Outsiders 21.1

A Dragon in a Fist Fight, Part 1

Valerie poured over the reading materials Xigbar had been able to find for her in the last few weeks. There was nothing so useful as a training manual entitled "Absence Powers, Why You Have Them, and How to Use Them," but there was plenty to work with. Most of it was indirect references. Accounts from people who had fought something with a connection to Absence, or how to defend against it, or discussions about its opposite, Presence. But even from those, there were answers to glean.

She'd already confirmed Arden's warnings—the blackfire did effectively burn up her lifeforce to fuel it. But she'd also learned that living things naturally generated Presence. As long as she didn't outright kill herself, she could replace what she used. That still left her with both questions of capacity and recovery to sort out, and it was difficult to do that when only a couple of practice attempts made her feel unsteady, and a handful threatened unconsciousness. There was a key to overcoming that, she was sure, she just had to find it.

And at the moment, she had nothing but time to look.

In the bunk above Valerie's, List's gave a frustrated groan.

"Everything alright up there?" Valerie asked.

"Why are men so stupid?" the hellborn asked. "Just kiss her already!"

"Ah." For a moment, Valerie had thought they were about to talk about something else. But no, List was just reading. "Maybe he doesn't like her that way?"

"It's fiction, Valerie. The whole point is that they like each other that way," List grumbled. "And she's being so obvious about it, you'd think he'd take the hint by now."

Valerie set down her notes. "Are we still talking about your book?"

List was silent for a moment. "I don't know what you're on about."

"Mm hm."

"Oh, piss off." List threw her book down at Valerie, who caught it. "I'm just frustrated, is all. We've been stuck in here for weeks, the boys are getting on my tits, and there's barely any privacy in this place."

They had been down in the hideout for a lot longer than usual. The false lead and ambush on the boat had been too neat of a trap, and now Samira Shen was paranoid that they'd been found out somehow. All the information they'd recently gathered became suspect, and everyone was supposed to keep their heads down while they sorted things out. Even Valerie had started to feel cooped up lately.

Idly, she thumbed open the book List had thrown at her—Bards to It Best—to a random page and read. Three paragraphs later, Valerie closed the book, feeling heat rising in her cheeks. List noticed, but before she could say anything, Kiva came storming into the bunkroom, flopped onto the bunk closest to the Waymire sisters, and let out an exasperated sigh.

"What happened to you?" Valerie asked.

"I just got back from faking José's death," Kiva grumbled.

"What?!" List demanded, looking down with interest.

Kiva sighed. "It's not as exciting as it sounds. Samira didn't think keeping José embedded with the Chosen's bards was worth the risk now that we're pretty sure they're onto us, but he can't just quit a job like that without raising suspicion, and we couldn't afford him getting sent to prison for doing something stupid to get himself kicked out. So I shot him with a poison arrow, made him look like a corpse for a few hours, and then stole his body."

"That sounds like the most exciting thing that's happened to any of us in days," List protested. "Why weren't we invited?"

"Same reason you've been stuck here," Kiva said. "The worst part is, now José is bored and moping. I sort of get why, but a bored, moping José is an annoying José. He keeps trying to flirt with me to make himself feel better, which, just . . . no. And honestly, where does he get off acting like the only victim here when we're all benched while Samira tries to restrategize?"

"It's been a trying time for everyone, it seems," Valerie said.

List silenced the room by leaping down from her bunk. "That's it. We need a break. Tonight, we're going out and doing something fun. And I know just the place."

Kaleb and Xigbar sat at a table in the corner of the Scaled Maiden, something they technically weren't supposed to be doing during business hours, on account of them being fugitives and the Maiden being one of the most popular taverns in town. Xigbar had dragged Kaleb out here, away from his training, with no further explanation than "I need some muscle for a thing."

That had been hours ago. Kaleb always tried his best to be patient, and it did feel nice to be needed, but even he had his limits. He still hadn't stopped beating himself up over the near disaster of their last mission. His preferred solution to those kinds of feelings was to work harder, not sit on his hands. 

Now, finally, his patience had worn thin enough for him to start asking questions.

"So, why are we here, exactly? Instead of at the hideout?" Kaleb asked.

Xigbar looked like he barely heard him as he checked the clock on the wall for the thousandth time. "Fortune fuck him."

"Pardon?"

Xigbar grumbled something to himself before leaning back in his seat. "I think the son of a bitch I was supposed to meet here skipped town on me. I knew I shouldn't have paid so much up front. Last time I trust a halfling."

At a nearby table, a halfling looked over at them, and glared. Kaleb flashed him an apologetic smile.

"Why were we meeting someone here?" Kaleb pressed.

Xigbar sighed. "Valerie asked me to track down some weird shit for her, and I can't say no to a hot blonde."

"Let me rephrase: why am I here?"

"I told you, I needed some muscle. The guy I was supposed to buy from was kinda shady, and I wanted backup in case he tried something. I expected to get stabbed, not stood up," the thief said with a frustrated hiss.

Someone walked through the front doors of the Scaled Maiden, and for a fraction of a second, Xigbar looked hopeful. But it was only José. Kaleb knew something was wrong the moment he realized José was neither wearing his hat nor smoking his pipe. The spy's skin was deathly pale, and his clothes and hair were covered in dirt.

José made a beeline for their table as soon as he saw them. "My friends, it is good to see you, even if the day is not so good."

"José," Kaleb greeted. "You look . . ."

"Like ass," Xigbar finished.

José winced. "An unfortunate side effect of my recent change in employment. I'm afraid I will no longer be providing our glorious cause with insight into the enemy's movements, and I am, how you say, seated. Until Samira Shen decides what's to be done."

"Well, considering you led us into like, a million traps, that's probably a good thing," Xigbar said.

"He led us into two at most," Kaleb defended. "And you led us into one too."

"Eh, potato, flamingo," Xigbar said dismissively.

"No, he is right. I was on a rough streak even before this," José said. "Truth be told, it is somewhat embarrassing. My luck has not been this bad in some time. I must be overdue."

"Meanwhile, I'm still waiting for some good luck," Xigbar said.

"I always thought of you as being incredibly lucky," Kaleb said. "I mean, you're still alive, despite . . . everything."

"You think you're funny, don't you?"

"Not really."

"Perhaps I am not the only one in need of a turn of fortunes," José said. "These last few weeks have been difficult for all of us, no? Why don't we go somewhere to relax? Unwind. Be free of our stresses, that we may start anew."

"Like where?" Xigbar asked.

"Oh," José said, "I know just the place."