Barnaby the Wanderer

Chapter 33: Has he not a Rogue's Face?

"Look brooding and scary," whispered Bodkin.

"Me?"

"You. I'm the talker. You're the nasty bruiser at my back, wary for trouble."

Barnaby nodded. "Very well, then." He stood tall, stretching shoulders till leather armor creaked, working mouth and eyes into a scowl that said dangerous.

Bodkin turned attention to the bearded man, the girl in red. These creatures observed the boys from the comfort of above and beyond the pit.

"Let's start with proper introduction," declared Bodkin. Crossing arms, voice confident as king in the kitchen. "I'm Jack Knife. This here is my associate Mr. Axe. You?"

The man and girl gave no answer. They began casually circling the pit, towards a platform with a table and lantern. The man sat in a chair, dropping Bodkin's magic sword before him as though it were a thing of no importance. Bodkin growled low. Night-Creep chuckled.

Next the man began working to light the lamp upon the table. While the girl sat herself on the edge of the pit, staring at its prisoners. Legs dangling, kicking her bare feet out, in, out. Clearly restless to be running or dancing.

Lantern finally, finally alight, the bearded man now began work on a pipe. Bodkin sighed, waited. At length the man puffed smoke in satisfaction, and spoke.

"I see you know the protocol, young sir. As it happens, I am Master Crow. This is my associate Magpie."

"Hi," said Magpie. She gave a cheerful wave. Barnaby waved back. Bodkin gave him a sideways kick while addressing Crow.

"We want out and our loot back. What's it going to cost?"

"He's a businesslike sort," observed Crow to Magpie. The girl nodded agreement. The man took a long pipe-puff of consideration.

"I recollect I offered myself as your guide. Allow me to continue sharing the wonders of Persephone. Now, where you stand this very moment is a retaining well for when the waters of dark Lethe rise. You will have already noted the pipe opening, I assume? That leads by winding ways to the river."

Barnaby looked about, spying a dark hole in the floor. Too narrow for a miller's shoulders. Bodkin might navigate it.

"Now if you are thinking of touring those pipes, sirs, make sure you stop to appreciate the many and various rats, snakes and less canny nasties."

"Nasty," agreed the girl. "Nasty, nasty, nasty."

The man stopped to puff a smoke ring that drifted over her head. She giggled, reaching, attempting to catch it, near tumbling into the pit. The man smiled, continuing his lecture.

"Nasty indeed. The sewers of Persephone make an exciting maze of pipes, pits, tunnels and bends. Each with their separate and special fauna. Perhaps more exciting than a visitor wishes. I recall a particular area we locals call The Bone Room. The reasons for the name are dark, but fascinating."

Night-Creep yawned, whispered to Bodkin. "Is he boring us with his travelogue for some hidden purpose?"

Bodkin did not look to the cat, but whispered reply.

"Yeah. Means to keep us here till sundown."

"Why?"

"Night gives him leverage. We're in the center of town, not the docks. Daylight, a wandering watch might take it into their heads to sniff about. If so, Crow can claim he's naught to do with our trespass. But come sundown he'll do as he pleases. Say, practice his crossbow, hauling any accidental corpses over the river, selling 'em to the Tarks."