Dungeon 42

Just Business

Chapter 190

The otter man just sat staring at the collar in his lap while Heather went about her business. Ditching the fleshies had mostly been for fun, but she understood that she still had work to do. She shared some of her mistresses distaste for slavery in general and the kind Stromholt was about in particular.

Mind magics had existed where she’d been born and first died. A feared magic and for good reason. Magic had seemed like a distant thing to her back then, a fear of the rich worth of the use.

She could still recall it, the way the spell had twisted into her brain like a screw and left her little more than a puppet. Why the mage had chosen her for that she’d never known. She hadn’t had mind enough to question her state or do anything more than follow orders once it was done.

Rakem Suldat, apprentice mind thief of the shadow tower had selected her at random from the group of prisoners taken to practice on. He wasn’t skilled but her binding had turned out well so he’d kept her longer than normal.

The fragment of information slid into Heather's mind like a shard of glass. It wasn’t a memory, she’d never known any of that. The “information” as the book worms in the library called it simply appeared in the mind at times.

Rakem Suldat, her unskilled master. She’d seen him die and she preferred that memory to knowing the bastard's name. That it had been her last had felt fitting.

“What are you doing?” the otter man asked. Heather looked over at him, curious if he were stupid.

“Putting him in the tub,” Heather said. She’d dragged the man rather than the tub since he made less noise in his unconscious state than the scrape of wood on wood that would have resulted with the tub.

She hadn’t put the slaver in it yet however. There were still some issues to sort out before that. Primarily if he would be face up or down and awake or not.

“Why?” he asked.

“This is an inn, a place of business. It's rude to make a mess or ruin the furniture,” Heather explained. Her opinion of the man's intelligence going down by the word. There wasn’t a reason to be flashy or bother anyone but the target in her book.

Taking a breath she reminded herself that he wasn’t an assassin, at most possibly a killer. Those lot weren’t really the same thing at all and expecting professionalism was a bit much.

“Now, you want to do the honors or shall I?” Heather asked.

“Mind if I drown him?” he asked.

“No, but it takes a while as I’m sure you know,” Heather said with a shrug.

Since he didn’t mind, Elain got a pitcher and started scooping out of the larger metal jug that had been left in the room by the fire. Fancy option really, she’d have to remember it. The otter man kept watch on the slaver while the tub filled.

“Right, deep enough for face down, or did you want to look at him?” Heather asked.

“I want to watch,” he said. Heather got back to filling.

Once the bath was ready the process was easy enough. The slaver woke as the otter man put him in the water. The slaver didn’t have time to scream before he was under. After that it was just a matter of holding him down by his shoulders while Healther held his legs.

The slaver thrashed as much as he could in the confines of the tub, but didn’t make enough noise to alert anyone.

When the deed was done the otter man sat on the floor again, just staring at the dead body. It seemed like he was the thoughtful type. Heather wasn’t herself so she was busy wiping up the spilled water.

“What's your name, if I may ask?” the man inquired.

“Oh, sorry, forgot to mention it didn’t I. Heather Elain Phalanges, at your service,” Heather offered, making the little motion of a curtsy with her hands. She liked the gesture even if she didn’t care for skirts. “And yourself?”

“Sellos Atwater,” Sellos replied.

“Well Sellos, you're a free man now. You can either be on your way or I'll take you to some people who know a safe place to stay here,” Heather offered. The valley was his best bet all things considered. 42’s word was law and he’d not be bothered so long as he didn’t disturb the peace.

“They don’t mind beastfolk?” Sellos asked with an unamused laugh.

“It's where I’m from and I can assure you, they don’t mind a bit,” Heather said.

“I’m grateful to you, Heather Elain Phalanges. But you're not a living thing, as you showed me,” Sellos countered.

“Right, so?” Heather asked. Him saying her full name like that was rather charming so she’d not dissuade him from it.

“Where would I be going, a graveyard?” Sellos asked.

“Nah, the valley is nice with houses and such. Plenty of fleshies- erh, the living. Beast folk too, though mostly rabbits and one kind of stupid dog,” Heather offered.

“Any water?” Sellos asked.

“Fall coming down the mountain to make a river and a lake in the valley. Don’t feel you have to, just thought I’d offer since you’ve had it rough,” Heather said with a shrug.

“I can just go?” Sellos asked. Heather nodded, then reconsidered. She pretended to rummage around in her pocket before pulling out a small bag of mixed coins and tossing it to him.

“Now you can. You shouldn’t be without money,” she explained when he opened the bag and just stared. It was likely a large amount since it included silver. She’d dealt in silver herself when she was alive, none of her targets important enough to warrant gold.

“You walk around like this, where you're from?” Sellos asked, gesturing to his face. It took Heather a moment to realize that he meant as a skeleton. She’d left her illusion off after playing her little joke on him.

“In some places, but mostly not. Not everyone knows, though I imagine that will change. Too big a secret without enough of a pay off for keeping it,” Heather said with a shrug. She understood 42’s caution with not telling all the town folks just yet. It would be better to wait a while and let them see for themselves that none of the local undead were going to come eat them in the night.

That and how useful they could be with their skills and lack of dying. Really, if not for being stuck in a dungeon after Heather really wouldn’t have minded being undead back home. At least undead like she was under 42’s command. It was incredibly useful and she didn’t miss hunger and thirst any.

“But it's fine if I know?” Sellos asked. He was definitely a thinker and Heather allowed herself a sigh. She’d never done well with that type.

“Whats it matter? No one will believe you until they have reason to, and your word won’t be reason enough to believe you,” Heather explained. That got her a not entirely unpleasant laugh.

“I supposed not, I saw it myself and I don’t really believe it,” Sellos said. “I owe you a debt for what you’ve done, so tell me. What would you have me do?”

“Oh fuck that,” Heather said, exasperated.

“Take the money and run. Try the valley if you like, leave if you don’t think it's a good fit. Do some other thing you come up with. Point is, do what you want to, you're no longer anyone's slave,” Heather pointed out, just in case he’d missed that he was free. She had no interest in tying someone down to her by a debt.

“I’ll be going with you then. I imagine it's a good place to hide from a murder charge,” Sellos said.

“Murder? I’m a professional. I don’t leave evidence unless I want to,” Heather said as her illusion snapped back into and the corpse vanished. With the body safely tucked away in storage alongside the collar she started heading for the door.

Elim and Tiller were likely half mad with worry about what she was up to. Heather looked forward to seeing it.