Page 49 of Badmouths & Bards

The thought lingered in Tala’s mind as she approached the jeweler’s shop. True enough, a guard was posted near the entrance—right next to a stained glass window that Tala didn’t remember being there before. Most likely, someone had broken in during the night and the design was meant to discourage impulsive theft. Not that it would do the shop owner much good given how valuable gems were.

Tala hadn’t made it past basic introductory with her tutor, but what she had retained about the arcane was that jewels and gemstones were some key components in magic. They could be used in healing magic, as well as crafting spells. Hell, the opal Tala carried was proof enough of how well gems took to the arcane. All it took was an intelligent mind and a pretty diamond, and the possibilities were endless.

Just be cool, Tala thought as she approached the door, pointedly ignoring the guard.

A small chime rung throughout the air as Tala entered, though she could see no bell above the door or any origin of the sound nearby. The possibility that it was an enchantment crossed her mind as she stomped her dirty shoes onto the mat. A quick scan of the shop revealed a smaller interior than Tala had imagined. The exterior had always seemed grand, though perhaps the owner was simply smart enough to keep his backrooms hidden from lingering eyes.

“One moment, please!”

Tala perked at the voice, crossing the worn wooden floors while eyeing the displays of weapons with jewel encrusted handles. They were essentially useless for battle. Ornamental—meant for people who dreamed of battle but would never actually pick up a sword themselves. Her father had been that kind of man—actually, a lot of the men Tala had met during social seasons had at least one golden hilt dagger.

Egotistical rich assholes, all of ‘em.

Behind a wooden counter, deep red curtains parted to reveal a human man. Late thirties to early forties if Tala had to guess. He was thin, frail almost beneath the heavy robes he wore—layers were necessary in a city like Eshorion as the weather changed constantly in comparison to Irongarde or GloomsDale. A head of pale red hair cascaded down his back, tied together with two thin braids near his temple.

“Welcome, neighbor, and a good day to you! What can I help you with today?”

“Yeah, I’m here to follow up on a ring.” Tala approached the counter, pulling her cloak off her head. “Seira Redborn sent me.”

“Ah, yes, dwarven woman!” The man shuffled on his heels, reaching for a drawer behind him. “I remember her. Excellent taste in jewels.”

He turned on his heel, setting a ruby red cloth onto the counter before her. The ring looked exactly as Tala remembered it, though it appeared to be more polished.

“Did you manage to figure out who made it?” Tala asked.

The jeweler shook his head. “Unfortunately, this particular ring lacks any of the local artisans style—and believe me, I’m familiar with all of them. Most inscribe a tiny detail to indicate the artist’s work. All of my rings have a four leafed clover inside the band. I would wager this was either a custom piece, given the craftsmanship is too clean to be a novice. But if Ms. Redborn is interested in another ring, I have many—”

“What about local enchanters? Know any merchants that have those kind of skills?”

The man appeared flustered for a moment, before he gathered his bearings, “There’s a few in the city. There’s The Enchanting Bauble a few cobblestones away, though, my understanding is they specialize in glamour magic. They’re likely to have more connections to specialized enchanters, if that’s where your attention lies.”

“Thanks,” Tala said, dropping a silver onto the counter and swiping the ring.

“I—”

Tala had already crossed the threshold before the jeweler could recover. She exited the building, pulling her cloak back on. The weight of the ring against her thigh was an annoying reminder that she was right back where she started.

No, that’s not true, Tala thought as she joined the crowd again. Whoever sent this, got it from outside of Eshorion.

Yet, that didn’t entirely clear the local thieves guild, or any of the other possibilities Tala had come up with since the ring had appeared. Lots of illegal activity depended on passing objects from hand to hand, from city to city, making it more difficult to trace. The same could be said about the ring—

Wait.

A wave of unease struck Tala, one that she couldn’t place. More than just hurt feelings over a friend who couldn’t trust her or the reality of what she had done with the two charges she was meant to protect. The rain was still falling at a steady pace and with every footstep, Tala tried to discern the roaring suspicion in her mind. Her boots trudged through a puddle while her eyes darted left to right beneath her hood.

There.

The sound of a small puddle being disturbed—the same one she purposefully stepped through echoed behind her. Someone was definitely following her, but for what purpose? In the busy streets of the market, Tala could think of a dozen reasons. Petty theft was at the top as pick pocketing was the most common crime in Eshorion. Avie had been subjected to it once or twice, but less so once Tala had started keeping an eye out for it. But then, that had earned Tala a few enemies of her own.

The Valiant Circle—while respected by most of the denizens of Eshorion—was still the bane of most crime circles. If anyone knew how to crash a party, it was a bunch of justice-seeking monks and archivists. The local thieves guild would never admit it, but the Valiant Circle’s continued pursuits of knowledge and justice was infringing on their business. It would only be a matter of time before they started targeting members as a warning but—

That’s all theory, not concrete, Tala thought. For all I know, this is just a regular stalker.

The thought wasn’t any more comforting as Tala continued to duck between the crowd of strangers. Knowing she was being followed was worse than not knowing. Tala tried not to shiver in disgust as she moved closer and closer to the edge of the market. Stalkers—that’s what Ameriden and Casimine dealt with all the time as famous bards. This was their everyday, and it only made Tala angrier as she moved. Casimine had been subjected to this, but so much worse. An invasion of his boundaries and all notions of safety gone in a blink of an eye.

Tala gritted her teeth, bobbing past a horse and carriage and into an alleyway. It was a dead end, leading to one of the ivory walls that overlooked the countryside. Her cloak was soaked through from her excursion, but she ignored the discomfort. Tala pressed her back against the wall, hands already clutching her batons in a firm grip.

It took twenty seconds, but that was all the time she needed. The moment the dark figure was within reach, Tala struck. The baton came down onto the back of the stalker’s neck with a hard clack, sending them forward. Tala readied her other arm, intending to catch them in the back when they suddenly turned. A glint of silver and only a moment to react. Tala pressed her heel into the ground, catching the blade against her cheek as they lunged forward.