(Untitled)

[lectorisalutem]

He hopped out of the carriage, wishing he'd already made vanjalist as he passed through its exhaust fumes. The masks were a status symbol, Gulliver understood, but how many vanjalists treated the sick at times like these? How many actually put the masks to use? Shielding his nose and mouth with the sleeve of his robes, he made for Guille and

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[sunsinge]

His arguments with Guille had gone poorly. The first had ended with the other man angrily insisting that Amadius was still ill and would see sense soon. The second he accused him of trying to force his debts onto his friends. After the third, they'd stopped speaking. Amadius was furious. He'd never agreed to paying for Gulliver's services - accepted his help, yes, and while he didn't regret that, he hadn't expected his friend to let the fee fall on him while he lay dying.

He'd spent the first week half-heartedly trying to drum up money from his other friends, still bedridden and prone to sudden coughing fits. Gulliver might not insist on the debt being paid. Maybe he'd be too frightened, or obsessive, or both, to call the authorities. He'd paid the two brutes that'd broken into his home, after all. This debt, at least, was no fault of Amadius'. When by the end of the week he'd barely earned enough for a full day's meals, he gave up entirely. Let Gulliver come and harass him. The man didn't have enough of a spine to threaten the money out of him, and he didn't have it besides. Nothing would change that. The Adept wouldn't beat him to get it out like most he dealt with. Really, it was the easiest debt to get away with that he'd ever accrued.

On the arrival of the second week mark, Amadius felt no concern. He set down another card onto the rough-cut table in his room, eyes wandering over the columns as he raised a bottle to his lips. Probably, he thought with a sneer, Gulliver wasn't even coming.

[lectorisalutem]

He was. He was resolved to. Simply because the aftermath of delivering the bill would be uncomfortable was no reason to wipe away Amadius' debt. If anything, he might teach him a lesson by holding him accountable...

The adept hurried through the streets, dashing to the side on occasion to miss a stranger or a particularly fowl pile of refuse. His spindly legs and giant boots were the only thing that could be seen beneath his huge robe. November was being particularly cruel to the city.

Gulliver paused at the door to Amadius' home. Perhaps he should just leave the bill in the mail slot... But no. It would be far too easy for the man to feign ignorance at having received it. He took a deep breath, then erupted into a coughing fit when the cold air was too much for him. Gulliver knocked and cleared his throat. His breath turned to steam and fogged up his glasses. As he was about to sigh, thinking how fixing one aspect sent another out of balance, he held his breath. Sighing would only make it worse.

[sunsinge]

He heard the knock and ignored it. One of the others would get it. Sure enough, he heard boots thundering down the stairs - Thomas, by the weight of them. Amadius placed another card on the table and frowned thoughtfully at the rest, tongue swiping a drop of rum from the corner of his mouth.

"Diya!" he heard Thomas bellow from downstairs, and the thief winced and turned his head to glare at the door. Stumbling, he rose to his feet and yanked it open.

"I told you not to call me that!"

"Aye," Thomas called back with a grin, "And that's why we do. Doctor's here for you." He tilted his head towards the door. Amadius' eyes narrowed, and he leaned further over the railing until he could make out the Adept's straw hair and dusty robes. So he'd come after all?

"Come up," he snapped, then turned and went back into his room without waiting. This would either be entertaining or infuriating, depending on how insistent the Adept had worked himself into being.

[lectorisalutem]

Gulliver stood by, trying to hold himself with the dignity that was expected of his profession. The way Thomas kept smirking, though, caused his shoulders to sink. He'd saved this boy's life and still he was an easy target for teasing? Perhaps that said more about the doctor than his patient...

He climbed the stairs and entered Amadius' room without a knock or greeting. From the spread on the table, he gathered that Amadius was feeling much better; well enough to go back to his regiment of drink and cards. Holding out the bill, pretending to find the view from the window very interesting, he cleared his throat again.

"Your bill, as promised."

[sunsinge]

He barely glanced at it before he settled back into his chair. "I can't pay it. Talk to Guille." The Adept would get nowhere with the other man either, but misdirection of any kind would keep Amadius happier for longer - if it worked.

[lectorisalutem]

"I have."

Gulliver made no sign of leaving. It wasn't Guille's biil. Even if the adept had been contracted under false terms, he'd asked Amadius if his services were welcomed. And, in the end, Amadius owed quite a bit more than a few pieces of gold to Gulliver.

"There are ways for you to pay if you don't have the money. There are- there are loans, there's-" A trip to the workhouse- but that wasn't something he could in good conscience suggest. Gulliver kept rattling off suggestions. "Temporary indentured servitude..."

[sunsinge]

"No one would give me a loan," he reminded the Adept, hooking one arm over the back of his chair and tilting his head in a sour smile. "Indentured servitude? And what sort of... jobs, would you have me do, Gulliver?" His expression was mocking, and there was a twinge of disgust in his smile.

Work for him. Yes, of course. That would keep him safe. He noted that Gulliver never suggested the workhouse, or brought up other methods of collecting his debt. As he'd expected...

[lectorisalutem]

"Nothing like that, I'm afraid," he ground out, doing his best to keep the indignation from showing on his face. "But you might try offering it on the street. You'll have the money to pay my bill in no time at all." It was a cruel thing to say, but, strangely, the adept didn't regret having said it. Perhaps Amadius would turn to that. It would save them both the trouble of seeing one another regularly.

[sunsinge]

His eyebrows rose in surprise that Gulliver had actually voiced the suggestion, but his smile stayed. "That's flattering, Arthephius, really." No time at all? Gulliver hadn't spent enough time with whores lately, if that's what he thought. The thief glanced over to the bottle on the table, fingering the rim thoughtfully.

"Explain to me. You pay me to move out, and now you're suggesting I move in. Why?"

[lectorisalutem]

Only Amadius would think that...

He gave a moment's pause to review his answer. It wasn't the wise thing to do, but the other him, the him on the island... He had said that he created Diya out of love. And under no circumstances could Gulliver imagine himself loving this Amadius. Besides, if he hadn't treated Amadius, he would be dead already. If he reunited him with the primary emanation at this point, it was almost a wash.

Gulliver swallowed hard after thinking that, asking for the archons to forgive him.

"It's the principle of the thing. You've flagrantly disregarded your safety, anyway, by not doing what I paid you to. I won't pay you again to go on laughing in my face." He said it with his eyes on the ceiling, but the adept tried to sound confident.

[sunsinge]

Amadius considered that, eyes narrowed. It would erase his debt, and he'd have a roof over his head. He wouldn't have to leave Venice. But, he'd be subjected to Gulliver's company, Gulliver's tasks for him - whatever they were.

"And if I refuse?" he asked, eyebrows raising.

[lectorisalutem]

If he refused? With a sigh, he said, "You can flee the city and the debt-collectors the Brotherhood will send after you." It wasn't just his money, after all. The Golden Hour had a stake in every job. "Or..." Eyes still on the ceiling, Gulliver readjusted the satchel hanging off his shoulder. "Or you can find my money in your own ways."

[sunsinge]

His own ways. Amadius smiled sourly, hand dropping away from the rim of the bottle. A debt to the Brotherhood was perhaps as dangerous as one to any street thug; they might not be so willing to enact violence, but if they did, they could get away with absolutely anything. Power bought them their own laws, and men to hide their wrongdoings. He couldn't outrun them.

"Whore myself or live with you," he murmured, eyes on the table. The options sounded awfully similar, to him. He didn't trust Gulliver's indignation, not when he'd seen their counterparts, heard the Adept's confession. "You've not yet said what you would have me do." He glanced up, irritated to see the Adept still forcibly staring at the ceiling. "Something in the rafters?" he snapped.

[lectorisalutem]

"I can't bear to face your self-pity," Gulliver said beneath his breath. He shifted his eyes back to the window. Honestly, what did Amadius expect? He had no skills, no contacts, nothing to offer beyond his pretty face. In all likelihood, Amadius expected nothing at all. One day, he would look at the path he had forged and realize that it ought to have been leading somewhere.

"Housework. Dusting, sweeping, cleaning in general. Perhaps more, should you prove reliable," he said flatly. Allowing Amadius anywhere near his ingredients would be tantamount to pouring arsenic down a patient's throat, he imagined. Sabotaging Gulliver was the easiest way for Amadius to escape his debt. If he could ruin the adept's life before he ruined his, that would suit him.

[sunsinge]

"I've a right to it," Amadius replied smoothly, eyes drifting over the cards on the table. "I suspect anyone who's abducted for months and told their crazy neighbour's out to kill them for a soulless fucktoy might get depressed about it." He set another card in place before he looked back to Gulliver, expression impassive.

A servant's work, he'd have him do. Degrading. How would he tell that to his friends? It was honest work they sneered at. They had a good idea of how it was Amadius usually came into money, and they'd all seem awed by the process rather than disgusted by it. Manipulation was the best job skill one could have in the lower city. Still, he reflected, it would give him access to the Adept's stores. There had to be something valuable there. The phial he'd stolen before had fetched a nice enough price, even if he doubted his buyer knew what it was. He hadn't.

"Alright," he said finally. A free roof over his head, and the Adept holding the reins. He could slack as much as he wanted so long as he gave the man attention, a few smiles here and there. Gulliver could still barely look at him. Was it grief for the creature, or desire? Amadius decided he didn't care to ask.

[lectorisalutem]

He had a right to nothing. Amadius had contributed nothing to society but a taint, and his speech was too much for the adept to hear. He darted forward, grabbed all the cards he could reach in one swoop and crumpled them in his hand. "He was not soulless."

Let Amadius think whatever he wanted to, but Diya had proved himself. Proved himself more than the raw material used to create him ever could.

Gulliver tossed the wrecked cards on the floor. "You're to report on Monday. I'll speak to the Xanthosien to determine the length of your sentence." With a curt nod, he hurried out of the room.

Amadius was to be living with him from now on. He had faith in himself, of course. He'd never go against the Brotherhood.
But putting up with Medellos' histrionics would be trying. More than trying...