Page 9 of Elixir of Strife
Divina shrugged. “There’s just no accounting for good taste.”
“People don’t like being poisoned, Divina. Now, if that’s all, I’ll just be on my way. Congrats on muscling another small business out of this neighborhood.”
“I’m sure they had very good reasons for giving up their lease and selling their equipment to me for very, very cheap.” Her heels clicked again as she trotted closer, giggling as she spoke under her breath. “And what were they supposed to do when big, mean men came loitering near closing time?”
Acquisition via intimidation. Divina had clearly thrown her personal cadre of Brillante thugs at the bakery, scaring the previous owners.
“You never changed,” I said, making for the exit once more.
Her hand landed on my shoulder. I glowered at it, up into her face. She never wavered, only showing me that dazzling, artificial smile.
“Wait a moment, Maximo. I have something you might be interested in. A job. Hmm? Perfect for a finder like you.”
I froze in place. She’d hit me right in my weakest point. Divina was an insufferable snob and an overall nasty person, but my professional curiosity took precedence over everything else.
She chuckled, like she knew she’d just gained the upper hand. “I mean, as a finder, you probably should be finding all the work that you can. I honestly don’t know how you do it. Imagine leaving behind a life of luxury, just so you can become a gopher for a — what do you call your masters again? Yes. A spider.”
My nose wrinkled. “I’m not a gopher. My work is challenging and important. It’s the same for all finders. And the spiders aren’t our masters. They’re the middlemen. We’re just — we’re the independent contractors.”
She covered her mouth, stifling a fake, exaggerated yawn. “Oh my God, next you’re going to start whining to me about your healthcare situation. I don’t care. Listen. About that job. It’s very juicy, and very profitable for us both. Of course, it’s going to take a strong stomach, and I have my doubts. You did leave the Brillante clan behind, and — ”
I turned to face her, frowning so hard that it made her flinch and back up a step. Good.
“I had my reasons for leaving. I couldn’t keep doing the shit you and the rest of the clan seem to be so proud of. Now. Tell me what the job is.” I stood with my legs apart, arms crossed as I stared her down, sick of the constant snipes. “Tell me, or I walk.”
Divina sighed. “Yes. Walk. Your favorite thing, it seems. Very well then.”
She looked to either side, making sure that no one else was listening. I raked a hand through my hair in frustration. Seriously, with all these dramatics. Finally, she leaned in, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Tell me,primo. Have you heard of an evil olive?”
5
LEON
At the docks, they told us, those unlikely business partners at Succulence. At the docks, we’d find a warehouse, unwarded and unguarded, at least by magical means. One of the smaller ones. Best to visit by night, they said, just in case.
That was when Max and I were planning to do it, anyway. We met at his apartment, just as we’d discussed, though he did seem grumpier than usual. A little hungrier, too, so much so that he’d even tucked into one of the instant ramen cups I’d left at his place. Like a toothbrush, almost.
And yes, I’d left one of those over, too.
“That one,” Max said, his breath misting in the cold night air. He pointed at himself, then at me, then at the nondescript building that looked like it’d been built into the others as an afterthought. A side office, almost, an addition.
I shrugged in my own jacket against the coolness of the wall at my back, frowning at him. “Listen, this signaling with your fingers business. Is this going to be a regular thing? Because I’m going to have to unsubscribe.”
He scoffed. “First I’ve heard you complain about them. You’re usually pretty happy when I finger you. Positively screaming with delight, even.”
The hot flush of my cheeks melted the chill of the night. I would have smacked him one if it wouldn’t alert the night shift workers. We’d parked a fair distance from the docks, walked the rest of the way. The better to draw the least amount of attention to ourselves.
In retrospect, Roscoe’s little training exercise that morning had been a good thing. He’d actually helped us prepare by recreating a non-domestic setting. I hadn’t exactly done a whole ton of finding jobs, but the vast majority of them had involved infiltrating homes.
My finding targets could be in the living spaces of the less magically inclined. Normal folk, like the Smiths who didn’t realize that they’d come across a bag of rare and valuable quickening sand. But it was usually modern mages who kept their valuables locked tight in their studies. For the most part, that was where these magical objects belonged.
Ancient grimoires, for example, tomes of magic or books of shadows that were penned by the hands of long-dead sorcerers and witches. Once it was a feathery quill pen that never ran out of ink. Very harmless, low-grade magic, but quite convenient in stationery savings over the course of a lifetime.
But this? A warehouse? First time for everything. I let Max take the lead — knowing, of course, that he wouldn’t have it any other way. I crept after him as he went through a series of increasingly complicated hand gestures. Good thing he didn’t actually use those in most of his magic or he could have accidentally set off a fireball or something.
He did, however, cast the one spell that definitely mattered, especially as we drew closer to our target building.
