black-stained greatsword at the ready, Biribo hiding inside my cloak.

This night, we started at the end of the street farthest from the main road, where the brothels were cheap, poor, filthy, and altogether shrouded in a veritable miasma of despair and human degradation. While I was glad, in hindsight, that I’d begun my first visit with the bigger, nicer establishments in the center of Yrshith Street, it had meant that the longer the night drew on and the more tired I became, the more progressively horrible the places were, in a feedback loop that had left both Aster and I exhausted and drained by the time we were done. This way, our trip would get a little bit less depressing toward the middle, at least until we crested the bell curve with the central brothels and started heading back toward the ones on the fringes. Even then, the cheap, dismal places at the end of the street closer to the highway were somewhat less cheap and dismal than those on the farther end.

That was the theory, anyway.

Somewhat to my surprise, the theory worked in practice, for once.

Here I had my first real evidence of progress; rumor had indeed swirled in my wake after my previous visit, and several of the doors which had been slammed in my face before were now opened, with varying degrees of caution. A few of the low-rent madames remained too wary of my intentions, but a handful of the others found their hearts opened to…well, greed. I did not delude myself that care for the well-being of their working girls was a factor in their calculations, but healthy whores were more profitable whores, and therefore free healing was basically free money.

Thus, I had some new cases of disease to treat, some of them verging on the horrific, as before. Among the familiar faces I saw, though, I didn’t see signs of resumed infection. Of course, I Healed them anyway. Most infectious illnesses would take longer than a week to start showing symptoms, and it was a given that some of them would have picked up something in the intervening days.

On the other hand, the injuries were exactly as bad as when I’d been here last. In keeping with my mysterious Healer persona, I forbore comment, and even controlled my expression even though I took care to keep my face hidden. It was, I remained aware, deeply hypocritical for me to take moral offense at what I was seeing here; my own goal was to use these people. I was not planning to use them anywhere near as brutally as their current exploiters, but still. Being a lesser breed of asshole doesn’t mean you get to call yourself a hero. It was just… You couldn’t see shit like this without feeling something, unless you were a psychopath.

Maybe I should bring Sakin down here sometime and test a theory.

Plus, and yes this was petty, I was personally insulted at having my own work undone. When I Healed a fresh black eye on a girl of about seventeen whose broken nose I had Healed the week before, I found I had my own beef with whatever piece of shit had done it, in addition to outrage on her behalf.

Nothing was ever going to make this work less emotionally exhausting, but it was all about managing the highs and lows. My little experiment did pay off; by the time I had worked my way back to the center of Cat Alley a couple hours or so before midnight, I found myself far less mentally bedraggled than I had been at this hour on my first run.

It actually verged on comforting when I stepped into the rear entrance of the Alley Cat itself. Even the shady-looking guy guarding the back door gave me a purely respectful nod.

“Well, well,” Miss Minifrit drawled in her rejuvenated alto, pausing to inhale deeply through her pipe and blow an artful streamer of smoke toward the ceiling. “I had a feeling we hadn’t seen the last of you.”

I shook my head, just widely enough to make it apparent with the heavy cowl. “Tsk, tsk. What did I tell you about smoking?”

“And what did I tell you about telling me about smoking?” she countered, but now there was a faint smile hovering about her lips. That was progress, anyway. “But wait, let me guess. The price…”

“…has been paid,” I finished, inclining my head.

She exhaled smoke through her nostrils, looking like a seductive dragon. “Well, there goes one theory. It would almost be simpler, if you were up to anything so mundane as getting us hooked on free healing so you could later start charging through the nose.”

“That sounds like a respectable grift,” I acknowledged. “Perhaps in another life I could have tried it. Alas, we are all here now, and the price—”

“Yes, I remember your slogan. And I gather you still won’t accept remuneration for your services. Don’t say the line again.”

I hesitated, reminding myself not to break character. Minifrit had a way of drawing out some of my conversational enthusiasm; she was just fun to verbally spar with. But it was Lord Seiji who was the wiseass; the Healer was aloof and mysterious.

“To take more would make me a thief.”

“Mm.” She regarded me with an arch expression for a long moment of silence while the laughter and song from her lively common room washed over us. Then, at last, the madame found another reason to smile. “Well. Whatever it is you are actually up to, Healer…and however I end up feeling about you when this is all over…thank you, in all sincerity. Both for looking after my girls, and…” She lightly tapped her throat with the hand not holding her pipe.

I just nodded again. “Then, who here is in need of healing?”

“How much damage do you think we could have accrued in a week?”

“On Yrshith Street? More than anyone should.”

“Too right,” Minifrit agreed with a grimace. “Well, then, if you are still offering your services, I’ll not stop you. Just don’t disrupt my clients or business. And you remain welcome to my hospitality, should you ever extract that stick from where it is stuck. I have just the girl to help you with that, if you’d like.”

“Healer!” a new voice burst out as a young woman emerged from one of the back rooms and spotted me. “He’s back! The Healer’s here!”

Minifrit ran a tight enough ship that nobody came out of an occupied room, or stopped entertaining in the public area (though a few of the working girls out there glanced through the bead curtain), but apparently that left enough of the staff at liberty for a mob of half a dozen to materialize seemingly out of every crack in the walls. My last sight of the madame herself before I was crowded into a corner was of her making a languorous “go ahead” gesture at me with her pipe, which I took more as bowing to inevitability than permission.

In some of the dingier places, it seemed like the women were actually afraid to seem too happy; the excitement at my presence had been muted in comparison, and more than one had cast nervous glances at their madames before deliberately stifling their enthusiasm. Minifrit, like most of the owners of the better brothels, seemed to encourage her people to enjoy life if they could, so long as it didn’t disrupt her business. Thus, the overeager gaggle of women were eager and openly excited to see me, even as they quite deliberately surrounded and herded me into the back hall out of sight of the public room.

There remained fairly little for me to do here, compared to some places. No one was showing any signs of disease; a few of the women requested non-specific healing anyway, and received it. There were several minor injuries, the worst of which was a combination cracked molar, dislocated jaw and large bruise along that entire side of her face. The woman had obviously been punched. At least nothing as bad as the savage beating which had nearly killed Kastrin had happened this week, but Cat Alley remained Cat Alley. Minifrit’s bouncers would toss out a john who got rough with the personnel, but clearly some got in one good hit before that happened.

And, as the gossip which surrounded me reaffirmed, there were always Lady Gray’s people, who got away with doing whatever they liked because the consequences of standing up to them were even worse.

We would soon see about that.

All told it was by far the most pleasant—or more accurately, least unpleasant—stop of the evening; I spent at least as much time deflecting questions as administering healing. And I noticed Kastrin herself present and watching me. With a smile, but a muted and wary one. She had reason to be grateful for my intervention, more than most, but also had the wit and life experience to be suspicious of a free handout. I decided that made her a useful barometer for how well I was doing in my campaign to befriend the denizens of Cat Alley.

It was also Kastrin who, after disappearing for a few minutes, brought my visit to a close.

“Healer!” She squeezed past her coworkers who were lounging in the hall chatting at me, now that it had been a few minutes since anyone actually requested healing. I turned to her expecting more conversation which I’d have to find a way to duck out of, but her expression was far more serious. “There’s trouble. Two of Lady Gray’s thugs are hanging around the back entrance, asking about you.”

“I’m surprised it took this long,” said Minifrit, manifesting in the hallway as if summoned like a genie. The woman’s awareness and control of her establishment was seriously impressive. At a sharp gesture from her, the girls around me crowded against the walls, clearing a path. “And of course, you picked my place to get cornered in.”

“Point taken,” I agreed. “I believe I shall make myself scarce, before something happens which proves disruptive to your clientele.”

“I don’t know how limber you can possibly be in that getup,” Kastrin said, casting a doubtful eye over my heavy coat and cloak, “but there’s a way out on the top floor. If you can jump at all, you can get to the next roof over, and from there getting down shouldn’t be too hard. Might wanna hop a few more rooftops, though, just to be safe.”

“Gray’s people use the roofs too, Kastrin,” said another woman.

“Only when they’re expecting a need,” she retorted. “I’m not saying it’ll work twice, but for now…”

“For now,” I interrupted, catching Minifrit’s eye and noting her wary expression, “my mysterious disappearance from here when they think me cornered will only bring attention on this house. I’ll just go out the front.”

“If they have men at the back, they’ll have them at the front,” Minifrit warned. “It’s a lot easier to hide among the crowd than on the canal boardwalk. I don’t know who you think you’re dealing with, Healer, but these men will not hesitate to accost you in full view of the public.”

“No doubt,” I replied. “Please don’t worry about me, ladies.”

“I’m sure your silent companion here knows how to use that sword,” the madame said, giving Aster a sharp look, “but I don’t recommend it. If you succeed in cutting down any of Lady Gray’s men, especially if they’re out on her business, that will only make her attention considerably more…focused.”

“I appreciate the warning, Miss Minifrit. Rest assured, though, I came here to heal, not to harm. I know what I’m doing.”

“I very much fear you do,” she said, staring me down. “I think I’d almost rather you were a naive fool.”

“I’ll try not to take that personally,” I replied.

“We’ll see who takes what personally when it comes to pass that you’ve finally brought down all the trouble you’re inevitably going to.”

That made me crack a grin, not that she could see it. Instead, I bowed to her.

All of the women clustered in the hall reared back in surprise, several looking uneasy. Minifrit just raised one eyebrow.

“You are from a long way away. We don’t bow in Fflyr Dlemathlys.”

I actively did not give a fuck what they did in Fflyr Dlemathlys, and fully intended to do everything in my not inconsiderable power to overturn every aspect of their miserable lives. But this was not the time to say so to people’s faces.

Instead, I silently and mysteriously glided down the hall, through the bead curtain, and across the common room, where my passage gathered a lot of curious stares but did not slow down the laughter and shouting appreciably.

Minifrit, as was very much like her, was right on the money. No sooner had Aster and I emerged into the blue glow of the brothel lights than two almost exaggeratedly scruffy-looking men with clubs hanging at their belts materialized right out of the crowd in front of us.

“And this must be him!” one of them said, showing me a grin that was prominently missing a tooth. “The great and powerful Healer of Cat Alley! Sorry to interrupt your rounds, Master Healer, but my chum and I require a moment of your time.”

“We represent a certain…business concern who has interests throughout the Gutters,” his partner continued. “I gather you’re new in town, but something tells me you’ll have heard of her by now, even so.”

“Lady Gray would like a word with you,” said the first, still grinning but now adding a very pointed emphasis to his tone. “At your earliest convenience.”

All around us, the crowd had practically stopped moving; everyone either recognized these goons or had heard the name Lady Gray and knew exactly what it portended. That suited me just fine—all of this did. I had expected something of the sort sooner or later, and not being an idiot, planned for it.

And now? It was showtime.