Echoes of Invasion: There’ll Be Heledd to Pay | Scene 15

Heppa exits the Parting Glass through a backdoor she had not known existed and then re-enters from the front. She picks a location at the bar counter, and Heledd pulls a cord that rings bells on each floor of the building to signal that there is a customer. Heppa hears the distant tinkling followed by the sound of Alric’s footsteps as he trots down the three flights of stairs from the aviary. Heppa grips her walking stick tightly and tries to stiffen her pose a bit more. Then she tilts her head down to cast her ruddy features in shadow. The curtains to the kitchen rustle a bit as Heledd, Tric Manu, and Mate jockey for positions to watch the show.

Alric emerges from the staircase near the front door and flips up a section of the counter top so that he can step behind the bar. Gone are the bloody shirt and rumpled look from early this morning. Instead, he is clean-shaven and dressed in his usual comfortable fashion, complete with the leather falconer’s guard on his left forearm. 

In the heat of the moment, Heppa abandons adopting a strange accent and simply tries to sound like Mother. However, what comes out, as she sneaks a glance at Alric, is, “Um, one morning brandy! Please?”

Alric’s features stay level as he replies, “Right away!” so at first Heppa thinks the disguise is working. However, once he has turned away from her to the shelf, she hears a quiet snicker and sees his shoulders shaking a little as he tries to contain his mirth. He grabs the bottle of brandy and tucks it in his left elbow, then picks up a glass and steps up to the counter across from her. He sets down the snifter and pours just a splash of amber liquid into it. “You know, I don’t really think they’d be saying please,” he says as pushes the drink across to her. “Not that many nobles do.”

“Moss below!” Heppa swears. “Oh! I mean—”

“Also, they wouldn’t say that,” Alric adds, smiling. He goes on to reassure her that her outfit is a step in the right direction.

“Seems more human?”

“Maybe once we get the cloak on you as well, that will also make individual body movements harder to discern…”

“So it was the sleeves that got you! Or was it all of it?” Heppa asks. “How could you tell?”

“You didn’t change your facial features, Heppa. I mean…”

“Oh, right. You know me.”

Alric laughs and nods. “This is not a mask. But it is a good disguise. No one is just going to glance at you and think they’ve seen an elf.”

“So then the angle of my hat mustn’t be covering my face enough…” Heppa suggests, continuing to consider how she can address these weaknesses.

“Yes, we’ll just…” Alric slides aside the bottle of brandy that was between them and leans forward. He reaches across the bar to tug the brim of her hat down further, his hand so close to her face for a moment. Then he straightens back up, offering encouragement and more advice. “The cane? Leaning on that is definitely a good idea. And add the cloak,” he reiterates. “It will conceal how your body is naturally moving. You should be wearing that anyway, just in case people start throwing knives.”

“And let Tric do the talking,” Heppa says with a chuckle herself.

“That might be for the best,” Alric acknowledges.

At that moment, her cousin strolls out from the kitchen. “Why, hello, stranger!” he greets her as he joins her at the counter, Mate on his shoulder.

“I’m having my morning brandy!” she tells him in a snooty voice and takes a sip.

“You need a cloak, too,” Alric advises, seeing Tric’s outfit for the first time. “Mine is on a hook behind the door in my room. Heledd’s is cleaned and hung there as well. Do not leave here without the cloaks. That is the best thing you can do for not getting hit by a knife.”

“Don’t get hit in the first place,” Tric notes.

“Yes.” Alric turns and grabs another snifter, which he sets in front of Tric. “And if you are going to drink that cuttlefish ward, you’ll need something to wash it down.” He pours Tric a brandy as well.

“How long is that stuff good for?” Tric asks. “We’re going to watch the grand melee first and then—”

“Brandy seems to be alcohol,” Heppa says. “I think it would last a while.” Alric laughs.

Tric twists up his face. “Walked right into that one,” he acknowledges, and Heppa joins the laughter.

Once they have gotten out the giggles, Alric says more seriously, “You just need to make sure you take it before you do anything that has a chance of exposing you to Sleidr.” The elves have concerns about how soon it will wear off, but Alric assures them, “Taking it now will give it time to circulate in your system.”

“All right,” Tric says, placing two small vials on the counter.

“No ill effects from it?” Heppa asks, remembering Sir Marthynec’s reactions to his medication. “Do we expect any side effects?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Tric says casually.

Heppa looks down at what is in her vial, curious. “Did he say what’s in it?” She sniffs at it and is relieved to find it does not smell at all like what she brewed. This is not really surprising, since this is a preventative, not a purgative. Also, Damal indicated he has apothecary ingredients that are much more finely-tuned than what Heppa was able to scrape together here. “Damal did not mention any side effects?” she checks one last time.

“I was not inclined to ask questions,” Tric says, not that he thought to do so. “He was very busy and we’d already taken up a lot of his time this morning. The only way to find out is to drink it.” He quickly tosses back the brandy and then drinks his elixir, almost retching at the taste. 

“Down the rabbit hole,” Heppa agrees. She drinks them in the opposite order, but she does not get the chaser down fast enough to hide the flavor of the potion. “How did you know, Alric?” He looks at her quizzically. “That it would taste so bad,” she clarifies.

“Damal is not a bartender. Most of what he brews and delivers is not intended to give anyone pleasure. It is intended to solve whatever problem the person is facing.”

“All right!” Tric announces. “I think we’ve got everything ready, then. We can pop over to the grand melee and wave some favors.”

Alric frowns a bit. “Take those favors off your bird,” he advises.

“I suppose that is a bit gauche,” Tric allows, looking over at Mate, who is standing on the bar with Terwaen’s favor still in his beak and the Estbryn ribbon around one leg.

Social niceties are not Alric’s point. “If the bird is going to be hanging out with you—”

“Mate will be waiting at the ruin. He won’t be around us when we’re leading the fools there. But yes, he shouldn’t have the favors on there, either.”

Heppa jokingly suggests disguising Mate as well, and they bat around ideas ranging from cat to crow. Alric’s main concern is that the ribbons on the bird mark it as having a relationship with people. That is an oddity that could be remembered and might help someone recognize the elves at a later point. Tric Manu agrees to do something about it, but his initial attempts to yank Terwaen’s favor from Mate’s beak are met with evasion. Heppa wonders why her cousin does not simply ask the bird to release it; that is what her approach would be. 

Having no luck swiping the ribbon, Tric changes tactics. “I have, good sir, this!” He snatches up a piece of preserved meat still left out from the breakfast buffet, holding it out toward the magpie. “Look! This is nice and tasty.” Mate takes a step toward him along the counter, head cocked to one side. “You’re going to have to open your mouth to get it, though. It’s a choice you have to make.” Mate opens his beak, thereby dropping Terwaen’s favor, and darts forward for the treat. “Terrible bargainer,” Tric mutters, as he unties his own ribbon from Mate’s leg and puts both strips of cloth away. “You’re a free magpie now… for the time being.”

With that, the elves prepare to head out with their cloaks, their disguises, and their plans. Alric wishes them well and again tells them to be careful. “Goodbye, Alric!” Heppa titters from the door, heart racing a bit.