Chapter Text
“It sounds suspicious,” Beauregard said. “There’s no way. He’s going to steal your organs.”
“I doubt—”
“Read my lips: no way.” She folded up a piece of paper and tossed it across the table. “Seriously, at a price like that? There’s gotta be a catch. Or…or there’s some kind of crime.”
Caleb Widogast tried to look reassuring. He largely failed, but this was normal.
“Ach,” he said, “is it so hard to believe that just maybe, my luck is turning around?”
She slowly broke apart a lemon muffin.
“Yes.”
She offered him half, which he glumly accepted.
The two of them were seated together at a table in the Wayfarer’s Cove, a small diner tucked away on the edge of the piers of Nicodranas. The windows here, though a bit stained, overlooked the Restless Wharf, providing a clear view of tangled docks, bobbing ships, waves rushing up the harbor and sailors, merchants, and deckhands at work. Flocks of seagulls and the occasional migratory albatross swooped in overhead, their cries swelling up along the wordless stream of noise.
Back in the faded pleather seats of their diner, Caleb finished the muffin and brushed the crumbs off his hands.
“What other choice do I have, Beauregard? I am in no rush to return to the Empire—”
“Hear, hear—”
“—but I have nowhere to live if I remain here. This city is expensive. More expensive than I anticipated.”
Beau picked up her mug of coffee. “You could stay with Fjord and Caduceus,” she said. “Or you could tell Nott that you aren’t moving out.”
“But I promised. And more than that, I offered.” He ran a hand through his hair and immediately regretted the decision. It was sticky.
“Take the offer back,” Beau shrugged. She watched him fumble with a napkin. “Gods know the place is just as much yours as it’s hers. And it’s not so small that four of you couldn’t…well. I guess four is kind of a lot—”
“And Luc is five years old,” Caleb sighed. “He will be noisy enough for six people.”
“A Library—”
“Your library?”
She gave him a stern look. “I told you, it’s still being established. You’re going to have to wait another six months.”
He smiled faintly. “It was worth a shot, no? And anyway, I doubt even a Cobalt Library would let some unaccredited stranger stay the night.”
“It’s shit that you’re doing this, you know that?” She took another sip of coffee. “I mean, it’s nice, but it’s this…this sort of self-sacrificial thing that’s gonna end badly.”
“Maybe,” he said, in a tone that suggested even “maybe” was too much of an agreement. “Nevertheless, I think it is the right thing to do. Nott has spent so much time separated from her family that she truly deserves this. She was missing them quite a bit anyway, and at least this way she will not be leaving us.”
Beau’s hard expression eased just a little. “Will she be…okay with them around? You know, in her cond—”
“She says she’s made arrangements. And anyway, I feel like I am getting closer. It just…will take time. And the sooner I firm up my own living situation, the sooner I can get back to work helping hers.”
Beau studied his face, and finally relented. “Alright, well…I wish I could help.”
Caleb stared into his mug. “I do not think I can stay with Fjord and Caduceus,” he said instead. “Their apartment is…very small. And I think they are still saving up to move somewhere else.”
“Gods, I mean, if Yasha hadn’t moved in with me and Jes after, well, after y’know—”
Caleb smiled again. This time, it almost reached his eyes. “I will see about this perspective roommate,” he said firmly. “Who knows? Maybe I am getting lucky.”
— — —
“—after the tone.”
Caleb rubbed his face and set down the phone. Filling his room—though doing that wasn’t very hard—were all of his worldly possessions, packed away.
He smoothed out the flyer, a bit rumpled now from its time shoved in his pockets, and read it over.
SEEKING: TENANT FOR HOUSE
One room Available to Rent
$300/Month
Internet Access, On-Site Laundry
Must be Quiet, Organized,
Willing to Sort Recycling
NO DOGS
At least, he mused, scanning the last line, there would be no issue with dogs. And Caleb naturally was a quiet person, very amenable to learning how recycling worked. Beauregard’s accusations from earlier this morning did flit briefly through his mind, but in the face of a rental price that low, any concern of impending doom was promptly, seamlessly, quashed.
Besides, it wasn’t as if Caleb couldn’t defend himself. A single spool of silver thread went a long way.
He glanced at the number again, and re-dialed.
— — —
“No, Verin, as much as I appreciated your help, I do not think it will be necessary anymore.”
“Is it because of just the one recommendation? Because if you let me try again—"
From behind the kitchen counter, his microwave whirring and a coffee mid-pour, a young dark elf with short-cropped hair did his very best to hide a scowl.
“Verin, your recommendation came back every night at two in the morning and never once locked the door. He also clearly did not understand how to do his chores. And he left hair in the shower.”
“Ah, but he was quiet, wasn’t he?” This was followed by the sound of something smashing on the other line.
Essek sighed. His brother was many things—a good friend, a compassionate person, a true confidant—but calm or quiet was not one of them.
“Perhaps by your standards, Verin. Certainly not mine.”
Another noise, like someone laughing, then footfalls.
“You should lower your standards, then! You’re in a foreign city surrounded by strangers, and probably every one with different customs.”
“I was under the impression that silence was a universal language.”
“I think that is love. Or, actually, Common—”
Essek rolled his eyes and glanced at the microwave, which had just finished beeping. Leftovers from last night, re-heated, a delicacy for the preoccupied scholar. He slid over to retrieve it, lowered his phone, and only then did he notice the message across his screen: CALL INCOMING.
This wasn’t a number he knew, but with a growing sense of dread he noticed that it had already tried to call him twice…
He abandoned his lunch and pressed the phone to his ear.
“—but if Undercommon exists, then what does that say about us, really—”
“Shut up, Verin! Someone’s calling!”
“It—wait, what?”
“I’m hanging up! I’ll call you later!”
“Yes, you’d better! I still haven’t asked you about the—”
Essek ended the call. He took the briefest pause to compose himself, then hit answer.
“He—”
“Hal—”
A pause.
“I am so—”
“My apolog—”
They both stopped.
Essek began counting to ten. When he hit six, the voice on the other end of the line said:
“Ah, er, hallo, my name is Caleb Widogast, I am calling in regards to your, ah, your advertisement. Am I speaking to Mr. Essek Thelyss?”
Essek sat back down. “Yes,” he said smoothly. “I am Essek. You’re interested in the apartment?”
There was the faint rustle of fabric. “Yes. I am quite interested in renting.”
There was another pause. At the count of three, Essek gave up and took the initiative. “I am happy to hear that,” he said. “Have you reviewed the fee and the conditions? Do you have any questions?”
More rustling. This time it sounded like paper. “Er…no, actually. I am happy to agree to your requirements. Er…I do, ah, have…I have a cat—but, but if that is too unwelcome—”
“No, no,” Essek waved a hand. “A cat is more than fine. There is…yes, there should be space in a corner of the living room for…cat…things. Boxes. And…bowls? Yes, so long as you are amenable to cleaning up after, er, him?”
“Him,” the voice confirmed. “Frumpkin.”
“I see, er…charming.” Different customs, Verin had said. “Well, if there are no other issues, I would be happy to begin renting to you as soon as possible. I should mention, though, that while the clauses I stated earlier are the most important to me, I would also like to negotiate a contract with you regarding other details.”
“Oh, er…of course. What did you have in mind?”
“Well, they mostly focus on the division of space and…promises to keep? I would like my bedroom and study to remain off-limits, but you are welcome to any common areas you would like. I do not take up much space in the fridge, so if you wish to cook, that is fine, however I also ask you not leave a mess. Smaller details of this nature.”
“That is completely understandable,” the voice said. “If I am being honest, I believe it will make establishing boundaries and navigating our living situation much more clear-cut.”
“I am delighted you think so,” Essek said, finding that he actually was. “If that is the case, then…I would be happy to have you move in as soon as possible. Mister…Mr. Widogast, was it?”
“Ja. And that would be perfect. I, er, when exactly would you be ready to have me arrive?”
Essek tapped his chin. “Well, I normally do not spend much time in the unit, to be honest. But I was home this morning cleaning up after the last tenant, so the room will be available tonight.”
“Tonight!” There was a pause, and then a shuffle. “If that is no rush, then tonight is wonderful.”
“Excellent.” With one hand he nudged the microwave open again and retrieved his lunch. “In that case, I will see you tonight. I look forward to meeting you, Mr. Widogast.”
Essek heard a chuckle. And then he realized he’d been smiling as well.
“Likewise, Mr. Thelyss. See you tonight.”
— — —
“No.”
“Aw, come on—”
“No. I mean it.”
“But why not, Caleb?”
“She does have a point, you know,” Nott called from her perch atop the car. “We don’t know anything about this guy. He could be dangerous.”
“He could be a murderer,” said Jester. She was helping Caleb load the very last of his belongings onto the trunk. One last cardboard box joined to two smaller boxes, and a trunk.
“You will scare him into evicting me if you storm his building like that,” Caleb said. “And anyway, He sounded polite on the phone. I will not be getting a better price.”
“Luring you in with rent to die for,” Jester nodded.
He elected to ignore this, and instead turned to Nott. “It is not a bad neighborhood, either. I am sure everything will be fine.”
“But…are you really sure?” she asked. “I mean…if you need more time to look around, Yeza and Luc won’t be here for two more days.”
“I know, and thank you,” he said gently, “but I doubt two more days will be necessary.”
“I feel like I’m kicking you out,” she said wretchedly. “This was your house for as long as it was mine. And you’re my…well, I shouldn’t do this to you—”
Caleb quickly shook his head. “Do not say that, please, do not. It is more important to me that you and your husband will have a place to be together. Truly together, for once, and with your son.”
“If the apothecary hadn’t burned down—”
“But it did,” he said. “And now here we are. Do not worry. Please, do not worry.”
She met his gaze. “You’ll have to visit,” she said eventually. “Every weekend. And weekdays. At least twice.”
He nodded immediately. “I will do my best. You have my promise.”
She hopped down from the roof of the car, a landing so perfect any acrobat would be proud. Three foot four of determined goblin wrapped as much of him as she could into a hug.
He crouched down and hugged her back. After a moment, Jester joined in for the spirit of things. Her charms jingled and jangled as she moved.
And eventually, when Caleb was dimly beginning to realize they were blocking the sidewalk—
“You two, I am not leaving for another hour.” His voice was muffled. He was also feeling a bit warm.
“That’s nothing,” said Jester.
“I don’t care,” said Nott. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I am just a phone call away. Barely a bus ride.”
“And don’t you forget it.” She finally pulled back, and quickly wiped at her eyes. “You hear me?”
He smiled. Quite easily. “Loud and clear, Miss the Brave. I do.”
Jester tapped the side of the car. “Beau says she doesn’t need this ‘til later tonight. We could go out for some food?” Her voice was hopeful. “There’s a really good place that I heard about that does these big milkshakes—”
Nott elbowed her. “Does it have real food too? Or just sugary drinks?”
“Oh, they have burgers, and pizza, and fries, and—”
Nott’s mouth threatened to split her face in two. This was happiness, in goblin form.
Caleb ruffled her hair. “Let’s do it. I am starving just thinking about it.”
— — —
Essek had only just rolled up his sleeves and wiped the condensation from his brow when the phone rang.
He glanced back, and his eyes lost their glow. The faint sensation of coiling wind faded from the interior of the room. About half a dozen various cleaning implements clattered to the floor.
Annoyed, he waved a hand and floated his phone over. Then he scowled.
“Can it wait? I am in the middle of something.”
“Well, if it is something more pressing than the greatest Dunamantic breakthrough of this century—”
“Yes, yes, alright,” he responded testily. “What is it?”
“I believe you will want to see this in person.” This voice was a smooth baritone, lightly accented by something airy, and old. “Besides, it is quite difficult to make progress without our resident expert—”
Part of Essek wrinkled his nose. The other part, a part that he would not readily acknowledge, nor likely even recognize, puffed out its chest.
“I…have a prior engagement tonight,” he said, but was already beginning to itch for the study. His mother once said that knowledge was a disease, and right now he could hardly disagree. “How much time will this take?”
“I believe that is up to you, is it not? It is your artifact—”
“I am glad you remember.”
Silence followed, and Essek basked in the little victory. He floated his coat across the room.
“Give me a moment to get ready and write a message,” he relented. “I will be there soon.”
He could practically hear the pleased smile without seeing it. “Excellent. I await your arrival.”
Click.
He sighed again. Of course, he wanted to chalk this up to…to his associate being overly nosy and much too eager to flex his authority, but the fact of the matter was that he very rarely bothered with Essek unless it was important. Which, naturally, had its own problems, but at least it let Essek keep to his own schedule.
It was just a shame that he would have to miss the arrival of his new tenant. He hoped it wouldn’t set a bad first impression—well, second impression, technically. The first one…already it had been two missed phone calls and a stiff conversation.
He found a piece of paper and uncapped a pen.
Then again, he wasn’t here to make a friend, was he? Of course not. He was just being self-sufficient.
Mr. Widogast, he wrote. Unfortunately, I have been called away for an emergency at work…
— — —
And it was only about twenty minutes later, as he let himself into the Marquis’s guesthouse, that he realized he should probably text his tenant the house code.
— — —
“Maybe we should’ve brought him something too,” said Nott, leaning on the side of the car, watching Jester and Caleb lift one last box. An orange tabby cat wound between her legs.
“Scheisse, I did not think of that,” Caleb blinked. “Er…do you think it is too late to visit a store?”
“A store?” Jester shook her head. “What are you going to get him, a bag of chips?”
“Well, er, no, but…perhaps an ice cream…”
He leaned against the stack of boxes and caught his breath. When he looked back up, there was pity in their eyes.
“Caleb,” said Nott, “that’s a terrible gift.”
“What? I…really? I thought…don’t people like them?”
Jester reached across his luggage and gave him a pat.
“I got an extra slice of blueberry cheesecake,” she said. “I was going to save it for later, but…I think you should give that to him.”
“Oh, Jester, I cannot—”
“Do it,” she insisted. “If you’re not going to let me meet him, then at least I want to help you make a good impression.”
“Apparently, he is not even home right now.” Caleb gave his phone a gentle shake. “He texted me earlier with the door code and an apology. So unfortunately, you would not be able to see him even if you wanted to.”
“Part of the trap—”
“It is not a trap—”
“Oh, but if he’s not home,” Nott began, and Caleb was instantly worried from her tone, “doesn’t that mean…doesn’t that mean we could go inside? And…take a look around?”
“Nott—”
“Oh, oh! But what if it’s a trick!” Jester gasped. “What if it’s a test? To see what Caleb’s like?”
“Caleb is great at tests,” Nott said. “I’m sure he’ll do fine.”
“I can only do fine if you two cooperate,” he rubbed his face. “Please, if I do end up staying here long term, I am sure that there will be plenty of opportunities for you to snoop.”
“Not snoop,” Nott corrected. “Scope him out.”
“Ja, exactly that. Now…” Caleb glanced at his friends, then looked over his shoulder at the entrance to the apartment complex. It was in a much nicer area of Nicodranas, much nicer than he particularly was used to, though quite a distance from the coast. Tall oak trees draped over the streets, boughs layered in a fine trailing moss, their branches weaving modest shade from the sky. Coral ivy climbed up the side of the building, and from down on street level, looking up, Caleb could count a total of six floors.
A few of the windows were open, letting in the cool summer breeze.
Home, Caleb thought. A home, anyway. For now.
He gave Nott and Jester a smile.
“Thank you for helping me move, today. I promise I will send you pictures of the inside.”
“Good!” said Nott. “It’s the least we deserve.”
“And don’t forget the cake,” Jester added. “Are you sure you’ll be alright lifting everything by yourself?”
He held up a hand, and waggled his fingers.
“I think I can find a way to manage. Though I must say, it will not be nearly as fun without you two.”
— — —
And now, it was well after sunset.
Caleb sat in a bedroom that was three times bigger than his last one. Neater, too.
This Mr. Thelyss must do very well for himself, to afford such a home. After lugging his belongings into the elevator and congratulating Schmidt on a job well done, Caleb had ridden up four floors and punched in the password and had been truly surprised at the size of this housing unit. Thelyss had a full kitchen, complete with bar stools and a counter, and even a small sitting room with a couch and TV. There was a bathroom, with a tub, and Caleb noted the two other doors that were off limits—bedroom and study. There was a section of the sitting room, by the large bay windows, where space for “cat things” had been set aside, and a sliding door beside that area led to a modest balcony. All of the décor was minimal, with only a few paintings adorning the walls, depicting landscapes of some place that Caleb could not recognize. Aside from that, the only concession to personality was a bookshelf stacked to virtually spilling with tomes and novels and hardbound texts. To his surprise, he’d also found he could not read a majority of this writing, though not for trying.
There had also been a note on the counter. He could read this one. And after he did, he smiled faintly, then wandered into his bedroom, put his things away, and got his cat settled, as instructed.
Then he gently placed a single slice of blueberry cheesecake next to the note, taking care to make sure that none of the corners got jostled.
He picked up a pen. He wrote:
Mr. Thelyss—
I once again thank you for your flexibility. Though I similarly am saddened that we cannot yet meet face-to-face, you have a beautiful home that I will do my utmost part to maintain. Additionally, please accept this gift as a small housewarming token.
Also, Frumpkin is a very well-behaved cat. If you see him when you wake up tomorrow, feel free to give him many pats.
Looking forward to speaking with you,
Caleb Widogast.
He read through the note a few more times to make sure that he was covering everything of importance.
And, when that was settled, he retreated to his bedroom, and flicked off the lights.
He lay in bed for a few minutes, gently stroking his cat.
“Well, Frumpkin. Here we are. Home sweet home. For now.”
Frumpkin meowed back.
“Well-said. Now, we should probably get some rest, eh?”
He shifted around, got comfortable, and eventually closed his eyes. How lucky he was to find a place like this, he marveled as he began drifting off to sleep. With such comfortable sheets, as well.
And all that was left was to finally meet this Essek Thelyss.
On his chest, Frumpkin began to purr.
And to hope that they’d both get along.