~ II ~
"What do you mean, gone for a year?" If Garrett was half asleep through Basso's monologue of how many passed up jobs he had because of his absence, he was awake now. He watched the cigar in Basso's mouth drop from his chapped lips to the papers on his desk.
"Look Garrett- ouch!...damned cheap cigar- All I know, is you fucking disappeared on me halfway through your last job. For a full two weeks after that, I had to sit and read news of some Northcrest disaster. No you, no Erin, no prize, no payment, no clients for months, no money for months. Look at me!" Basso roughly grabbed and pulled at his patched vest in emphasis. "I look terrible! I'm broke as hell because you ran off somewhere with that idiot girl and decided not to give me a heads up about it."
Garrett rubbed at his eyes in frustration. Nothing made sense. "Basso, I don't know what you're talking about. Erin…died and I blacked out on the roof trying to save her." The thief was pacing now, back and forth in the small room. "The next thing I know, I wake up on a wagon, guards chase me to the rooftops, some person is living in my Tower, and now you're telling me it's been one year since the Northcrest mission?!"
Basso's cigar dropped again as Garrett's voice hit an unusually loud pitch. "I came here for answers and you accuse me of making a romantic getaway with my failed protégé! Help me out here, Basso!"
"Alright, alright. I'm sorry about Erin. All I knew about was from the papers, okay? Look, I got a job. You take the job, I'll call us even, how about that?"
Garrett shifted uncomfortably at the familiarity of the offer. It seemed almost surreal to be back in this place, discussing work. Well, if a deal was being made, then it required some negotiating. "You tell me everything you can about that witch in my house, and I'll take your job. Then we're even." Basso crossed his arms and furrowed his heavy brows in thought. He reached under the desk for a small box, filled and overflowing with wrinkled papers.
"I might have something. What's she look like? Got a name?"
Damn it all to hell.
"…I don't know."
Basso stared at his friend incredulously. "You got someone living in your home, and you didn't even see what she looked like? You sure you didn't dream this?"
Garrett wracked his brain for something…anything that might help to identify her. "Okay, she's proficient with a bow and arrow. Whether by skill or luck, I'm not too sure. She can obviously climb well, her face was hidden in the high rafters of the tower. Sounded…my age maybe? Young, but not too young. Mature, but not old."
"That's it?"
"Yeah."
Basso sighed heavily and took a swig from a mug nearby. Flipping through the odd mass of files, he grunted and drew forth quite a few bundles. "Here are the files of the lucky ladies to have crossed paths with me and are still alive. These two here are high profile, and probably aren't your girl. This one is an ex-woman of mine, and a little round on the edges. Not very nimble. So she's probably out. These three…well, it obviously can't be Erin. So these two, are your best bets. The blondie is your typical House of Blossoms vixen. She likes to sneak out to steal dresses from the rich widows on the wharf. It's possible she found your little hidey-hole and liked it better than the House. Or, it could be this one."
Garrett reached for the remaining bundle of papers. The first page was a description of a woman dubbed 'Rita' in her late twenties. Basso met her after something referred to as the 'Gloom' set in. He scoffed at the remainder of the page.
"What, you see something spelled wrong? You know I hate grammar stuff. It gets on my nerves to try to be proper with documenting shit."
"You compared her thieving skills to mine." The Master Thief stated nonchalantly. It drew a hearty laugh from Basso.
"I forgot I did that! Yeah, she's good. I'd probably be drowning in the river if I didn't run into her for jobs."
Garrett rolled his eyes. "It really does sound like you had such a hard time without me, Basso." He casually flipped to the last page. It was a rough sketch of the woman. "This her?"
"Yeah. I only ever saw her with soot all over her face so she could hide better. But no amount of soot could hide those blue eyes. By the way, what the hell's wrong with yours? You go blind or something?"
What?
"What are you talking about." As a statement, the sentence had a venomous ring to it.
Basso paused nervously, as if going over any consequences that offending Garrett's gigantic ego might incur. "Your uh… right eye. It's blue."
Garrett snatched up the file for Rita and backed quickly from the desk. "The mission." He didn't have time for Basso's drunken antics tonight.
…
Fetching Cornelius's ring was by far the worst job he had ever had. It wasn't because of the massive presence of the Baron's Watch. It wasn't because of how challenging it was to simply get into the place. It wasn't even because of the fact that Thadeus had caught him red handed. Although that particular bit definitely struck a nerve.
The mission was so terrible because of the sheer amount of defiled corpses. Lives ended almost exclusively by the Gloom, tossed and ripped and torn to shreds in the name of 'waste-not'. It was enough to induce vomiting. Garrett leaned against the wall of a dark, musky corner of the alley, heaving up everything in his stomach from sheer disgust. He had never seen so many bodies. And the smell…that rotten stench would haunt his senses for years to come.
"…Fuck." He sighed heavily and stumbled away from his mess. With a dizzy head and sore body, the thief continued slowly through the darkness. He just needed to get home. For a small second, he thought there was something he might be forgetting; but that feeling subsided quickly. It was replaced with a wave of exhaustion and the only resultant thought he could muster was the want for sleep. Nightmares would most likely be the constitution of this night, but he'd come to accept it. Sometimes it came with the job. Though, this particular job would have him up early tomorrow to try to do something about what he saw that night. The Gloom might be the cause of death, but research was necessary to figure out the reasoning for the Watch's cruelty. Even thieves knew to leave a dead body alone.
Upon reaching the window, he noticed a few match boxes surely left by Jeneviere. That damned Basso would have to wait for a few days. It was comfortably dark in the foyer and satisfyingly silent. No noise of machinery clanking and rattling and hauling body after body. No eerie lighting against pale, lifeless cadavers from a heated furnace. Just…home, and it felt perfect.
Each step further into the dark left behind a different piece of his grimy armor. Tomorrow, he would pick them up and clean them; but tonight he only had enough energy to remove them from his tired being. He had successfully removed all but his undersuit by the time he reached the bottom stair. A small flicker of light seemed to dance in greeting to him. Garrett unbuttoned the last layer of clothing as he walked over to the light, eyeing the sapphire-crested coil in its pristine casing. It sat in its bed of velvet, royal and beautiful. The blue jewels glittered in the dim lighting. Nice to see that intruder hadn't taken any of his collected things.
Wait. The intruder. Garrett immediately pinched the candle and crouched. Could this be some sort of trap? If that woman truly was the thief in Basso's file, there wasn't any other reason that the coil was still there other than an ambush. His eyes scanned the now completely dark living area. Not a single instance of movement. Could it be possible that he wasn't giving enough credit to the woman's integrity? Perhaps she respected the belongings of another thief? He waited. When nothing happened, he relaxed his shoulders and stood once more. Paranoia is the death of a thief. Remembering his confidence, despite how tired he was, Garrett made way for his bed. At least the woman knew well enough to listen to him when he said he wanted her gone.
He collapsed on top of inviting sheets and quickly succumbed to sleep.