[A chilly night - an oddity, indeed, to see snow on the ground at the end of July. It was fortunate that he had a rather warm cape to keep the chill at bay... but there was little to keep the apprehension similarly gone.
The dark alleys, closer to the outskirts of the park itself, were the scenery of choice. He knew far too well it was better than the Underground, better still than the square. The less public the setting, the further away from that man, the better. And so he waited, at the corner of that brick edifice, watching about for his contact. Information was usually supposed to be passed in the opposite way, wasn't it?]
[He had bundled himself up quickly--jacket, wool topcoat, scarf, gloves, hat. That hat. It made him distinctive, he knew, and anyone who saw him hurrying to this meeting would know it was he. There weren't many others who wore top hats at all. He would be unmistakable. But it was far too cold to go without. Perhaps they couldn't see in the driving snow, anyway. A stupid, foolish thing to worry about. Crehador was the one truly sneaking out to this meeting.
An 'evening stroll'. That implied the park, but the park was far too public for something like this. The edges then, and the little alleyways nearby. There would most likely be no one else out on a night like this.
He turned up his collar and hurried on. Not the park itself, but the corners, the hiding-places. He knew who he was looking for, and watched for this shape in the snow and shadows.
[And there was the person he was meeting. The hat gave him away only too easily - he could thank the city and its population for that distinction. But he had little time to dwell on physical appearances. The time was now, and the information had to be given quickly.
He looked over to Cain, almost disdainfully, but he then remembered the reward to this.]
About time the Earl graced me with his presence.
[His motions were fluid - prestidigitation was an applied skill, and a useful one at times. Without so much as a blink of an eye did he present a small package - wrapped discreetly in brown paper, no larger than a folded handkerchief.]
[He would not take the bait. He would not rise to the snide remarks. This was of far too much importance, and he could endure a charlatan's useless insults easily. The cold was more biting than those comments ever could be.]
I came as quickly as I could. The storm is making matters difficult.
[A calm, professional meeting it would be, then. Well, he could do professionalism, and so he coolly stared at Cain while unwrapping that package. The size was immediately explained. A white handkerchief... with a sinister green stain.]
[His mind raced. During the course of the investigations, he'd not said he possessed that poison. Well, he'd not said, save to Rue. The princess wouldn't tell anyone that he did, so close as he and she were. He had only admitted a familiarity with it--and a sad familiarity, too, given Suzette's story. So, the only person known to possess this poison would be his father, so long as no one revealed that Cain, too, had some.]
[Luckily a cape could hide so much - even young women who needed to be seduced by magic. A simple turn of the heel kept eyes from prying where they needed not to be, and he would remain so until the evidence was properly hidden underneath the lapel.
Now his purpose had been served - as far as Cain himself was concerned. Now, though, he wondered about that dark man who had employed him. And would he know? Likely... but not if it were dealt with subtly, quickly, much like a card trick.]
Hurry with it. And the compensation, if you please.
[He rewrapped it in the paper and hid his hand within his coat, keeping the poison itself turned safely away from him. The odds were not great that it would leak in the course of transporting it back, but on a night like this, one takes no chances.
He reached into a different pocket with his unoccupied hand and withdrew a pouch--amusing not to carry a proper billfold, but in a place with no bills, one reverted to the older ways of doing things. It jingled slightly.
Neither filled, nor hardly empty, though not of green or blue coins, but the darkest blue, indigos.]
Your compensation, according to the value of the service provided.
[Yes, the money. He had gotten the skill from so long to judge with fair accuracy how much money was given him - the skill had to be tweaked here and there while in this place, true, but he had apparently gotten the skill to a proper level. A fair amount - especially if they were the indigo coins. A quick glance by moonlight confirmed it. Yes, a fine price.
But this was the temporary compensation. The true one would come soon enough with the delivery of that evidence.]
[A tip of the hat, a step away. Nothing left but to rush through the biting wind back to warmth, back to the opera house, back to the safe haven guarded by swordsmen and swordsdolls, complete with evidence in hand.
All that was left was to consider how to reveal this, to whom it should be shown, and then what was to follow thereafter.
On that small handkerchief was the connection between the two halves: his father and 'Carlyle's' deal with Blitza.]
Are you and I even able to meet?
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The dark alleys, closer to the outskirts of the park itself, were the scenery of choice. He knew far too well it was better than the Underground, better still than the square. The less public the setting, the further away from that man, the better. And so he waited, at the corner of that brick edifice, watching about for his contact. Information was usually supposed to be passed in the opposite way, wasn't it?]
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An 'evening stroll'. That implied the park, but the park was far too public for something like this. The edges then, and the little alleyways nearby. There would most likely be no one else out on a night like this.
He turned up his collar and hurried on. Not the park itself, but the corners, the hiding-places. He knew who he was looking for, and watched for this shape in the snow and shadows.
There.]
Mister Crehador.
Reply
He looked over to Cain, almost disdainfully, but he then remembered the reward to this.]
About time the Earl graced me with his presence.
[His motions were fluid - prestidigitation was an applied skill, and a useful one at times. Without so much as a blink of an eye did he present a small package - wrapped discreetly in brown paper, no larger than a folded handkerchief.]
Reply
I came as quickly as I could. The storm is making matters difficult.
[He reached for the bundle.]
This is your evidence, I presume? What is it?
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[A calm, professional meeting it would be, then. Well, he could do professionalism, and so he coolly stared at Cain while unwrapping that package. The size was immediately explained. A white handkerchief... with a sinister green stain.]
You see?
Reply
[His mind raced. During the course of the investigations, he'd not said he possessed that poison. Well, he'd not said, save to Rue. The princess wouldn't tell anyone that he did, so close as he and she were. He had only admitted a familiarity with it--and a sad familiarity, too, given Suzette's story. So, the only person known to possess this poison would be his father, so long as no one revealed that Cain, too, had some.]
This is far and away better than I expected.
Reply
[Luckily a cape could hide so much - even young women who needed to be seduced by magic. A simple turn of the heel kept eyes from prying where they needed not to be, and he would remain so until the evidence was properly hidden underneath the lapel.
Now his purpose had been served - as far as Cain himself was concerned. Now, though, he wondered about that dark man who had employed him. And would he know? Likely... but not if it were dealt with subtly, quickly, much like a card trick.]
Hurry with it. And the compensation, if you please.
Reply
[He rewrapped it in the paper and hid his hand within his coat, keeping the poison itself turned safely away from him. The odds were not great that it would leak in the course of transporting it back, but on a night like this, one takes no chances.
He reached into a different pocket with his unoccupied hand and withdrew a pouch--amusing not to carry a proper billfold, but in a place with no bills, one reverted to the older ways of doing things. It jingled slightly.
Neither filled, nor hardly empty, though not of green or blue coins, but the darkest blue, indigos.]
Your compensation, according to the value of the service provided.
Reply
But this was the temporary compensation. The true one would come soon enough with the delivery of that evidence.]
Then our business is done, no?
Reply
[A tip of the hat, a step away. Nothing left but to rush through the biting wind back to warmth, back to the opera house, back to the safe haven guarded by swordsmen and swordsdolls, complete with evidence in hand.
All that was left was to consider how to reveal this, to whom it should be shown, and then what was to follow thereafter.
On that small handkerchief was the connection between the two halves: his father and 'Carlyle's' deal with Blitza.]
Reply
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