Every Wolf Has its Day

[Morry]

As Mogan was walking toward the entry hall, his female charge at his side, another girl smashed into him from beside him. Like swatting a fly, he waved one of his hands over her head and used it to try to shove her by the shoulder out of his way. The grey girl made a little drunken sputter as he did so, but he didn't hear whatever it was she'd muttered. His attention was completely distracted for a full second while he pushed at her, but he didn't think anything of it. The drink had a way of softening everything, and making you feel warm on the inside. Unlike the usual Mogan, he was not keeping particularly good track of his purse.

Mogan swung his arm around the nameless temptress he'd been swooning for the past half hour, trying to make it difficult for her to escape his grasp. "Mynxie!" he called out from the entry just near the door, and the thin young woman who'd been keeping to herself appeared from the darkness. She had the parasol in her arms and looked ready to raise it. Mogan had plans for Ms. Drunken.
___________________

"Well I can't just up and leave you here now can I?" he asked, but it was obvious that he could, in fact, just leave the man alone. Morry just didn't feel like doing so. The events of the previous week had left him feeling a plethora of emotions. There was numbness, there was hatred, and there was something of denial sitting in there too. Morry had never liked to kill people. He had never liked the monster he became on half the nights of year. He just wasn't the kind of person to lust for blood and violence, despite his natural talent in finding such things.

"I hope you got yourself nice and rich off of those poor bastards, eh? Because I didn't get a fecking bishan of it. And your little girlfriend got my arm killed, you feckhead." His voice was low, gritty with some sort of illness he'd picked up a few days ago. In a strange way it was dangerous, like the low bellow of some beast of wrath. The murmur in the bar was quiet now, with the only real noise coming from two intentionally tittering women and a very drunk traveler.

Morry swung his dirtied head forward, and thrust out the arm that had been damaged by touching the drum. It was gnarled with darkness, sickly and clammy. The skin had a transparent property to it, stretched over the bone as if only the arm had not eaten in a year. It was skeletal and grotesque, stained a terrible brown color like rotten flesh.
"I want some compensation for this shite."

Everything was still all about him. Only he was hurting. Only he was ever hurting, as it always had been. Thad didn't matter. As far as Morry was concerned, he and Thad were merely thieves of the same caliber. Rivals. Nothing more.

[Lis Spencer]

Lis's hand was creeping towards the fat man's purse, steadily and purposefully, confident he was too drunk to realize what was happening. It would be easy. Most rich people took better care of their moneybags. even when staggering drunk, but this one's attention seemed solely focused on her body instead; which for another person might have been upsetting, but which Lis paid no attention to at all. Just as her fingers brushed the smooth skin of the bulging purse, however, someone stumbled right into the fat man's side, and Lis (whose senses were still sharp and alert as ever) could have sworn she heard a low voice whisper, "Grab."

Lis was startled, but only for a moment. Her thief's instincts kicked in almost right away, and she took every advantage of the distraction presented. The purse was in her hand in an instant, and while the fat man shoved off the girl who'd caused the distraction Lis thrust the coin bag deep into her shirt, where it would be safe until she got away from the pig from whom she'd stolen it.

Breathing a silent thank-you to the girl whond caused the distraction, Lis put her mind to the next problem -- how to get away from the fat man. He had his arm around her now, and he was strong. Lis kept up her behavior of a drunken, careless wench, but meanwhile her thoughts were whirring. She had what she came for. Time to get out.

[Dianelopa]

Dianelopa saw the quick move of the girl's hand, snatching the purse and she breathed a quick sigh of relief, like when you see the entertainers succeed on the stage, at a distance and nonetheless drawn into the story. Dianelopa wasn't quite aware of how deep she was going to let herself get drawn in, not into the story but into something that was really happening. In any case, it was obvious that there was a still a big problem. The girl had the purse, but the man had the girl in such a firm grip, that she could hardly make her escape.

The fat man had swatted at her, leaving a stinging red patch on her face. She stepped back, let them move a few steps forward and then thought, if they go, the man will discover eventually that she has the purse and the whole effort would have been in vain, maybe even worse, so she watched, trying to come up with a new plan to help the girl escape.

"Mynxie" she heard the man say and a skinny child appeared from the other room holding an umbrella.

"Mynxie", Dianelopa called. The girl looked up so Lopa waved. "Come here."

Mynxie seemed to be rather confused by this, took a few steps toward Dianelopa, then stopped and turned her gaze questioningly toward Mogan.
"It's important," Dianelopa said.

Now Mogan the fat man was looking at her as well, disapprovingly.
By now, other people were looking too. Oh dear, thought Dianelopa, this is not the right tactic. The girl will never get away with all these people watching. Or?
"That man," Dianelopa screeched pointing at Mogan, "he's trying to kidnap that girl." Some people got up from their seats and headed in their direction, but Dianelopa could see that they might well be headed for her rather than for Mogan. It looked dangerous and she knew well, that men were more likely to go after a weak female for whatever purpose than after a big man. She ducked, moved away, slid behind the table she'd been sitting at.

The room was quite dark with only candles burning here and there, it was also smokey and with people both quite drunk and crowding around because of the disturbance she'd created, it was not impossible to find a way to sneak out.

But when she reached the door she saw that Mogan was already outside, still holding the girl and Mynxie had followed him. I blew it, was Dianelopa's first thought. But one more try can't hurt.
"Mynxie," she said, not so loud, but loud enough that Mogan could also hear, "what I wanted to tell you was that I've got Mogan's purse and if you want it, just follow me." With that she dashed off into the dark streets that she knew well, hoping that Mogan would drop the girl and follow her. She was sure she could get away.
________________________________________________

Thad stared in horror at Morry's arm. "What the heck," he muttered. "How did that happen?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. What he didn't like was that Morry seemed to be blaming him. "Look," he said. "I didn't do that to you. OK? I haven't even seen you in ages." He slapped the table in a rather shaky manner, "I don't owe you." He paused and then without any thought behind it, just kind automatically he said. "It's you that owes me."

[Morry]

The grey woman was trying to pester him still, buzzing around him and his charge much like a large insect. He was not used to being treated in such a way by any person, male or female. Having money and being large had its perks, one of them being that Mogan had a lot of influence on people in general. Individuals had a tendency to fear him and what he might be capable of. Still, this was a foreign land and the girl who bothered them did not look particularly intelligent to him. She had heard him speak Mynxie's name and decided that she would call the girl over like she was the slave's master.

Mogan narrowed his eyes and made a small grunting sound. He had never been cruel to the majority of his slaves, with Marle being a notable exception to that. Mynxie had no one else in the world to trust but Mogan and his house, as she had been born to two Tan Xian servants and thus belonged exclusively to her master. She was used to taking orders, and used to people intentionally ignoring her. Confusion flooded her large eyes at being called by name by a complete stranger, and for a moment habit tempted her to move toward the woman. A hostile look from Mogan forced her hand and she stayed by his side, a bit reluctantly.

He looked briefly around the tavern when the woman shouted lies to everyone about his intentions with the drunk girl. Several individuals were moving toward him, and he rolled his eyes flatly at them. Mogan looked down at the drunk girl and gave a sharp smile to her, edging her out of the tavern with Mynxie following with the parasol. It was still raining a bit outside, although the worst of it had already passed. His grip around the drunk girl's arm was firm, but not intentionally painful. Mynxie was raising the parasol over their heads when the grey woman revealed that she had stolen Mogan's purse, and at this the man seemed to explode.

He shoved Mynxie out of his way and by mistake he pushed her into the mud. He let go of the woman he had planned to bed with that night and made several large strides toward the grey girl. Her footsteps sounded against the wet ground, but the darkness was on her side. Mogan pulled a small, gnomish-looking weapon from inside his robes. It held an insignia of a golden lion pulling the head from a sea serpent, twisting about the edges and around the trigger for the device. He shot it into the darkness, but the ricochet that sounded was empty. A clear miss.

Mogan cursed, and when he turned around, Mynxie was whimpering and the drunken girl had disappeared.

_____________________

"Witchcraft of one form or another. The point is that it happened," Morry hissed, pulling the arm away and hiding it under the table. Such weakness was shameful to him, and he didn't want anyone else to see. "It happened and your stupid little bitch of a girlfriend knew. Now I'm stuck like this. Forever." He firmly believed this was what had happened. The look that Lopa had given him when she had met him in the forest was unmistakable, in his eyes. She was a cunning creature, a beautiful poison that he was no match against. He hated her.

"It's you that owes me."
"What?" The hairs along the back of his neck stood on end. His upper lip rose to reveal perfectly human teeth, a habit from having a lupine head.

"I don't owe you a fecking thing." His whole body seemed to tighten then, his muscles all knotting together and his feet tensing, as if ready to spring. His teeth clenched. His brow furrowed. His knuckles cracked as he pulled his fingers together in a fist. Hatred consumed him then.

[Lis Spencer]

This was too easy. Lis had been mildly concerned for a moment, considering the rich man's near-inhuman grip on her neck, but she figured all she had to do was provide a distraction so she could wriggle away from him -- except that it's pretty damned hard to make your own distraction while being the object in need of one. Nevertheless, she wracked her brain, looking for any possible solution that didn't involve the rich man undressing her and discovering her to be in possession of his purse. But --

Then the unexpected happened. The same woman who'd helped Lis get the purse was now making a nuisance of herself to the rich man, calling his slave to her and trying to rally the other filthy patrons to her side. It was a noble attempt, but it wasn't good enough: the rich man's slave stayed where she was, and he dragged Lis out into the night. Now would be a really good time to make a break for it, she thought, but she knew it was useless. As scrawny and waifish as she was, she knew she had zero chance of breaking his meaty fingers' hold.

But the other woman wasn't done yet. Lis barely registered what was going on until the rich man let her go with a snarl of rage, barreling after the strange woman...who, it now became clear, was claiming she stole his purse -- a beautiful, wonderful distraction. What the devil? If she was caught, he would have no mercy -- and the strange woman knew Lis had the purse. Why was she doing this? Street people didn't help each other, they helped themselves.

Lis pondered this no more that a split-second, before her reflexes kicked in and she was bolting down the alley in the opposite direction the woman had run. It was too late to help the woman, even if she had wanted to -- really, she got herself into her mess, and it wasn't Lis's job to help her.

Still, she couldn't help hoping that the woman had made it safely away.

[Dianelopa]

Lopa ran through the narrow dark streets that she'd gotten to know well. Soon she heard only the ordinary dampened sounds coming from houses, no one was following her. She stopped, got her breathe and only then could she size up the situation. She'd tried to help a young girl who obviously needed bishani and didn't want to get it by letting men take advantage of her. Dianelopa could sympathize with that. That's why she helped. She hoped the girl had been able to escape. Staying there to see would not have been advisable. But now she was exhausted, both mentally and physically. The past few days had been harsh to say the least. But with the adrenalin draining out, Dianelopa now found herself unable to get her thoughts in coherent order and had no idea where to go next. I have a home, she thought. Don't I? But it's also Thad's home. That's why I didn't want to go there. But why? Thad's my husband. Maybe I should go home. There's a bed. I really need a bed. She started walking slowly in the direction of that home.

After the massive exertion on her damaged ankle, during which she had not noticed the pain, it had now returned with renewed vengeance, so excruciating that tears welled up in Lopa's eyes. She hobbled and moaned and hardly noticed the tavern she was passing, except that as she'd already passed it, the thought of a numbing schnapps seemed like a good idea. She hobbled back to the door and went in.

She sat down at an empty table near the door and rested her head on her arms. When the waiter came and asked what she wanted she didn't even look up, just muttered, "a schnapps."

She could have gone to sleep except the pain in her ankle kept waking her. During one of these pain and awareness periods she heard voices, very low, what they were saying she couldn't discern, but there was something vaguely familiar about them.

The schnapps appeared and she drank it, asked for another while the first one slowly circulated into her blood stream. After the second schnapps, the pain seemed to dimish a little. It could have been a sign to simply doze off, but the voices had become irritating, not louder, just irritating. Dianelopa looked up. She couldn't believe her eyes. It was Thad and Morry sitting together, both with tense looks twisting their faces.

No, no, she thought, I'm just really drunk and dreaming this. She put her head back down on her arms and let the aether waver about her head.

[Morry]

Morry couldn't tell if it was smugness, or just ignorance that was plastered across Thad's face. The thief was frowning lightly, not looking at Morry, staring at an empty glass in front of him. At Morry's tensing, he didn't react. Instead the thief idly began to play with the pint glass, tipping it forward and backward rhythmically. He rolled the weight of the glass one way, and then the other, teasing it to fall over. It didn't. Morry began to growl a bit, which was a stupid noise when it came from a human. He pushed a filthy hand through his filthy hair again, and wiped it on his filthy pant leg. The pants were torn in several places and caked with mud. He picked at some dirt on his arm that was itching him, and shivered a bit as a breeze swept in from the door to the inn opening; he still didn't have a shirt.

He hated this life. He hated the people in it. He hated her. He hated Thad. All of them.
More importantly, he hated himself.

"If I were you, and thank goodness that I am not you, I would not reduce this to any form of violence, friend," said Zou in his head. Morry pushed his fists to his forehead and hit himself lightly in the skull. Thad's eyes swept up to him briefly to see this.

With little warning, Morry threw himself over the table with such force that it sent his chair clattering to the ground. He grabbed Thad by his shirt with his good hand and put their heads together so there was barely an inch of space between them.
"Why the feck do I owe you, you little weasel? Huh?"

[Lis Spencer]

Lis twisted and turned, following the crooked and ever-narrower streets in a pattern that was random and largely made up as she went along -- at least it would throw off anyone who might be following her, although she doubted that anyone was. The woman from the tavern -- whose name Lis didn't even know -- had provided enough of a distraction that Lis has become a redundancy, something to be overlooked. Which was perfect, of course, since she had the rich man's purse and was fully intending to vanish with it.

A full fifteen minutes of first running, then jogging, then ordinary slinking about assured Lis that she indeed had no tails. She knew this city's slums like the back of her hand, and she knew where she was and where she ought to go within seconds of ceasing her misdirectional trip. Another fifteen minutes and she was in her most recent kip, a little well-hidden spot tucked away seven feet off the ground, where the roofs of two buildings met as they leaned out over a narrow alley -- well-hidden, and protected from rain and damp by the eaves that hung above her from the buildings' second and third stories. It was there that she finally thrust her hand down her shirt and retrieved the purse, opening it in the dim light of a flickering flame in one of the two buildings she rested between.

There was more inside the purse than she'd even originally hoped -- had allowed herself to hope -- it was enough to keep her fed for several months, if she spent it wisely. She could lay off the thieving for a bit...throw off anything that might be after her scent...relax for a while. Her eyes glinted with the amount of bishani in the purse. This was...this was paradise.

[Dianelopa]

Thad was completely taken by surprise at Morry's lunge across the table. He had no time to think of any clever defense or any retaliation. His head was pressed against Morry's head, he was almost choking because of Morry's grip on his shirt and collar. But his hands were free. He tried to loosen Morry's grip on the shirt, so he could breathe. Since he had two hands and Morry only one he was able, not to remove Morry's hand, but at least to get the shirt looser. He gasped to replenish his oxygen supply and Morry's words now echoed in his head.

"Why the feck do I owe you, you little weasel? Huh?"

It was obvious that Morry was very angry. Anyone would be having lost an arm and hand. Not that Thad's thoughts were that clear, but something like that was rumbling in his head. He wasn't interested in fighting with Morry. Really, he just wanted to get out of there, so he said. "OK, you don't owe me, OK? I'm tired. I screwed up. I want to go home or somewhere else. Just not here, and I don't ever want to see you again. So let's just go our ways. OK?"

The voices were louder and Dianelopa couldn't ignore them any more. It was the voices of Morry and Thad, no doubt about it. The haze in her mind wasn't clearing, yet Lopa was less and less inclined to think she was dreaming. She opened her eyes and saw the two males in a clinch. Morry angry and aggressive, Thad, she'd heard his words, wanted out. I suppose I could help him, she thought. He's my husband. But nothing in her seemed to be driving her to get up and intervene.

She saw Morry's shriveled arm. She'd seen it before in the forest, but hadn't believed it was real. The destruction hadn't really registered. Now it did. She knew how it had happened. Was it her fault? She tried to remember what had happened there in the forest. But it was all like a kaleidoscope of senselessness. In any case, she felt sorry for Morry somehow. Not compassion, just something that prevented her from making her presence known, as it seemed neither of them had noticed her. She slowly got up trying not to groan at the pain in her ankle and turning her back to them she tried to slip out the door.

[Morry]

Even though he wasn't wolf, and had lost his superior sense of smell, he could smell the fear dripping from Thad. He was sure that the thief was afraid of him, perhaps because he had witnessed what Morry was capable of when his human mind was tainted with the beast within. Thad's eyes were wide, the green in them as shocking as a patch of grass in winter, bright and devastating. In his eyes Morry could see the same fear as that of the people he had killed, the fear that had driven him out of Zhaltev, away from Ulvira. It was a plea for mercy, one that he was usually incapable of hearing due to his inability to control himself while wolf. It was never really one of his strong suites as a human either, the whole compassion thing. Morry had always been more of a taker than a giver, because he was nothing short of a selfish asshole.

Still, his grip on Thad loosened. The stares they were getting in the tavern started to mind their own business again, and the world and its tension seemed to drift back to normal.
"Good. Control your instincts. You have control now, thus you must take control of yourself," said Zou in his head.
Morry licked his teeth.
Slowly, he let Thad go, letting him lean back into his chair and pulling away. He stared at the table, refusing to look at the thief, like a child that had done something wrong. A barmaid, who had been watching along with everyone else, bustled over after it seemed like the commotion had died down. She looked first at Thad, to make sure he remained without injury, and then at Morry. "Fancy anotha' glass for ye nerves, mate?" she said, in a rather thick voice. She was well aware that Morry hadn't had anything to drink. Experience told her that angry men got angrier when drunk, but also that they becameless effective in causing real destruction.

Morry raised his good hand slightly to signal that he needed a drink. He needed one badly right about then. The barmaid left.
"You need to go now, Thad." His voice was cracked because his throat was dry from shouting and dehydration. He felt ill. Stress had churned his stomach more than usual. He couldn't remember the last meal he had, which was a good indication that he had eaten a deer, or some poor traveler, while he was a wolf the night before in the woods.
"This is quite the improvement, my friend," said Zou.
"GO."
He wanted to hurt Thad. He wanted to, but he didn't. In that moment he made a silent vow. It was to leave Thad and Lopa alone, forever. It was to forget about them. They could be happy. They would be happy, without him dangling fear around in front of them forevermore.
He felt lonelier than ever in that moment.

[Lis Spencer]

Lis considered sleeping -- heavens knew she needed the rest. Huddled up here in this joint between roofs, sheltered from the elements and the unwelcome eye, she could sleep quite comfortably curled up with her new purse of bishani against her stomach -- and no one, save the extraordinarily determined, would be able to find her.

Or...she could celebrate. Take out a handful of bishani and go blow them someplace. Buy a hot meal, perhaps a drink or two. Leave the rest stuffed up here in near-absolute security until she came back, be it an hour or a week later. If she ran into trouble, she could come back here, or scarper back to one of her other hideaways scattered throughout the city....

Stupid. Lis scrunched her brows in, talking herself out of a dangerous and utterly ridiculous plan. No need to go out tonight. Got money, don't got food...that can wait until tomorrow -- y'need the sleep. Get it. The top rules of the street: You never know when your next meal is coming from, so eat while you have the chance. you never know when you'll have money, so snick any given the opportunity. And you never know the next time you'll have a decent sleep, be it for an hour or for a night, so take your rest where you can. Lis decided to put aside her wild-hair notions of a night's celebration -- for a purse full of bishani -- and sleep instead, and sleep she did, curled up between the roofs -- for once, with nary a care in the world.

[Dianelopa]

What an awful day it had been, or was it a week? Pain, tiredness, confusion enveloped Dianelopa as she meandered slowly toward her home. She still wasn't sure if that is where she wanted to be going. Even if Thad wasn't there, he could always come and she didn't feel up to confronting him. She thought of Benjamin. She hadn't thought about him for a long time. Odd. He'd suddenly become irrelevant or was he? He'd wanted her to follow Thad and spy on him to see if he'd delivered some package. That's how it all had started. And how had it ended? Thad delivered it, she'd seen that and then that attack and Morry, it was that package that he'd taken, wasn't it? And he ended up losing his arm. Maybe, thought Dianelopa, I should go and tell Benjamin about all of this. Isn't that what he wanted? But why had he sent Thad off with a package that was so dangerous. Benjamin wanted to hurt Thad, that must have been it, but it ended up being Morry who got hurt. Morry has no idea how this all happened. Maybe I should tell him, she thought.

At that moment she picked up a smell that had a vague familiarity. Usually she ignored smells. There were too many of them for someone with such exaggerated olfactory nerves. But this was something different and somehow significant. She looked around. The streets were empty, there were no sounds. Still she stood and sniffed, trying to place it. It seemed to be coming from above. Maybe someone has their window open she thought. It isn't danger. I'm sure of that.

Perhaps at that moment Lis Spencer moved just slightly in her hiding place and Dianelopa heard it. Someone's up there, she thought. What a strange hiding place. The girl who had stolen the purse in the tavern came to mind. That must have been what the smell reminded her of. I wonder why she's up there? But Dianelopa didn't feel a need to ponder on it except to think, I guess she's safe. Good enough.

Something else was on her mind. She knew where Morry was, she'd only left him but minutes ago, or maybe it was longer. He wasn't likely to stay there forever. She felt compelled to go back and tell him that it was all Benjamin's fault, or maybe Puck's. Well, Morry wouldn't know who that was, but he should.

She went back to the tavern, slowly opened the door and peered in. Morry was there alone. Thad had left. She went in the door and then hesitated. Maybe this was not the thing to do.

[Morry]

Morry didn't look up as Thad's chair squealed backward and he left the tavern. He waited for the sound of the wooden door shutting before he looked up again, just in time for the barmaid to bring him a pint of ale. It was his first, and certainly not his last, of the night. The tavern would serve for another three hours, Morry guessed, before it closed for the evening and reopen midday tomorrow. Three hours was enough to drink his sorrows away, to forget everything that had happened and forget her stupid, grey face. He took the glass in his good hand and swallowed large gulps of sub-par alcohol, emptying half of the glass. There was no one else sitting at his table anymore; in fact there weren't many patrons in general. Most had already gone home for the night, as Tiger's Crossing had never been a hotspot in Marn.

When he set the ale down, a familiar face was looking at him from the doorway of the inn. The dirty whispers and foul exchanges of the environment seemed to quiet for a moment, although it was likely only his imagination.

"Don't do anything rash, now, friend," said Zou in his head. "We wouldn't want another mishap." Zou worried for the safety of the girl, but if Morry had not hurt Thad, he doubted the girl would be any different.

"I'm not going to hurt her," said Morry under his breath, trying not to look foolish talking to himself, which was a very difficult thing to achieve. He gulped down the second half of the pint glass as fast as he could, although it made his stomach do a flip due to its poorly brewed nature. He stood from the table, still shirtless and damp, and walked over to Lopa without purpose. The bag with Zou in it was still strapped to his back, as what was becoming usual. Strangely, being away from Zou to Morry was almost unthinkable. It was like Zou was a part of him, and to leave him alone was like leaving his soul behind. He couldn't do it.

Seeing her made him... glad. He didn't know why.
He tried not to look imposing, but there was still the anger, still the confusion from his conversation with Thad. Why she was here, he didn't know. Perhaps Thad had run back to her and told her everything that had happened, but it seemed too fast for that to have happened. Morry licked his teeth and stared at her. She had known all along that the drum would poison him, kill his arm, invade his mind. She'd done it on purpose, he was convinced.
"So this is the girl then, judging by your emotion," Zou's voice echoed in his brain. Morry put his hand against his forehead.
"I cannot see her, so you must tell me," said the drum. Morry frowned.

"Why are you here?" Morry asked her, like she was on trial. They were still standing in front of the door, but there wasn't any traffic coming in or out of the inn.

[Dianelopa]

Dianelopa thought he sounded awfully aggressive and she hesitated, thinking she had made a mistake and was poised to leave quickly. But she'd taken the trouble to make the painful walk back, and leaving again with unfinished business wasn't a good option either.

"Look," she muttered still unsure of whether to say anything. "You don't know." She gulped and Morry's reaction did not look friendly, on the contrary. "I mean," she said. "What happened. That was all Benjamin's fault. That's what you have to know." She eyed Morry who did not seem about to accept this statement. But he didn't do anything other than a kind of restless tilting back and forth. "Benjamin wanted Thad to deliver that thing to that man Salazar and I was supposed to follow him and make sure he did it. Thad didn't know how dangerous it was. I think Benjamin wanted Thad to be damaged by it, not you. I don't know why you were there at all. It wasn't Benjamin who told you to go there was it? I was just supposed to see what happened and then tell Benjamin. I saw what happened but I didn't tell Benjamin. I'm not going to tell Benjamin, because I think he wanted to hurt someone." She stopped talking and waited for Morry's reaction.

Thad in the meantime, had started walking toward the home he'd shared with Dianelopa. But when he got there, the thought of facing her was suddenly unpleasant. He'd failed her, he'd failed everyone, he was feeling sick. There was no way he could explain the whole thing to her, and likely she'd want to know. No, he couldn't face that. So he just kept on walking. The only other place that might offer a semblance of comfort was the hideout. She did know about that too. In fact, he'd seen her there recently under peculiar circumstances, but when and why did not light up in his disturbed brain. He doubted she was there now. He would go and sleep off this befuddlement and drunkenness and maybe in morning he could think better.

[Morry]

"Benjamin?" Morry tried to remember the name, but his memory had never been perfect. Perhaps it had been the elf, the one who had mentioned the box that day in the woods.

His body moved back and forth oddly, and his frown deepened. He did not believe her. That, or he did not want to believe her. Everything in his world felt simpler when he knew exactly who to blame things on. If he didn't know, he faltered.

Lopa's words muddied the image that Morry had drawn of what had happened. What had happened, anyway? He had only wanted part of the reward. He thought the box would contain unbelievable riches, seeing as how it was so important to everyone. The incident at the mansion with the troll had convinced him that Thad and Lopa were evil people, that they had not appreciated his help. Morry remembered watching them over the weeks, following closely as the relationship between the thieves developed into something more.

Morry hated it.
He hated all things good, especially love.

An image of Thad and Lopa came to him. Thad's face was twisted, and Lopa beautiful. They kissed. The image burned Morry. He felt the pain in his bad arm flare up suddenly, and he grabbed it with his good hand. Then he looked at Lopa.
"You think Benjamin was after Salazar?" he asked through clenched teeth, trying and failing to ignore the pain.
He paused for a while.
"Look all I wanted was the money. I thought the box had something valuable in it. I just wanted my fair share of the goods from the mansion," he explained. It was half true. The reasons why Morry had attacked the cart were much more complicated than that, and had much more to do with his self-destructive nature than his view of justice.

"I didn't want to kill anybody," he said. He looked at the floor. "You should really go. Just let me forget about you, forget about your boy. I won't bother you again."