Excerpt: Clockwork Fairy

(END OF CHAPTER 4)

The common room was large, warm, and as inviting as the rest of the place. It was still a little early, and there were few people there. Kelfar chose a table not too close to the fireplace and facing the door, and before he had even sat down a waitress brought him the mead, with cup and thimble attached. He poured the two of them appropriate doses of the golden elixir, then sat back against the wall and sipped. The mead was actually very good; perhaps not cross-an-ocean good, but definitely well worth some praise. Feeling at peace with the world after pummelling a small part of it, he announced his verdict to a delighted Master Adeem, who exchanged a little small talk with each of the patrons there before going back towards what it was an innkeeper did.

The lamb was gorgeous, and the mead flowed freely. Before long, both man and fairy were slightly drunk and giggling – or at least, one was giggling and the other snickering – at the expressions of the other patrons. The room was now full, and the people there were split about evenly between the haters of, the lovers of, and the indifferent towards their magical selves – a testament to Master Adeem’s political neutrality. Llynat made faces at the ones who frowned at her, Kelfar glared at those who looked at them with too much adoration in their eyes, and both were having a great time.

Shortly before finishing an apple tart so delicious it had the fairy close to tears, Kelfar had signalled a waitress to get his bath started. He took his time savouring the dessert and, when he finally got up, a tad unsteadily, a tall, dangly servant with a stupid grin bowed and offered to escort him back to his room.

- Lead the way, lad!” said the sorcerer.

The servant uttered a few inept remarks about the weather that went completely unanswered, then opened the door for them with his master key. Kelfar whistled appreciatively. His chain mail had been oiled, and laid out flat on the table; his tunic had been repaired. The Sword was still where he had left it; the personnel here even knew better than to touch a man’s blade without his consent. On a low dresser, a tiny bed had been left, virtual copy of his own but queen-sized to a fairy; an enclosed space had been arranged around it with gauzy lilac drapes. Llynat’s shrill cry of delight when she discovered it could have melted earwax at ten paces.

Kelfar turned to the servant and asked him to thank Master Adeem profusely for his most excellent treatment of his guests.

- I will, m’Lord, I will, and he will be mighty pleased you said so, he will.

- I’m sure.

- Is there anything else I can do for you, m’Lord? Anything else you require?

- No, it’s all perf…” Kelfar stopped, staring at the bed with his head to one side. “Actually, maybe there is… Tell me, what precisely is the Ipharay Empire’s legal view on prostitution, my good man?”

If the waiter heard Llynat sharp intake of breath at that, he chose to ignore it. Instead, he rearranged his features into an expression of acute idiocy, that was probably meant to look crafty and knowledgeable, and said: “Ah! M’Lord’s feeling the old traveller’s itch, eh? Wouldn’t mind sharing this nice bed with some friendly company, eh? Not a problem, m’Lord, the red lantern girls are completely legal, and checked by the Imperial Doctors regularly, so they’re well clean and all, m’Lord! Of course, they’re not what you’d call cheap, but a gentleman like you probably wouldn’t mind that, eh?” Leering even more abjectly, the man added in a conspiratorial whisper: “But if m’Lord would prefer cheaper girls, or maybe some with more… exotic skills, there are some ways, less official…”

Kelfar cut him short. “Official is fine, clean is good. Listen to me, lad: get me one of these red lantern girls. I don’t have any real preferences, but get me a pretty one, you hear? Don’t bring a nice body with a face that would scare a Goblin away: I want something cute. You got that?”

- Yes m’Lord, cute, I’ve got it!

- Good. Then take this coin for your pains, and send her in as soon as you can find her – I’ll be in my bath. Oh, and tell the girls in the kitchen to heat up more water for when she gets here.

He closed the door on the man before he could get another leer in, then started undressing, humming tunelessly. After a while he became aware of a chilly silence from the direction of the doll bed. He sighed and turned around.

Llynat was standing in front of her bed, looking straight at him with a furious expression on her face. “You animal. You absolute beast. You can’t stop yourself, can you?”

- Listen, shrimp, I’m not going to go through this again. You heard the man: it’s legal, and under Imperial supervision. I need a service, they provide it, they get paid for it, and I don’t mistreat them in any way. So cut the affronted routine and go to bed.

- Why? So you and the poor girl can wake me up with your grunting and mewling?

He grinned nastily and retorted: “I’m not going to cut down on the quality of my performance for your benefit, half-pint. It’s not my fault if I make them meow…”

He laughed at her look of mixed embarrassment and rage, and headed off into the bathroom. He was still laughing when she managed to stutter angrily: “I hope that moron brings back the fattest, ugliest, nastiest one of all!” As he closed the door behind him, she shouted at him: “And my name is Llynat!”

A good twenty minutes later, and the water was still fairly warm, when he heard knocking on the door. He got out of the tub, wrapped his midsection loosely with a towel, and went to answer the door. He had a moment of apprehension, thinking back on what Llynat had wished for him – the man he had sent was a moron after all.

As he opened the door, he drew in his breath sharply. He would have to give the man another tip – this girl was a rare find.

She was of average size, a good head shorter than he was. She wore the flared pants and puffed shirt that seemed to be the most common attire in Phar’Darsin; hers were peach coloured, with an emerald green sash around the waist, the looseness of the fabric only partially hiding the curves of her body. Her long black hair, tied high with a ribbon the same green as her sash, fell down her back in a jet black cascade; a few errant strands framed the delicate oval of her face. Her lips were full, a pale shade of red, her nose small and narrow, her cheekbones high. She had the slightly tanned and almond-shaped eyes of Eastern Ipharay, but her irises were bright green, the same emerald nuance as her sash and ribbon. Kelfar thought she was a picture of loveliness.

She stood ramrod straight, her arms crossed over her chest. Her expression had been one of mild impatience, but had turned to surprise and confusion upon discovering his current choice of clothing, and she was looking at him with her mouth slightly open, seemingly uncertain of what to say. In return he stood there as well, admiring her beauty and calculating how expensive that one was going to be.

- Er…” she said at last, “are you Master Kelfar, of Ocara?”

That was a strangely formal way to ask if you had the right client, he thought, but that was what you got for having bureaucratically sanctioned whores.

- That is indeed me, my Lady.” he answered with equal formality. A jewel like that deserved some measure of decorum, after all. “Do come in, please.”

She glanced briefly at his towel and at the small puddle of water that had formed at his feet, arched a delicate eyebrow, but said nothing and walked in. Her walk had something feline and athletic. He closed the door behind her, smiling broadly.

She took a few steps and turned around. She opened her mouth to say something when Llynat’s voice came from the dresser: “So, that’s her then? Uh.” Kelfar winced at the venom contained in that short sentence. Four inches short, hating his guts most of the time, wrong species, and all that boohooing about poor prostitutes; but she still managed to feel jealous because that one was so pretty.

He turned to her. She had been spending the time drawing a circle of Faëric runes around her bed, to which she was putting the finishing touch. A sanctuary ritual. He snickered. “Yes, Llynat dear, this is her indeed. Now you finish your little circle and go to bed, the lady and I have business to attend to.”

The emphasis was just right to get the fairy all in a huff again, and she ostensibly turned her back on both of them and resumed drawing runes with melted wax from a small candle.

- Yes, we do indeed…” started the woman.

- Don’t worry. Whatever you ask for, it’s yes.”

She looked more confused than pleased at this, but he didn’t pay attention. “You’re worth it. Listen, the servants will be there shortly with some more hot water for the bath; I want you to go into the bathroom and get inside the tub, all right?”

Her eyes flashed at that: “Sir! How dare you?”

He waved his hands in appeasement. “No, no, don’t take me wrong. I’m not making any insinuations about your cleanliness or smell, believe me. It’s just that I like to conduct… business after a nice hot bath.”

She seemed to relax slightly at that. “Far from me to deny someone their right to individual or cultural quirks, sir, but I’m afraid that simply wouldn’t be proper.” she said in a clipped tone.

- Not proper?” he exclaimed. “By Vah-Jial’s bum, what is wrong with you Ipharayans? Even the whores think like bureaucrats!”

A knock on the door covered the woman’s hiss, and Kelfar said: “Ah, it’s probably the water. Come on girl, drop these lovely clothes and get inside that tub. You’ll see, there’s nothing better than a long, hot bath before a good hump!”

He opened the door. A woman was standing there, dressed in a white and yellow dress cut low over ample breasts, with a light green sash around her hips. She had curly blonde hair, a small freckled nose, a pouty mouth and mischievous eyes. She smiled at him in a provocative way, eyed him up and down, and said: “Hello m’Lord, I’m told you’re in need of some servicing tonight?” A little further down the corridor, the servant with the stupid smile grinned at him suggestively and gave him a thumbs-up with both hands.

Kelfar closed his eyes. Of course.

- So… If you are the girl I sent for…” She nodded, and he turned back towards the first woman. “Then you are…?”

- Captain Yahini Esfandiar, Imperial Constabulary.” She said it with a perfectly even tone, but he saw the light in her eyes, and he couldn’t tell if it was amusement, or lightning.

There was a long, long moment of silence, until they heard the small ‘thump!’ of a fairy hitting the ground, holding her sides tight with both arms, laughing so hard she couldn’t even make a sound.