1????????Soul Bound

  1.3??????Making a Splash

  1.3.2????An Allotropic Realignment

  1.3.2.32 People like him sniff poverty like flies on fresh dung

  Kafana: “Do the patrols actually work? Why didn’t they catch the gangs that kept harassing nobles riding down Mud road to the Stadia? Do you think the nobles will return, now the road is paved?”

  Nicolo: “Not until they’re sure the Red Death won’t finger them, and they’re confident that any rioter threatening to harm their pretty petticoats and palfreys will be strung up and gutted by the guards. Even then you’d still need to squash the Lifters; Pazzi’s turtles are rough enough, but they ain’t smart or popular enough to catch a gang like that.”

  Kafana: “The Lifters? You know who’s behind it? I visited the Arsenal, but nobody mentioned a gang by that name.”

  Nicolo: “That’s ‘cos they. Sorry, that is because they are not from the Arsenal. They work out of the Roave, which is on the Basso side of Mud Road, just across from the Arsenal.”

  She noticed, with a linguist’s ear, the effort he was putting into pronouncing his words, speaking the accent of educated merchants and nobles as a singer might learn lyrics in a foreign language by rote, perfecting each word by repeating it again and again. Presumably variations in spelling were not the only things that might get passed down inside a closed environment such as the orphanage. Just one more hurdle for an orphan to overcome, that children raised in wealthier districts might never consider, even when deciding not to offer a job to a candidate they subconsciously assumed to be stupid because, if one of their educated peers had failed to learn standard pronunciation and grammar despite having well-spoken teachers, that peer might well be less than stellar in their scholastic aptitude.

  Kafana: “Nicolo you know stuff that we don’t. Everyone is ignorant about something, but you should never feel ashamed about the things you don’t yet know because you haven’t had an opportunity to learn. By all means practice accents on me - I love them and know lots of different ones. But don’t worry about me judging you, if you sometimes relax and use one that’s different to mine because it's the one you’re used to. Now, tell me more about these Lifters and why you don’t think Lord Pazzi’s house guards will catch them.”

  Nicolo: “I only know what Antonio told me. Started off as cutpurses, who joined together in order to get better deals when fencing stuff, and to arrange lookouts and decoys - standard stuff. But then they caught the eye of a master from the Arsenal, a true professional, who offered them training in return for favours. He taught them how to plan multiple escape routes and how to make effective use of their knacks. They picked up his attitude too - became more ruthless, more daring and more arrogant. He may have directed them to attack specific targets with more than money in their pouches, but they’re the ones who turned vicious, who took enjoyment from causing pain and humiliation,”

  Kafana: “Antonio said they didn’t get the violence from the teacher? Who is he?”

  Nicolo: “Apparently he’s a brilliant actor, and maintains a cover as a kindly professional who runs a reputable business packed with customers. Antonio didn’t know what sort, except that it is associated with a strong smell. They’d called him ‘The Moustache’.”

  Distinctive moustache? A smell like burning tar? Fish? Oh no, not Chef Goedzak, surely?

  [Quest accepted: “Find the Fagin” - Turn over to the authorities evidence of the true identity of The Moustache, who’s been mentoring the Lifters. Difficulty: E This quest is part of a chain.]

  She looked over towards Bungo, feeling guilty at accepting it without consulting him first. He’d given up on card game analogies, and was using his air magic to blow coloured sand in slow moving patterns. He looked her way and gave a quick thumb’s up sign, obviously alerted by the quest notification, before returning to his presentation.

  Was that a divination skill, or had he just been really working hard at improving his control? After a moment she realised he’d animated a statistical map of the football game’s first half, with overlapping zones for each of the Phantoms players which twinkled as the ball was passed between them, chased by one much larger blob representing the pack of Juveniles players. It was similar to Bulgaria’s formation of olives except that, being animated, it made clear the change in which parts linked to each other, that happened when a team changed between offense and defence. He was doing really well, and the players listening to him were nodding enthusiastically instead of looking puzzled.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  In fact, her current face was probably more puzzled than theirs was.

  Kafana: “Knacks?”

  Nicolo: “Captain Nafaro explained it to me. Everyone has some elemental attunement. Your body needs a little bit of each type of mana, just to stay alive. Only one kid in a thousand has a pair of attunements high enough for the Mage Tower to accept them as an apprentice, but that doesn’t mean nobody else can cast magic - just that they’re too slow, limited or unreliable. There’s probably a couple of hundred people living in Basso who are self-taught amateurs, with a knack for finding dropped items, improving the taste of beer, or causing chasing guards to trip up on previously smooth cobblestones. It tends to run in families, especially in the Ghetto.”

  Goedzak was self-taught, when it came to magic. He’d definitely be aware of knacks and how useful they could be. But something inside her was yelling “No”. Was that a skill? Had she used her Truesight on him? She couldn’t remember, but after years of dealing with tourists visiting her kafana in arlife, she’d learned to trust her instincts in such matters. But who else could it be? She racked her memory.

  Kafana: “Do any of the orphans have a knack? Will football matches need referees who can spot magic cheating by players or their supporters?”

  Nicolo looked thoughtful, eyeing the teams as they moved back onto the pitch for a demonstration by Tomsk of what was and wasn’t acceptable when tackling another player.

  Nicolo: “Not everyone realises they’re using magic. Looking back, I might have been using my air magic, ‘Lun-attunement’ Nafaro called it, or even mind magic, Lun-Cov, when singing or desperately looking for hints of what was on the mind of someone threatening me. But I wouldn’t have known that was what I was doing, just that there was an unusual feeling inside me - a feeling I now associate with mana flowing. There could be others in the orphanage, but I don’t know. As far as this ‘friendly’ match goes? I wouldn't worry.”

  Kafana: “But?”

  Nicolo: “I hear some lads in the Vecci encampment are putting together a team called The Wanderers, and if you think any girls trained by Baba Olga won’t get flash when it comes to aiding a feller they’ve got an eye for, you don’t know ‘em. Them. Anything from jinxing bootlaces to tilting the entire pitch so the ball rolls away from their goal posts.”

  Kafana: “I’ll let Wellington know. Maybe he can devise a ward that draws upon the spectators, so there are many eyes watching for it, not just those of the referee? Games are always more fun, when there’s a level playing field.”

  Even if you’re so used to it being tilted against you, that an even chance feels unnatural at first, she added to herself. If a sailor could adjust to solid ground, after spending a week at sea, then Nicolo could do it too. The thought surprised her. What was bugging her about this? Why did it annoy her that Nicolo didn’t feel outrage over his circumstances in life and the way society condoned them? She’d consider it later. Maybe outsource the thinking? Talking of which…

  Kafana: {Dinah, can you check something for me? Cross reference known residents of the Arsenal with Nicolo’s information about The Moustache. List top candidates, weighting for KeyNPC status and the possibility of the Fagin character trying to deceive the Lifters through disguise or exaggeration.}

  Dinah: [87% match, Scaramouche, motive unknown. 37% match, unnamed agent working for Lord Ruffo, motive: to reduce the price of purchasing the Stadia to convert it to new wharves. 24% match, unnamed fence working for the Nomad Nation, motive: to increase Lifter’s take from which he gains a cut.]

  Scaramouche? Oh yes, that’s right, he had a Van Dyke beard and moustache. He was high up in the gang that specialised in elaborate confidence tricks, the Sons of Hawkwood, which would fit the deception and lack of violence. And, while the Sons weren’t directly allied with Ruffo and the ship Captains (who’d want more wharves), nor with the multi-city Nomad Nation, neither were the Sons feuding with them. It would be just like Scaramouche to work for both without letting either gang know the other was paying him, while at the same time increasing his own personal power and influence, using the Lifters to exact untraceable revenge against particular nobles, or steal incriminating letters contained in pouches along side the coins.

  But how to gain evidence? And, if she did gain it, was handing it to Lord Pazzi’s guards in return for a financial reward the best move? Bungo had warned her not to offend any of the Counts. Could she gain favour with Lord Pazzi by directly handing to him instead?

  The whistle blew, announcing the start of the second half, and she realised she’d missed her chance to ask the others. She set a memo for Minion to forward a message to the others, when they’d weren’t engrossed with the match, and then turned her own attention to Nicolo.

  Time to cast some magic of her own.

  Ikey Solomon. Memorably portrayed on screen by in .

  Volume 11, Issue 1