Working Title III: You Meddling Mortals

Chapter 16 - Boots On The Ground

Patches sat against the wall of her rented room. Her chest heaved up and down as her thoughts raced and sweat beaded from her brow.

Who was the man she'd met earlier? Did she meet the real captain snow at all? Or was it an imposter she'd been dealing with the whole time? What is a Terror Bird? Why was the captain carrying drugs?

"I've got to warn Iris." Patches quickly dashed out her bedroom door again, bounding down the stairs past Frankie.

"Where to now...?" Frankie asked as Patches sprinted by her.

***

The stars shone brightly over their heads. Nadine slept soundly on the remains of a stagecoach so lovingly hacked into a flatbed. Their boots and bare feet squelched in the mud on the trail.

"Next time," Sinn took a deep inhale as he pushed the cart. "We can't be sent on an errand with a deadline of the day before."

"Absolutely not." Aster agreed. "I'll put a lead up time of at least a week in our contracts going forward." He grunted. "Or they pay double, up front."

Bon Qui-Qui, predictably not winded "Did...is we getting paid for bringing Peeyair back fo' the-"

"Yes." Sinn interrupted. "We are getting paid for running Snow's errand, and participating in his silly festival, and-"

"Oh come now, Sinn." Aster again interrupted "I thought you'd be looking forward to the hunt! Fantastic beasts! Beautiful audience looking after you with bated breath! You're the only huntsman here, I can't imagine you wouldn't win."

Sinn looked at Aster's face in the moonlight. Aster smiled a gentle smile. Sinn wasn't sure if he was serious or not.

"I do have that going for me. I bet the rest of you are just planning on-" He pauses to readjust his grip. "Running off and getting yourselves killed."

"Well whut are you gonna do, Mister?" Bon Qui-Qui turns to face Pierrot.

"Do you think Snow invites-" Pierrot struggles for grip. "Do you think Snow fetches me every year for this for fun? No...I am the main event."

Bon Qui-Qui stops pushing her end of the cart and closes her arms.

"Peeyair you gonna be making more of them zombies? I dun like 'em. That's wrong."

Pierrot stares back at Bon Qui-Qui.

"This is what Snow pays me for. I am the Necromancer. Outcast of society. Banned in most towns. 'Come, see the Doctor with his Frankenstein!" Pierrot exclaimed. "Do you think I like doing this?!"

"If you don't like it, then why do you do it?" Sinn interjected.

"On the hopes that I find someone like me." Pierrot deadpanned.

"So you make your talents known publicly to try and find other Necromancers..." Aster spoke aloud. "but why? That sounds rather...nefarious."

Bon Qui-Qui gave a small smile. More Five Gold words.

"It does, and I understand!" Pierrot threw up his hands in a surrender pose. "But I just want to be around people who can help me study and get better at what I do. I think through Necromancy we can solve the riddle of death itself."

"Well...we kind of already know how to do that..." Aster submitted. "Lichdom is a wonderful option for those who are too afraid to die."

Pierrot rolled his eyes. "Do you have any idea how expensive that is?!"

"Wait, expensive? What are you talking about?"

"Yes..." Pierrot replied smugly. "The wealthiest men end up liquidating their fortunes in the end. And even then half of them still fail.