*Click*

The door shuts behind us, and my guest is even so kind as to lock the deadbolt. He turns around, his damn smiley-face mask always grinning at me. I back away ever so slightly, regarding him, trying to figure out his game. The future remains tantalizingly out of reach, so I’m stuck with myself and magic. Knowing that in negotiations, the first one to talk, loses, I just wait. The walls of the shop are well soundproofed by my request. Despite the chaos of the city outside, we can’t hear a thing in here.

“So...this it.” My unwelcome visitor trails a hand on the display case as he turns his back to me and examines one of the chilled cheeses inside. “Impressive...I had heard that everyone was impressed with the genius teenage cheesemaker, but I never expected the masses to be right. Your shop...it’s tasteful. I like it.”

“Cut the small talk,” I reply. “What do you want?”

“Tsk, tsk, still a kid, I suppose.” He glances over his shoulder before returning to the side display case which contains my prototype wines. “You should learn to be more patient, Myrr. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself walking into...complications. Now I suppose, I need to give you some credit. Points for the idea, and the spell, that was ingenious. I don’t know how you did it, but that explosion...it was killer. I imagine you pissed off quite a few members of the Derivuchi Clan tonight. However, the lack of consideration you gave to magic tracking...not to mention basic surveillance-“ He points at himself and I swear he’s mocking me. “-Such little mistakes tell me that you’re not experienced in such things. This is your first attempt. At least in this way. Or am I wrong?”

“Are you going to keep speculating? Or are you going to give me a reason not to slit your throat tonight?” I’ve had enough. He’s seen too much.

“Oh? You...a cheesemaker...no sorry, a mage...you’re going to silence me...here?” The stranger turns around, fixing his gaze on me through his mask’s tiny eyeholes. A demonic white smile taunts me. “At this range? You’d try your chances against me with magic? With no guards? Pardon me if I’m...underwhelmed. Now please, let’s talk civilly-“

“MEERA!” I interrupt him to call out. Instantly, there’s a light whoosh of wind. She’s getting better at achieving that ghost-like ability to enter and exit rooms that Romy was so good at. “Get out here!” The stranger blinks behind his mask as a tall girl in a low-cut dress appears in front of me. Grinning lasciviously, Meera looks over her shoulder at me, putting herself between us. Wiping crumbs from her lips, she suddenly has a knife in her hands. Despite the fact that she’s in that pretty dress, one look at how casually she puts herself between me and our guest and you know she’s more than she seems.

“Yes, Boss?” Meera trills with a dangerous gleam in her eye. The cute heart on her eyepatch suddenly takes on an almost demonic cast as she twirls her knife in-between her slender fingers. “Do you need someone thrown out?” The strange man narrows his eyes behind the mask, I can see he’s thinking, calculating. I just realized, the Rainstopper robes are pretty loose. It makes it hard to see people’s movements coming. This guy’s trench coat does the same thing, but it’s still easier to read. After a moment, the man holds up his hands, but far from surrender, his words only make me more on guard.

“Ahh...I see. You’re not as dumb as I thought. A mage always has his guards...still though, I have to say, that’s an interesting movement technique you used, little girl.” Running his eyes up and down Meera’s body, I think he’s grinning. To her credit, Meera isn’t intimidated, if anything, standing up straighter and meeting his gaze head on. Tapping his index finger against his chin, the stranger doesn’t draw a weapon, simply concluding, “I know all the assassin families in Meerkeep. None of them move like that. Which tells me you’re not from the city. However, the way you entered without a sound...it’s familiar to me. You know, funny enough...I heard a rumor the other day...did you know...the Rainstopper Sect has a new Secthead? The name...Janus wouldn’t happen to mean anything to you...would it?”

Damn...double damn. He read us like a book.

Though I’m fine keeping my poker face, Meera isn’t so controlled. It’s slight, just a tiny movement, but she twitches when he mentions Janus’s name and I’m sure our guest noticed. Sighing, I walk forwards and tap her on the shoulder. It’s too dangerous to have her here. Meera is better than most Rainstoppers at hiding her emotions, but this guy is on another level. I have to deal with him myself.

“It’s fine. Go on back,” I tell her.

“But, Boss!” She isn’t happy. Turning her head to glance at me sideways through her good eye, she worriedly whispers, “You sure you can handle him? He’s probably an assassin...everyone is in Merekeep...at this range...”

“I’ll be okay.” Smoothing my face, I give her a little push towards the back door and she nods, understanding that I don’t want her here. “I’m sure our guest understands that I am not alone now. And he won’t make any trouble...will you?”

“I just came to talk.” The stranger watches with interest as Meera strides out of the room, her shoes clacking ever so slightly on the floor. It’s obvious she’s a bit nervous having given away our identity as Rainstoppers, so she’s trying to avoid her usual smooth movements. However, a lifetime of training can’t be reversed easily. My ‘number one employee’ unfortunately is quite a killer, but she’s not quite as good at subtlety. Sometimes I wonder if I should have brought Janus instead...no he would have given away the game immediately. Once the backdoor closes behind Meera, we’re alone. Our guest chuckles, “Heh, take it from me, Kid. Women aren’t worth it. Men might not be as pretty, but women will stab you in the back, every time. Even if they don’t mean to.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me,” I reply. My headache now infinitely worse, I find myself still cut off from the future. Additionally, I’m now almost certain that the man in the room with me is far stronger than I’d like. Fighting him would probably be unwise without Foresight. Perhaps it’s time to try negotiation. Walking by him, I go to the wine display case but make sure to keep a few spells at the ready in case he tries anything. His blank smiley faced mask just continues to grin as I pass by. “You know, maybe we can get along. Fine...you still want that drink?”

“Now you’re talking.”

*Tinkle*

*Pop*

Retrieving two new glasses and a fresh bottle of experimental Malbec red wine from the Chilled display case, I pour us each a drink. Though I look at ease, and doubtless he thinks I’m hampered by the close distance, I do have one last card to play if he attacks. Close combat isn’t my forte, but I train regularly with Meera to try to build up my body. If it comes down to it, I should be able to defend myself until magic or Meera can bail me out. Every movement I make is designed to project an image right now. I have to seem confident enough that he’ll respect me as a threat, but also maintain the illusion that I’m not familiar with close combat. However, I can already see his eyes behind the mask staring at Mephis’s dagger, at my waist. The way his gaze lingers on it, I get the feeling he senses something is wrong with my act. Already, I feel like I’ve lost the upper hand. However, I didn’t become a god of gambling in my last life by folding every bad set of cards I was dealt. Steeling my face, I keep bluffing like my life depends on it. Who knows, maybe it does?

“Here.” I pass him a glass, noting the black gloves on his hands. Their elegant, well-crafted, and expensive. Perhaps a clue as to his station in life. “I must tell you, this wine’s still not ready. So, if it disappoints, I must apologize.”

“No worries,” he replies, accepting the glass. Glancing at me, I notice that my guest seems to be waiting for something. Ahh...he wants me to drink first in case it’s poisoned. Without hesitation, I take a sip, never taking my eyes off of him. Raising my glass, I hold it out for a toast. He watches me swallow before returning the gesture. “Cheers.”

“Well, I’ve offered you, my wine. And you’ve seen my security,” I tell him as he lifts his mask just slightly and takes a sip. It’s impossible to see anything underneath, but perhaps I can get some clue from the way he moves, just as he read Meera. “Now then, how about we go down to business. It’s obvious you want something from me. And I’ve been watching you. It’s clear that you have no intention of reporting me to the Omniscient Guard...so I suspect that you agree with what I’m doing. Whatever your reason, you’re happy that the Derivuchi Clan’s barracks were destroyed. Aren’t you?”

“Nice,” the stranger replies, examining the red wine as he swirls his glass. Whether he’s talking about my deductions or the wine, I can’t tell. “I love your operation. And your toys. But that’s as far as my opinion goes. I simply wanted to see how you were doing things. Whether or not you might be of use to me...”

“Your conclusion?” I ask. Of use in what?

“Useful, a bit inexperienced, but useful,” he tells me, before raising his mask and finishing the glass in one fell swoop. Placing the empty cup on my table, the stranger finally meets my eyes. It’s like staring into midnight itself, black murky and undecipherable. A void devoid of light. But somewhere inside, a spark of some emotion blooms in his gaze. Rage, anger, it’s concealed, but I can see it. It feels familiar, I’ve seen such eyes before. I’m almost glad he’s directing his gaze towards the empty glass rather than me. “You’re going to need help if you want to go any farther. Or you’ll be caught. I can provide a consultation. Free of charge, consider it...a thank you for this excellent wine. Is it really unfinished? I’d be very interested in knowing where you learned the recipe for such a wonderful brew...”

“A consultation?” I ask. “What are you offering exactly?”

“Knowledge of Merekeep’s defenses,” he answers without fanfare. Casually as if he’s not promising to divulge precious secrets. Cracking his neck, the stranger shows no sign of hesitation as he says, “I can educate you on anti-magic tracking. Show you how to conceal yourself when you place your spells. Help you plant those strange contraptions of yours if necessary. I am intimately familiar with Merekeep’s inner workings. It’s...shall we say a hobby of mine to study such things. I will share my observations with you.”

“Uhuh.” I keep my face blank. To be honest, I wish I was wearing my own mask, it feels like I’m at a disadvantage. “And what do you expect in return. Why should I trust anything you say? You could just be setting me up. Trying to draw out forces, figure out who I’m working with. How do I know you won’t immediately turn around to report me? I don’t believe you’d do all these things for...free.”

“Your suspicions are natural.” The stranger’s eyes are undecipherable, but for a second, the emotion I saw hidden inside, that smoldering spark, flares to life. His voice changes, and it seems for just an instant, that he has lost a bit of control. “I think I know why you chose to attack the Derivuchi Clan, a clan which has few grudges, but happens to serve those with greater sins, and luckily for you, I share your goal. Those in charge of Merekeep...well, they’ve taken things from me. I’d like to see them...suffer. Based on the way your face is changing, I think my guess was correct. You want the same.”

“Mmm...perhaps we do have the same goal.” I tell him. Putting down my unfinished wine glass, I contemplate this new enemy turned potential ally and wonder who he is. However, despite everything, I can sense the truth in his words. That rage in his voice as he describes the ones at the top of Merekeep, I trust that much is true. “Alright then...tell me more about the city’s defenses. What is magic tracking? How can I circumvent it?”

A satisfied gaze, the stranger seems a bit less strange as he raises his glass for me to fill.

“Well, I can see it’s going to be a long night. How about you pour me more of that delicious wine first?”

...

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