Negotiation

Following Jake's lead, we turned down one tangled alley after another, and despite the clutter of the route we arrived at last at a house that somehow kept a quiet atmosphere of its own.

Every other door on the street was wood. This one alone was iron, barred, with a crystal orb set where no one could miss it.

So that's how they watch the street from inside. An intercom, more or less. My guess held. The moment we drew near, the pink crystal flared once, bright, and a voice came out of it.

It was a young girl's voice, and the diction was so crisp it hardly sounded like the back alleys at all. Maybe you have to turn out sharp if you mean to survive down here.

Then again, thinking of it that way, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the original Selenia must have lived the same. Which is why she grew up kicking Jake between the legs...

And Jake, it seemed, went rather soft with a girl like that. The voice he used on her wasn't the put-on courtesy he had shown Lorensia. It was genuinely warm.

"Ah, Catherine. You remember — the other day, in Alley 4, a Weapon of the Outer Gods killed someone. This priestess and this nun came out to investigate because of it."

Catherine's crisp, sunny voice turned in an instant into one worn thin by the ways of the world. Not that her age had changed. There is simply an air that comes of having been through things.

The strength drained out of the voice, and the annoyance was plain. She was not glad to see us. Even so, a click of toothed gears shifting suggested she had no intention of turning us away.

The moment she said it, the door opened with a heavy clank, and a dim corridor showed beyond. Jake stepped onto that path first.

I was about to follow right after him when Lorensia leaned in and murmured a warning.

"Step exactly where Brother Jake steps. You never know. There could be traps."

"You seem to have built up quite a lot of feeling about the back alleys."

"Mm. There is a saying that one should hate the sin and not the person, but I don't look kindly on an environment that raises that kind of sin. And what do you intend to do if you lose Brother Jake's footprints while we stand here talking?"

"I remember every one of them. Rest easy."

"Ah. Right. Sister Selenia, you're already thoroughly at home in places like this. That's a relief."

It struck me as more suspicion than the moment warranted, but once I'd heard it I couldn't argue that a little caution would do any harm. I went on lightly, setting my feet only where Jake had set his.

Would there even be traps? If Jake is guiding us, people must come and go through this door to do business. On a path like that, was there any need to lay them? You might only end up harming your own customers.

Then again, if they have the craft to use a crystal orb as an intercom, maybe the traps only arm themselves when an unwelcome guest arrives. In the end, all that meant was that Lorensia's suspicion was sound.

Sound or not, we never actually sprang one. Whether I had followed Jake's steps properly, or there had never been anything there to begin with, we passed through the corridor quickly and came into a dark room.

Two solid men stood to either side, anchoring the place between them, and at the center a girl sat in a chair far larger than her own body, both feet kicked up on the seat.

Her face, steeped in the weariness of the worldly, called up the voice I had heard through the crystal. There was no chance some other girl was lurking in a place like this. The child who looked about ten had to be Catherine.

Annoyed as she was, she received us with courtesy, giving Lorensia and me a quick once-over.

"Welcome. Did you come because you need testimony about that incident, or information on the weapon?"

"You deal in information here as well?"

"A back-alley black market is supposed to handle that much. Of course, what we don't know, we don't know. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Know something you're not supposed to know, and... you understand. Our lives would be on the line too."

"I understand. It's only that we came out over the Weapons of the Outer Gods for the safety of everyone still living."

"Good. If the intent is purely that, then you're welcome here. Weapons like those bombs are better properly locked away as soon as possible."

Is it because we're clergy? Speaking so frankly, with nothing added and nothing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠held back, left an impression. Maybe she was trying to win our trust that way. Or maybe that, too, was a trick. Well, Lorensia can judge for herself. I only came out to watch and learn.

Wait. That means once I'm used to this work, I have to come to places like this alone.

Ah. Before I get used to the work, shouldn't I go learn some hand-to-hand somewhere?

"You said Alley 4, didn't you? A victim of a Weapon of the Outer Gods turned up there. And I don't believe that was the only one of those weapons put to use. They cross over from another world. The notion that something barely larger than a fist came through just once — well. I don't think anyone believes that."

"You're quite right. And if that's what brought you all the way here... you came suspecting that whoever picked one up sold it off in this place, didn't you?"

"Exactly. Or word of someone who offered to sell one. News of the people holding them would do just as well."

At Lorensia's questioning, Catherine bit at a fingernail and sank into thought, weighing something on a scale of her own.

The answer that came after that short pause made me feel, instinctively, that this job of ours was not going to go smoothly.

"All right. Ten gold per weapon. And one gold for each piece of information about a weapon. How does that sound?"

"What? No — I'm telling you it's dangerous if those weapons aren't sequestered."

"Dangerous, yes. But honestly, from where we stand, it's hard to rest easy just because a weapon ends up in a priestess's hands and is therefore safe. So we have to take our cut."

"Ngh... No, wait. If you can sell them like that, that means there are Weapons of the Outer Gods here, doesn't it?"

"Not in my hands at the moment. They're simply somewhere only I can find them. So that if thieves ever break in, they don't walk off with them for nothing."

Offering Jake a single silver without a second thought had been easy enough. Buying guns at ten gold apiece, it seemed, was another matter.

I had no idea what gold or silver was actually worth. Still, watching Lorensia struggle, I could tell it was no small sum. Not the kind of money a private person could simply spend. Which was why the two of them were locked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in a contest of wills, trying to get the guns — or at least word of them — without paying.

Catherine had no particular reason to hand the guns over freely. Church of Nals or not, these people were under no obligation to obey us.

And Jake had said it earlier, hadn't he — that the emblem marked us as the Church of Nals. He hadn't named us priestess and nun from the clothes alone. If people sorted faiths by their marks, then other religions existed too.

From Catherine's side of it, if the deal sours, she can just pass them along to someone else.

"Ngh... Even so, keeping them could put you in danger. There might be people with bad intentions coming after them, don't you think?"

"That's right. Which is why I want them off my hands as soon as I can. But we don't have the connections. Sell something like this to another religion, and don't you think they'd just take it and launder it into a holy relic?"

"We're trying to stop exactly that..."

"I know the Church of Nals follows a fairly upright doctrine. But honestly, from the position of someone who doesn't believe in your side, there's no guarantee the Church of Nals won't do the same. So I'd like you to pay in coin, or pay something else of equal worth."

For a child, she talks remarkably well. Lorensia, by contrast, couldn't seem to hold her head up the way she did when she was tormenting me.

Hm. If I just shoved a gun in her face and threatened her, I suspect she'd hand them over. Do that, though, and we'd be throwing away the image of a virtuous faith.

Better I stay quiet. I was always good at doing what I was told. Negotiation was never a talent of mine.

In games I'm the sucker who buys things dear and, the moment I don't need them, sells them off cheap. Staying still is how I help.

So I stayed in the back with my arms folded and kept watching their war of words. I was staring on so indifferently that Jake, displeased by something or other, grumbled at me from the side.

"You sure you're the one who came for the Weapons of the Outer Gods? Why so relaxed? Not planning to help the priestess?"

"I'm sure the priestess has it well in hand. I only came along to learn the work."

"Oh, class-changing from nun to priest? Ha — a priest out of the back alleys. When you make bishop, or Cardinal, later, you better not pretend you don't know me."

What am I supposed to do with this. I'm a nun right now, and I've already forgotten who Jake even is. Not that I had forgotten on purpose. The person stuffed inside had simply been swapped out.

Still, for someone out of the back alleys, he doesn't seem entirely bad. I settled for a shrug, and for judging him once I'd read the diary.

If there's even a single line with his name on it, and a decent word left beside it, I'll be good to him. For now, staying quiet ought to be enough.

In the brief moment our attention wandered, Lorensia seemed to have reached a decision.

"Then how about we take care of something that's difficult for you to handle? Something, for instance, that would be hard to resolve from here."

"Hm. Yes. That's what negotiation is, Priestess. Public order in the back alleys is poor, and the guards keep their mouths shut, so there is something worth leaving to you."

And thanks to that, I ended up witnessing religion and the back alleys in collusion.

Was this really the Lorensia who had loathed the back alleys so fiercely? Honestly, it made me feel rather small.