Seated at a desk beneath the map, a stern-faced young woman scratched in a thick ledger with a feathered quill. She was pretty even with the fresh, livid scar that ran along one cheek, and the monocle nestled over one eye. She scowled when she looked up at him. Tallis never remembered her name.
“What are you looking for?” she asked, clearly irritated. He noticed a small plate of cakes on the corner of the desk.
“Identification papers,” he answered. “Maybe travel papers too. I will, uh … need this for myself this time. I could use some … well, professional recommendations.”
“Fine,” she said and started jotting down his request on fresh vellum.
“It’s been a while, Tallis. I trust all is well?”
Tallis turned around at the sound of the nectarous voice. A child-sized woman sat languid upon an ottoman of dark velvet. She wore a well-tailored gown of green silk with matching jewels at her wrists and throat. The lines of her middling face were softened by emerald eyes and stylish brown hair which was arrayed with ringlets like Aundairian nobility. She looked like she’d just come from some gala of the city’s elite. Even with running makeup and sleepy eyes, she carried the air of a much younger halfling.
“Not as well as it ought to be,” he said, then raised an eyebrow as he looked her over. “I’ve never seen you look so radiant before, Midwife.”
“Flattery will not lower my fee,” she answered with a pout. “This appointment was made on short notice, Tallis.”
Tallis held out his hands defensively. He’d meant his words.
“I’d planned to stay the morning at my engagement, but the urgency of one of my favorite clients lured me back this early. Business first. I’m certain your reasons-and your gold-are worth it?”
“I am sorry,” he said and blew out a sigh. “The circumstances aren’t optimal for me, either.”
The halfling’s teasing vanished. She slid from her seat and walked directly in front on him, looking up at him with professional scrutiny. Even at half his size, the Midwife’s manner was imposing. Tallis always felt sleightly uncomfortable in her presence. She was a mage of considerable power. Not for the first time, he wondered if she’d studied in the Tower of the Twelve. If she had any blood connections to either House Jorasco or House Ghallanda-the dragonmarked houses of healing and hospitality-she never said. Not that she, of all people, would ever reveal her true identity to anyone.
“You’re alone,” she stated simply, “and my friends suggest that you’re not just fetching papers for another stray who needs to disappear. This is about the dead Brelish, right?”
Stray. The Midwife’s term for those who were wanted by the law, bounty hunters, or the murder-minded. Tallis had come to the Midwife many times to secure new identification papers for unfortunates who needed to disappear … usually the innocent servants or enemies of those he’d killed or financially ruined.
The Midwife had earned her epithet for just this reason. She ushered births into the world, not of new lives but of new identities. The halfling employed natural skill and tailored magic to create flawless identification papers that held up to intense scrutiny. Tallis knew of not a single instance in which her false papers were discovered for the counterfeits they were. He believed she could convincingly recreate identification papers for Kaius III.
The Midwife’s services were not cheap. Given the amount of gold he alone had poured into her coffers, along with her numerous other anonymous clients, Tallis knew she had to be one of Korth’s wealthiest citizens. He may have been a favored client of hers, but even Tallis didn’t know her real name. He doubted her own gang knew her story.
“Yes,” he admitted. “I’m the stray. If I just run from this, I’ll always be looking behind me. Hyran, Thauram, and Host knows who else are really after me this time.”
“Oh, yes. Your name has always been synonymous with legality in this town,” she said with a smile.
“Point taken. But I’ve got nothing to do with the Brelish ambassador-”
“Pshhh!” The halfling waved her hand dismissively. “If you want to go carving up foreign dignitaries, by all means do so. I’m sure you’d have good reasons for something like that. You always do, Tallis. Just don’t bring your mess to me, and that means not telling me about it. You came to me to give you some reprieve, and so I shall.”
Tallis ground his teeth together in frustration. For some reason, he wanted her to know he was innocent of this, but the Midwife’s neutrality in her clients’ affairs kept her in business and away from the scrutiny of the Justice Ministry. Her very existence was a rumor, nothing more. Those foolish few who had dared to implicate her in their crimes found that her gang of loyal rogues operated well outside of these underground chambers and were capable of delivering sound retribution.
The Midwife walked a slow circle around him now, muttering to herself as she did. Tallis felt her eyes appraising him and wondered if she was using wizardry to assess him. “I’ve known you for a long time, half-elf. I never thought I’d have the pleasure of rebirthing you.”
“I hope it’ll be all you ever dreamed.”
The halfling stopped her pacing. “The papers will be easy, of course, but you’ll need more than documents to blend in this time.”
Tallis spread out his hands. “What can I do?”
The Midwife called out over her shoulder. “Dorv, switch with your brother. Our client needs a new face.”
The halfling turned back to Tallis. She gestured to one of her servants, who stepped forward to offer Tallis a platter of vedbread and a wheel of cheese. “Make yourself comfortable, Tallis, and let’s talk about your fee.”
Soneste woke just after dawn, wondering if it was too much to hope that she not make any more embarrassing mistakes that day.
“Mistress,” a voice boomed when she climbed from her bed, startling her.
“Host!” she swore, reaching for her boot-which she wasn’t wearing. Then she shook her head. “You need to give us sleepers some time to adjust.”
Soneste hadn’t minded Aegis’s presence in her room at the Seventh Watch. He may have been an artificial creature composed of metal, wood, and stone, but he was Brelish. She had a few warforged acquaintances back in Sharn, and most of them were good company. She trusted this one faster than most, or it may have been pity for the loss of the family he’d lived to serve.
Warforged didn’t need to sleep-nor did they drink, eat, or even breathe. Magic from the Cannith forges that birthed them also sustained them entirely. When Aegis had offered to guard her, she accepted readily. She couldn’t be too careful in this city, especially since the criminal she was hunting had proved himself an efficient killer.
“I apologize,” he said.
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault,” she said. “I’m quite used to sleeping alone. What’s on your mind?”
“I’ve been thinking. This Tallis may have saved me.”
Soneste wiped her eyes and looked at the warforged. “How so?”
“He disabled me on the balcony, but he chose not kill me. If he had not disabled me, wouldn’t the assassin have killed me? I do not know. If I’d defeated Tallis, perhaps I could have stopped the assassin myself.”
Soneste recalled the wounds of the victims. “I think he may have saved you.”
“Or not,” Aegis said, sounding harsher. “At least I would have died with honor, defending my master and his family. I should not have survived.”
“We’ll have answers soon, I promise you.” Soneste glanced at the dent of his metal head. “I’m going to take you to a magewright shop to get some repairs today. I have an errand to run myself, but we’ll need to ditch Jotrem first.”