Working Title III: You Meddling Mortals

Chapter 12 - He Can See Us

"Edgar, be a dear would you?" Aster asked. A moment later, a Raven was resting on his shoulder. It fixed the Ascot it was wearing to rest properly on its neck and turned to face Aster, his plumage atop his head was shaped like a Fedora. Aster motioned with his head to where the body lay.

"Ooh! Aster-Aster has a brain pet too!" Bon Qui-Qui pointed to Edgar as he quickly flew overhead, appearing not to flap his wings at all. In fact, it still appeared he was perched on Aster's shoulder as he traveled. Briefly, he circled the body and returned.

"A...brain pet?" Sinn questioned.

"Yeah! I sometimes see Miss Patches with this lil' black kee-cat. She calls her Kiki, but Kiki's only there when she asks for her."

Aster's eyes drifted toward Bon Qui-Qui as she gave her explanation. "Curious. What else can Patches do, Bon Qui-Qui? I know I had to work pretty hard to make friends with Edgar here."

"I dunno! I think it gets hot when she's mad, but she always gets mad when it's hot outside anyway, seems like."

Edgar floated to a stop in front of Aster. "Weak and weary..." his voice echoed in Aster's head, sounding as his own – vaguely urban with a distinct lack of urgency in its tone. "But alive?" Aster probed.

"There is a tapping...but only this and nothing more." Edgar vanished.

"Damn birds and their riddles." Aster shook his head. "Bon Qui-Qui, I would have your mace out. Sinn, have an arrow knocked please."

***

Patches quickly threw a leg up over the railing and side-saddled her way into the chair opposite Hussein.

"So...do you come here often?" Patches gave a coy smile.

Hussein spoke with a heavily Latino accent and confidence to match. "No, this is my first time in Drywind. I heard of this 'Festival of the Hunt' and thought I could win."

Patches raised an eye brow. This playboy with his fancy sweatpants and open jacket wore no armor. He carried no weapon. His shoes carried no mud or dried blood from those who lay beneath his feet. She was rather certain he'd not killed at all.

"Oh!" Doing her best to hide her surprise. "My money is on you, love." She said with a wink. "Have you participated in other hunts or...?"

"No, this will be the first. But, I have something that others don't."

Patches bit her lip ran her fingers through her hair. "Are you sure you can show me that here?"

Hussein smiled and placed his satchel on the table and opened the flap to show the edge of a whip made from chain as thick as Patches' arm.

"Well that's rather exciting...do you have one that would be more suitable for me?" Patches eyes locked with Hussein's. She forced herself to blush.

He leaned over the table, folding his fingers together and letting his deep gray eyes meet and linger with Patches'. "I find that pulling on a mane is more effective than any whip or riding crop. And what a mane you have my dear." He reached out and stroked her hair gently.

With his free hand, he dropped several coins on the table. Patches quelled the urge to grab them. "He's paying for the meal. My rate is several times that." She remembered.

Patches grasped his hand gently, resting it against her face and letting out a low purr.

"All night for us then baby?" she ran a fingertip down his forearm.

***

Bon Qui-Qui lead the party toward the body. She tip-toed, her mace held high above her head. They approached, and the smell of decay quickly overwhelmed them. "Grrrr-ah?" The corpse's head moved, it's skin a pale gray, long dead eyes having whited over. The skin from the back of its head stuck to the path on which it lay; it's spine visible through the front of its neck.