Masquerades - Kate Novak [7]
From the passageway beyond, the old dwarf heard the redhead say, "You'd better get moving, boys. I may not give you a second chance."
The dwarf moved back from his tap as three men came rushing toward him and clambered over the keg of ale. The crowd howled with laugher, for all three men were naked save for their domino masks. These they clutched in a desperate effort to conceal what modesty they had left. The trio bolted through the crowd as fast as they could and disappeared into the dark streets. No doubt they stopped eventually to steal some new clothing, but they were not seen in Westgate again.
As Dragonbait and Alias climbed over the keg, the brewmaster offered them both a mug of ale from the barrel Alias had purchased. Alias declined, but insisted that Dragonbait enjoy a pint.
While the saurial sipped his beverage, Alias drew out the loaf of bread she'd bought and began using it to wipe green goo off her sword. She offered the paladin a bite first.
"You know I hate avocado," he replied.
Alias shrugged. "I've gotten quite fond of it. It has that rich, buttery flavor. The flavor of revenge." She popped into her mouth a chunk of the bread spread with green fruit.
"Was there a point to all of that, other than to amuse the crowd?" Dragonbait asked.
"A point?" Alias repeated. "We don't need a point. They tried to rob us, and we got even. It was a good joke. Humor, remember humor?" She finished polishing her sword and sheathed it next to the saurial's enchanted blade.
Dragonbait sipped his ale, looking at her over the top of his mug with a sad, paternal stare.
"All right," Alias snapped. "There was a point. Those three may actually reconsider their lives of crime. At the very least, they won't be leaving their masks behind tonight."
Dragonbait blew the air out of his cheeks with a har-rumph. "Three tiny leaves plucked off the tree of evil."
"The axe hasn't been forged that's big enough to cut down the Night Mask tree in Westgate," Alias argued. She took another bite of avocado and bread.
"Then one must dig out the roots," the paladin replied.
"Dig out the roots. What's that supposed to mean? We came here to make a deal with Mintassan the Sage, not go into the tree-pruning business."
"I thought you might want to help the people of West-gate, free them from the shadow of the Night Masks."
"Why would I want to do that?"
"You grew up here, after all," the saurial said with a sly grin.
Alias glared at her companion, uncertain if he was trying to get her to renounce her false memories or really hoped to get her entangled in the web of treachery that made up
Westgate's power structure. "I did grow up here," she insisted. She looked up at the buildings around her. The memories felt so real, so fresh. She'd been on this street before, when she was just a little girl, chasing a cat she'd hoped to keep as a pet. "As a matter of fact," she declared, "our house was just around the corner. I can show you." She slid off the keg of ale and headed down the street.
"Alias, please, don't-" Dragonbait called. Now he wished he had not teased her." When her memory betrayed her like this, it often ended in pain for her.
But Alias was now in another world, one of nostalgia for a past she didn't really own. "Come on," she called back over her shoulder. "It shouldn't take us too far off our route."
"Boogers," Dragonbait muttered. It was one of the foulest curses Olive Ruskettle had ever taught him. He shouldered the ashen staff and loped after his companion.
"Around the corner" turned out to be one corner, three blocks, a second corner, an alley, and another corner. The part of the city they traveled through had seen better days. The cobblestones were intermixed with potholes and bald patches where locals had quarried the street to patch up their chimneys and