The Price of Passage

Lenspear was not a city; it was a sprawling, man-made beast of stone, smoke, and noise. The walls were immense, far larger than Raven's, scarred with age but meticulously maintained. At the main gate, a line of merchants, travelers, and mercenaries snaked back for what seemed like a mile. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, overworked animals, and the cloying aroma of exotic spices.

"Stay close," Asverta said, her voice a calm island in the sea of chaos. She navigated the crowd with an effortless grace, Mu sticking to her side like a shadow, his white eyes wide with a mixture of awe and apprehension.

The guards at the gate were a study in practiced apathy. They wore the insignia of the Merchant Council—a golden scale—but their armor was dented and their gazes were greedy. They didn't check for contraband or ask for papers; they simply held out a gloved hand. Asverta, without a word, dropped a few silver coins into the guard's palm. He barely glanced at them before waving us through with a grunt.

Corruption, streamlined for maximum efficiency, I thought. A system built on predictable human greed. In its own way, it's more stable than any kingdom built on honor.

The moment we stepped past the gate, the noise level tripled. The main thoroughfare was a river of people. Merchants shouted their wares from colorful stalls, mercenaries with scarred faces sized up potential employers, and street urchins darted through the crowd like fish. The architecture was a chaotic mix of styles—grand stone buildings plastered with garish advertisements next to rickety wooden tenements leaning against each other for support. It was a city choking on its own prosperity.

"Where are we going?" I asked, raising my voice to be heard over the din.

"A meeting," Asverta replied, her eyes scanning the crowd. "An old acquaintance has a job for us. A simple escort mission. It pays well."

"Simple missions rarely pay well," I pointed out.

A faint, knowing smile touched her lips. "You're learning, Mori. Our meeting is at a tavern called 'The Gilded Lily'. Try to look... approachable."

The Gilded Lily was exactly as tacky as its name suggested. The interior was all polished dark wood, red velvet cushions, and gaudy golden fixtures that were probably just painted brass. It was crowded and loud, filled with merchants making deals in hushed, conspiratorial tones. Asverta found an empty booth in a dark corner and we sat down.

We didn't have to wait long. A man approached our table, weaving through the crowd with the confidence of someone who owned the place. He was large, both in height and girth, dressed in flamboyant silk robes of purple and gold. A dozen rings adorned his thick fingers, and a wide, practiced smile was plastered on his face.

"Asverta, my dear! As radiant as ever!" he boomed, his voice a little too loud for the setting. He spread his arms wide as if expecting an embrace.

Asverta did not stand. "Boru," she said, her tone perfectly level. "You're looking well-fed."

The man, Boru, let out a hearty laugh and squeezed into the booth opposite us. His eyes, small and sharp like a pig's, darted from Asverta to Mu, and finally, to me. "And you've brought new friends! A pleasure, a pleasure! Boru, at your service. Purveyor of fine goods and profitable opportunities!" He gave me a wink that felt entirely insincere.

"This is Mori," Asverta said. "He's with me. Now, let's skip the pleasantries. You said you had a job."

"Always straight to business! I love it!" Boru clapped his hands together. "Yes, a job. A simple matter of transport. I have a... package. A very precious, very fragile package that needs to get to the city of Oakhaven. The roads are a bit... unruly at the moment. I need a reliable escort to ensure it arrives in one piece."

"What kind of unruly?" I asked, cutting in.

Boru's smile didn't falter, but his eyes sharpened. "Ah, the quiet one speaks! Astute. Very astute. There have been some... disagreements. Between the Royal Knights and some rogue mages. Nothing a capable group such as yours can't handle. A few skirmishes, that's all."

Lies, I thought. He's downplaying the danger. The battle we saw was more than a skirmish. And he hasn't mentioned what the package is.

"And the package?" Asverta asked, her voice calm, as if she'd been following my exact train of thought.

"Ah, the contents!" Boru leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Let's just say it's a piece of... historical art. Extremely valuable to a private collector in Oakhaven. Highly sensitive. Best if it travels without too much official notice, if you catch my meaning."

He was asking us to smuggle something. Something valuable enough that someone—the Royal Knights, the Arcane Order, or both—would fight over it.

"The pay?" Asverta asked, her expression unreadable.

Boru named a figure. It was high. High enough to be tempting. High enough to be dangerous.

"We'll need half upfront," Asverta stated. It wasn't a question.

Boru's smile widened. "Of course, of course! A sign of good faith!" He reached into his robes and produced a heavy pouch of gold, sliding it across the table. The sound of the coins clinking together was obscene. "The package leaves at dawn tomorrow. Meet me at the eastern warehouse district, Dock 7. My men will have the wagon ready."

He stood, gave another booming laugh, and disappeared back into the crowd.

I looked at Asverta. "We're taking the job."

"We are," she confirmed, pocketing the gold. "We need the money, and we need to build a reputation in this city. This is how it's done."

"It's a risk," I said. "He's not telling us everything."

"Of course he isn't," she replied, her white eyes meeting mine. A flicker of something hard, something pragmatic, shone in their depths. "That's what makes it interesting. Welcome to Lenspear, Mori."