Chapter 24: Chapter 24: Bait and Switch

Chapter 24: Bait and Switch

“This is chump change compared to what we could get for the whore,” Philus said for the tenth time that day. He hadn’t let it go for a minute, and his boys were well sick of it by this point. He couldn’t help that it was true, and as far as he was concerned Philus needed to keep saying it. Maybe one of these times it would sink in.

“Fuck off,” Markus groaned, covering his face with a hand. He dragged the hand down, stretching out his face comically before jabbing a finger in Philus’ direction. “We’re not doing it, Phil. We tried, we failed. Let’s focus on the current job.”

The current job was Gregor’s favorite. The lunk wasn’t skulking in an alley behind houses like Markus and Philus. Gregor was standing in front of the house, and at any moment now he’d bellow like an enraged beetle and get the attention of every house in a hundred feet radius. While he kept them occupied, Philus would sneak in and take everything he could get. Gregor might get to enjoy a quick fight, and then they’d be off before anyone was the wiser.

“This current job is shit,” Philus insisted. “How can you not want a chance at 13 aquilos a piece?”

“Keep your voice down,” Markus hissed, looking around. His own part in the plan was security. Namely, making sure no one came poking around after he helped boost Philus through the window. “It’s not a question of how many shards we can get. You know that. We’ve been over this. It’s about logistics for fuck’s sakes.”

Markus was talking to him like he was a child. Philus’ face heated up. This was like talking to a brick wall for all the good it was doing him. “What logistics?” He said, much quieter. “All we got is one moonkissed freak to worry about. We deal with him, we got her.”

“There’s the moonkissed freak,” Markus said, holding up one finger. Then more as he counted, “and trying to get close to her to begin with, and transporting the bitch four hours south, and making sure the watch doesn’t stop us. Should I go on? Forget it, Phil. We’ve got shit we’re good at. Let’s stick to that.”

Philus bit back a harsh reply. Markus and Gregor lacked vision. That’s why he was the leader. They couldn’t see past their noses, into tomorrow. Into a better life. They were content being rats, scrabbling for whatever scraps they could take from people. And it’s not like it wasn’t fun. But why not go for more, instead of settling for being scavengers? Philus had teeth, and he was ready to use them.

“You good for nothing SLUT,” Gregor bellowed from the other side of the house. It was sunset, right when the people inside were likely to be home from work and getting ready to eat. They didn’t exactly case houses individually so much as check out neighborhoods in general. The city was big enough that they didn’t often have to hit the same neighborhood twice, when they took a break from mugging to rob people instead.

“You ready to go, or are you going to keep arguing?” Markus demanded, nearly getting punched for it.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Philus said through clenched teeth. Markus was forgetting himself and getting a little too bold. Maybe that should’ve told Philus something, but all it did was piss him off.

Markus moved up against the back of the house and crouched, interlocking his fingers. He looked expectantly at Philus, as if daring him to argue more. Yeah, this was going to be a problem if ignored. Philus took a breath to steady himself and stepped into Markus’ hands. Markus boosted him up so he could open the shutters and climb through the window.

His feet touched down on a bed, and he almost slipped on the pillow. Philus caught himself and took a look around. Whoever lived here was definitely not rich. Most people weren’t, but there was always something they treasured, something they wouldn’t want to lose. With any luck, those things were worth a few shards. If not, Philus was content just taking from someone else.

Philus removed a bag from his waist and got to work. In went the loose shards around the bedside, and in the little chest underneath the bed. Hope they had other stashes, it was his money now. Next came the man’s boots, which were nice and looked to be roughly Philus’ size. Philus found the woman of the house’s jewelry box. She’d have to start her collection over. It was hard not to whistle as he scooped more and more into the bag. It was already full and there were still things left to steal. Philus jiggled the bag to make room for more.

“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT IF YOU SAW HER FIRST, SHE’S MY BITCH NOW!” Gregor roared, with the sound of fists slamming on wood giving Philus a surprised jolt. He laughed under his breath, giddy with the thrill of committing a crime. The smile on his face vanished when the door to the bedroom opened and a little girl came in.

She didn’t see him at first. She rushed through the door, pulling the doorknob closed behind her and stared at the door fearfully. Philus froze in place. The little girl shook with quiet, tiny sobs. Philus cursed under his breath. Most of the time he got in and out before anyone was the wiser, he hadn’t thought about a kid. She probably saw her old man get punched out by Gregor and ran for safety. Philus backed up slowly, creeping away from the door until the back of his legs hit the bed. So did the big bag of stolen goods. The shards at the bottom clinked together.

The girl whirled around on him. Philus grimaced. She stared at him, wide eyed. He put a finger to his lips. Please don’t make noise, he silently implored her. This is all just a misunderstanding.

“Moooooom!” The little girl shrieked.

“Oh fuck you,” Philus hissed at the child. He jumped on the bed and heaved the heavy bag out the window. It landed with a loud crash of the family’s junk clanking together. The door burst open, and a young, scared looking woman popped her head in. Seeing Philus, she screamed for her husband. The game was up. Philus scrambled to get through the window.

He was halfway through and ready to pull himself all the way out when someone grabbed him by his feet and yanked on him. If he hadn’t already been clinging to the edge, Philus would’ve been dragged back and in for a beating. “Oy, don’t just stand there!” he called.

Markus finished scooping the fallen contents of the bag back in and jumped, clasping Philus’ forearms. He anchored himself against the wall and pulled with all of his might. There was an agonizing couple of seconds of resistance, then Philus shot forward, crashing into Markus. They tumbled to the ground together before scrabbling to their feet. Philus grabbed the bag and took off, just as an angry face appeared in the window. He wouldn’t be following though. Not without his boots!

Philus put two fingers in his mouth and blew a loud, sharp whistle to signal to Gregor that they were out of there. It was safer and easier to split up, especially with their attention already split. He nodded to Markus and they parted ways, disappearing into the labyrinthine streets of the city. Out of sight, impossible to catch, and guaranteed to win out. Another job well done.

They met back up an hour later, in the grimy run down inn Philus called home, so north you could see the start of the tent city from its porch. This was their territory. This inn and the street leading up to it were the places Philus and his boys called home. Their throne, their best source of respect and tribute.

“You bastards back already?” said Eva, Philus’ aunt and owner of this fine establishment. She was a short but powerfully built woman with dirty blonde hair and endless freckles that made her look younger. “What, did you come running home with your tails tucked, boys?”

Philus hefted up the sack for her to see. “Not today, Auntie. We got a haul and we’re gonna go out for more. We’re ravenous sharks and the city’s our feast!” he crowed, slamming it down on his table. He sat down and opened the top.

“Really?” Eva sounded torn between disbelief and interest. “What did you rob? A stall? A merchant? A bank?” She came around behind him, putting her hand on his shoulder, craning her head to get a better look.

“Naw, some couple’s house.” Philus pulled out the nice leather boots and took a good look at them. “We would’ve gotten more but their baby brat saw me and screamed bloody murder. I should’ve obliged her.”

“You should’ve obliged by killing a child?” Eva said in disbelief. She smacked him upside the head. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Hey,” Philus flinched away from her. “I wasn’t really gonna. That’d get me sent to the Colosseum.” Philus made a face. “I’m not that dumb, Auntie.”

“I’m not convinced.”

Philus sighed. “Bring me a drink. Please,” he added, after her glare threatened to burn a hole through him. He upended the bag and looked at the spoils. Normally he was supposed to wait for the other two to split the loot. It was to ensure that none of them palmed a piece or shard for themself before divvying the rest up. Not that any of them would screw their own brother over, Philus thought as he prepared to use the loot to manipulate both his brothers.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Normally they split everything up by roughly equal value or desire. Shards were passed out evenly, and they took turns calling dibs on anything interesting. It almost entirely prevented fighting over things when each of them thought they were getting one over the others, so they kept it brotherly. And that was key to Philus’ plan. He made three piles on the table, splitting the shards into two piles, the boots and some fine silk in Philus’ pile, and each of them got a piece of jewelry. And alongside the boots was a rock etched with intricate, if crude, designs. He’d made them himself.

It was only another ten minutes until Markus and Gregor came through the door together. Philus awaited them in a chair he had up on two legs, leaning against the wall. “Welcome welcome, lads. Come check out our glorious haul.”

Markus stopped short, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You went through everything without us.” It was half question, half accusation. Gregor pushed past him and loomed over the table.

“You trying to pull anything?” Gregor said, more than happy to be straight about it.

Philus held up his hands in surrender. “No, of course not. I’d never do that to my boys. I just got here first and thought I’d save you guys some time. I just saw something I had to have and called my dibs on some junk I liked. No big deal.” He offered his best disarming smile.

“Beetleshit,” Markus scoffed, looking over the table. “You’ve got an angle here. I know it.”

Philus shook his head. “No angle. You’ve been pissy with me all day, Markus. I think you got a problem with me and’re just using this as an excuse.”

Markus bared his teeth. This had been building over the last several days, since they went to the Silk Lounge and got their asses kicked thanks to Philus leading them there and Gregor’s inability to shut up. Somehow, Markus blamed Philus for that too. And then there’d been finding where Razia was holed up, only to be denied by her protector. Maybe now was the right time for them to have it, if the loot didn’t work.

“Hey, what’s this?” Gregor took the bait and lifted the carved, polished rock from Philus’ loot pile. He turned it around, thumb tracing over the intricate lines engraved all over the surface.

The tension abated, though Markus still glared balefully at the side of his vision at Philus. Philus took the rock from Gregor and held it up for them all to see. “I’ve not no idea. I found it with the other stuff, near a big loose pile of shards. I think it might be magic. I heard of this one guy with a rock that found dropped money. Money people lost and forgot about it, it’d take you right there.”

Gregor looked at the rock with renewed wonder. His big blue eyes were faraway, lost in dreams of possibility and greed. Philus fought to keep his face neutral. That was one of them hooked. “But you don’t actually know it’s magic,” said Markus, unimpressed. Gregor’s eyes lost their luster. He set the rock down and crossed his arms.

“I felt an odd tingle when I first picked it up,” Philus lied, shrugging. “If you don’t like how I’ve divided things up, I’m open to alternatives.

Markus eyed him for a second longer. He took the boots from Philus’ side. “You’ve been wanting new boots for a while,” Markus said, inspecting them closely. He plopped them down to his side and scooped up most of the shards and put them in Philus’ pile. “So I think I’ll take them.”

If he thought it would piss the boss off...he was mostly right. Even knowing what he was doing, Philus felt a spike of anger at his friend’s behavior. Sure, this is exactly what he wanted, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting. He looked away from him. “And you, Gregor? You happy with what you got, or you gonna bust my balls too?”

That did it. Gregor glowered at him and put the stone in his pocket. He tossed the pile of shards over to Philus. He and Markus still had their share of the jewelry and a few qala pieces, but now the majority of the liquid assets belonged solely to Philus. Mission accomplished. “This better be real magic,” Gregor grumbled.

Philus forced a sigh and leaned forward, scooping all the shards into his lap. He didn’t like cheating his boys, but they were getting away from him right when they were so close he could practically taste their payday. This would help with the next phase of the plan to get Razia down south. Philus looked up to see both his friends watching him.

“What?” He asked, eyes darting between them.

“What now, oh fearless leader?” Markus asked him pointedly. “That’s one job done. How about treating us to dinner and telling us what comes next?”

“I could eat,” said Gregor, to the surprise of no one. If there was ever a time Gregor couldn’t eat, it was when he was asleep and likely dreaming of his next good meal.

“Then get something to eat,” Philus said, standing up. “I’ve got more work ahead that you two have made clear you want nothing to do with.”

He was answered with a chorus of aggravated groans. “Phils, brother,” Markus said, incredulous, “let it go. We’re not gonna be able to get her. Not while she’s got that moonkissed lunatic at her side.”

“I could take him,” Gregor muttered.

“What if we could get to her when he’s not around?” Philus asked, grinning. “What if I’ve set up surveillance around the area and know her movements now, eh?” He spread his hands, inviting the compliments and praise he was due.

“So, you’re paying a couple of kids to watch and follow her,” said Markus.

Philus kept his face from falling with great effort. “You don’t know that.”

“C’mon Gregor,” Markus sighed, grabbing his new boots and standing up. “Let’s get something to eat.”

“Think the noodle place is still pissed at us? We could blame it on him.” They were halfway out the door when Philus cried out.

“WAIT! One more chance!” Philus fell out of the chair and onto his knees. “One more attempt and if this one doesn’t work, I’ll drop it entirely.”

They stopped in the doorway. All around the inn, people were staring but Philus didn’t care. He wasn’t too much of a coward to say he was desperate. It wasn’t the help he found himself needing, but their faith. They had their tussles and everyone beat their chest and roared sometimes, but they’d never given up on him before now.

“Well?” Markus demanded after several long seconds of silence. Sighing, he returned to the table, Gregor bringing up the rear. “What’s the plan?”

The first part of the plan caused a stir, and was nearly a nonstarter. Over the course of a particularly chilly winter, Philus had begun to question the necessity of walking around everywhere shirtless, but Gregor in particular loved to walk around, displaying his tattoos and muscles for all to see. While it was great to intimidate the people they shook down, it also marked them. In the end, Markus and Gregor agreed to wear shirts to hide who they were.

They likely wouldn’t have if the second part of the plan didn’t solve at least three of Markus’ biggest concerns. Their first stop was an alchemist with loose morals and a seedy reputation. From there Philus exchanged most of his shards for a little vial with a dark green liquid inside it. “Just remember,” he said in a creaky voice, “if whoever takes this dies, it’s not my fault, or my problem.”

“Naturally,” said Philus, taking it and stuffing it in his pocket. The alchemist flinched and pointed at Philus’ side. “Be careful with that. If that breaks the fumes themselves could take you under. Not my problem, unless your dumb ass breaks it here.” He slammed the door on them, the muffled sound of his cackles fading fast.

Gregor shuddered. “Maybe this is a bit much,” he said to the surprise of both of them.

“Better this than trying to fight our way to her and drag her struggling ass the entire way through,” Markus countered. Philus’ heart swelled. Markus believed their plan could work. He’d be done if he didn’t legitimately believe in it a little.

“At least that’s honest,” Gregor mumbled, but it was half hearted at best.

The second stop was to the Boulevard of Saint Trassius, not far from where Razia and the moonkissed were. Against his better judgement, Philus believed that one of them really did live there. He hadn’t at first. Why would an upper end neighborhood allow in a freak like that? Maybe he was muscle for hire for someone inside, but that wasn’t it. Their second stop was proof that whatever the situation, they were there long term.

“Hey there Casey,” Philus greeted a kid on the verge of puberty. “Keep your eyes open for me?”

“You got your purse open for me?” Casey countered, voice breaking badly halfway through. The kid leaned against the corner of the local Fleetfoot station. It was a great place for information, a neutral place where even idiots like Gregor wouldn’t start a fight without thinking real hard about it. All money changing hands here was honest in the eyes of the gods, or else.

Philus held up a qala piece and dropped it into the kid’s bag. “One for now. You’ll get the rest on giving me something I could use.”

“Fine.” Casey rolled his eyes. “Your woman went south about thirty minutes ago, then east. She and her friend --”

“She wasn’t alone?” Markus butted in, grimacing.

Casey held up his bag and jingled it. Markus nudged Philus, who gave him a pointed look. Markus sighed, nodded, and dropped a qala piece in the bag. “Yeah, she had a friend with her. A fat redhead with huge tits.”

“Hey, that’s our girls,” Gregor perked up. “Where did you say they went?”

“I didn’t,” Casey sneered, holding up his bag again. Philus and Markus stared at Gregor until he too paid the kid. “Your woman and her friend went to The Fighting Beetles. Dunno if they’re still there. I came back and waited for the rest of my money.”

“That’s all you’re getting for now,” said Philus. “Hey,” He held up a finger to stop the kid’s angry retort. “I need the rest for tonight. If my plan works, I’ll come back and pay you double what I owe you.” He gave his best winning smile.

The kid just sneered at him again and walked away. Under his breath he muttered, “Wanderer shit on you all.”

Philus turned to his boys and spread his arms, as if to say “See? I got this!” Markus and Gregor groaned, making faces, but they were smiling before too long. “Shall we go bag us a bounty, boys?”