Chapter 77: What Are the Chances!?

The night seemed to freeze around us. I felt frozen, too. The heavy scratch and thud of lurching footfalls approached us. The sound of swords scraping against iron and leather scabbards preceded the pirates' arrival.

Shivai and I backed up slowly, making sure it didn't look like we were trying to run. I was just hoping it would buy us some time.

"Do you have a plan?" I asked.

"Not exactly. I had an idea. That's kind of like a plan, right?"

"What was your idea?"

"I was going to tell them that we're just a couple of townsfolk on a romantic stroll. I was even thinking I might suggest they abandon piracy and go do something else with their lives."

I couldn't help but chuckle. Little did I realize when we first met that Shivai was basically a Jedi master. Her idea was first to say that we weren't the droids they were looking for, and then to tell them they didn't want to sell death sticks—and maybe rethink their lives.

Could it be so easy? Could she simply flash her purple eyes at all ‌the pirates and convince them to leave the town unharmed?

"Of course, it's not like I can convince all the pirates to give up their lives of piracy and leave the town unharmed," Shivai muttered darkly. "I could probably get them to think it was a decent idea ‌for a little while, but I can't really make a lasting impression like that."

I nodded knowingly. "It's more like Suggestion than Geas, then?"

"Huh?"

"Sorry. I knew a wizard once who had a couple of control spells. Suggestion and Geas were two of them."

"Where's that wizard now?"

I hedged. "He killed himself with a fireball."

"Damn. Wish he could give us a hand with these pirates. A fireball would certainly take care of things."

That gave me an idea. I didn't like it, but I had it.

I also didn't like that I had it.

Before, I thought we could convince them to leave us alone for a couple of hours. If Shivai sent them on their way, we could slip back to the Breakwater Inn without them following us. We’d have more time to come up with a better solution.

Yet if we did that, we’d just be kicking the can down the road. Those pirates would still be around, and we’d probably encounter them next in higher numbers. Furthermore, they might know they’d been charmed—I was still fuzzy on how that worked, but it sounded like a risk we wouldn’t want to take.

If we wanted to do something decisive, the time was now. All I needed to do was work up the stomach for it.

"These guys are just trying to question and intimidate us, right? They don't actually think they're in a fight yet, do they?"

Shivai looked at me nervously. I think she could tell where I was taking this. "Right. So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying, maybe you could charm them into letting their guard down. There are a lot of cliffs right around here. Some of them drop off right into the ocean."

"Let's just hope it doesn't come to that," Shivai murmured.

"Oy! You two! Come on, let's get on with it. We need to question everyone. Boss's orders."

Their features became more recognizable as they approached. Indeed, there were two orcs. They both looked different from the first orc I'd met here, but similar enough that I could recognize the basics. Sturdy builds, taller than the average human, small but meaningful tusks jutting out from their lower jaws.

It was too dark to be certain, but I guessed they both had darker, greenish or yellowish-tinged skin.

Honestly, if they weren't menacing pirates holding swords, I'd think they looked pretty badass. As it was, I could only be concerned by how much of a size advantage they appeared to have over me. As a human on the larger side, I wasn't used to craning my neck to look up at people. Yet these guys made NBA players look around average height and made bodybuilders look like they had average musculature.

I waved in what I hoped was a disarming fashion. "Good evening, gentlemen. What does your boss want to question people about?"

"That's for us to know and for you to find out."

That’s… exactly how that works, yeah.

Okay, so they were idiots. Predictable. I could work with that.

"All right then, how about you ask me your questions, and I'll try to figure out what you wanted to ask about from there?"

One of the orcs let out an ugly, bullying laugh. He rubbed his palms together like a tough guy getting ready to pound a nerd into the lockers. He thought he had me right where he wanted me.

Which, kind of, he did.

“First of all, uh. We’re looking for, um.” He looked at the other orc for confirmation that didn’t look like it would come. “A whipjack. And, until he, um. Dis… disem… disembowels?”

The other orc shook his head.

“Disembarks?”

The other orc shook his head again, then shrugged.

“Disembosoms?” I guessed.

The orc snapped his finger. “That’s it! Until this whipjack disembosoms hisself, we’re going to contemplate factions daily!” He paused, frowning, looking again to his companion. “Is that right?”

The other orc growled, clearly unhappy. “I don’t know why you’re trying to speak like that. Fancy talk’s for writin’, not for speakin’.”

As much as I appreciated that their quibbling gave me breathing room before things got real, I also wanted to get this whole thing over with. They were just delaying the inevitable—whatever that was.

I cleared my throat.

The first orc snapped back to attention. "Are you the guy who killed Strider?"

"Nope," I lied.

"Huh. Okay, do you know the guy who killed Strider?"

"Nope again," I lied.

"Shoot. Really thought we had him this time," the first orc muttered.

The other one nudged him in the ribs and leaned in. "We're never gonna find this guy this way. I bet we already talked to him and he just lied to us!"

"Why would anyone do that? Who would be so untrustworthy?"

"A murderer, that's who. Let's see if we can ask him some other questions. Maybe we can find out who this guy is if we investigate on our own."

The first orc gasped. "You mean, go off script? I don't know if the boss would like that."

"Boss would hate it even more if we come back without any information." The second one was making some good points.

I didn't love that. The stupider they were, the better for me.

"Okay," the first one resumed, straightening his stature and trying to take charge once more. "You gotta answer some more questions. We don't know exactly what we're gonna ask you, so don't judge us if the questions seem weird. We're just trying our best out here. Got it?"

"Got it." I saluted. “You got a mean boss?”

“The worst.”

Another cool breeze wafted past us. This one carried some of the briny notes from the sea, and the temperature was noticeably cooler than it had been in several days.

I took a deep breath, invigorating myself. One way or another, change was going to come. I needed to be ready.

Next to my skin, the thin, surprisingly lightweight knife dug its sheath into my forearm. After just a day of walking around with it, I'd already gotten used to how it felt against me. Not that I'd forgotten about it—or that I was comfortable with what it represented—but it had a familiarity now.

Three others lay against me, strapped tight. All had flimsy leather sheaths that made my daggers easy to draw. The blades moved slightly in their confines, which felt dangerous. Yet I was learning to move carefully so that none fell out.

I’d worn them mostly because Shivai insisted I continue training. In no way had I planned to use them.

Except now, with pirates approaching, I wasn't going to rule anything out.

Another wave crashed from below. The cliffs weren't far off. Ten, maybe twenty paces, I estimated.

The two orcs each took a step closer. The one who'd been questioning us looked at me intently. He screwed up his face in concentration, no doubt trying to come up with a great investigative question.

“We’re on the search for a backwater keep! That’s where one of arr mateys died,” the orc said by way of preface. “But we’ve checked high and low. There’s no keep in this backwater, right?”

Shivai and I exchanged nervous glances. “Like, a castle? No,” I said.

The other orc grunted. “Well, that settles a bet. I’ll be five copper richer. Enough to buy a drink.”

“Hah! Maybe we’re supposed to be looking for a barkeep! A backwater barkeep,” laughed the first.

The second orc’s face split into a wicked grin. His yellowed tusks caught a hint of moonlight. "Say, fella. Which place has the best drinks in town?"

Oof. Did they just luck into figuring it out? My first instinct wasn’t to lie. As much as I wanted to throw them off my scent, I also had a reputation to uphold. Professional pride comes before the fall, I guess.

Hubris welled up in my chest, threatening to spill out and blow my cover. Shivai, thanks perhaps to darksight—or to being able to read people well—stepped forward and spoke up.

"The Good Inn has the best drinks, definitely." Shivai smiled sweetly. "If you want a fine ale, that's the spot to go."

The first orc scratched his jaw. "And their barkeep. Do they have any guys working there?"

"Yep. Totally. Tons of guys. So many guys."

Okay, now she was laying it on a bit thick. Yet when the two orcs nodded knowingly at each other, I appreciated her tactic. They weren't exactly sharp, either.

Give them a box of crayons and thirty minutes, and they probably couldn't spell nuance.

"Think we'll find who we're looking for there?"

"Maybe! If you're looking for a barkeep." Shivai’s grin faltered, and she looked uncertain. Maybe she realized she’d just signed The Good Inn up for A Bad Time. She stifled a nervous laugh. “There are a few bars in town, though. Active port, and all that. I swear, it seems like half the town sells alcohol for a living!”

“Half the town?” The first orc looked at us curiously. “Am I mathing this wrong, or does that imply that one of you works at a bar?”

“Actually, logically, if that were true, it would imply that at least one of them works at a bar,” the other interjected.

“Um, how do you figure that?” I asked, hoping he’d logic himself into knots. “By her numbers, there’s a good chance neither of us work at a bar.”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “I play games of chance with scammers in busy ports. I know my odds. If half the people in town work at bars, then given any couple we meet, the following is true: on in four chance that neither of you work at a bar. Two in four that one of you does. One in four that you both do.”

The other orc looked perplexed. Apparently he didn’t play games of chance.

But I could feel the prickling sensation of sweat beading at my brow. Wishing my intelligence modifier were higher, I tried to do some quick mental math to double check his work. Logic puzzles were never my forte, and word problems sometimes gave me fits. I blinked.

“Drew?” Shivai hissed at me, clearly on edge. “Tell him he’s full of shit.”

“No, no, I think he’s right, actually. There’s a seventy-five percent chance that at least one of us works in a bar,” I said, still not feeling confident about my answer. “But what would be the chances that I’m the barkeep at the Breakwater Inn?”

I clapped my hands over my mouth. As soon as I said that, I realized what a colossal mistake I’d made.

Look. It’s not that I’m stupid. I just never got that deep into the roleplaying aspect of our tabletop games. Min-maxing was where I lived. My instinct was to roll for deception, not to actually come up with a plausible lie in game.

And now my weakness as a gamer was coming back to bite me. Well, that and being completely, overwhelmingly, uncomfortably nervous.

And more than a little tipsy, too.

“The Breakwater Inn! I knew backwater weren’t right,” the first orc growled.

“Wait! I’m not the guy who killed Strider! I’m just a Reborn!” What in the fuck was I saying!? “I mean, I’ve never even heard of a cocktail!”

But it was too late. Both of them had already bristled. Their swords, which they'd left hanging loosely by their sides, suddenly flashed in their hands with a deadly shine. Their stances shifted, widening into something more balanced.

It looked like they were ready to attack. Or, failing that, to make a move.

Even with their slow, stable stances, they had the drop on us. In fact, they had every advantage. Size, reach, bigger weapons, way more experience, attacking helpless people in the dark.

Yep. Pretty much the whole deal.

Adrenaline spiked through me, and my heart pounded. One wrong move, and we were toast. The way I saw it, we only had one advantage.

They didn't know they were in a fight yet.

"Wait!" Shivai's eyes flashed purple, and theirs reflected a glittering haze of the same color. "We’ll give you free drinks if you let us go back to the inn to prep them! Promise.”

Okay, make that two advantages. We also had a succubus who could charm the wits out of a pirate.

"Free drinks, huh? Win a bet and keep the money? Okay. Lead the way," the one pirate said. He started to sheathe his sword and stepped aside for us to pass. “Seems like a solid idea, yeah?”

The other one moved more slowly. He blinked several times, shaking his head as though clearing away some fog. He squinted at Shivai. “Wait. Drinking something fancy in a bar? Wasn’t that part of how they got Strider?”

Her nervous gaze shot to me, and she took a fearful step back.

“I think it was,” the first orc said. “Tricked him into drinking, then tricked him into a sword, they said.”

“By some foreigner and a busty sexpot.” The second orc narrowed his eyes in suspicion, inspecting Shivai none too subtly. Lust and simmering fury played at his features, and he advanced on her, rolling his shoulders. "Hey! You're a succubus!"

"Drew! Help!" Shivai took another step back, then directed everything she had at the approaching pirate. “Stop! You want to have a reasonable conversation without swords!”

He growled and blinked away a flash of magenta in his eyes.

I stepped in front of him, trying to head him off. Putting myself in harm’s way might not be my smartest move, but he probably had a hundred-fifty pounds on Shivai. I couldn’t just stand by and watch. She might be fast, but she was obviously scared, and I had to trust her gut feeling.

But his sword was out. I was bare-handed. Whatever advantages we had, we’d lost.

Maybe.

The orc brandished his weapon and snarled, showing off a yellowed tusk. "Move, human! I'm going to teach this mind witch a lesson!"

Obviously, I couldn't let him do that. Things were unraveling quickly. How had he shrugged off her effects so easily? Weren't pirates supposed to be easy to manipulate?

There was only one thing left to try. We needed to test Shivai’s theory about lust and her power.

I grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to me. My hand wrapped around her waist, and my other clasped the back of her head. I brought her face to mine for a short, passionate kiss. Then, just to top things off, I pulled back by the roots of her hair and licked one of her horns.

Weird, sure, but it felt right.

"Mnnoanf!"

Shivai's strange moan seemed out of place next to the growl of the approaching pirate. His partner just watched critically.

"Stop! Halt!" Shivai shouted, eyes glinting a deep, vibrant purple that lit up our attacker with a muted glow. "Hold it right there!"

The oncoming orc grunted and struggled against the commands. His halting steps paused, and his body quivered as though fighting against itself to continue moving.

Whatever charm magic Shivai used, it was powerful, yet as her eyes fluttered to the back of her head and she swayed, I realized it had taken a lot out of her. Her charm couldn't hold him for long, even if I had just juiced her up with a passionate kiss.

My hands moved without my thinking about it. I reached into my sleeve and fumbled for a dagger.