"And what's he got that you don't got?"

"Exactly." Savio nodded, then gulped a few mouthfuls of ale. "'Cept a good long rest in the brig. I've been out here keeping you lot in line for years on end. Know the place in and out. He's been here one day, not even, and the captain appoints him head of the whole block."

"Sounds unfair." With his foot, Marco pushed the bag further under the table. Slowly, so Savio wouldn't hear. But no need to go too slow, because Savio was human. "I've never seen Captain Lia around. Maybe she doesn't get out here enough to see what you do."

"Must be it," agreed the portly guard. "Or politics. Never could stand those. Good work should be rewarded."

Prisoners were given a much different saying: Work is its own reward. Marco liked the version the guards told themselves better. "Or maybe she has another reason for choosing him." Marco didn't know Savio's captain, but he needed the man excited. He'd pushed his bag far enough. He flailed with his leg to snag the handle of the one resting next to it.

He kicked something that felt suspiciously like a knee.

"Wha..." Savio looked down at the table.

"So," Marco shouted far too loudly, whoops. "What's Niccolo like?"

Savio looked at his face, considering. Answer me. Don't look under the table. Answer me. Marco should've kept speaking, kept spinning, but his breath caught in his throat.

The guard relaxed. Apparently complaining was more important. "He's soft. went in for fraternizing. you'd like him." The guard flashed a toothy smile, apparently not realizing that what they were doing could also be called fraternizing. "Why the captain thought that's the best man to knock block C into shape... Seems like the worst one to me. Warden's on his way, we need to keep you lot in line."

"Sav?" came a voice from the hall. Maybe Vico. He usually shared Savio's shifts.

"Ah, stars." Savio turned to the door. "Coming!"

Marco swung his foot under the table and snagged something. As Savio pushed his chair back, Marco used the sound and yanked whichever bag he'd snagged under his chair.

Then Savio stood up and downed the rest of his mug. "Alright, Marco. Another time." He grabbed the bag still by his feet and walked from the cell.

Marco released his breath. The bag in Savio's arms had been his. He'd done it. Oh, there would be repercussions. Even if Savio didn't report him - And he would look terrible to his superiors if he did so - a guard could make an inmate's life worse in plenty of ways. Marco could try to wipe his identity, maybe smuggle himself into another block... But the whole point of this was to get out of debt with Renato. Who knows what the elf would demand for a new name?

Marco opened the bag. Inside, giving it weight, was a rock. How-

"That was close," came another voice from the hall. "You almost earned yourself a visit with the red man." A woman's voice, one he didn't recognize. And Marco knew everyone.

"I hear you know everyone." The woman revealed herself in the doorway: An elf, light-skinned, with a sparkling gem in the center of her forehead. Attractive, in much the same way as staring off a cliff. "I'm going to need your services, and you getting tortured to death would do me no good at all." She wore leathers that split the difference between protection and accentuation, and had a preponderance of sheathes running around her body.

"Did you swap Savio's bag?" And who are you, Marco refrained from asking?

"And yours. He still has his swords." The elf nodded, like it was the most natural thing. "Oh, but you wanted one, right?"

She reached behind her back. Marco had just enough time to duck under the table before a thunk shook it. Peeking his head back up, he found a sword embedded tip-first into the wood in the table's center.

Maintaining eye contact, Marco reached slowly for its handle. When his hand passed within a few inches he felt it heat up. He stopped.

"Oh, right." The elf waved her hand, and the gem in her forehead sparkled. "All yours."

Marco frowned. It took him hours to disenchant guard swords. But after reaching out once more, he found he could hold the hilt without it burning. A trick of some kind, most likely. "You don't seem like the type to need my help. Who are you?"

The elf smiled. "I can do anything, and you know everyone. So you're exactly the goblin I need."

Her weapons indicated that she wasn't afraid of guards. Either she was one herself, or she was too powerful to bother. But she wasn't so secure in her power as to not carry any weapons. Did she need them to fight, or were they only there to make a statement?

There were too many questions. Too many impossibilities. She could even be using some sort of disguise magic, but he'd never seen any look so flawless. Most could fool humans at best.

Plus, it couldn't be all posturing, because she felt fine arming him.

She had confidence, and she had powers, but Marco didn't know her. More important, she didn't know anybody. She was new here.

She came from somewhere. Marco wouldn't need Renato after all.

"Aah." Marco pointed at her with his free hand. "But I don't know everyone, because I don't know you. So, tell me who you are, I'll keep the reputation you need, and we'll be partners."

The elf froze for a moment, and then burst out laughing. "Oh, we're going to get along just fine, Marco. Call me Ilaria." She reached behind her back again and pulled out another sword. Did she have more sheathes that he couldn't see? All the ones on her front held daggers. "I was going to give you the second one after employing you, but if we're partners, that hardly seems necessary." She walked up to the table and placed the second sword next to the hole the first had bitten into the wood. "Can't have my partner in debt to anybody." She waved her hand and the gem sparkled again.

"How are you holding those swords without disenchanting them?" Marco wasn't sure if he wanted to catch this woman in a lie or not.

"I told you." Ilaria spoke slowly, as if to a child. "I can do anything. You'll have to understand that if we're partners. Now, partner, you're square with Renato. Care to help me find a few items I..." Her eyes sparkled with mischief, although thankfully less literally than the jewel. "...A few items we need to bring this place down?"