Memento Mori: 2

"Tell me what is known," the Hunter said as she followed Rakeh down the unfamiliar streets. With the falling of night, her spirits were lifting, contrasting, she noted, the boy's darkening mood. Rakeh walked with his shoulders slightly hunched, his bright green eyes darting from shadow to shadow. His left hand was hooked in an odd manner -- pinky and index finger extended from a closed fist, as if making a sign for horns. It was, the Hunter realized with some amusement, a clumsy, folksy gesture meant to ward off the evil eye.

"What, you mean like what's going on?" Rakeh looked up at her and frowned. His brow furrowed as if he were weighing a complicated problem. "Information costs extra."

"I see. And this information, it would be accurate and worthy of extra payment?"

"Oh yeah, everything I know, it's the honest truth." He didn't look at her, and when the Hunter fixed him with her gaze, Rakeh began to squirm. "Well, I mean, it's mostly right. Almost mostly right. As far as I know anyway. All right," Rakeh sighed. "It's all rumors, 'kay? But rumors round here're usually true."

The Hunter looked up, to hide her smile as much as to study the position of the stars. They were still heading south, toward the water. "That is that way with most places," she said, and when she was sure her grin was gone, she looked again at her child-guide. It would be unkind to mock him. "A trade, then, information for information. For example, that sign you are making, to ward away evil, yes? It is much more authentic thus." She held up her own left hand in a fist, her pinky finger and thumb extended. It was just as powerless as the sign he had been making, but more traditional among the Rom. Nevertheless, Rakeh corrected his hand and looked at it doubtfully. "And now you, bar."

The boy made stabbing motions with the gesture at a nearby shadow, then nodded, appearing satisfied with his new knowledge. "You're going to see Shadow Thieves, right? There's a turf war going on there. Somethin' about a rival guild getting pushy. People who walk around at night, they get killed all the time. More'n usual. That's what I was telling you before, about it being dangerous out here. Well, that's one reason. Your turn, lady."

"Ah, so that is how we play. Bater. What would you know from me?"

"Um ... okay, I know: What's your name?" Rakeh threaded his way between a vegetable barrow and a unidentifiable body laying across the cobbled path. The Hunter skipped over the body, wrinkling her nose at its foul smell. Not from decay, but strong drink, which she could barely discern from the other fetid scents permeating this district. Obviously, they were now in the city's slums, and she noted with some regret that Rakeh, in his shabby clothes, moved through its dingy streets comfortably, as if he were at home.

In the northwest corner of the district, the Hunter caught sight of a large metal sphere sitting atop a demolished buidling. Around it was gathered a crowd. "What is that?" she asked, pointing at it with her chin.

"What, that? That showed up a few days ago, outta nothin'. Dunno what it is. The Cowlies, they -- "

"A moment. What is this, 'cowlies'?"

"Cowled Wizards. You know, the Mages. THE Mages." Rakeh spoke so earnestly that the Hunter nodded in spite of herself. She only vaugely understood the way Athkatla's politics worked. Even though the city was administered by the mysterious Council of Six, it was rumored that these great mages actually were in command. They also strictly regulated the city's arcane magic users. "Anyway," Rakeh continued, "the Cowlies tried to get in, but they couldn't. They're after some guy, some guy they, y'know, they think can open it. I don't know why. Hey!" he said, "I told you two things. And you didn't answer my question."

This time the Hunter let Rakeh see her grin. "You are Rom, that is evident. You bargain like a cheiftan."

"You're still not answering. What's your name?"

"Faith," the Hunter tsked and shook her head. "Such a rude question to ask of a Rom. To know a name is to hold power over another in your hands. It is not something to give away like candy to children. A better question is this: What are you called." She smiled. "There, that is a proper trade."

"Nu-uh," Rakeh shook his head. "I still don't know your ... er, what you're called."

Walking quickly, they had left the slums, and on the air the Hunter could taste the faint tang of salt air. They were nearing the water. Again, she felt a tremor of homesickness for Waterdeep's shores, for its familiar paths and troubles. Such a strange attachment to a place for a Romany chey to hold. It is a good thing for me to have come to this place, so that I might remember how it feels to roam. Sighing a bit nostalgically, the Hunter straightened the headscarf that covered her head, making sure that only a few locks of her dark hair showed around her pale face. The scarf was the one concession she could make to her heritage, for no decent Romni went into public with her head exposed. But clad now in the black leathers that she had adopted long ago as her uniform in her battle against the night's creatures, a bastard sword on her back and a small sword at her hip, she knew she was nothing like the girl who had left the Rom so many years ago.

"I am a hunter of vampire for Kelemvor," she said finally. "This is all you need to know of me."

"Hey, that's not fair!" Rakeh stopped his forward gait and crossed his arms. The shadows contoured the sharp angles of his thin face, lending a fierceness to his annoyed expression. "I knew that already. Tell me something different."

"I have told you what I can, bar. Let that suffice for now, eh?" The Hunter started forward again, toward the curving path that sloped downward toward the district's depths. Rakeh did not follow, making her turn. "I cannot say more," she said, allowing a hint of apology into her voice, but Rakeh's pout did not go away. "Rakeh," she said sternly, trying to sound like a mother. Still the boy glowered. Finally, the Hunter threw up her hands in resignation. "Can we not continue our journey? I promise, anything you wish, I will tell you. But later."

Rakeh rolled his eyes, still appearing to be the most cheated boy that ever lived. "You promise?"

"Did I not say such words just now?"

"I dunno. You know what they say, that Rom are cheaters and they don't keep their promises." When the Hunter's reddish eyes narrowed, Rakeh hastily added, "Well that's what they say. That's what everybody says."

"That is ... sometimes true," the Hunter said slowly. "But when it is, it is only to gadje, to those who are not Romany. To each other, we speak truth, always." If I had the time, she thought, I could tell this boy much about his heritage. About why our people must do the things we have done. And about why some gadje will always hate whatever is free. She wondered where her people were now. It was late summer, so they would were likely in the north, somewhere near the Dales. Perhaps when her duty to the Shadow Thief's big man was finished, she could pay her people a visit that was long past due. And perhaps, she thought with a glimmer of something that felt akin to hope, she could take the boy with her.

"All right," Rakeh said. He broke into a hesitant smile that revealed many missing teeth. "But you promised."

"So I said. Can we now continue?"

"We don't have to. We're there already." Rakeh pointed over the Hunter's shoulder.

The Hunter turned and beheld a bright orange building bustling with activity. Not a tavern, she saw, which was the usual front for a thieves' guild. Pacing at every possible entrance, weapons in hand, were men and women in dark leathers standing at guard, their dress and manner screaming "thief" to any passerby. Out of the front door stumbled a man and woman dressed in the flamboyant robes of the temple of Lathander, giggling loudly and trailing the pungent and unmistakable scent of black lotus.

"It cannot be," she said, wrinkling her nose at the stoned couple as they passed. When she saw Rakeh's brow furrowed again in annoyance, she said, "That is to say, I find it unlikely. Thieves do not do business so openly."

"Yeah, they do. Why would't they?"

"Such business is usually ... quite clandestine."

"What?"

"Secret."

"Yeah?" Rakeh said curiously. His expression told the Hunter he had no idea what she was talking about. "Why?"

The Hunter opened her mouth to reply, but shut it so quickly she almost bit her tongue. In this district, she realized, was not a single officer of the law. It has been rumoured that the Shadow Thieves have as firm a hold in this city as they do not in Waterdeep. But it is unexpected that they would be so blatant with their power. If they have this freedom, what need have they for me? For the first time since she had received the message from the Shadow Thieves' purported leader, the Hunter began to worry.

"It is different elsewhere," she said finally. "So, this is their lair. Very well. Much can be deduced from observing where a creature sleeps."

"I sleep in the street," Rakeh replied to her musing. "Where do you sleep?"

"I sleep very little," she said absently, then shook herself. "Well then. Shall we?" She indicated the front door. Without replying, Rakeh followed her to the door.

The dark man guarding the door, a Calishite in grey leathers, gripped put his hand on the hilt of his short sword at their approach. He ran his gaze over the Hunter, taking her in from the top of her head to her booted feet, then turned it to Rakeh. Dismissing the boy with a sneer, the man told the Hunter, "You can go in. They're expecting you."

"Are they?" she asked, matching his pose with a hand on the sword at her hip. Not that it would be of use against him. The wooden blade would not cut living flesh. "And you are certain I am whom they seek?"

The guard snorted. "They said look for a vampire lady who'd come right up to the door. I seen vampires round here lots of time, but I haven't seen you. They don't come here."

Vampire? Here? The Hunter could not keep herself from starting. I have heard nothing of vampires in Athkatla, nothing from the House of the Dead. Sheridan has said nothing, and the reports from other clergy have said less. Damn that boy. ... She wiped the consternation from her face and said to the guard, "I am not vampire. But I am the one expected. You will take me to him that leads you."

"I ain't goin' anywhere. You go in, and you'll find where you need to be." When the Hunter started forward, the guard touched her shoulder to stop her. She glared at him, and the low light from the nearby torches picked up the light in her eyes, making them glow red as they sometimes did. He hastily removed his hands. "Just you. No one said anything about a kid."

"I'm not a kid!" Rakeh said in injured tones. "I'm her guide."

The Hunter managed to glare at the guard before he sneered at Rakeh again. "Just you," he mumbled.

From the depths of her coat, the Hunter retrieved a silver penny and flipped it to Rakeh, who caught it deftly. "Eat," she ordered, and was rewarded with an authentic grin. "I will return shortly."

She turned and faced the guard again, and when he stepped away from the door, the Hunter entered the lair of the Shadow Thieves.

---

Glossery:
bar -- brother
bater -- such as it is
gadje -- one who is not Rom
chey -- girl
Romni -- Romany woman