THE QUESTERS, PART II

"Hello, Jonah," Dee said.

The Sword Priest Militant of the Jerse coast is a hard and beautiful woman. And she was well beyond being simply good with a sword. In fact, she was one of the best I've ever seen, and I've known a lot of sword-slingers. She might even be able to take my Uncle Ben.

Her name's Daisy, but if you ever meet her I don't recommend you call her that. She hates that name and prefers to be called 'Dee' instead. She's a fine-boned Wilder who was born without any hair. Her skin is pale blue and her eyes so dark that they sometimes seem to absorb light. Once upon a time, she and I were close, but at the moment she looked guarded. Given that our parting hadn't been on the best of terms, I could understand that.

"I hear you're fighting the Hand," I told her.

She gave me a long and grumpy look before replying. "The temples of the Jerse coast have been fighting the Hand for the last twenty years. Congratulations for noticing."

I ignored the sarcasm. "Do you need some help?" I asked.

Dee doesn't have eyebrows, just brow-ridges that are stronger than normal. But she raised them anyway.

"They say you're on the run," she said. She suddenly looked more curious than irritated.

I shrugged. "My family doesn't particularly desire my presence at the moment. I'm not running. I'm in exile."

Dee gave me a concerned look. "What happened? There are some stories about the death of your great-great-grandfather..."

She let the rest of her words hand. My great-great-grandfather had been the master of House Parker. And he had been taken over by something horrible - something that turned him into a tyrant and a monster.

Uncle Ben and I killed him.

Actually, my exile had everything to do with my great-great-grandfather's death.

Shaking my head, I said, "It's a long story and I really can't tell you any of it. So, do you need help killing ninja or not?"

She smiled at me. That brought back memories. "You're hired."

"Hired? You mean there's actual coin in this?"

She shook her head. "I was speaking metaphorically. We can't pay every exile, criminal, thrill-seeker, sell-sword, or other assorted trash who shows up on our front step - that would set a bad precedent. But I will give you bed and board."

That was what I needed, so I offered Dee my hand. She shook it.

"So about this bed..." I asked speculatively. "Does it come with any company?"

Dee snorted. "Those days are over, Jonah. Remember that."

I nodded. "I understand."

It was best that we cleared that up. Neither of us needed any of the complexities born of confusion.

Then Dee gave me a crooked smile. "But I give it a week before you try it with me. I know you, Jonah. You won't be able to help yourself."

She might have had a point, but it was also possible that she didn't know me as well as she thought.

"Where did the HELL did you get that armor?" Dee gasped at me. Then she side-slipped a blow from a short ninja blade, chopped deep into the arm that was wielding it, and kicked the ninja away.

We were in a nasty fight. It was a lot of Hand ninja against Dee, her acolyte war-band, and me. Some troops from the local Blood lord were also involved. Although they mostly just had the area surrounded and were making sure that none of the Hand could escape.

I guess I was one of Dee's band, even though I wasn't actually formally declared as a servant of the Lady of Blades. The Lady of Blades is one of the Blood-Wilder goddesses. She's the three-part joining of Elektra, Elizabeth, and Laura - the deadly and honored spirits of some, particularly dangerous warrior-women.

I have a strange relationship with the Lady of Blades. I respect her, but I don't worship her. She's apparently willing to tolerate me.

Actually, that's how it works with a lot of the women in my life.

Dee's agents had tracked a group of Hand into the under-city below Atlaceta. Then she gathered her forces - including me - and we went after them. We ended up in the sprawling and half-collapsed cellar of an ancient and long-forgotten ruin that probably dated back to the time of the Folk Ascendancy.

The Hand had agents selling a particularly vile drug throughout Atlaceta. Most peddlers of drugs don't particularly want to kill their customers - after all, that would cut into their profits - but the Hand saw things differently. They wanted their customers addicted, enslaved, and available to die at a time and place determined by the Hand. Most people can't really grasp their motives. You had to know the Hand's beliefs to understand what they were doing.

In one corner of the cellar was a small knot of terrified captives - mostly females and children. The prettier ones would be put to work selling their bodies. The others were waiting for their life-ending turn on a strange and dark altar. Their deaths would be prolonged and terrible. The Beast who the Hand worshipped demanded that.

It was disgusting, foul, and horrifying.

It was the Hand.

I vaulted up and over both Dee and the brawny acolyte who was covering her back. Attached to a wooden ceiling beam, I lashed out with all four quadrant-arms of Uncle Otto's strange armor. A ninja's head broke open. A steel spike punched through the chest of another. A third ninja was thrown against a far wall. One more ninja parried frantically and tried to press forward.

I leveled my left wrist at the parrying ninja and hit him in the eyes with a sticky packet of something like spider-silk. He tried to back off, but I dropped to the floor, lunged, and put my right-hand sword through his neck before he could get away. Gushing blood, he staggered off to the side and collapsed to his knees.

A pair of ninja were trying to flank us. Using the squirming ninja who was chest-impaled on my upper-left quadrant-arm as a club, I swept the other two ninja right off their feet. One of our spear-men stepped into the suddenly open gap, whipped his weapon around with impressive speed, and killed one of the fallen ninja with a downward thrust. Then he broke the jaw of the other with a butt-stroke. The spearman shot me a grateful look.

Dee's acolytes were startled by what I could do, and that was actually a problem. They were all distracted, but some worse than others. I had to help before they were distracted to death.

Bounding from place to place - ceiling, walls, and floor - I broke up Hand concentrations and pulled anyone who needed help out of trouble.

Dee and her people fought in a traditional line, and that was the best approach for them. I hit the Hand from every angle and direction I could manage. Always moving.

That was the best approach for me.

The fight was over. We'd won. The Hand ninja were mostly dead, but a few had gotten away - retreating deeper into the Atlaceta underground. A band of intent-looking Blood trackers were after them. I really didn't give much for the ninja's chances.

Perhaps a half-dozen of Dee's band were down. A healer was tending to the two or three who could be saved.

Dee pulled off her helmet. Her bald head was covered with sweat. She has to put extra padding in her helmet because of her lack of hair, but that made the helmet interior pretty warm.

I yanked off my mask, took a deep breath of then musky and humid air, and then wiped my brow with the mask.

After that, I pulled a Spider amulet from a wrist pocket and closed my eyes. I whispered a prayer of thanks to the First Spider, and also added a plea for the soul of my great-great-grandfather

Dee politely waited until I was done and had tucked the medallion away.

"You were useful," she admitted.

"Thanks, boss," I replied.

"I asked you a question," Dee told me crisply. "However, I accept that the situation at the time didn't allow for an immediate answer. Where did you get that armor?"

"My Uncle Otto made it," I told her. "I have it on loan from his widow."

Dee nodded slowly. "I've heard of him. According to everyone, he was a brilliant man."

Then she hesitated. And the carefully hidden Dee - the one who wasn't just a Sword Priestess Militant - made a brief appearance.

"I'm... sorry about the recent deaths in your family," she told me carefully. She left it at that. She obviously thought there was only so much she could say.

As far as the world knew, my uncle had been executed by my great-great-grandfather for the crime of dark-sorcery. Almost everyone I met just assumed that those charges were false, and I was grateful for that. Uncle Otto was a strange man, but he hadn't deserved what happened to him. And he didn't deserve to be remembered the way my great-great-grandfather had wanted him to be remembered.

Almost nobody knew the real story. I was fine with that, but there was also a not-quite-right theory that was becoming more and more popular among tale-tellers and market-place gossips. According to them, uncle Ben and I had avenged Otto's unjust death by killing the clearly mad and tyrannical head of Clan Parker.

That wasn't the complete truth, but it also wasn't completely wrong. I was willing to let people believe it. Uncle Otto was a man who loved a good joke, but he'd always had an odd sense of humor. He'd also been skeptical of the heroic tales told by the bards. I had the feeling he would have been amused at the way his legend was turning out.

However, my great-great-grandfather didn't deserve all of what was being said about him. What happened hadn't been his fault.

Dee must have seen the play of thoughts and regrets on my face.

"Jonah... I didn't mean to intrude," she told me very quietly.

"It's okay," I told her. That wasn't really true, of course. My family was a damned mess. And the deeds of my great-great-grandfather would stain our name for years to come. But a horrible threat had been eliminated and my family was on a better path.

It was the best we could hope for.

Dee allowed me a lot of freedom. I could pursue the Hand in my own way, as long as I came back when she needed me. I was her secret weapon.

So I wandered. And I wandered in more than one sense of the word.

A Blade acolyte named Leah got curious about me. We spent a few days together. Then she found me in bed with a Fire acolyte named Othenia. They both broke up with me, and I can't say that was unjustified.

A Blood sailor named Lavinia was next, we enjoyed each other's company as I prowled through the docks of the north-east shore, shutting down a Hand smuggling operation. But then her ship sailed.

After that, I stalked the woods and hills of northern Jerse. I found and killed a few Hand, but mostly I just gathered intelligence for Dee. There was also an odd incident where I saved a traveling band of entertainers from some bandits. The bandits were led by a hulking and powerful Scatter who - I'm not kidding - had a big horn in the center of his forehead. He was a tough character, but more stupid than evil. I left him chained-up on the doorstep of a local Blood lord. I later heard that the lord put him to work doing construction, and the horn-guy actually seemed to settle down and fit into that.

A pretty Folk shoemaker named Ada took up with me next. She had a friend named Zenda and we threesomed for a while. That was a lot of fun, but after a few weeks, it became obvious that Ada and Zenda were actually more interested in each other. They admitted it to me, gave me a spectacular farewell, and we parted as friends.

I fought a two-legged lizard who was lairing near the coast and forcing the local Folk to pay for his 'protection'. After an ugly fight and a long chase, he got away from me by diving into the sea. There wasn't a lot I could do about that, but I made a mental note to kill him when next we met.

One of the people the lizard had been extorting was a journey-woman herbalist named Jane. We began keeping each other company.

A pair of Blood beast-hunters tracked me down - they thought the eight-limbed version of me was some kind of dangerous monster who would make an entertaining addition to either a traveling zoo or the beast-fighting pits. It was a difficult battle when they finally found me, but they eventually figured out they were wrong about what I was. We ended up drinking in a tavern, but then some thugs jumped us. They were connected to those bandits who'd been led by the guy with the horn.

The two ronin and I defeated the thugs handily. The tavern's serving girls thought we were great and a rather exotic party broke out after the fight. Jane found out about the party and told me to go to hell. Again, I couldn't say she was wrong to feel that way.

All in all, it was a pretty eventful few weeks.

Then Dee sent word. She wanted me to meet her at an obscure Temple facility.

Dee and I met in a temple-fort on the edge of the Pine Barrens. We talked and compared notes about Hand activity.

Then the conversation became more personal.

"What is wrong with you?" Dee growled at me. "Why are you out of control?"

"What do you mean?" I asked back.

"You're screwing everything that moves. You're also drinking a lot and never miss a chance for a fight."

"That's not fair," I protested.

Dee gave me a steely look. Then she listed the name of every woman I'd been with lately. It was... more than I realized. More than even I thought was healthy.

But I wasn't quite ready to see it that way.

"Are you spying on me?" I accused angrily.

Dee laughed in my face. "Don't flatter yourself! Every Temple keeps an eye on all strange actors in their vicinity. And you're stranger than most."

"So you are spying on me!"

Dee took a deep breath. Then she let if out slowly.

"Is this because of whatever happened in Nyack?" she asked. "Your great-great-grandfather's death and your exile?"

I paused.

My arm was broken and it hurt like mad. I was sitting cross-legged in the middle of a rain-and blood-slick street. My great-grandfather's eyes - already dulling as death approached - looked up at me as I cradled his upper body. He tried to say something as blood poured out of his mouth.

I was crying so hard that I couldn't speak. I couldn't tell him that I was sorry...

I couldn't think of anything to say to Dee.

"Okay... it obviously is," Dee said with a sigh. "Do you want to talk about it? Can you talk about it?"

Not quite trusting myself to speak, I shook my head.

"And you also left somebody behind?" Dee asked. What is it with women and their extra-sensory ability to know about that sort of thing?

Dani and I were sharing a bed in a modest inn and we were between bouts of making love. We were quietly talking and, for the first time in years, I was for some reason able to unburden myself. I told her about my doubts and my fears. About what was happening to my great-great-grandfather and to my family. Dani listened patiently. Her questions were wise and helped focus my thoughts. More than anything else, that was what I remembered about her - not her firm body, or the ripple of muscle under my hands, or the way her sweat-soaked skin glistened in the late afternoon light.

There was something about Dani that was different from the other women I'd known in my life. But I had a mission, and Uncle Ben and I would soon be on the move. Staring up at the ceiling, as Dani dozed next to me, I felt a wash of sadness as I realized that after we said goodbye, I'd never see her again.

Just how much did I owe my family? And when would it end?

I smiled at Dee bitterly. "Yeah, but not in Nyack. I met someone out west. She's been on my mind."

Dee gave me a stern look. "So you're trying to fight, drink, and screw your problems away? How's that working for you?"

"It's not, but maybe that just means I'm not trying hard enough."

Dee looked disgusted. "What's her name?"

"Whose name?"

"The woman! The one you're trying to forget! This is exactly what you did after we ended it! For pity's sake, you were a disgusting man-slut for a good six months! Men as good-looking as you are a menace when they decide to plow every field they come across!"

"Why do you think this is any of your business?"

Dee snorted. "As the Sword Priestess Militant, it's none of my business. As your war-leader, it's none of my business. As an old girlfriend, it's definitely not my business. Unfortunately for both of us, I also happen to be your friend. That makes it my business."

That deflated me a bit. Dee has a talent for that.

"Her name's Dani," I told her reluctantly. "She's a Blood ranger who lives south of the Ont Sea, in the Nyagra region. I met her on a family mission and spent precisely one afternoon with her."

Dee blinked in surprise. "You're kidding me, right? One afternoon? And you've been running around like a spring bull ever since, trying to rut her out of your system? What's so special about her?"

I shrugged helplessly. "She's different," I said awkwardly.

"Is it because you're a Spider and she's a Blood?" Dee pressed. "Does that give it some kind of edge?"

Trust Dee to find an angle that I hadn't considered. Many would tell you that every moment Dani and I spent together was wrong and that we were courting disaster. I certainly hadn't thought of it that way.

"It's not that," I told Dee. "We were both busy. We had to part, but I think we left each other before we were ready."

Dee leaned back in her chair and smiled maliciously. Suddenly, I regretted telling her about Dani.

"This is justice," she announced happily. "Oh, goddess, thank you for allowing your humble servant to see this day! Jonah the Spider - the most infamous heart-breaker of Nyack - has been brought down. The bruised feelings of dozens of maidens are finally avenged!"

"'Maidens'?" I asked in disbelief.

Dee gave me a very hard look. She was perhaps a bit free with her favors when she was younger and I suppose she thought I was talking about that. Actually, I just prefer experienced women.

"Remember the part where you're supposedly my friend?" I reminded her.

"Remember the part where I'm your ex-girlfriend?" Dee reminded me right back. "I'm allowed to be petty about this. Hell, I have a right and duty to be petty about this!"

"We talked about us a long time ago," I reminded her. "I thought we settled it."

"Crap!" Dee erupted. "You settled it! I've been seething with resentment for years! How could you ditch me for that... that..."

Words failed her.

"Her name was Adriana," I said tiredly, "but as I recall, you mostly just called her 'bitch'. Sometimes to her face and in public. That was wrong and you know it."

Dee actually winced. She's proud of her ability to control herself. She did a bad job of that after we went our different ways.

"And the reason we parted wasn't because of me," I added. "It was because of your career in the Temple. You know that, too."

Dee kept on wincing.

"I tried not to be angry about that," I continued. "After all, the temple needed you, and you accepted the responsibility. But being the Sword Mistress Militant is a role that doesn't allow for much else. Or for someone in your life."

Still wincing.

"I was in love with you," I finished quietly. And that was true.

Dee closed her eyes, covered her mouth with her hands, and then let out a long breath.

"And I was in love with you," she admitted.

We looked at each other.

"Now what?" she asked.

I considered that. "Well, we certainly aren't going to end up in bed having sad and regret-filled sex. That would be just stupid."

Dee laughed. "It would be beyond stupid. It would be deranged."

A lantern was throwing a dim light throughout the small stone cell of the temple-fort. Dee and I were spooned together in a small cot.

"That was good," Dee said thoughtfully. She was curled up in front of me. She's tall but has always had a preference for being the small spoon. It was the only trace of submissiveness that I've ever seen her show.

"Oh, yes," I agreed fervently.

"And it was inevitable," Dee added.

"I think so," I told her.

"And it was a mistake."

"Oh, hell, yes it was."

"Is Dani still on your mind?"

"There is no way I'm going anywhere near that question."

She snuggled against me. "That's wise. Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we'll pretend this didn't happen."

"It's a plan," I agreed as I closed my eyes.

The next morning, we began spending the rest of our lives pretending that nothing had happened between us. Although I did enjoy helping Dee dress. Just as I remembered, her slim and muscular body was marked by numerous scars. However, quite a few were new to me.

Except for her general form, Dee didn't look much like Dani. And yet I found myself thinking about Dani.

Yeah, I had it bad.

We ate breakfast - fruit and some kind of local fine-grained porridge. There was a map on the table in front of us.

Dee tapped a spot on the map with the butt of her spoon. It was just west of Mahatan, across the Huds river.

"There's a fishing village there. A small place called Weehawk. The fishermen usually sell their catch in Nyack."

I cut up an apple as I nodded my head. I pushed half of the apple towards Dee.

"The Hand has been raiding the local temple and the rest of the general area. We're not sure why. And we've been way too spread out to do anything about it."

I nodded again.

"I need you to help them. And I need to know why the Hand is so interested in such a tiny place."

"I'm on it," I told her.

I joined a caravan heading up to the north coast as a paying passenger. I didn't hire on as a guard since I thought that would be more conspicuous. However, I still had the traditional defensive responsibilities in case something went really wrong during the trip. But, hey, what were the odds of that?

Remember that lizard-guy I mentioned before?

He showed up with a dozen friends.

The caravan was a mess. Scattered fights were raging all up and down the line of wagons, carriages, and struggling pack animals. A wagon was flipped on its side, its horses struggling and screaming in their tangled harnesses. Other horses raced madly in all directions. Right between my carriage and the wagon behind us, a caravan guard was down with a crude spear in his stomach. But he was Blood, so his claws were still out and he was stubbornly trying to get to his feet.

I'd been dozing in my carriage. Then I jolted awake as soon as the First Spider began screaming a warning to me. I yelled out an alarm - almost nobody heeded it - and yanked Uncle Otto's armor out of its pack. Getting equipped took longer than I would have liked, but that's a problem with any kind of armor when things go unexpectedly wrong. Do you take the time to put it on? Or do you just grab a weapon and start fighting?

The First Spider's warning gave me a head start. And the warning felt strong enough that I decided the armor was a good idea.

I helped the injured Blood stagger to his feet and then yanked the spear out of him. He grunted in pain as he began healing and gave me a look that was both startled and grateful.

Then I looked around for a target.

A big, two-legged, lizard came out from around a wagon. He was leading a pair of struggling horses by their halters.

"You..." the big lizard said to me. He was the one I'd fought weeks earlier.

"Good to see you again," I replied.

"You surprised me last time," he snarled. "I'm not running this time."

"Bad decision," I told him with a sad shake of my head.

He let go of the horses and they immediately galloped away. Flexing his massively clawed hands, the lizard bared his teeth at me and leaned forward in an aggressive crouch. He was eager for a rematch and not bothering to be even slightly careful.

I put my two upper-quadrant arms deep into his chest. The lower-right quadrant-arm went completely through his stomach and out his back. My last quadrant-arm crunched into his thigh and broke the femur. He fell, all but dead, his tail lashing wildly in his final spasms.

I cut his throat just to make sure. It took a second or two for me to tear loose the quadrant-arm that was through the lizard's stomach. Wow, did it stink.

But that was one bit of unfinished business that was out of the way.

I felt another thrill of the First Spider's warning. Pivoting away, I dodged a spear thrust. Another lizard had come up from behind me. Those damned things were faster and quieter than they looked.

He was way too close. Using my quadrant arms to assist, I leaped upward far faster than even a Spider could possibly leap. The side of my foot caught the lizard under the jaw. His jaw shattered, his neck broke, and he flipped completely end-over-end and landed in a heap. Me and my newly broken foot landed with a howl of pain. I'd never tried that trick before and wasn't going to try it again any time soon.

Cursing, limping, and really pissed, I went looking for something else to kill.

The fight was over, but now we had to deal with the aftermath.

I'd tucked away my armor. My Spider medallion was in my hands and my eyes were closed. I was giving thanks for surviving the fight, while at the same time praying for the soul of my great-great-grandfather.

"Did you see it?" an eager boy asked an exhausted-looking Angel guard. The dark-winged Angel was perched on the edge of a wagon and - like me - was waiting for his turn with the healer.

The Angel smiled down at the boy and tiredly fluttered his wings. He had a nasty and clumsily bandaged cut along one arm. I'd seen it happen. The Angel did the loyal and unsafe thing by swooping down to help a friend who was in trouble. He got his friend out of danger, but in the process was clipped by a tail-mounted blade.

"I did see him, young master," he told the boy. He had a bit of a back-woods Jerse accent.

"What did it look like?" the boy asked. He was obviously fascinated.

"Just like they say," answered the guard. "Huge. Eight limbs. Half-a-dozen eyes. Jagged fangs dripping poison. Black with some gray-white coloration. He mowed through the lizards, killing without mercy or pause. Until today I thought he was just a drunkard's tale."

The boy's eyes were wide in awe and wonder.

"It would have been worse for us if he hadn't been here," the guard added seriously. "Those lizards were dangerous. And they surprised us when they came out of the river. They were on the bridge and among our wagons in no time at all."

"That's enough tale-telling. Now go find your mother," the guard told the boy kindly. Then he gave the boy a gentle nudge with one of his wings.

The boy dashed off, eager to find his friends and spread his tales.

The mercenary-contractor guarding the caravan had a healing mage on staff. However, the healer did precisely what he was supposed to do in the aftermath of a battle and tended to the more badly wounded first. After I got out of my armor and hid it away, I sat on a carriage step and waited a long, long, time for my turn.

"How did you do this?" the mage asked in amazement. "It's like every bone in your foot is broken!"

I was gritting my teeth as he not very gently flexed my toes.

"A wagon rolled over it," I told the mage.

He gave me a doubtful look. "It looks more like you kicked something really hard."

"Look," I said in exasperation, "do you want a glorious tale of how I slew a dozen foes and was then bravely injured by a Scatter freak with a big club? There are plenty of people here willing to tell you something like that. My foot was crushed by a wagon wheel. Can you please fix it?"

The mage cracked a smile. "Okay. I'm not sure if you're being honest or modest, but I suppose either way it's none of my business."

"Thanks."

"I'm going to have to reset the bones before I cast the healing spell," he warned me.

"Go ahead. I'll just... YEEOOOWTCH!"

The Angel had the decency to cringe.

The carriage I was in took on more passengers. The caravan had lost some transport in the lizard attack and we had to find room.

I had my injured foot propped up on the bench opposite me, but in between the healer's spell and my own natural regenerative abilities, it was much better.

The pack containing Uncle Otto's armor was on the floor of the carriage, under my outstretched legs. I liked to have it where I could see it.

"You're the only man in this caravan who's not boasting about what a great warrior he was during the fight."

The Wilder woman speaking to me had already said that she was a trade-factotum. They escort caravan goods from location to location. It's a common introductory position for a person who wants to become a part of one of the big merchant houses. Personally, she was rather nondescript - just a pretty brunette with light brown skin who wasn't exactly young any longer, but who definitely wasn't old or even middle-aged. The only part of her that was genuinely striking were her bright and intelligent eyes.

She and I were the only people in the carriage who were still awake. A Folk father, mother, and child were peacefully dozing. The husband and wife leaning against each other, the girl in her mother's lap.

I shrugged. "That fight went badly for me. It happens."

"Where are you headed?" she asked.

"The north shore. I'm delivering mail for the Temple."

That was the cover Dee had set up for me. It was a good one. For example, it explained why I had a pack that I wouldn't let out of my sight.

The woman looked at me with her sharp eyes. "You don't look like a mailman."

"What does a mailman look like?" I countered.

"Older. Fatter. Less well-armed."

So she didn't know many mailmen. It's actually a dangerous job. And a real trade-factotum would know that.

"That's my ambition in life," I told her easily. "If I'm old, fat, and not carrying weapons everywhere I go, that means I've survived."

She smiled at that. Then she moved in a way that slightly emphasized her breasts. Nothing crude, but it was a suggestion of availability.

So what was I to make of her? She was attractive, but not striking. She was well-spoken and intelligent but didn't seem to be what she claimed to be. And as soon as it was possible, she'd found her way into my carriage and started a conversation with me.

And the First Spider was warning me about her. It wasn't a strong feeling, but it was definitely there.

I smiled back at the woman as I tried to figure out if she was working for somebody.

It was possible that she was merely a lone thief, interested in my personal goods or belt-pouch. Or perhaps just a predatory personality. There are people who see everyone else as either useful or non-useful. They're peculiarly soulless, but most of them are not dangerous as long as you have nothing they want and can obviously defend yourself. The First Spider warns you about them, but he isn't strident unless they mean real harm.

"My name is Jonah," I told her.

She smiled pleasantly at me and said, "Pleased to meet you. I'm Cali."

I nodded politely.