Chapter 24.2: Kidnapped

Several minutes passed, and the thought occurred to Minkus more than once to step inside after his friend, but the next thought in the sequence hung him up each time. He didn’t know what Penny was doing in there, but even if he did, he wasn’t sure he’d know whether to assist or stop her.

Mulling the options over, he continued to stand outside, nervously watching the door until finally Penny re-emerged, now wearing two hip bags belted to her waist and stuffed to bursting with tools and half-crumpled papers. Over her shoulder hung a dull, orange knapsack Minkus had never seen before. She yanked the door shut behind her, and a few more loose pieces of glass fell from the broken windowpane and shattered on the floor inside the building.

”Shit,” she hissed, glaring up the street toward the upper city. “I didn’t ask that little asshat about Eddie,” she said.

“Eddie wasn’t inside?” Minkus asked, looking past her.

“No, of course he— did you expect him to be?” Her tone was incredulous, but her eyes remained fixed on the upper city.

Minkus shrugged. “I— don’t know. It was possible, I guess.”

“No, it wasn’t possible, and no, he wasn’t there.” She was calculating something as she glared at the distant arch that led into the halls circumferencing the upper gardens. “But I’ll bet my boots that guy knows something.”

Minkus scratched at his ear. “So what do we—”

“We follow him, Biggie.”

“Who? Wepp?”

The human put a hand to her forehead. “Who the hell else? Yes, Wepp. And we’d better get moving. We’ve probably already lost him.” She started off at a trot up the incline.

“I don’t think following him will help,” Minkus said, a step behind her.

“And why is that?” she said, coming to a halt a few feet away.

Nearly running into her as she abruptly stopped, Minkus slid to a stop as well and pointed up the road. “He’s been gone for several minutes, and we wouldn’t know which way he went.” Minkus spread a hand in a wide arch around him, . 

Penny shook her head, picking up the pace. “That’s why we’re hurrying, Biggie.”

“But Penny, I— we know where he works.”

At that, the woman stopped again, turning to look down at the asura behind her. “We do?”

Pointing a thumb over his shoulder, he directed her attention back to the shop. “I said it back there. Remember?” She followed his gesture with her eyes, but her face remained unknowing. “The gate, Penny,” Minkus reminded, “I saw Skixx at the Rurikton asura gate. He works there.”

She blinked, as much at Minkus as at the information. “Well, good,” she said, shrugging. “I guess we’re going back there then.” She hefted the knapsack a little higher on her shoulder and started forward once more, but she stopped, turning back to Minkus once more before they pressed on. “Good job, Biggie.” Minkus blinked, grinned, and then followed on after his friend.

They moved at a slow jog for a ways, just far enough to reach the top of the inclined road and pass beneath the archway and into the shade of the stone hallways. Passing through the expansive upper gardens much more quickly than Minkus would have liked, they came out the other side and walked at a snappy pace down the Kormir High Road. The two rounded the bend at the city's wall and made their final descent back into the district of Rurikton.

Like any traversal of Divinity’s Reach on foot, it was not a quick trip, and nowhere along it did they encounter, or even glimpse Wepp. Minkus was thankful for that.

“So, you— we are just going to find him and ask after Eddie, right?” Minkus asked, watching Penny’s expression. “Nothing more?”

She sighed, exasperated. “Yes. For the last time, yes. That's all we’re doing. I’m not going to mess with the little ass for my shop— not yet anyway.” She clung tightly to that orange bag as she looked past him and down toward the Rurikton square. Hidden behind the district’s taller buildings, the gate was just out of view.

Minkus looked at the tools in the belt his friend had strapped on around her waist and then back at the knapsack. The tools made sense; he knew she was quite fond of several old wrenches and drivers that she’d received from the mentor she’d only occasionally mentioned. Who could know what designs or concepts were on the pages jammed to bursting alongside those tools, but they also weren’t a surprise. The woman had had several ideas in the wings while they’d worked on her smartpack. Minkus grinned. All things considered, Penny must have been rearing to get back to work on a project.

“What’s in there?” he asked, pointing to the knapsack at her shoulder. “I’ve never seen that bag.”

Still walking intently on, Penny glanced at him from the corner of her eye, just long enough to see what he was pointing at. Her eyes turned ahead once more. “Nothing.”

Minkus scratched his head. “You broke into your shop— for nothing?”

“It’s an important nothing, OK? Stuff I can’t replace.”

“Oh,” Minkus replied. He was taken aback by the candor. It reminded him of another question that had fallen to the wayside in the afternoon’s events. “Penny?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, Biggie. I’m still here.”

“Why did your landlord call you Penelope?”

Rolling her eyes, the woman audibly growled. “First,” she said, “he’s not my landlord. I’ll be damned if that little jerk gets so much as a copper out of me. And second, he called me Penelope because that’s my name. Oficially, anyway.” She glanced at him, noticing the remaining curiosity. “Penny is short for—”

“Oh, no,” Minkus interjected, waving a hand. “I understand that. I— just don’t see why you would shorten it. Penelope is a very pretty name. Your parents must have—”

Penny broke in. “My parents, Biggie, are the ones I’d rather not think about, which is hard to do when you’re named after one of them. Harder still when you’re repeatedly asked about it.” She shot him a look to silence the questions.

Despite the glare Minkus was now connecting the dots, and though he clearly sensed her unwillingness to continue discussing, that small flicker of asuran curiosity won out. “Your mother’s name was Penelope? You don’t talk much about your family.”

“Yeah, Minkus, I don’t, because I don’t have one.” She bit the words off, keeping relative composure with clear effort.

“Oh, yes,” Minkus said, recalling th bit of her story he did know. He idly tugged at one of his ears. “I’m sorry. I knew that. I— I should have remembered.”

For a few minutes, the two walked on in silence, stepping off the Kormir ramp and onto the smooth white stonework of Rurikton that ran along its narrow streets. Minkus could feel the hovering silence between them; it grated lightly at his skin.

Penny finally sighed. She sounded as uncomfortable as Minkus felt. “Look, Biggie,” she said. “I never knew my mother, but gods’ luck I got the woman’s name. My old man always called her Nel, so he had no problem calling me the full thing: Penelope.”

Minkus’ eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to say anything further, let alone that.

“So he didn’t call you Penny?” Minkus asked, wrapped in the curiosity again.

Scowling, Penny shook her head. “Hell no. He wouldn’t dream of it. That’s why I went with it after he—” She stopped, focusing her gaze up the stairs to their right. It was the asura gate, complete with one technician who looked very familiar now. “Gods. The little asshat strode right here and just went back to work?” She growled, pressing through the thin crowd and up the stairs.

“Penny,” Minkus called, hopping to catch up. “You'll be nice about it, right? I mean— about Eddie?” He noticed quickly that he got no reply.

Busy with his work at some open panel of the gate, Wepp didn't notice the two of them approaching, and neither did his counterpart on the other side of the device. Strangely, this other person was a human, standing behind stone panels of glowing glyphs and taking coin from the travelers who stepped up to enter the shimmering circle of energy.

At the precise moment Penny and Minkus stepped onto the platform, a man and his overladen train of dolyaks broke through the rippling light of the gate and stepped out into Divinity's Reach. The hairy and rather pungent procession walked right between Penny and Minkus and the operator, blocking them from his view.

“Perfect,” Penny hissed, glancing at the large animals and seeing an opportunity for whatever she was about to do. She took a quick step toward Wepp, who remained too engrossed in his work to see her. “Hey, pal,” she called at him, “I got a question.”

“Yes?” Wepp replied, lifting his head. “What can I— oh, Penelope,” he said rather pleasantly. “Have you already decided to accept our—”

“No,” she said, now looming over him. “Can’t say I have. I came to ask you where the hell my apprentice is.”

Craning his neck as far as it would go, Wepp leaned back into the edge of the asura gate, just to be able to make eye contact with the woman. “Your apprentice?” he asked. There was genuine curiosity in his voice. “My apologies, but I have no knowledge on the subject, Penelope. If you don’t mind—”

Sourly, she cut him off. “OK, quit calling me that, little man. No one calls me that, least of all a smug, little rat like you.”

“Penny,” Minkus broke in sadly, “you called him ‘rat’ again.”

“Fine,” she conceded. “Not rat. Little shit. Is that better?”

Minkus scratched his ear. It didn’t seem to him that it was much better, but it did seem to correct the problem. “I guess.”

“Good,” Penny said, turning her attention back to the asura cornered in front of her. “Biggie is happy, and you’re an— Oh, no you don’t!” She slammed a hand down over Wepp’s mouth just as he inhaled to cry for help.

Looking over her shoulders, she noted the line of dolyaks still slowly making their way out of the gate. No one could see them from that direction, and as Minkus looked around, it seemed there was no other angle from which anyone was paying attention to them their alongside the gate to Ebonhawke. He was thankful for that. This would certainly not look good.

Also eyeing the dolyaks, Penny seemed to make a snap decision, grabbing Wepp by the collar with her free hand, spinning him around to the back side of the gate, and pressing him sharply into the stone ring. Wepp’s eyes went wide, staring down at the human hand laid firmly across his face. He made a weak attempt at freeing himself but quickly gave up, as even the woman’s one hand against his chest seemed enough to keep him in place.

“Penny?” Minkus murmured. “What are you— we can’t—”

“Biggie,” she cut him off, glancing over her shoulder. “We’re already here. It’s too late.” She looked back at Wepp. “You hear that, Wip? Is that your name? I don’t even really care. We’re already here; this is happening. We’ll deal with our bigger problems later, but now I just want to know where Eddie is: blond kid, shorter than me, built like a blade of grass. You tell me where he is, and Biggie and I will be on our way.”

Nervously, Wepp nodded, and Penny pulled away the hand covering his mouth. The eggplant of an asura stretched his mouth uncomfortably before speaking. “As I stated, Pene— Miss Arkayd, I know no one by the name Eddie, but your description does match that of a human youth I saw outside your establishment after we’d changed the lock. It’s conceivable he was your apprentice.”

“Yeah, conceivable,” she mocked. “So where the hell is he?”

Wepp shrugged, more by lowering his head than by raising his pinned shoulder. “I have no viable idea. I never interacted with him and never recognized him again, at the establishment or anywhere else.”

“You didn’t take him?” Penny asked suspiciously. “You didn’t do anything with him?”

“Alchemy no,” Wepp blurted. He was noticeably sweating now, but there was an earnestness Minkus could hear in his voice. “To what end would I abduct a human youth? My ears. I would have no use for him, and to be entirely candid, though I may associate with the sort of people who would kidnap a youth, I myself have never had the stomach for such things.” He considered quietly for only a second. “I suppose that’s not an entirely convincing plea in light of the qualifier—”

“Shut up. After the shit you and Skixx have put me through, I don’t put anything past you and your employers.” Penny put special disdain in that word.

Wepp and Penny exchanged looks for a moment: Penny’s becoming more intense and Wepp’s growing more fearful. Minkus felt it all.

“I assure you,” Wepp whined, “I have done nothing to your appr—”

“Gods,” Penny growled, cocking back a hand to slap Wepp across the face. “I said shut—“

Before she could swing, or even finish her sentence, the asura in her hand yelped in fear and flopped forward, going completely limp in Penny’s grasp.

“Penny!” Minkus yipped, jumping at her still raised hand. He gripped it around and hung on, pulling it down.

“Biggie, get off me. I didn’t do anything.” Minkus opened his eyes, and both looked at Wepp, his head hanging over the side of Penny’s outstretched arm and his eyes rolled back in his head. Penny held him still, extending her other hand to check for a pulse. “Still alive,” she said. “Gods. I didn’t even touch him. He just passed out.”

Pulling her hand away, Penny let Wepp’s unconscious frame fall into a pile at the base of the asura gate. She and Minkus exchanged a curious glance before both leaned to peer out around the edge of the gate again. The dolyaks were all beyond the gate now and moving off in a line toward the Rurikton square; their cover from the human gate operator was gone.

“What do we do?” Minkus asked quietly. “How do— how do we explain this to— him?”

“We don’t, Biggie. I told Limpy here, and now I’m telling you: I’m not spending another night in a seraph cell, so no one knows about this.”

Minkus looked up at her, confounded. That seemed to be the nature of this season for him. “What do you mean no one knows? You don’t mean you’re going to—” His hands shot up to his mouth in horror.

“Mean wha—” Penny began to ask. “Oh, Gods no, Biggie. I’m not going to kill him. What in Grenth’s green ass would make you ask that?”

“I—  just I was scared is all.” Minkus sighed relief. He looked back down at Wepp. “So what do we do? We— we can’t just leave him here.”

“No,” Penny agreed, suddenly flipping one of the wrenches from the toolbelt she’d put on at her shop. “He’s sure to talk and make this sound bad when he comes to.”

“So—” Minkus fumbled, trying to see where she was going. “So what will we do?”

“We’re taking him with us,” she said abruptly.

“We’re what?” Minkus’ eyes reflexively popped open.

Penny nodded, seemingly satisfied with her spontaneous plan. “Yeah, we’ll take him with us. We’ll figure out where Eddie is, get this shop crap fixed, and— we can figure out what to do from there.”

Minkus blinked. “Penny, I don’t think— this isn’t—” The words eluded him.

By the time Minkus had any semblance of an argument, the woman had Wepp up over her shoulder and was already slinking away from the gate toward the cover of neighboring buildings in the opposite direction of the gate operator. Minkus hopped after her, softening his footfalls as best he could.