Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Oh bugger…

John woke up upstairs in his bed, with a foul, sour rot taste deep in his mouth and wondering how the hell it was possible to have two headaches at the same time. He gingerly probed the site of one, and found a depressingly noticeable bump. With a degree of horrified fascination, he touched it a little more until his none-too-steady, palsied fingers slipped and prodded it.

The stab of pain jerked him into a half-reclining position, spots blooming in dark blue iridescence across his eyes, and the headaches worsened cheerfully until his head felt like a single, massive throbbing vein. "Bugger," he tried, but his voice rasped as though his throat had suffered lacerations and was consequently hung out on the Sun to dry. "Bloody hell…"

"Serves you right for drinking, sparrow." John felt the bed depressing to one side, so he turned his head with some effort. A filmy shape resolved itself into Y'vair, sharpening her sword. Ah, so that was where the annoying screeching sound that was contributing to his headaches was coming from. Still operating on a primitive level, which spelled out 'Get Rid Of The Noise' in bright, glaring letters, he lunged for it, but she shoved him easily back onto the bed. "Swords don't stay sharp by magic. 'Twas you who drank too much for your own good, sparrow."

"Usually takes more than one tankard to knock me out, luv." John tried to come up with another snappy retort, but his brain refused to cooperate, instead giving him a hostile, halfhearted wave and running away deep into the recesses of his mind to recuperate in peace. "A lot more than one," he added fuzzily, in case Y'vair didn't get the point. Leaning back against the pillow, he closed his eyes. "Oh bugger."

"Maybe the alcohol on this world is stronger, sparrow." Y'vair shrugged. "You rather frightened Yoshimo. He's excruciatingly sorry for this breach of honor where he so thoughtlessly bought you the same alcohol as he was drinking, forgetting so unforgivably that it was rather strong." John cracked open an eye, to find Y'vair was grinning impishly. "I find him rather amusing."

"Where'd he go? Committed ritual suicide?" John chuckled despite himself, though the sound seemed more like a rattlesnake's tail shivering.

"Of course not. He took it within himself to go on inquiries for us. Said he'd go see if anyone's heard of Irenicus or where the Cowled wizards – that's what the brown robes are called, typically stupid name - put their prisoners. So he left me to baby-sit a sparrow with a hangover."

"Will you stop calling me that?" John put a pillow over his eyes. The light was too bright. Her voice was too loud. The bed was too hard. His head hurt.

"No, I find it's rather fun." Y'vair chuckled, but at least she stopped sharpening her sword. "Do you want me to sing you something?"

"No. Go away." She laughed, a merry sound, which in his current predicament he was in no shape to appreciate.

There was, to his other side, the sound of paws scuffing on carpet, a wet squeak, and a crunching noise. Dreading what he would see, he lifted up the pillow and turned his head, in time to see the end of a mouse's tail disappearing into the panther's mouth. It seemed to grin at him. Not for the first time, he wondered if the panther's spirit was feminine.

"That's the fourth one already," Y'vair said helpfully.

"If I throw up, I wonder if I can hit the two of you at the same time." Y'vair merely sniggered. John put the pillow back on his eyes with a heartfelt sigh. "How long have I been sleeping?"

"Few hours," Y'vair got off the bed, and by the sound of it, was sheathing the sword and putting it on a table. "Time enough for the two of us who were actually awake to sell all the junk and restock supplies. Some new scrolls for you to try and look at, then when you have less of a headache, I'd teach you how to cast them."

John considered smothering himself with the pillow, at which moment the door opened and someone stepped in. At this point he couldn't care less if it were Irenicus.

"There is a contact of the Shadow Thieves called Gaelan Bayle who would seem to know where they have taken Irenicus and K'yanae," John heard Yoshimo's voice say. "Ah, John Constantine has woken up. I am very, very sorry for what happened…"

"It's all right," John said hastily, before the thief could continue and maybe even burst into tears. "Probably my own fault."

"I found some tobacco in the slums," Yoshimo put something on the bedside table next to John. "And when you feel better, we have to see this Gaelan Bayle. His nephew will meet us outside the Copper Coronet in three hours, so you can sleep a bit more, or make these 'cigarettes' you keep talking about. We'd have to take everything when we leave…thieves, you understand."

John closed his eyes under the pillow, thought a moment, then opted for smokes.

**

The slums smelled uncomfortably familiar, like the more seedy parts of London – greasy scent of oil-smoke, the sour stench of unwashed bodies, garbage festering in the open under the sun, the sharp scent of fish laid out to dry. Flies outnumbered the people ten to one – John changed this figure to fifty to one after passing a house that hung out some sort of skins, still bloody. He wondered if the people actually knew that the skins would inevitably attract the flies, and decided he didn't care. The paving of the slums was a joke – mud, dirty water and sewage was in abundance more than cobblestones. Children played barefoot, with only what they could scavenge from the occasional garbage heaps for toys – small boxes, a bit of wood, some brightly colored string. There were no richly dressed people here – the inhabitants of this quarter contrasted starkly even with them. At least their clothes weren't patched and torn. The panther made little sounds of discontent at the scent, even if John was quite sure that it had to be used to it by now, after London.

Here were, according to Yoshimo, the dregs of Athkatla – those who lacked the ultimate 'virtue' here – money. "Athkatla is the capital city of Amn," Yoshimo chattered on, "Which is called the Merchant Kingdom, quite a suitable name. If you don't display obvious affluence, you are treated with contempt. Power is shared with the official government and the thieves' guild."

"Interesting," Y'vair pulled her hood further over her eyes. They had left their staves behind, seeing not much point in lugging the bulky things around. "Sort of like Baldur's Gate now – the Grand Dukes and the Black Talons."

"Ah, but K'yanae's father, who leads the Talons, is also a Duke, so the balance is better than it is here." Yoshimo pointed out. "I wonder how he'd react to the news. Lay siege to Athkatla and exterminate the Cowled wizards, maybe."

"Might be useful to have powerful backing," John stuck his fingers in his pockets, even if he didn't know anything about K'yanae's status, he had a fair inkling what a 'Duke' might be in this world. "Tell him?" Besides, the idea of someone exterminating all the Cowled wizards was very attractive.

"Eventually," Y'vair said dryly, "Once we find out how to get word to Baldur's Gate that won't be eaten up, hacked apart, murdered, hijacked, robbed, or just plain slaughtered on the way, since this is the Sword Coast. And, since this is Athkatla, the very few mages who are allowed to practice their portal-message services, according to Yoshimo, charge very, very high prices."

"How was I supposed to know?" John shrugged, but he was feeling better. The tobacco certainly didn't taste very much like what he had on his world – had some oddly rich, smooth taste, but it was passable.

"Here we are," Yoshimo said quickly, before Y'vair could say something sarcastic.

They had reached a large, sprawling building, red-tiled in areas, thatched in areas. From inside they could hear the sounds of reveling – loud, drunken laughter, and more chattering. John didn't understand one point about the building – there appeared to be buildings on it, as though its flat roof was just another street level. This sort of haphazard construction seemed characteristic of the slums. There were even, if he looked carefully, buildings on the buildings of the building, like some grotesque cake.

A small boy in typically scruffy clothes – though he was wearing shoes – ran forward from where he had been watching flies appreciate food hung out to dry, and grinned up at them. "There yer are! Me uncle's been waitin' long enough. C'mon, we mustn't be late." He gave no indication of having noticed the panther, as well.

He led them past a row of scrunched together terrace houses, to one that had expanded slightly into the street, but other than that looked no different. "In there," he said, then scampered away. With a shrug, John opened the door, and the rest followed him inside to a comfortably furnished room – bookshelves, a sofa, tables and chairs, nothing spectacular, but nothing drab either. A man lounging on the sofa, wearing leather armor, bounded nervously to his feet when they entered. He had a sallow, thin face, weasel-like, as was the rest of his body, and a twitch under his right eye. When he spoke, his voice wasn't much of an improvement.

"Cooo! I see that my nephew has done well! Welcome to Athkatla, John Constantine."

John blinked, then decided not to give the man any pleasure by saying what was expected – i.e. demanding how he knew his name, and concentrate instead on calming down his fists, which were itching to punch the 'Cooo!' out of him. "Whatever. I've heard you have information we should like to have. About Irenicus, and wherever they took him and K'yanae."

"Ah, the werewolf leader of the Baldur's Gate thieves," Gaelan Bayle said, with the gleeful look of someone who has everything going his way. "Well then, we Shadow Thieves have been watching your group, and with some payment we would be happy to help you."

"Shadow thieves? Help K'yanae?" Y'vair sneered. "The rivalry between thief guilds is quite well known, Mister Bayle." Even the 'Mister' was stressed such that it became not so much as a term of respect than that of contempt.

Gaelan Bayle was not distressed by the hostility. "We do not care about her, that is true, but we have interests of our own in seeing that Irenicus is…disadvantaged. He has caused some disruption in the city."

"Hence the lot of you fighting in his dungeon?" John snorted. "Didn't do a very good job of killing him."

"He is a powerful mage, the most powerful we have seen," Gaelan Bayle said defensively. "In any case, we know where they are kept, and we have the means to get you there."

"You could give us the information, and we'd find our way there. The good thing out of this arrangement is, you won't die," Y'vair said matter-of-factly. The panther glanced at them, then padded around behind Bayle, who, like all those it was considering biting, couldn't see it. John shook his head slightly at it, so it sat down behind the thief philosophically.

"Ah, but the exact place where they are is extremely difficult to get to, and is off any map in existence. It so happens we know the very way, the only way that can get you there."

"And you're going to help us out of the goodness of your heart?" John said dryly. "Somehow I find that very hard to believe."

"Of course that is not possible. You will have to pay a fee, and the price of the voyage, all of which would add up to fifty thousand gold coins." Bayle said calmly.

"Fifty thousand!" Yoshimo choked. "I don't think I've seen that much money in one place at one time!"

"Can't you lower the price?" Y'vair put one hand on the hilt of her sword.

"This is the lowest we can go," Bayle held his ground. "Bribes have to be arranged, and such, just to get you in."

"In exactly where, you haven't told us, you dickless little shite," John was growing very tired of Bayle's patronizing attitude. If the idiot told them where… "And we never said anything about wanting to go there."

Bayle looked surprised. "But…"

"As you said, Irenicus is the most powerful mage you've seen," Y'vair agreed. "And by what I saw when he took on all those Cowled wizards at the same time, as well as K'yanae, it is entirely likely that if we were to fight him, the fight would be exceedingly one-sided, and to our disadvantage."

"So," John continued, with a grin, "You could tell us where he is, and we'd proceed from there."

"Revenge…" Bayle began, obviously losing it.

"Unlike certain people, I happen to know that revenge can be had without having to personally step up to him and stick a sword in his gut," John said coldly. Yoshimo was staring at Y'vair and John with a certain degree of fascination, as one would stare at a heirloom that has always worked perfectly for forty years but suddenly goes quite cuckoo.

"Then your friend…"

"No doubt she's a very nice person, but I can hardly call her friend – only known her for a few hours," John continued.

"Right, fine," Bayle gave up. "I have to inform my superiors of this new…development. But the offer still stands, if you are interested."

"So, where is this place?" Yoshimo asked again. "You have avoided telling us. We could always, of course, go to the Government district and bribe other Cowled wizards, but if you wish us to even consider your offer again, you'd better provide something of use."

Bayle shrugged. "Information is never free. If you accept the offer, and if you raise the money, then you will be told. You will not be able to force it out of me, because I have not been told either."

"Now that was very helpful," John remarked sarcastically when they left the house.

"He knew about us," Yoshimo explained, "Our names, and what had happened. Shadow thieves are good spies. So I thought…ah hell. I should have remembered that Shadow Thief help isn't always the best sort. But in this case it seemed the only sort."

"Good try, though. Maybe we should seriously consider petitioning Baldur's Gate," Y'vair suggested, looking resigned. "Perhaps the Black Talons would know. And fifty thousand is nothing to K'yanae's father."

"Should we even discuss this in the open?" John glanced around, frowning. "I think someone's watching." The prickling sensation he got on the back of his neck when something he had a bad feeling about was near was starting. The panther growled in assent.

"Everyone's staring. If you don't look like you're the down-in-the-gutter poor here, you'd get stared at," Yoshimo brushed it off. "And since the whole world seems to know what we're here for – damn spies – then I see no point in conspiracy."

"So where to now?" Y'vair asked a very pertinent question.

"We could try to raise the money," Yoshimo said doubtfully.

"Is there a rich quarter in this city?" John asked, fingering the bulge of the tobacco pouch.

"Of course." Yoshimo glanced at him. "You're not suggesting robbery, are you? Guards are everywhere."

"Wouldn't dream of it," John smiled. "I can explain later. Just bring us there."

"Could be some in the Copper Coronet. Sometimes the nobles go in there to have a drink and some company." Yoshimo led them back to the grotesque building.

**

Rowdy could be a good word to describe the interior. Its many patrons filled the tables that seemed to be arranged randomly, without any sort of discernable pattern. John idly tried to count the amount of meat roasting on the spits on the large grille in the center of the room, and trailed off, adjusting his eyes to the light. Yoshimo and Y'vair, caught up in their game of 'Spot a likely nobleman', were too happily preoccupied to notice that, for a change, they weren't drawing any stares. Even in this place there were guards. John wondered how much tax the city charged.

"There's one there near the foot of the staircase, the one with the sword," Y'vair murmured. "The emboss on his breastplate is very rich."

"The one with the dragon design? Could be," Yoshimo said critically. "Well, John Constantine?"

John shrugged. When they were close enough he walked up to the man and just looked at him. The man turned, and John frowned – there was something wrong about him – as though he wasn't…human. Deciding not to stare, he murmured an apology and was about to go when the man spoke imperiously. "You look like a likely adventurer. Are you interested in money?"

"Aren't we all?" he said casually, wondering why synchronicity wasn't working for him. Unless…well, synchronicity had never really worked with demons before. A demon? At this point, he felt the panther nudge his leg, and growl a warning.

"I am Lord Jierdan Firkaag," he said coldly. "Do you have associates, adventurer?"

"I might have," John decided not to reveal more than was necessary. "How much money?"

"Oh, perhaps forty thousand, but it is negotiable," Firkaag said airily. "To clear up a spot of trouble on my land."

"Forty thousand sounds a lot for just a 'spot of trouble'," John pointed out. "What sort of trouble?"

"Bandits, some monsters are the most of it, but the trouble itself are two groups of adventurers trying to steal my gold," Firkaag said angrily. "One group calls themselves paladins, and the other is a motley group of treasure hunters. Get rid of them."

"That's all?" John had the feeling Firkaag was withholding information. "How big are these groups, then, if that is all?"

"You might experience difficulty if you were to take them on yourself, as they have about seven skilled members in each. Spellcasters, fighters, and such." Firkaag said, with an intense stare. John had seen less intense stares on rabid falcons. "Well?"

There was definitely something not right about the man. "Where is this place, then?"

"My lands are in the Windspear Hills. No doubt you can find your way there without getting lost. I'd see you there, eventually. When you finish the deed, find me in my dwelling there – the ruins northwards of the small village. It should not be too hard to locate." Firkaag inclined his head arrogantly and strode away. His attitude problem rather reminded him of a certain now-fallen Archangel that John had orchestrated the downfall of, and that rather cheered him a little.

"Well?" Y'vair approached and poked him in the shoulder. "Was that it? I thought you were going to somehow…"

"Didn't work on him," John murmured. "Next time pick me someone human, okay?"

"Human?" Yoshimo's eyes widened.

"Synchronicity doesn't work on the demonic, which is probably why I haven't managed to stop Y'vair from calling me sparrow," John winked at her, "So. But he said something of interest. If we were to go up to the Windspear Hills, wherever that is, and clear up something which he doesn't seem to be able to clear up, then we can collect forty thousand beans. Those somethings involve 'paladins', other adventurers, monsters and bandits."

"Beans?" Yoshimo looked even more confused.

John sighed. "Coins. Money. Slang word."

"Ah." Y'vair said absently, then frowned. "He wasn't demonic. I would have sensed it."

"Wasn't human either, luv." John said firmly, and looked down at the panther, which was still growling to itself and scanning the room for him. "Believe me on this."

"Very well…so do we do it, or…" Yoshimo asked. "Just three of us? I apologize, but I do not particularly wish to confront those which he spoke of."

"Find me a human nobleman," John grinned.

"Well, while you were talking to Firkaag, sparrow, we spoke to the person who owns the Copper Coronet. Name of Lehtinaan, a slimy bastard, but after we implied we had a lot of money he agreed to let us into the back rooms, where the more degenerate nobles go to have fun." Y'vair nodded up at the top of the staircase, where a bouncer stood at a door.

The bouncer let them through – to a small open space, which led to a corridor with rooms on either side. By the smell, this was quite likely the brothel.

"Good afternoon, lady," a young man, dressed richly but tastelessly in foppish clothes of many mismatching colors, and in tights (tights?) approached them, or rather, approached Y'vair, whose hood had fallen back enough to reveal her face, though not the ears and horns. "Would you be interested in…"

Before Y'vair could react, John stepped forward. "No, I doubt she would be, but…"

"Oh! I was just thinking…" the man smiled brightly. "Here, my purse – it's all the money I have now, but…"

"That'd do fine. Thanks," John took the heavy purse.

"It's the least I can do," the man was still smiling brightly, such that John's jaw ached in sympathy. "If you need to find me, my card is in the purse! See you around…" he shook John's hand, then left the room.

John wordlessly handed the purse to Yoshimo, whose mouth was open. So was Y'vair's.

"How did you do that?" Y'vair blinked. "Are you…do you have psionic powers?"

"That, was synchronicity," John shrugged. "It's difficult to explain, but yes, it's magic. Usually I try not to use it because it attracts attention on the world where I come from, and I seem to collect enemies like a black wooly shirt collects lint." They seemed out of earshot of anyone who might be eavesdropping.

"Why didn't you try it on Bayle?" Yoshimo asked, looking through the purse. "Must have a thousand in here, if you include the value of the baubles. Amazing."

"Because he didn't know where they were, and the Shadow Thieves sounds like a big group, too many to put the mojo on." John glanced around. "A thousand, you say? Maybe we can find fifty more." He grinned. "But we're being watched, so I think we should settle for fleecing those in this building."

"Sounds like a plan." Y'vair grinned.

As if on cue, yet another foppish man – with a scantily clad woman clinging to his arm, giggling inanely, emerged from a room. He was obviously drunk, as he weaved towards them. "Have you seen my wife around?" he asked. His breath smelled of stale beer, and the group tried not to breathe too deeply.

"Who?" Y'vair asked politely.

"Why, Tania of course. I thought everyone's heard of her. Or could hear her. I forget." He nuzzled the neck of the woman, who giggled louder.

"Oh darling! I love it when you do that…mmm…"

"Haven't seen her," Y'vair winked at Yoshimo, who tried to keep from sniggering. John raised an eyebrow at them, but Y'vair gestured for him to keep silent.

"Oh well then, if you see her, do tell her I'm not here." The man started kissing the girl enthusiastically, even with her murmured protests that they were in public. Y'vair grinned wickedly, waved them to stay, then walked quickly out of the door.

"What…" John began, but Yoshimo hushed him.

Suddenly there was a loud commotion outside. "Let me in! Let me IN right NOW, you horrible little MAN!"

The poor bouncer's couldn't get out of the woman's way fast enough. "Yes ma'am! Er…right ma'am."

John saw a hard-faced woman; hair tied into a stern bun, bearing down on them, after having shoved the bouncer out of the way. He felt like a rabbit caught in a car's headlights, but it turned out that she wasn't looking for him. "Rhonar? RHONAR! Where are you?"

"Tania!" Rhonar, the man with the giggling girl, gasped in horror.

"RHONAR!" Tania marched past them, practically sizzling with fury. John found himself backing into the wall, Yoshimo included. The cat made a sound somewhat like a whimper. "You little slut! Get away from my HUSBAND!"

"Slut?" the girl's breathy voice hitched higher in indignation. "I'd give you slut, you…you harpy!"

"Harpy? HARPY? That's IT!" Tania drew a dagger and charged. The girl also drew a dagger. The ensuing catfight could have been amusing, but from a distance – as Rhonar watched in horror, Tania cut down the other girl, after suffering some deep scratches.

"There! THAT SERVES YOU RIGHT, you SLUT! Rhonar, come home with me THIS MINUTE!"

"You…you killed for me?" Rhonar stared, wide-eyed, at the corpse of his former paramour.

"Of course I'd kill for you! Any SLUT who lays hands on my HUSBAND…"

"Oh my honey bun…" Rhonar simpered.

As they made their way out, they passed a very amused Y'vair, who waited till the couple had left, before laughing out loud. "By the Gods. I have never seen such…" she laughed a little more, gasping sobs of mirth, "I simply must write a song about this."

John looked at the body. For some reason, life seemed to be valued less on this world…on his, Rhonar was likely to run screaming to the nearest policeman, but here…John found himself chuckling as well. Yoshimo still looked stunned. "What a tiger!" he said, shaking his head.

"I suppose you saw her downstairs, luv?" John grinned at Y'vair.

"Yes. She grabbed Yoshimo and demanded if he'd seen her 'no-good philandering bastard of a husband'," Y'vair mimicked Tania's rough voice perfectly, then dissolved into laughter again.

"Are we going to continue?" Yoshimo asked, after she calmed down.

"Considering what takes place behind those doors, I don't think this is a good place to look," John said slyly. "Couples won't be paying much attention to my magic."

"There are other rooms, I suppose." Y'vair opened another door. It led to a staircase descending into another dimly lit room, from which they could hear distant murmurs of voices. "Down there?"

The staircase led to a cold stone corridor, which seemed uniform to John, but Yoshimo stopped suddenly at what looked like a perfectly ordinary stretch of wall, glanced at it, and then pressed something. With a rumble, the stone slid away neatly to a hidden recess, being much thinner than the actual walls – and the scent of opium assaulted John's nostrils.

"Drugs," Y'vair sighed. "These people won't be very receptive either, would they?"

"They won't be very conscious either," Yoshimo smiled. "Stay here." He entered, to return afterwards patting his pockets. "Not as much as the purse, but rather satisfying."

"We'd take forever to raise fifty thousand," Y'vair sighed.

They came up to a steel-bound door, which Yoshimo philosophically lockpicked. It turned out not to be a good idea, because the guards inside immediately attacked. Being armored with helmets, John opted to use throwing knives, and downed one, the knife quivering in the man's throat as he went down. His second knife glanced off another guard's armor, but it didn't matter – the panther pounced and tore out the guard's throat.

Yoshimo proved rather good at a bow – managing to take out another guard – and Y'vair engaged with a magical battle with the mage. Shields were raised, then each side tried to break down the other's shields – but due to the mage not wearing armor, when his shield against missiles (according to Y'vair) went down, Yoshimo picked him off, as well.

The last guard charged with an enraged yell, swinging his sword, and Y'vair engaged him, retreating in a circle until the guard's back faced Yoshimo, who promptly backstabbed the guard with his own sword.

"Everyone okay?" Y'vair was breathing heavily. "Got hit by a dart in the arm, but it doesn't smell poisoned." She dropped the object. "Don't think it's deep enough to waste potion on…" she tore out a piece of a guard's cloak and used it to staunch the blood flow.

"Arrow nicked my ear," Yoshimo shrugged. "Nothing important."

John had managed to stay unhurt, due to luck and the fact that he had been slightly behind Yoshimo and the door. He realized, belatedly, that there were other people in the room – prisoners, perhaps, behind bars. Then he realized that a number of them were children, about thirty, who stared at them in fear.

"What the…" he walked up to the cell with adult men, armed men, in it. "What's this?"

"We are slaves," one of the men said. "Slaves of Lehtinaan, forced to fight for entertainment in his arenas. You killed the guards – so you are not of his men?" He had a voice that sounded as though he was talking from his throat – flat and slightly breathless.

"Children fight?" John said disbelievingly.

The faces of the adults darkened perceptively. "The children and women are sold. Lehtinaan picks them up from the streets, those who won't be missed. Sold for cheap labor that requires nimble hands, or worse things. I beg of you, free us!"

John looked to the other two, who nodded. There were lives of children involved, and they had to try…this instinctual protective urge, in John's case, had been unconsciously strengthened due to Newcastle. The thought of leaving them all to their fate didn't cross his mind – or if it did, crossed in the manner of a soldier crossing an area under fire – i.e. as fast as possible.

Yoshimo looked at the locks. "These don't look conventional…"

"More odd twisting bits of metal?" Y'vair rolled her eyes. "Honestly, these people…Right then, do you know where to get the key?"

"The Beastmaster has it," the spokesperson for the prisoner said. "He's somewhere southwards of the arena – the door to it is that one. Beware, his animals protect him. May the Gods bless you!"

The arena was deserted except for a winter wolf that the panther took care of. It was mostly made of three circles of rails around large, relatively shallow pits where presumably men fought against men, or against animals. The rest of the arena was sandy ground, with an upraised platform that looked as though it was a spectator's stand. The aforementioned door was open – through which they could hear the grunts and growls of animals.

Yoshimo sneaked around such that he was at the side of the door, then motioned for them to do the same. They'd noticed a man dressed in skins and chain mail armor at the end of the corridor, patting something that looked like a huge leopard. At a cue from Y'vair, they leaped out, and Yoshimo shot an arrow, but the Beastmaster stood up in his surprise, so instead of hitting his throat it glanced off his chain mail. A second arrow managed to bury itself in the skull of the giant leopard, which promptly dropped dead.

"No!" the Beastmaster shouted, a howl of grief. He yelled a command, and beasts shuffled out of their cells, growling with maddened intent.

Y'vair chanted something, and fire spat out from her fingers, singeing the hair of a bear, which roared in pain and fear. The animals, afraid of the fire, surged back from Y'vair, in their haste to run from the lengthening frame trampling the Beastmaster, whose arrow jerked in flight and barely missed John, who was hauled out of the way by Yoshimo. The rest of it was a slaughter – picking off the animals with slings, throwing knives and arrows, and when enough were down and the Beastmaster, one leg useless, tried to stand up, the panther was there.

Eventually they sorted through his things and picked up what was of value – better arrows and a bow, but nothing else other than the key, which they used to free the prisoners.

"We will fight our way out and kill the guards," the spokesperson said, "Can you escort the children out? There is another way – a door in the arena. The way we will take should have more guards – I hear their voices, the alarm has been given."

"Fine," John said, feeling uncomfortable as the children huddled around the three of them.

"My debt to you cannot be paid," the man bowed. "My name is Hendak, and we shall talk again after I kill that bastard Lehtinaan."

Feeling like sheepherders, they escorted the children through the arena to the door, which, as fate decreed, was open and through which some guards were charging through, no doubt attempting to take the slaves from behind.

"Oh, fu-" Too many – seven guards. Six now – the panther having reacted faster than them. Yoshimo grimaced as an arrow buried itself into his left shoulder, but drew his katana with his right hand – he couldn't use a bow with the injury. Y'vair stunned a guard with a pink ball (what was this with funny spells?), close enough for Yoshimo to cut his throat, then summoned up some orange pelted wolves which served as a distraction while John practiced throwing daggers.

One of the wolves went down, but not before it hamstrung a guard. As said guard cursed and dropped, the panther was there. Another guard tried to stab blindly at the panther, which it could not see, but it moved out of the way and crushed his wrist. The remaining wolf lunged, fangs closing on the guard's neck, twisting as the guard fell, snapping bone.

Three more guards – better odds, but not by much – two had reached Y'vair, and Yoshimo was being harassed by the last, useless arm hanging by his side. Since Y'vair was closer, John opted to help her first, grimacing, physical combat not being his good point, but slingshot broke the nose of one, causing him to stagger back, long enough for Y'vair to thrust her blade home. The other took advantage of the opening to raise his sword, so John used his throwing knife, embedding one in the palm of his hand such that he yelped and dropped it. Y'vair pirouetted gracefully and slashed him across the neck.

A loud clatter alerted them – Yoshimo had been disarmed, and was backing away quickly. The panther lunged, knocking down the last guard with a growl, and the rest was predictable as Yoshimo stepped on the guard's sword hand as he attempted to stab what he could not see.

Breathing hard, they turned to look at the children – though obviously frightened, they were unhurt. There was a flash of orange light as the summoned wolf disappeared, and the panther sat down to wash itself of blood. Yoshimo yanked out the arrow with a grunt, and took some potion, as did Y'vair.

"Again you are unhurt, sparrow." Y'vair grinned.

"Always been lucky, luv." John retrieved his throwing knives as he usually did, wiping them clean. "Where I come from, I'm banned from most gambling areas."

They led the children out, in time to see Hendak kill Lehtinaan. Oddly enough, the city guards didn't react at all.

"My friends!" Hendak called to them. "You have freed the children! Ah, my debt, as I have said, cannot be repaid. You will always be welcome here – I have taken over this place from this scum." He kicked Lehtinaan's body contemptuously. "But I am afraid I have one more thing to ask of you. There is another slave enclave I believe, underneath this place that can be reached through the sewers. There is where they keep the rest of the children…"

"Why don't you ask the city guards? Or is slavery allowed here?" John asked, once they were close enough. Y'vair herded the children to a side and stood there rather protectively.

"This city is a bureaucracy," Hendak said simply.

"Ah, point taken," John grimaced. The time it took for bureaucracies to act was legendary. "Damn. I think we need more potions."

"I can help with that." A corpulent man approached them.

"This is Bernard, the barkeeper," Hendak introduced. "He can show you the stores. Everything is on me."

They equipped themselves with some better weaponry and potions, as well as some mage scrolls for Y'vair, and emerged to see Hendak speaking earnestly with a well-dressed young woman, who, from the richness of her clothing, looked noble-born.

"Lady Nalia here says that she would be willing to take care of the children, having the funds to do so, but there is a problem with her castle," Hendak told them.

"Could you help me? My father is inside it, and I barely got out. No one's been willing to help so far…" she trailed off nervously. Her hair was braided elaborately over a face that could be called pretty, and which John oddly instantly disliked. He was prone to irrational urges on occasion.

"What sort of trouble?" Y'vair sighed. "Everyone seems to be interested in us today."

"Trolls," Hendak said simply.

"What!? And you expect us to help you? Against a castle full of trolls?" Y'vair exploded. "Have you any idea…those things are huge! They eat people! They also can't die unless you burn them!"

"The gladiators will help," Hendak said soothingly, "Because Lady Nalia has offered them room and board there, if they would help her free the castle. And there is nowhere else the children may stay…"

"Look, our primary goal is to locate this guy called Irenicus and wherever the Cowled Wizards took him and a friend of ours, understand? We are not heroes for hire!" John decided to join in. "Unless you have fifty thousand gold coins to spare for us to get the information and the help, I think we'd just free the children in the sewers, and you take care of the rest."

"Or, if you happen to know a fast way to get word to Baldur's Gate," Yoshimo added as an afterthought.

"A wizard…" Nalia hesitated. "I know a wizard in Athkatla who might be willing. He is an old family friend, and he has the necessary spells. I have heard him speaking with my father before via a large mirror. But, I will only bring you there to him when you help me. After you help."

Y'vair and Yoshimo looked to John. John shoved his hands into his pockets. It looked as though they had little other choice.

"Right, fine. So we go to the sewers to free some kids, then we go free a fortress full of trolls. Bloody hell! Why don't we just go fight some bloody dragons and rescue some bloody princesses while we're at it?"

--

Little Notes and References:

Synchronicity: Unfortunately, I'm not exactly sure how John's magic works – except that at times he can be very, very persuasive – though not to certain people, and only to a certain extent, or he would have told the First of the Fallen to invade Heaven by himself. That sort of thing. However, what I got by the Trenchcoat Brigade issues was that he can use it to find a way out of an area, or find something, but it doesn't work properly all the time. Besides, as he said, it attracts attention – one time it caused him to drop his guard, and got sent on a traumatizing witchwalk in some apocalyptic America by Papa Midnight.

I got the first Books of Magic, and there are two references to his magic in it, rather vague, even contradictory. It's all perception, I suppose. Boston Brand says 'He's riding the synchronicity freeway, and so everything just falls into place; time, movement, even distance just sit up and beg for him.' Zatanna says 'John, you don't have any power to speak of. Any one of them could have torn you to shreds.' This is when John rescues her and Tim from a party full of evil creatures, just by saying that the boy's under his reputation, and wondering if anyone wanted to start anything. He's mostly a trickster, apparently, but then again he sort of appears later, admittedly dying, in an alternate future which Tim visits, where he was participating in a huge magical fight, or rather, he'd already participated. He does do magic in his own books (d'oh), but they're rather odd, and won't really apply in the FR sense, I think. Ah heck, just have to see what I can do.

In another Books of Magic, can't remember which trade paperback, John threw knives rather well. ;) Or a knife, non-plural.

So as you can see, I have no idea, which means, I'm free to make up something, haha. Different world! Different world!

The Rhonar Incident: This actually happens in the game, and it's much more fun to snitch on Rhonar. J

Newcastle: I think I explained this before in Rebel Heart. Basically the most traumatic incident (I think) in Constantine's life, where a little girl called Astra, due to the household having demonic problems and hence calling John and band for help, trusted him to protect her. However, due to cockiness and the arrogance of youth, he made a mistake, and condemned Astra to hell. This severely traumatized him for a long, long while – and also caused him to end up in an asylum for the criminally insane called Ravenscar.

The Plot: Is getting away from me, since I have to change bits of it since the story is no longer hinged on someone being a Bhaalspawn and having to rescue his half-sister. Yes, I don't like Nalia. To all those who haven't played Baldur's Gate II, she sucks – dual classed level 4 thief and mage (which can advance, but the thief can't). She is a sad replacement for Imoen, she has an annoying voice ("This is *almost* beneath me"), and I just don't like her.