Gastho wasn’t anywhere to be found when Arthur appeared on the sidewalk outside The Multiverse Mall.
He tried not to let the disappointment show as he joined the crowd moving towards the mall’s entrance. All around him, dragons and other creatures swarmed as they happily chatted away. It made him wonder what problems they faced.
After his run-ins with Rathnil, he had a feeling the goddess wasn’t making any of this easy for anyone.
The thought of Rathnil made him scan the crowd for Gastho again on the off chance. When he couldn’t spot him, he sighed. It seemed he’d need to find another source of information, after all.
“I wonder if there is some sort of information broker listed in the directory?” Arthur thought as he stepped through the sliding glass doors.
Before he could get used to the noise dampening the wards provided, a large scaled hand grabbed his shoulder. When he looked up and around, he saw a familiar face—Security Officer Zerreon.
Large, bloodshot eyes filled with hate jumped between glaring at Arthur and watching the crowd. The dragon was no longer dressed as a security officer. Casual, if soiled, clothes replaced his previous riot gear. It took all he had not to mention the sauce stain on the stretched out T-shirt.
“You,” Zerreon breathed quietly, pulling him close as he spoke.
His breath smelled strongly of booze, and from the way he swayed, Arthur could tell Zerreon was wasted. He couldn’t help but frown as he looked up at the dragon.
“Was he waiting for me? Or did he teleport in? Pydes never mentioned anything about the security team being punished.”
“Me,” Arthur said, doing his best to sound friendly.
Zerreon nodded, as though grateful to hear the confirmation of his statement. He swayed, his wings spreading slightly to help stabilize him. The surrounding dragons gave him a wide berth. When they made eye contact with Arthur, they looked away hurriedly.
It made him wonder if they knew who Zerreon was or were simply embarrassed that the dragon they thought was his guide was such a mess.
Arthur attempted to dislodge himself from the claw, but it wouldn’t budge. In fact, it tightened, and so he stopped trying to break away. Instead, he tried a different tactic.
“Did you want something?”
Zerreon blinked slowly before he bared his teeth. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming as he growled out his next words.
“You know what I want. What I wanted. You got me fired. That stupid stunt with the stupid bunny. I should kill you.”
The claw tightened further, and Arthur winced. He refused to break eye contact, though. Not willing to allow himself to be seen as cowering.
He stared into the drunkard’s eyes and gave a snarl of his own.
“You tried to shake me down and lost. Go ahead, hurt me. See what security does to you, then.”
The claw on his shoulder loosed—not enough to let him go, but enough that it no longer hurt. Zerreon nodded. Far gone he might be, but as ex-security, he knew the potential risks. Arthur figured that was at least a start. Besides, he had something on his wish list he wanted to talk about.
Rathnil’s, and subsequently Greenwine’s, counterfeiting operation had worked because they bribed mall security. As an active participant in the scheme, he’d know. Thus, Arthur figured it couldn’t hurt to try to pump him for information.
He simply needed to get him on his own. Then he remembered the little pretzel place Gastho took him to. One with good privacy wards.
“I have a deal for you if you’re interested. How would you like some of the last remaining product?”
Zerreon’s eyes sharpened, and he nodded before pulling Arthur even closer. Rough scales scraped his arms, but he ignored the discomfort. His attention focused on what the dragon was saying.
“You have some?”
“Sure do,” Arthur said. “You know Pyro’s Pretzels?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s talk there. I could go for a meal, and you need something in you to sober up.”
“That’s a myth,” Zerreon said with a snort.
Arthur shrugged. “Do you care?”
“You buying?”
“Yes.”
For a moment, he thought the dragon would say no, anyway. Instead, he nodded and shoved him forward.
“Alright then, let’s go.”
Arthur tried not to let the pleased expression cross his face as he let himself be manhandled toward the information kiosks. Zerreon bullied his way through groups, not apologizing to anyone.
They got annoyed looks, but no one stopped them. Upon reaching the room with the information kiosks, Zerreon plugged into their destination, and they were gone in a flash of light.
***
“Have you eaten here before?”
Arthur nodded to the waiter, a young male dragon with a posh accent this time. Zerreon still clutched at his shoulder as though afraid he’d bolt.
“Yes. Table for two. Are the privacy wards still the same?”
“Yes, sir,” the waiter said, before turning to lead them in.
Zerreon’s agitation was palpable by the time they reached their seats. His twitching had gotten worse, and the waiter simply dropped the menus and left them to it. Arthur watched them leave, waiting to see what his companion would ask first. He didn’t disappoint.
“Well? Do you have them?” Zerreon snapped as he clutched at the side of the table.
Arthur leaned back in his seat as he noticed the desperation in the dragon’s eyes. “I do. But not for free.”
“I could rip you apart!”
“But you won’t,” Arthur said as he held up a hand. “Not if you want access to my stash. Let’s dispense with the threats and talk business.”
Pride filled him at that line. He remembered reading it somewhere. From the way Zerreon twitched, he knew he was safe. All the power in this conversation was in his hands. The pale heat filled him with that knowledge. A smile crept onto his face.
“Would you like to order?”
“I want those cores!” Zerreon snapped, but he didn’t make any more aggressive statements.
Arthur nodded. “Order first, and then we’ll talk. You answer some questions for me, and I’ll give you one.”
A scowl met his words, but he did as he asked. Arthur got a simple one filled with chocolate. Zerreon ordered a monstrosity covered in twelve different toppings, including protein powder. It looked foul, but he paid for both without complaint.
After quiring food, he took a bite and savored the texture. However, he didn’t take too long. As confident as he currently felt, he didn’t think it would be wise to push Zerreon too far.
“First question,” Arthur said as he put down the pretzel. “The counterfeiting stuff. How high up the chain did it go?”
Zerreon licked some cream cheese off his claws before he answered. “My boss knew. We all did. Anyone who didn’t want to be involved got kicked to the curb. I’m pretty sure he still has a crate of the things, the bastard. Gives it to his favorites.”
“Alright. Who does he answer to? Who owns the mall?”
“Like, who runs the place?” Zerreon frowned. “Mother does. I mean, there’s some dragon who keeps an eye on the day-to-day. Thraksor? I don’t have anything to do with him. Dunno if he knew. I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“All the way up then. Not a shock, really. The question, I guess, is why? What did they get out of it?” The thoughts swirled in his head, but he tried not to let on what he was thinking. Someone like Zerreon wouldn’t have those answers.
“Thraksor,” Arthur repeated. “How would one talk to him?”
That earned him a laugh that sprayed crumbs across the tables. “You don’t. He only deals with people from the head office. Even my boss doesn’t deal with him directly. Sends him memos. No one sees him. Them’s the rules.”
Zerreon continued stuffing his face as Arthur considered that.
“No one? Not in any situation.”
“Someone set fire to a stall, and he didn’t get involved with that. I’m pretty sure he searches people out, not the other way around.” Zerreon paused, looking gleeful. “I heard he worked pretty hard to cover up your little mess. Why I got fired. I complained too much.”
Arthur nodded, trying to puzzle out why they’d bother trying to cover it up. He supposed it was so word wouldn’t get back to Epyrth. But if Wilth was blocking messages from Pydes, it seemed like it wouldn’t be hard to stop Epyrth from finding out about the mall.
“Unless she personally gets reports from Thraksor? I suppose that would make sense. Anyone who ran this place would have access to a lot of money. If it were me, I would want them to be explaining everything in person.”
“Thanks, Zerreon,” Arthur said before he finished the last bite of his pretzel. “Do you know if the counterfeit coins are still showing up?”
Zerreon shook his head. “No. Marble, some tinkerer chick, made a machine to detect them. Is charging people a mint to have it go through their stock. People find out you’re paying in those, and things will go badly.”
His wings twitched, and he leaned forward. Eyes wide and eager. “I’ve told you all I know. Can I have it now?”
“One last question,” Arthur promised as he pushed his plate away. “Would you be amenable to earning more cores?”
“Yes. What do you need?” Zerreon nodded.
Another smile crossed Arthur’s face. “I don’t know yet. But I’m sure you can give me a way to keep in touch.”
He tried not to look smug as he opened his inventory and pulled out a core. With delicate movements, he placed it on the table and watched as Zerreon scooped it up in a frenzied haste. Before he could blink, the dragon stuffed it into his mouth. As he chewed, wisps of purple smoke poured out of the side of his mouth.
“Thanks,” Arthur said as he pulled out his card to pay for the meal.
Zerreon didn’t appear to notice, but as he stood up from the table, the dragon reached into a pocket. He pulled out what appeared to be a business card and tossed it across the table. Arthur snatched it up and placed it in his wallet.
“I’ll be in touch then.”
With a means of communication gained, he left the table to walk to the front of the restaurant to leave. He didn’t mind that Zerreon didn’t seem to care. The heat permeated him as he thought about the fact that he’d gained another employee. Even if he needed to pay them a bit differently.
With a flash of light, he was gone.
***
“Exquisite, isn’t it?”
Arthur nodded as he stood before a simple stall in Seller’s Alley. The place caught his eye when he saw the wooden furniture on display. Miniature versions that the proprietor claimed were for show. They would be the proper size once they he sent them to their buyer.
When he wandered over, he caught sight of a fancy cane. Made from polished wood tinged green that he didn’t recognize, but that the proprietor claimed was common on his world. The crafter had designed the top of the cane to curve over like a claw.
“A little on the nose,” Arthur thought as he ran a hand over the smooth wood. “But considering the customer base. It makes sense.”
“Kalthrak?” He asked the feathered bird-like creature that sat behind the counter. “How much?”
“For you? A bargain. Two hundred Pennies.” Kalthrak let out a cheeping noise that Arthur took as a laugh.
He almost choked at the price. That would be more than he spent on all the safety equipment combined. A large humanoid mole sold them for cheap, claiming they were old versions. They looked exactly like the ones Arthur remembered seeing on his old world.
“Be reasonable. For one walking stick? Is it magic? Enchanted? Unbreakable? Some high-tech weapon?”
Kalthrak let out the cheeping noise once more. “It’s made from a wood you’ve never seen before. Unbreakable? No. Enchanted? Also, no. But it is more sturdier than most metals, and the design is quite exquisite.”
“A single claw? Not that impressive.”
“Tell you what,” Kalthrak said. “You seem a discerning customer. One hundred and fifty, and I’ll engrave your name on it. Make it personalized. That, my friend, is true customer service. A salesman’s touch you wouldn’t get anywhere else.”
Arthur couldn’t help but smile as he reached out to grab the talon they offered. “You have a deal.”
The engraving process didn’t take long, and he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. It sat in his hand, the perfect weight. While it wasn’t the same as his old trust pipe, it held a power of its own. Fancy enough to set expectations without being ostentatious.
There was a bounce in his step as he moved back toward the entrance of Seller’s Alley. This had been a successful trip. A state of affairs he hoped would continue. He had a new name now, Thraksor, one he could ask Pydes about when he got back from The Assembly.
As he thought about the trip, he subconsciously gripped the cane tighter as the light whisked him away.386Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJCJ9wIVtLP
