A Walk in the Dark Chapter 10

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A Walk in the Dark
Chapter 10

by Maggie Finson

 

Out and About

I got into my leathers, armor, enchanted of course, courtesy of Kae’song. The stuff wouldn’t stand up in a face to face fight, but it was good enough to keep accidental damage, or stuff I should be able to dodge from doing catastrophic damage.

It was a dull, dark brown. I found out that black isn’t a color that happens in nature and so would really stand out — who knew? Fortunately for moi, the armorers did. The pants and top hugged me like a second skin, too. Now that was embarrassing, and getting the stuff on was a chore. And girls back home complain about what it takes to get into a pair of tight jeans…

At least it didn’t restrict my motion, or creak like leather usually does. But it really doesn’t leave all that much to the imagination far as my figure is concerned. Gods, if my complexion showed blushes that would be even more embarrassing.

Sam was watching my ass in that tight, tight leather and I could hear him drooling even though I wasn’t looking at him. “Stop it, Sam. These are my work clothes even if they are embarrassing.”

“Well, this is part of your job that I won’t complain about at all.” He said with a chuckle.

“Lech.”

“Guilty as charged.” He agreed easily enough. “But look at it this way, I’m your lech.”

“There is that, I guess.” I sighed then started getting my weapons and stuff together. Thieve’s tools, enough throwing knives that I was surprised I was able to hide them all and some of the places I did hide them I am sooo not talking about here. A pair of matched stilettos, needle pointed and slender blades, at sheaths on my thighs, and one very heavy, business-like dirk on my belt.

With several packets of herbs, most of which would be very nasty to imbibe. Okay, so it was my do it yourself poison kit, I admit it.

“How do you not clank or wince from something cutting you when you just move?” Sam asked.

“Tricks of the trade, I guess.” Shrugging and making sure nothing would make noise or accidently impale me with that gesture, I gave him a weak grin. “Don’t ask. It took me over a month to learn how to do this right. And the lessons tended to hurt if I got them wrong.”

“That I can believe.”

“Given some of the places I hide things,” I grimaced, “I learned really fast.”

“I’ll bet.”

“I’d offer to teach you, just to be mean.” I looked at him then actually laughed. “But you don’t have some of the places I do to get it done right.”

“Somehow,” he actually looked a little pale and greenish, “I don’t think I mind that so much.”

“Me neither.” I walked over and kissed him. “You’d lose some parts I’ve kind of gotten attached to recently to even be able to learn some of those tricks.”

“I figured that one out already.” He chuckled then took my shoulders in his hands and looked into my face. “You be careful.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I will. I have a scroll with a spell that will give me the seeming of a human woman, and before you ask, yes I’ve copied it already. That’s a spell I want to know how to do, and a nice heavy cloak with a hood to use if that goes bad.”

“So far I haven’t had that much to reassure me about how things are going to turn out well around here.” Sam told me.

“Me neither.” I admitted. “So now we start working on making our own luck. Once I get back.”

“Just come back whole.” He told me.

“I plan on it.” I answered then left before I could have second thoughts.

* * * *

I went in a coach. I guess that was his nastiness’ way of making sure someone was keeping tabs on me. As if that was needed given the oath he’d pulled out of Sam. One of these days I was sooo going to kill that damned mage. Preferable slowly and with lots of screaming involved. His.

That thought made me slow down and think about things. The old me would have never contemplated the first part, the killing thing, let alone the warm, pleasant feeling I was getting when I thought of Kae’song writhing on a table in front of me and bleeding all over the place.

I really wasn’t a nice person any longer. And I blamed him for that, too.

After a few hours, the coach stopped and the driver opened the door. “We’re here, Lady.”

“All right.” I felt his fear of me, even savored it for a moment and wondered just what kind of person I was becoming while vowing to push things like those feelings down in the future. “Give me a minute here, and close the door. I’ll be out when I’m ready.”

“As you say, m’lady.” He responded, almost appearing relieved to be away from me. Almost? Hell, he was relieved.

The seeming, or illusion was a good one. Once I’d used it I appeared to be a common young woman, still beautiful, but not dressed as anyone extraordinary. Not quite a tavern wench, definitely not a whore, but no lady, either. Giving my now creamy pale hands and arms a look I was shocked to discover that seeing a complexion like I’d had originally felt wrong. It was actually kind of unsettling for me to be so pale.

I was wearing a long, loose skirt with a few petticoats under it, loose blouse and kirtle (girdle that ties into place from the front and is nowhere near as constrictive as a girdle) and my hair was a dark blonde. Another thing that jarred. I was already used to the snow white mass of hair I had and it not being there didn’t feel right at all.

Okay, I admit it already. I’d gotten used to how I looked on this world and the female Dhro’aaa I’d become wasn’t hard to look at. Not at all. Vanity had me and I knew it. My human guise just then was gorgeous, but it didn’t hold a guttering candle to what I was without the disguise.

Also, appearing to be merely human was something that wasn’t sitting well with me either. Sheesh.

And a month ago I’d have given my soul to just be human again.

Oddly, the female part of all that barely registered at all.

* * * *

Which place did you secure my room in?” I asked the coachman once I’d alighted from the conveyance with my disguise in place.

“That one.” He pointed to a not so bad looking Inn/Tavern with a sign showing a Unicorn performing very vulgar acts with a sheep. “But it is only one room, lady. I apologize but that was all that was available.”

“It’ll do.” I assured him. “I don’t plan to live there, after all.”

He relaxed and his fear of me was palpable enough for me to taste its salty, sour/sweet essence. I shook my head and put one hand on his arm in spite of his flinch. “Listen, offer me no harm and I’ll offer you none, now relax, I’m not going to eat your soul for a bedtime snack anytime in the near future.”

“As you wish, Lady.” He answered and bowed to me. At least that very distracting terrified scent he had been putting out was gone.

“Make sure the horses and coach are being taken care of then go have a few drinks and a meal.” I told him while pressing a handful of copper pieces into his hand. “Then go rest. I won’t be doing anything important until tomorrow night at least.”

“Thank you, Lady.” He actually bowed once he’d said that. How weird is that? I’ve never had someone bow to me before.

“Just make sure you and the coach are ready to fly tomorrow night.” I told him. “My work here should be done by then.”

“It will be as you command, lady.” He told me.

“I’m sure it will.” I answered with a smile then turned to walk into the inn, tavern, whatever. That sign made me a bit nervous, too, by the way.

* * * *

The interior of The Unicorn lived up to its billing. You wouldn’t believe some of things I saw going on in plain sight there. The common room was full of cutthroats, low lives, and criminals who had managed to evade the local law. Fun place, actually.

And full of information if you could pay for it, or flirt until some goof would tell you his deepest secrets. (Not that hard to do in that place and with the way I currently appeared. I was rather well endowed up top in this guise, with hips that hinted at wonderful things for a man so inclined.)

So, I smiled, gave kisses, endured the touches, pinches and outright gropes through the evening. I guess I did it well, the tavern keeper offered me a job at some point there.

But I’d also gotten the information I wanted.

Taking twelve hot baths wouldn’t clean off the way I’d had to get that, but there was nothing I could do about it.

It was done, I knew what I needed, and had a target I wouldn’t feel terrible about killing.

But I took a bath anyway, and threw things at the men who tried to sneak in for a peek. Sharp things. That really hurt when they hit.

And no, I didn’t throw my knives at them. Pieces of a broken pot worked quite nicely for that. Then I had to squirm back into that damned armor.

* * * *

I spent the next day just wandering around in the mercantile section of town while watching my target at work and letting him watch me.

I enticed his attentions with some judicious twitches of hip and bottom, and subtle arches of my back to show off just how well equipped I was to nurse babies. The illusion I was wearing was at least twice the size I really was, but I still felt the weight and strain on my back all day long. But Salar the slave trader had noticed me. I suspected he planned to take me, have his fun then add me to his wares.

But that was okay. He wasn’t going to reach the ‘sampling my wares’ part of things anyway, let alone anything else.

The slimy, disgusting shit.

Okay, I’d feel bad about the killing thing, but not about my chosen victim. Sue me.

* * * *

“So tell me about your family, Nera.” Salar questioned. Nera was the name I’d chosen for my present appearance and I pushed my breasts into his admittedly expert hands as he asked.

“Dead.” I told him then gave him what I hoped was a winsome little smile mixed with sorrow. “Raiders hit the farm while I was in town selling our produce and when I returned there was — no one alive and all the buildings were — burning.” I put a few believable little catches in my voice and sobs into that one.

“I had the money from what I’d sold that day, and some more from a hole back in the pasture that the bandits missed, so I came here to find employment.” I told him and could see the dollars signs, or gold piece signs, in his eyes. Greedy, nasty little bastard.

“I can help you with that.” He assured me, still groping and when he thought I wasn’t looking, shaking a packet of powder into my watered down wine.

“Oh, I know you can, lover.” I answered, losing the halfway vapid, ignorant, innocent farm girl tones and enunciation as I slowly pushed one of my needle pointed stilettos between his ribs and made sure I hit his heart. He didn’t bleed much at all since his heart had stopped so quickly, and I left the stiletto where it was, with the note attached and now pinned to his dead body.

“You didn’t deserve to live you rat bastard.” I sweetly told the body while patting its cheek and kissing its cooling lips. “Have a good time in Hell, sweetie.”

After that I got up and went to the door. Then came the really hard part.

I dropped my illusion so everyone could see me as I really was, in that really embarrassing leather armor, by the way. “Kae’song sends his regards.”

Then I slowly turned away and walked out the door. After that I beat feet to where I knew the carriage was waiting. Hey I’m not a fool. Even a mob of enraged farmers could do a lot of damage, even kill me, if I let them catch me. I did not want that to happen.

Proof, dammit I forgot to get that.

Sighing, I turned back to go get it.

Fortunately, everyone was still trying to figure out just what exactly I’d done. My stiletto was hidden in the folds of Salar’s cloak. I managed to use shadow to sneak back there and start looking for something that Kae’song would accept as proof.

Ring, big, ostentatious, ugly, on his second finger. That would work.

But I couldn’t get the damned thing off his finger.

No matter how much I pulled, jerked, pried, or whatever. I’d have used soap or oil, but of course I’d forgotten to bring oil. (memo to self: Always take oil with you.)

Worse, the tavern clientele had noticed I was back.

Not good.

I finally gave up trying to get the ring lose and just took the finger with the ring on it. Messy, very messy, even if the body is dead and the heart isn’t pumping blood. Trust me don’t try that one at home, kids.

But there I was, staring at a rather belligerent mob of drunks and with my one clear exit blocked. (Memo to self number two: Always map out alternate exits.)

Oh yeah, with that nasty, blood dripping finger (the ring was still on it at least) held between forefinger and thumb of my right hand.

“Uh, look guys.” I told them. “I have nothing against you. Couldn’t you just, you know, let me walk out of here?”

One of them threw a bench at me. I guess not on that last question.

“Look.” I asked sometime later as I was slamming the barkeeps face into his counter. “Can’t we just talk this over like civilized people?”

Another patron swung his sword, it was rusty and he was clumsy with it by the way, at me. Okay guess not on the discussion thing.

“Do I have to waste my effort to kill all of you idiots and burn this misbegotten place to the ground?!!” I finally lost my patience and shouted. “It’s been fun, but I really need to go now.”

The seven guys left standing, hefty and well armed, by the way, looked at each other, the shambles the place was in, the unconscious, bleeding, broken, cut idiots on the floor or lying across tables and looked at each other, put their weapons away, and grinned.

“Good fight.” Their leader told me then moved behind the bar. “Let’s have one drink to celebrate it and we’ll hope we never see each other again.”

“Works for me.” I agreed, glad for all the times I’d sparred with Sam unarmed. He’d have cleaned this place out in seconds, by the way. Okay maybe it would have taken him minutes. He’s my guy and I’m biased.

I had the drink, a not bad ale, the innkeeper had been holding out with the good stuff it seems, gave them each a kiss on the cheek, then just walked out the door. Oh, I had to locate the finger and ring in the mess, but the guys helped me do that. Sheesh.

So went my very first assassination. So much for being the sneaky, unseen type on that one.

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Comments

first kill

I find myself hoping it affects her when she gets home to Sam. Killing SHOULD be hard, it should cost.

"Treat everyone you meet as though they had a sign on them that said "Fragile, under construction"

dorothycolleen

DogSig.png

Oh,

She'll go through her own little hell over that, especially the casual way she did the killing, but remember here, she is inherently evil and can't help that. It goes with the race she's now part of. Fighting that is going to be a lot of the story here.

Maggie

guilty

kristina l s's picture

much like Dahlia I suspect I couldn't help but smile at this. The wry somewhat black humour. So she flirted a bit, killed a guy, lopped off his finger, wiped the floor with half the patrons then had a quiet drink with those left standing...sounds fair to me. You do write this sort of thing very well. Then we aint in Kansas or even on Earth anymore are we, different rules apply.

Kris

Thanks.

I just HAD to have the obligatory tavern brawl in this one. Couldn't resist. sigh.

Maggie

I love this

Maggie I think this is a fantastic story! I agree with the comment above in that if she doesn't "feel it" at some point then she's farther gone from her humanity then I'd thought.
This is a truly fun and enjoyable story and I can't wait to see where this goes. I'm trying not to speculate too much - a real chore for me!

My only possible issue with this is that some of the sentences get very complicated and, well, confusing at times with all the commas and asides. It's fun in that it can indicate the many threads of thought and feeling swirling through Dahlia's head, but at times I have to refer back to an earlier point in the sentence to connect the thought.

It's a minor thing though - I absolutely love the story and the dialogue (internal and external) is wonderful. Thanks and more, please! :-)

~abenderx~

The internal dialogue

Is really a big part of this story, as if you hadn't noticed. Thanks.

Maggie

Another excellent chapter.

Jemima Tychonaut's picture

Another excellent chapter. It's interesting to watch the struggle between the human and dhro'aaa elements of Dahlia. Dylan probably couldn't have killed a man (even a lecherous, reprehensible slave trader) in cold blood. Dahlia did it without any real second thought. I can't help but wonder if the merchant had been an honest man who was kind to kittens if it would have been as easy for the two elements of herself to avoid conflict at the time. I'm guessing the ramifications of this act will have a big impact of Sam and Dahlia's attempts to hold on to their humanity.



"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."

She may not be human anymore but she can maybe be her own ...

dhro'a.

Killing may be second nature to the race as is their belief in their superiority over other races but as a transformee, one not brought up in the culture, she should be able to channel that aggression and smugness into something less sinister and more... well, good. Hum, the ultimate miltary drill sergent?

-- snicker --

Look at the assassination. She killed a slaver. A sick pervert who was about to drug a seemingly orphaned young woman to take as yet another slave.

If she can confine her killing to the worst dregs of society it is more like justice, assuming she can avoid becoming a vigilante. Hey it worked for Charles Bronson. Plus I wonder, with her rapidly increasing skill with herbs could she fake a killing? IE drug a person or persons into a deep coma so they appear dead but with the right counter herbs or time they will revive? Hum... " I am so sorry my master. I thought you needed a good nights rest but I seem to have miscalculated the dose. Don't worry you probably won't die."

Must the mage speak to cast spells? If so, "accidently" put something in his food to still his voice for a while? And though supposedly they gave an oath that forces them to do his bidding what if he was tricked in to saying "kill me" Would they then be compelled to kill the mage? Or if they cannot directly harm him can they let harm come to him? IE how tight and well thought out are the oaths?

Loopholes, there must be loopholes. Say she were to tell someone not oath bound to the mage, "This vial siting here on the table contains a deadly poison . If someone were to pour it into my master's tankard of ale and I didn't see them, the smell and color are undetectable and I might serve it to him and poison him to death. Wouldn't that be terrible. I am like sooo upset I would even think of harming him. I'll go leave the room for a few minutes to compose myself."

Or if she does become pregnant would any threat to harm her and her unborn or her born child negate any oath and allow her free will again to protect her child up to and including killing the mage?

They do have spells to appear human and she has copied them. Could they escape the mage back to earth? They might not be able to become human again but they could live as if they were still human. Plus is it a one way transformation or could the mage or that more powerful woman change them back if properly induced? He would not but she might if there was something in it for her. And what of his former betrothed on Earth?

Could one of them change the other one back leaving themselves stuck as a dhro'a? They are natural wielders of magic so it might be possible unless their very being magic users would make their bodies resist any further change, IE they cannot be changed anymore period except by using far more magic than the mage first used on them, possibly exponentially more magic? In which case other than the oath the mage has no control over them. IE her compulsion to say all those things in public in support of her master are due to the oath not new magic from him?

Lots of fun.

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

Perhaps killing does not affect some.

It looks like she had adequate provocation. He wished to enslave her, and had many others. He was greedy, evil man; deserved to die. The way Dalhia did it was too painless; too merciful. Perhaps she was messinger sent to avenge the weak. This was test he failed.

Ma Salaama

Khadijah

Loving it!

Very definitely loving what has already become the newest Maggie Finson classic! This one has pretty much everything you could ask for in a story, and in spades!

As to her feeling guilt over killing that slimy piece of rat dung, I kinda think not. She's more likely to feel guilty over the damage to bystanders. I have no doubt that she and Sam will win free of the jerk and go on to terrorize the other Dhro'aaa.

Watching it happen should be highly amusing!

Thanks for this corker of a yarn, Maggie!

Abigail 10-10

Abby

Battery.jpg

Thank you.

Always good to know people are enjoying a story.

Maggie

Sent to assassinate a slaver?

Kae'song may be an evil bastard, but perhaps he's not a total evil bastard? Maybe in this world, he's one of the good guys...

Weeelll.

Vote's still out on that one. Remember that he told Dahlia to pick her own target rather than give her a specific target.

Maggie

yeah, but...

... maybe they were ALL bad guys...

C'mon, I bet he has a secret Beanie Baby collection he cuddles with when nobody understands him....

I'm So Ronery
So ronery
So ronery and sadry arone

There's no one
Just me onry
Sitting on my rittle throne
I work rearry hard and make up great prans
But nobody ristens, no one understands
Seems like no one takes me serirousry

And so I'm ronery
A rittle ronery
Poor rittle me

There's nobody
I can rerate to
Feel rike a bird in a cage
It's kinda sihry
But not rearry
Because it's fihring my body with rage

I'm the smartest most crever most physicarry fit
But nobody else seems to rearize it
When I change the world maybe they'll notice me
But until then I'rr just be ronery
Rittle ronery, poor rittle me

I'm so ronery

no that's not it

In that kind of world, slavery is a legal profession. It's only when you take into account that we have things like Amity International that we can see the value of human life. So Dahlia's options were really, what makes an assasination moral?
Cliff

Good answer, Cliff.

Now,where does that leave our heroine?

The Vulgar Unicorn

I take it you're a fan of Thieves' World? My friends and I tend to include a Vulgar Unicorn in most of our D&D games. It is the ultimate seedy fantasy world bar. I'm really enjoying this story, and I hope that there is a lot more to come. As for inherent evil there is a difference between impulse and actions. They may never be fully human again in their impulses, but they should be able to temper them if they work at it. Please keep up the great work Maggie.

Ahh, someone caught that one!

I was wondering if anyone would, and yes, I shamelessly stole The Vulgar Unicorn for this part of the story But it was fun, wasn't it?

Well, that was interesting,

Well, that was interesting, Dahlia pretty much cleans out the bar via the fight, and then at the end actually has a drink with the seven who are left standing, plus they help her find the finger with the ring on it. Very comical if you think about it.

A Walk in the Dark Chapter 10

To bad she cant kill her boss and end her misery and take over.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Slavers

Diesel Driver's picture

I'm glad she shares my opinion of slavers. I have to wonder if she realizes that she is a slave (probably) and that K is just as bad, if not worse, than the guy she just killed. Or is there something going on that made HIM do it too? Just a thought knowing how you can twist the plot of a story around so well.

Chris