Ether, Ch. 26

Ether, Ch. 26

Aroc sprinted across the rooftops, swerving around chimneys and making haphazard leaps from one roof to the next. Looking back to see if Fluffy was still following him, he observed that, yes, the little troll was still doggedly keeping up, although he was having some difficulty with the jumping part.

Aroc grinned and sped up. He was used to being used as bait. . .Katz usually made him do anything that involved getting chased. But, then, the way Katz worked, getting chased usually wasn’t necessary. Not being bright enough to grasp the concept of trickery, Aroc preferred a more straightforward method to thievery.

Which was probably why he was so good at escaping angry people.

Now, what could he do to lose the troll. . .?

At the next open space between townhouses, he slid down the drainpipe instead of jumping over the alley. Fluffy, not being as skilled at chase maneuvers as Aroc, had to stop, peer dubiously down the wall, then finally scramble awkwardly down the pipe. At this point, Aroc was a block away already. Cursing fluently, Fluffy sprinted to catch up.

It was quite clear to him that Aroc had the advantage here. . .he was lighter, faster, and (Fluffy admitted grudgingly to himself) maybe a little bit taller. However, he seemed to lack intelligence, reasoned Fluffy, blissfully unaware that he did as well. Therefore, the best way to catch him and make him talk was with a trick.

“Hey!” he called, stopping. He bent over, wheezing. It wasn’t an act. Trolls, especially midget ones, are not built for long distances.

Two blocks ahead, Aroc screeched to a halt. “What?” he called. He didn’t sound out of breath at all, something Fluffy heartily resented.

“Can’t we talk this over?” Fluffy wheedled. “I mean, I’m a minion, you’re a minion, we’ve got a lot in common, y’know?”

Aroc frowned thoughtfully. “This some kinda trap?” he called suspiciously.

“Not at all,” Fluffy lied, sliding his knife out of his belt. It was made of the finest steel available, and professionally sharpened every three uses. Lifelong warranty, too. One of the best purchases Fluffy had ever made.

“Oh,” said Aroc cheerfully. “Okay, then.” He walked back towards Fluffy, his footsteps echoing over the cobblestones.

Fluffy snickered quietly. He couldn’t believe it had been so easy. Just one more step. . .

As soon as Aroc was within reach (which with Fluffy’s arms meant about a foot), Fluffy sprang. He was quite surprised to find that, instead of sliding nicely in between Aroc’s ribs, his knife was pulled out of his hands, and he was sent flying across the alley, landing in an empty wooden box with a resounding crash.

What happened? he wondered hazily, as his own knife was pointed at his throat.

“A’right,” said Aroc gruffly, trying to remember what it was that street thugs were supposed to say. “Don’t make any funny moves.”

“That wasn’t fair,” muttered Fluffy darkly. “Other people aren’t supposed to be tricky.”

“Rule number one,” Aroc told him. “Everybody else i]s always lyin’.”

Fluffy groaned. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, very clever. Let me up now, please.”

Aroc considered. “Y’got another knife?”

“No,” Fluffy lied, inconspicuously reaching for his second knife. It wasn’t quite as nice as the one he’d lost to Aroc, but it would do the job.

“Oh,” said Aroc again. “A’right, then.” He slipped Fluffy’s knife into his pocket and stepped back.

Fluffy scrambled upward and lunged back at Aroc, but for a second time, Aroc whirled around smoothly, yanked his knife out of his grasp, and flung him back onto the shattered remains of the box.

“Ouch,” groaned Fluffy, giving up. Serinnity hadn’t hired him to kill this guy, after all. It was just too much trouble. “I think you broke my ribs.”

“Oh, really?” said Aroc placidly, putting Fluffy’s second knife into his pocket. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Fluffy snorted. “Sure you are.”

“I ain’t, really,” Aroc admitted apologetically. “Y’ was trynna kill me, after all.”

“There is that,” Fluffy agreed. “I tell ya, these last few days have been one thing after another. It’s enough to make me wish I never took this job.”

“Mmm,” said Aroc noncommittally. He couldn’t particularly sympathize, never having had a real job.

“I mean, it’s not as if I don’t have enough to do, what with the merchant’s sons wanting inheritances, nobles wanting to get rid of obscure second cousins, quick-tempered people angry at some imagined slight. . .I really don’t have time to hunt down the Lady Serinnity’s sister on top of it, but she pays well. Plus, she’d probably chop my head off if I argued.”

“That’ll do it,” agreed Aroc.

“And I don’t even get any respect out of the deal,” Fluffy complained. “Most assassins are treated with reverence and fear, but what do I get? Abuse.”

“That’s terrible,” said Aroc sympathetically. “I get th’ same thing, y’know, with followin’ along after Myk an’ Aroc all th’ time. Abuse.”

“Some henchmen,” Fluffy grumbled, “actually get paid when they’re promised.”

“I don’t get paid nothin’,” Aroc complained. “Th’ Myk said I’d spend it all on ale.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Fluffy asked.

Aroc shrugged. “Dunno. She’s got some funny ideas, she does.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah, tell me ‘bout it.”
“I never wanted to be an assassin,” murmured Fluffy, staring distantly up at the stars. “I’d always rather fancied becoming a farmer. But no one ever asked me, no. My father was an assassin, my grandfather and his grandfather and his grandfather before him were all assassins, so it’s off to work I go.”

“Tradition?” asked Aroc.

Fluffy snorted. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Mus’ be hard for ya, yeah?”

“What are you insinuating?” growled Fluffy, narrowing his eyes.

“Insa-what?”

“What do you mean by that?” Before Aroc could answer, Fluffy glared at him. “You’re referring to my height, aren’t you? You’re saying that short guys can’t be assassins? Huh?”

“Um. . .no. . .” said Aroc, who had actually been talking about going into a line of work you didn’t particularly like, but just doing it for the sake of family tradition, and what a shame it was that Fluffy had to give up his dream of being a farmer just so some long-dead ancestors could feel good about their legacy.

Fluffy, however, would not be appeased. “So who says I’m short, huh? Four two isn’t that short! I’ve known shorter guys, believe me. And only half of ‘em were in the circus.”

Aroc blinked.

“Fine, okay, I’m short,” sniffled Fluffy, his anger suddenly abandoned “I’m short, okay? Just say it.”

“Huh?”

Fluffy grabbed onto Aroc’s collar and shook him, his beady eyes narrowed ferociously. “Say I’m short!”

“Ah. . .okay. . .you’re short,” repeated Aroc, completely befuddled.

“See?” Fluffy wailed. “Everyone says it!”

Aroc did the only thing that made sense to him under the circumstances. Actually, it was the only thing that made sense to him under a lot of circumstances.

“Wanna go back t’ th’ Barkin’ Cow?”

“Drinks?” asked Fluffy pitifully.

“Lots of ‘em.”

“Okay. . .”

As the two walked off down the alley, all thoughts of murder plots forgotten, they failed to realize one thing. . .the scrying crystal that Serinnity used to communicate with Fluffy was still activated.

Serinnity had heard everything. It did not improve her mood.