Feargus

After meeting with Zacharias, I returned to Jaska, paid for a room at the Three Drinks, got myself righteously drunk on the last of my Hocks Spirits, and planned to have one of those rare eight to nine hour sleeps. But about midway through my blissful stupor, I woke to a poke on my forehead and Everleigh Gloom hovering over me.

"So," she said.

I pulled the covers over my head, and for a second, I'd forgotten I was living this strange new life. I should have pushed for seventy-five per cent.

"Venison stew isn't ready yet," I replied from under the blankets.

Everleigh sighed. "How did I miss this."

"Miss what?"

"There's obviously something wrong with you. Why do you keep talking about food. It's disturbing, and not to mention rude."

"Why's it rude?"

"I can't eat."

I poked my head out. "I wouldn't talk about food if I could help it."

"I don't understand."

"I had pork loin with mashed potatoes and herb gravy for dinner."

Everleigh threw her hands up. "You're a sick man."

"I'm not trying to upset you," I said. "It's just that for breakfast I plan to have three eggs over-easy with a slice of ham."

"Wait." She paused, tilting her head as if looking at something invisible, or listening to something unheard. "Did somebody mess with your brain."

I nodded.

"Did it happen to you in Leberecht."

I nodded again. "Can someone fix it?"

"The seamstress, maybe, but you'd have to give her full access. Sebastian's the best telepath in the world, and the most trustworthy person I know. But he's not here, so."

All the more reason to find him, because Everleigh was exactly right. I didn't want to give Vivienne unfiltered access. Same side or not, it wasn't wise. I didn't ask for Everleigh's help, though. I reckoned if she could have helped me, she would have offered. Any excuse to show off and get me to stop talking about food.

As we know well now: Everleigh Gloom was a decent telepath, but she was a standout elementalist first and foremost, and one of the world's most effective empaths. Powerful, but she didn't know how to help me. Though eventually she understood what I was trying to say when I said the venison stew wasn't ready, and before she left, she told me I best hurry up and have dinner on the table before people die.

And I, a lot like my new best friend Zacharias Vonsinfonie, went back to sleep.

That afternoon, I ran back to Oskari to check on Strauss. He seemed fine, so I zipped by the Peak for a chat, a hot meal, and a cookie with V.

Right—the Ambiance problem. I hadn't forgotten, though I may have been secretly wishing I'd been the one to take the drugs and was actually hallucinating the job. But a brothel—that sounded like a decent time. After finishing up in Oskari, I ran back to Jaska, back to my room at the Three Drinks, and did what I could with the rest of the afternoon to make myself look presentable.

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The brothel was hidden enough to remain discreet, but obvious enough to anyone looking for the goose in the glass. Before heading in, I spotted the notice tacked to the door looking for a bartender. Captain Kavelin had mentioned it when reviewing the details of the job. It was my best in. Besides, I knew my fair share about alcohol, and what I didn't know, I could learn. I was best friends with someone who'd been doing it for five hundred years.

Through the door with the goose in the glass, there was another door with another goose in even more glass. I knocked the special knock, and the door swung open, exposing a reception area with some leather armchairs and curved desk. The man behind it eyed me the way anyone would when a new face emerged.

"What's good for the goose is good for the gander," I said.

The receptionist nodded. "How can I help you?"

"I'm here about the notice."

Bit bold, you say? Not really. Brothels around Auditoria were notorious for employing defected Partisans. As bartenders, sure, but usually as the entertainment. The Barren customers paid top dollar for a piece of a Partisan, typically. It was a specific fetish, and Strachan were especially sought after for their endurance and general bendiness. Sometimes, everything was on the up and up, but sometimes, these organizations took advantage of desperate defects with nowhere to go and not a single note to their name.

I wondered what kind of place this was.

"Come on," the receptionist said, "I'll introduce you to Tanis."

Tanis was a compact, rosy-cheeked Amali in suspenders and a flat cap. Around forty, forty-five, maybe. She wore a pair of round spectacles and shook my hand with a fair bit of strength and enthusiasm. I introduced myself as Jack Finnegan. After she brought me into her office, we had a sit on the twin leather chairs in the corner.

"If you're here about the job, you're hired."

Well, that was easy. Too easy, maybe. She didn't even seem wary, and she probably should have been. It's not a huge secret Chasers, Enforcers, or Agents might come looking at the brothel for marks. I wondered if Faust was protecting the place. I'd have to ask her.

I grinned. "That desperate?"

"Yeah. And I'm guessing if you're here, you are too."

You could say that. "It sounds like you know how it is."

Tanis nodded. "There aren't any others at the moment, but you wouldn't be the first Partisan we take in. Give them a leg up, help them get a head start, make some money. They're usually not here for more than six months, a year."

Since they had no bartender, the house was running on ale only that night, and it gave me a chance to settle in, get to know everybody, learn my way around the bar, and so forth. So far, Tanis was checking all the boxes, which could have been suspicious, or she could just be a nice person. Some people were just nice people.

That night, I served an embark's worth of quality ale, made a room full of new best friends, and watched some people dance naked on a stage. And I was getting paid.

Twice.

I promised Zacharias I'd be back, and I meant it. Traveling through the underground was risky, but it was safer at night. During the day, Everleigh said the Anima were more likely to be skulking around since most didn't bother sleeping. But there was always the chance I'd run into someone, like we had the first time.

Her advice was, "Shoot them in the heart and run."

So, after my shift at the Goose and the Gander, I made my way through the underground. Nothing interesting happened on the way to the crypt that night.

Going forward, I'll let you in on the highlights of our visits.

A Day in the Life With Zack - Entry Log #1

"I didn't know if you would return." "When was the last time you had any visitors?" "Lidia comes by only when she must to feed me." "What would happen if she didn't?" "I wouldn't perish, but I wouldn't be able to do what I do while I sleep." "That's nice of her, then. What do you do when you sleep?" "When I said I've curated a dream, it wasn't metaphorical." "V said time might pass differently for you in there." "It isn't that it passes differently, Feargus Finlay, it's that it simply doesn't exist." "Simply. Does Lidia talk to you when she comes to visit?" "You're the first person I've spoken to in centuries." "Sorry."

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