“What in the hells,” breathed Tabba, drifting over to lock it.
It couldn’t have been more than half an hour before Mister Delvyn arrived with Hemp at his heels, although to Fern the wait seemed interminable.
Delvyn was thin, sharply dressed in an expensive-looking slate tunic and black breeches, his graying hair carefully coiffed, mustache neat. He wore a gold necklace of office and had a fine leather folio tucked under one arm.
Hemp bobbed around behind his shoulder like a baby owl.
The solicitor surveyed the room briefly, taking in Astryx and Fern on the bench. His brows rose as he noted Zyll at the bars of her cell.
“Thanks for coming so swift, Mister Delvyn,” said Tabba. “I have to say I didn’t see this day coming.”
“Mm,” he said, cracking his folio and perusing its contents. “Well, let’s get her out of that cell, shall we?”
“Yes, sir!” Tabba hustled down the hall and unlocked the gate she’d locked less than an hour ago. Zyll obligingly emerged and toddled over to stand before Mister Delvyn.
“And am I correct that you consider the terms executed?” he asked.
It took Fern a moment to comprehend that he was addressing the goblin.
“Yep yep,” said Zyll, nodding affably. “We are, how do you say, stuck with the fork.”
“Excellent,” said Delvyn. “Then all that’s left is to settle up.”
“What,” said Fern, flatly.
Tabba had a hand to her mouth and a look that said she’d be telling this story for the rest of her days.
Hemp mostly looked politely confused.
“You put a bounty onyourself?” Astryx’s expression had beached itself halfway between anger and disbelief.
Zyll shrugged.
“But why would youdothat?” cried Fern, rubbing her forehead. The ache from Staysha’s clubbing days before had since subsided, but now returned with renewed purpose.
The goblin considered, then replied, “Tullah, she is wanting towhsscht.” She drew a finger across her throat illustratively. “She was very anger-ly. So.”
Astryx rose and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why didn’t you pay someone toescortyou?”
Zyll blinked back at her. “Would the Oaths-maiden have been esk-e-lorting?
At the elf’s expression, it was clear she would not have been. Fern thought she might also be reviewing precisely how challenging it had been to apprehend the goblin in the first place.
Astryx pointed at Delvyn. “How did you let this happen?”
He seemed unperturbed. “There’s nothing legally preventing it. I’m merely an instrument of the will of the client.” He shrugged. “Now, as to the matter of payment—a sum this substantial is obviously not practical to carry in coin, so instead I have a stamped bank chit for the full amount.”
He withdrew from the folio an expensive-looking slip of paper and snapped it crisply. “As a friendly piece of advice, were I you, I’d transfer it to an account of your own, rather than hauling it around in saddlebags or whatever it is you’re accustomed to doing.”
Fern had some questions about how the goblin had amassed these apparently staggering funds, but on reflection, she decided that was the least improbable thing that had happened so far.
Delvyn offered the slip to Astryx, glancing between her and Fern. “I assume you’ll be able to attend to any divisions between the two of you?”
“Oh,” said Fern. “No, that’s not—”
“I’m sure we can,” replied Astryx at the same time.
A clatter arose from outside.
