Finder's Bane - Kate Novak [111]
Puzzled, Joel turned and addressed the elf. "Excuse me?"
"Wot, yer barmy?" the elf asked, tilting his head slightly. "I asked if you were clueless, cutter. Newly arrived to the Cage. Out-of-towner, by the fresh smell on you. Looking for a kip and a bit of a ride, I bet."
The three adventurers exchanged questioning looks.
"Do either of you have magic to understand his tongue?" Walinda asked.
"I don't think a spell would help," Jedidiah grumbled. "This is the local dialect." Passersby continued to ignore them, save for the elf. "Ah! Definitely clueless!" the elf exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. "Fortunately for you lot, I'm a most well-lanned tout and knight of the post in the Cage, which is the native name for Sigil, berk. Top-shelf, I am. Guaranteed to get you where you need to be for a bit of jink or a sparkle. I got maps to all the major portals, the passwords of the best kips, and a full listing of all the factions. Can't tell the Dustmen from the Godsmen without one. I got a special today on holy relics. I got the toenails of Mordenkainen, the eye of Tiamat, the Hand of Bane, and the vorpal chiv of Arthur hisself-"
Walinda laughed. "You have the Hand of Bane?" she asked, her tone implying she thought the possibility most improbable.
"Of course," the elf replied, straightening with pride. "It's what every sod in the Cage is hunting for. Got it right in here." He patted a large pouch beneath his cloak. "Let's move to a blind and we can negotiate."
"You'll be in the deadbook if you try that, berks!" a rasping, high-pitched voice cried out. A female dwarf barreled out of a doorway and plodded over to them. "He's in the cross-trade, looking for conies."
The elf wheeled on her. "Bar that! I'm their tout here, and I resent your implication."
The dwarf snorted. "You're just after their jink. Then you'll give 'em the laugh. Besides, everyone knows I have the Hand o' Bane."
Jedidiah raised his eyebrows and glanced at Walinda. The priestess sneered but made no comment.
"Shut yer bone-box!" the elf snapped. "I got the hand. You've got a piece of Vecna. At least that's what you told the last bit of berks you turned stag on."
"Here's the dark of it," the dwarf growled to the elf. "You're on the peel, and peery peel at that. 'I got the Hand of Bane; just step inta the alley' indeed. They'd tumble to you in a dabus's heartbeat."
"Scan this, rube," the elf snarled. 'These are my conies, and I'm gonna keep 'em. So sod off with that Hand of Bane bob and go to the mazes."
Jedidiah took a step backward. The two natives failed to notice as they continued to argue in their nearly impenetrable native language. He set one hand on Joel's shoulder and the other on Walinda's. Priest and priestess looked back at the older man, who made a backward jerking motion with his head. Joel and Walinda stepped back from the disputing pair. Then all three stepped backward two more steps. Then, as one, the three spun about and stepped into the flow of the pedestrian traffic. Both elf and dwarf remained oblivious to the loss of their would-be customers.
"Where are we headed?" the priestess asked.
"For the moment, we're just heading away," Jedidiah replied. "Stay alert and don't gawk. That's probably what marked us as tourists."
"Any other sage advice?" Walinda retorted sarcastically.
Jedidiah shook his head wearily. "I've never been here before, but an old friend once gave me some pointers. Number one is if a woman wearing cutlery on her head walks towards you, turn and run in the opposite direction."
They walked on for about half a mile, keeping their eyes forward, until the surrounding neighborhood improved. The streets here were free of debris and paved with white granite. The buildings were larger and less tightly squeezed together. The shouts from pedestrians on the streets were less vulgar. The gray fog, however, was just as dense.
"What's this 'Hand o' Bane' look like?" Jedidiah asked Walinda, mimicking the speech of the dwarf.
Walinda's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but after a moment's thought, she said,