The Adventure of the Steel Gazelle Read online

more energetic.

  Eile gazed around the room as she tried to maintain a pleasant expression, but it wasn't easy. It hadn't been a good day. The crowd had been thin until recently, and that was the best reception they received, lukewarm as it was. And it didn't help that their audience was more enthusiastic for the minstrel's playing than their singing.

  She saw Tyco approach the stage. She didn't like him much, and her resentment went beyond her disappointment. There was just something about him, something disreputable that gave him a slick, oily feeling. He was of average height and build, muscular, but wiry and tough; he seemed more like a panther than a bull. His had a swarthy complexion and a head-full of shoulder-length jet black hair tightly curled into ringlets, with a long and thin that drooped below his chin while a tuft of beard clung beneath his lower lip. He wore a silk turban, a heavy linen shirt that fell to mid-calf, and an open woolen coat over his shoulders, all of which were decorated in bold designs and vivid colors. He was ornamented with a large pair of earrings, a necklace studded with jewels and precious stones, a ring on each finger, and a girdle, all made of gold.

  She and Sunny gave him room as he stepped up onto the stage. He nodded to them. "Very fine, my dears. You grace our rude tavern with your beauty and melodic voices."

  Sunny blushed and giggled. "Thanks!"

  He nodded again, and Eile realized that was their cue to leave. She took Sunny by the arm, hopped off, and made for an empty table. It had been kept reserved for them all day, despite some hard feelings it caused as the room filled up. It was where they kept their backpacks, weapons, and travel cloaks, all under the watchful eyes of the tavern bouncers.

  As they sat down, a barmaid came over and placed fresh tankards in front of them. Eile kept an eye on the bouncer who walked around the other tables carrying a bowl. Most of the patrons she saw dropped a coin or two into it, but a fair number ignored him or waved him off. That was their tip jar, and butterflies dive-bombed her stomach as she waited for their payoff.

  Meanwhile, she listened to Tyco work the crowd. "And now my friends, we shall have a short intermission before our main attraction."

  He was answered by a chorus of hoots, boos, and catcalls, and the pounding of fists, tankards, and knife pummels on the tables. The six musicians that usually played for the tavern's performers came out from a room behind the bar and made for the stage. The lead musician nodded to the minstrel, who returned the salute and stood to give them room. They then sat on the edge of the stage and began to tune their instruments.

  Tyco waited for the tumult to die down. "So be sure to place your orders and refill your drinks now!"

  That was answered by a raucous cheer as he stepped off the stage. As the musicians began to play barmaids came out and mingled with the tables. One stopped by their own, but all she did was lay a platter down between them. Eile glanced at it: it was filled with sliced meats and cheeses, and pieces of hard bread, almost like big, thick crackers.

  When she looked for the bowl, she saw the bouncer present it to Tyco. He looked into it and frowned, but took it over to the bar. Going behind it, he disappeared into a back office.

  "Tyco's got our tips."

  Sunny beamed a smile back. "Then we should get paid soon!"

  "I wanted ta be on hand when he counted them."

  "You don't think he'd try to cheat us, do you? Mayv wouldn't like that."

  "How would she know? How would we know?" Then she shrugged. "Yer probably right. But I wouldn't put it past him ta keep the odd-numbered coins for himself."

  The minstrel came up to their table. "If you girls will excuse me, I will be leaving to see if I can earn some more money this evening. The docks of Hlanith are crowded with taverns and saloons."

  "Hey, it's no skin off our noses," Eile said.

  "Yeah, sure," Sunny said, "good luck!"

  The minstrel bowed. "Say hello to Imperious Mayv for me." Then he turned and strode off.

  Sunny took a bread piece, laid a slice of salami and yellow cheese on it, and took a bite. The sight turned Eile's stomach. Not watching her eat, but seeing what she ate. The meat and cheese all looked greasy, while the cheese also appeared partly melted. It made her wonder how Tyco stored his provisions. She doubted any of it was spoiled. What she had learned of cheese-making and meat-preserving in the Dreamlands convinced her that for the most part it should be safe, if less than appetizing. But she still hadn't gotten used to being without refrigeration.

  Sunny smiled and smacked her lips. "Mmmm, it's delicious! Try some!"

  She looked at the platter, and pushed it closer to Sunny. "Pass."

  "You don't mind if I--" She pointed at the platter and circling her finger.

  She waved at her. "Knock yerself out. But I can't guarantee not ta upchuck all over the table."

  Sunny smiled, crinkled her eyes, and giggled.

  She took a sip of her drink. At least the beer tasted pretty good. Though a bit heavy, it had a strong, malty, and slightly sweet taste. It helped fill her up. She felt pretty hungry; she hadn't eaten since breakfast. Her stomach made rumbling noises and it actually hurt a little. As nauseating as the platter's contents appeared, she might have to choke some of it down before the night was over.

  Tyco came up to their table, and looked down at them with his beady, dark chocolate eyes. They reminded her of a rat's eyes. His eyebrows arched high into his forehead, giving him a diabolical cast, which his thin, sardonic smile reinforced. But the thing that fascinated her the most was the tattoo he wore on his left cheek: though stylized, the design was clearly that of a scorpion.

  He placed a tied cloth bag on the table in front of Sunny. "This is your share of the tips."

  She stared at it, feeling morose.

  "Not a lot, is there?" Sunny commented.

  "No." He then hesitated a moment. "Do you mind if I give you some advice?"

  Sunny looked at her. She didn't care, and she just shrugged.

  "Go ahead," Sunny said.

  "I realize that the circumstances of you being here are unusual, but your act is simply not appropriate for this kind of audience. Maybe if you were dancers, or wore skimpier costumes, or sang suggestive songs, you might have done better, but as paltry as this may seem, you did pretty well given the circumstances."

  "Were we that bad?" Sunny whined.

  "No! No, you sang very well, but my patrons have no interest in your type of songs."

  Sunny flashed an indignant expression. "Well, Vichnia seems to like them, or she wouldn't have asked us to open for her."

  "That's...not really true. Vichnia hoped you would bore everyone to where they would be even more eager to see her dance. I'm...sorry." And he turned and walked away.

  Sunny turned livid with rage. "The nerve of her!"

  She just shrugged.

  "You seem to be taking all this calmly for once."

  "It's done and finished; there's no point in getting mad about it."

  Sunny gave her a strange look.

  "What?"

  But she just smiled. "Nothing. You're right, of course." Then she moved her chair around to sit next to her. "So, how much is there?" Her good humor had returned; her voice had an excited tone.

  She loosened the tie-string and the bag fell open. It turned out to be just a square of linen whose corners had been gathered together and secured with a cord.

  She scanned the contents. "Looks like about a coupla dozen tahlers."

  Sunny rooted around in the pile and saw a glint of yellow. Reaching in, she extracted a gold crown and held it up.

  "Someone really liked our singing." Her tone sounded hopeful.

  "Our singing, or us?"

  Sunny dropped the coin as if it was tainted. "Eeewww!"

  "Makes you wonder what he was doing while he watched us."

  Sunny looked around. "I wonder which one he is?"

  "Sunnyyy, Jesus!"

  "Well, I'm just curious!"

  "He may not even be here anymore. They've been collecting
coins all day." She then fell silent as she leaned forward, resting her arms on the table, and stared at the pile, feeling glum.

  "Are you okay, partner?"

  "I...just don't think this is working out."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Okay, we've been here six weeks now--"

  "More like seven."

  Perplexed, she said, "Wha--?"

  "Our first trip here lasted almost a whole week."

  "Oh, yeah. But that was four months ago, Dream time. Okay, all totaled, we've been here seven weeks. What have we done in that time?"

  "Well, we had two big adventures, we've gone with Medb on a couple of her missions, we've toured Ulthar, uhm...oh, Mayv's been training us in weapons fighting...uh..."

  "Exactly. We haven't done much of anything, and what we have done was either dangerous or boring. I mean, yeah, I'll admit it, I thought the idea of being able ta go to some fantasy world every night and have real role-playing adventures seemed pretty cool. But this has turned out ta be pretty dull, when we're not having the crap scared out of us."

  She picked up a tahler and leaned back. "Not ta mention that it's not as lucrative as in Otherworld. This is our first real haul, and even then it's pretty dismal." She threw the coin back onto the pile.

  "Okay, let's think about this for a moment. In the game, did we just sit around and wait for something to happen?"

  "It's not the same thing. Otherworld was set up to offer us challenges."

  "Eileee, stop avoiding the question."

  She sighed from exasperation. "Alright. Well, yeah, sort of; our characters would wander around the town or countryside until someone showed up and offered us a quest."

  "The point is, we actively