Dunslough Cartographic Society/Oz
I woke to an insistent pounding in my ears. Whether the thundering din was in my head or at my bedroom door was on no consequence at that moment. I had to make it stop.
Untangling myself from Quellyn’s legs, I slid out of bed and staggered across the minefield of clothing, bottles, riding crops, and other... ahem... outils d'amour. Reaching the door, I peered owlishly through the crack at the footman. I rested my head against the door jamb, the cool dark teak wood against my forehead, and heard him say, “A Master Hezekiah Flint to see you, Maestro. He is in the front parlor.”
Shutting the door, I turned to see the twin dimples atop Quellyn’s luscious backside disappear into the bathroom. A little voice in the back of my mind reminded me that sleeping with my graduate student was a bad idea, but I ignored it. I pulled on some trousers and a shirt and went to see what Flint wanted. He had always been a very useful creature, finding the odd arcane implements I needed for my research and helping me dispose of the curious oddiments that I found in my travels. For a commission, I reminded myself as I walked into the parlor.
“Well met, Master Flint,” I said as I poured a healthy shot of rum from the sideboard, “And what brings you to Casa Ozatlan at this beastly hour of the morning?”
“Beastly, Maestro? Dawn broke seven hours ago.” He looked dubiously at the tumbler in my hand as I emptied and refilled it.
“Well. I’m indulging my vices I suppose.”
Flint stood and took the tumbler from my hand and placed it on the sideboard. “And that’s why I’m here. A crew from the Silken Door are on their way here to settle your debt. Permanently.”
“The gall of brothel keepers these days. I paid Miss Checkers a healthy installment on my loan just yesterday. I should be in good standing with them until next month at the earliest.”
“The research folio you sold Baron Inkwater was worth quite a bit of dosh and I know you gave some of that to Miss Checkers, but she said that your bill from last night tallies more than your payment. Now you’re even deeper in debt and she’s sent her leg-breakers to make an example of you.”
Drawing myself up, I swallowed the glass of liquid courage and looked Flint in the eye. “Well dammit man, I’ll not wait around for those thugs. I’ve got surprises of my own to show them.”
“Now, now Maestro. Magic and mayhem don’t mix well with hangovers and hair of the dog. Meet me at the Dog and Pony on Culloden Square. Hurry, I wasn’t that far ahead of them!”
Adrenaline kicked into my system, sobering me up in a hurry. I raced upstairs only to find Quellyn buttoning herself into the form-fitting dress she’d worn to go with me on the town last night. My mouth gaped as she smoothed the iridescent dress over her hips. Gathering my wits, I managed to choke out, “Quick, we’ve got to disappear for a little while.”
She laughed, the light glinting malevolently in her dark green eyes. “Whoring debts catching up with you?” She leaned against the foot of the bed, shoulders back, hypnotizing me with her cleavage. “I would have thought that Latimer Godwin would’ve given you lots of money for my research.”
“Well he did…” I caught myself before I confessed too much. Latimer, the Baron Inkwater, had paid handsomely for Quellyn’s drafts but I’d been careful and kept copies...
“YOU BASTARD!!!” she screeched, “You Tychorosian shyte! You scaly dicked eel fucker! I knew it was you!”
“Now Quellyn,” I said as I sidled toward the dresser where I kept my reserve pistol. Magic wasn’t going to be much use against a witch with as much training as my little lover. Ex-lover, it would appear.
“Save your lies, Oz. I know everything. I’ll report you to the Chancellor and the College Provosts. And you can kiss your research grant goodbye, the Starkweather Library won’t touch you with a barge pole.”
Once I saw that she wasn’t intent on physical violence, I threw what clothing and books I could into an old carpet bag and ran. Her shrill invective rang in my ears until I was well down the street.
I huddled in a coffee shop for hours until it was time to meet Flint. From the look and smell of the clientele, the Dog and Pony was a favorite waterhole of Duskvol’s street vendors. I peered about the common room, garnering some odd looks and even odder invitations, when I spotted Flint in a corner booth.
Flint looked pleased to see me, smiling broadly and shaking my hand like a pump handle. “I knew you’d make it, Maestro!” He looked at his companion and guided me into a seat. “Didn’a tell you Monty? The Maestro’s got skills where it counts.” His companion said nothing, but studied me under hooded eyelids.
I couldn’t get a word in edgewise as Flint regaled Monty and I with the destruction of my house at the hands of Miss Checkers’ thugs. “An’ they told me that they took enough of your things to call the debt closed, but you’re never to show your face at the Silken Door again.”
“Flint, my good man,” I said smoothly, trying to piece my dignity back together, “my family has been in Six Towers for generations, noble courtiers in service of the Imperial Crown when Duskvol was a greasy little fishing village.” Anger and pride fueled my ranting. “That town house belonged to my great-grandfather, by Vaskari’s dried up dugs. I was born in there and I’ll not abandon it to some chintzy brothel’s bouncers.”
“No need to worry, sir. Not at all. No. Your brother arrived with the Bluecoats and settled the issue just as the thugs was leaving, ya see.”
I sank into my seat, my defeat was complete. My brother Gonzalo was the greatest leech, the clingiest butt nugget, the greediest freeloader in Duskvol. He would plunder my home more thoroughly than the likes of Miss Checkers could ever imagine. Even my return would only lead to more problems, more lies, and more loss. I was well and truly homeless.
“But don’t you worry, Maestro! Monty here has a proposition that can help you get established. Who knows? This might be the start of your climb back up the social ladder!”
I looked up with a sigh. Monty watched me like a carnivorous animal sizing me up as a meal. “I’m sorry to have to introduce myself under such trying circumstances,” he began, “but I am Montgomery Ingalls and I represent the Dunslough Cartographic Society. The Society has a project underway that our mutual friend Flint tells me that you can be of help with.”
I stayed sober the rest of that afternoon helping Monty find what he needed. His project required me to commune with an ancient Skovlan priestess named Ereshki. She told me where her cult had established an observatory, but Monty didn’t want me to know much more.I wrote down everything she’d told me before he took me to an old eel processing plant in the Dunslough district and I made a new home.
Monty has yet to return from his adventure seeking Ereshki’s observatory, but I’ve settled in quite nicely. I walk the streets of Six Towers now and again, careful to avoid anyone who might recognize me as the former master of an old brownstone in the area. I haven’t seen Quellyn since that day in my bedroom. She found a way to take over my position at the Starkweather Library and is working her way through the grind of academic life.
Maybe one day I’ll return to my old life and deal with those who threw me out of my house. And Gonzalo, the opportunistic shyte sucker, will pay me my due...with interest. Even Evangeline, my latest companion in Lady Teslyn’s boudoir, has remarked upon my musing about places and things I tell her about. But she bears a remarkable resemblance to Quellyn, and my life has been looking up of late, so I’ll keep my eyes open and my mouth shut as I climb back up the social ladder like Flint said.
