Chapter 31: Chapter 31: Madam Snowstroke

When Nom leaned away from Nay’s forehead, it was like pulling the plug on the Mind Meld connection.

There was the chaotic blur again as if Nay was being ripped out of one world and teleported into another. When she blinked she was suddenly back in the present, seeing the world with her own eyes again.

She gasped and had to sit down, shaken by the entire experience. Her arms and legs felt weak and she was dizzy. It was akin to the feeling of having low blood pressure. She bent over, taking deep breaths as she got used to her own point-of-view and body again.

“Before you say anything,” Nom said, “I don’t regret poisoning him. He helped pulverize your hand and was probably planning on kill you. But also, you called me a pervert. To which I say, it takes one to know one!”

Nay waited a moment so that when she spoke, she would be calm.

“Okay, first off,” Nay said, “when were you going to tell me that you know how to make poisons?”

“I don’t know,” Nom said. “It just happened after we ate the Marrow of the Steksis. You got abilities and spells to because of it, too!”

“Yeah, but I never got a poison option. How come you got that and I didn’t?”

“I don’t know. How come you can see magical text and prompts and maps and I can’t? We’re two different beings with different skills. The Delicacies and Marrows probably react differently to each person’s vigor.”

It wasn’t a bad thought. For all she knew, his guess was as good as any.

“Also, you killed Krill!” Nay said. “Without telling me first! This really messed up our plans. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that someone should do something about him. He hurt you, he hurt that girl. It just seemed like the right thing to do.”

“Quincy had it all worked out. We just had to be patient. Now…now it’s screwed up.”

“No one told me,” Nom said. “Maybe if I had known about these plans, I wouldn’t have killed him. But come on, I know you wanted him dead, too.”

Nay got up and started pacing.

“There will be fallout because of this when Wint and Mishell discover that he’s dead,” Nay said. “We’ll have to expect the worst.”

“They will probably blame the poor stitchgal at the brothel,” Nom said. “Maybe I should have thought twice about poisoning him. I don’t want her to get punished.”

“You’re right,” Nay said. “Wint will come after the House of Sacharine Delights and the stitchgals there. I guess the question for us is, do we intervene? I personally don’t feel comfortable for letting them deal with the blowback of your actions.”

“If I’m honest with myself,” Nom said, “I don’t either.” He sighed. “I knew I did something bad. Even though it feels so right!”

“So they’re probably in the process of telling the Bouldershields, reporting his death. If they’re doing that, then the clock is ticking on when Wint finds out his son is dead.”

Nay started putting on her cloak.

“Where are you going?” Nom said.

“To go see what’s going on at the House of Saccharine Delights.”

/////////

Nay made her way through the cobblestone streets as the sun was starting to appear through the gray clouds. She felt renewed from Nom’s magical smoothie and she walked with an extra bounce in her stop, her pace almost at a jog.

The brothel sat on the street, the house of ill-repute overlooking the intersection and towering over the buildings around it. Like Quincy’s Lodge, it was three stories with a wrap-around porch. The windows on the second and third stories were covered with red curtains. Baroque iron-work decorated the rails, and the lattices framing the windows were flamboyant, all meant to draw the eye.

There was a tall human woman on the porch smoking a cigarillo via a glass cigarette holder. She wore white gloves on her hands, her torso wrapped in a burlesque corset. Her red hair fell onto her shoulders in ringlets. Her skin was alabaster pale and there was a wry smile on her candyapple red lips. There was no mistake who this was.

It was Madam Snowstroke.

There was no sense of urgency or worry about her. And there seemed to be no commotion about the bordello. If Nay didn’t know any better, it would seem like nothing of note had happened here at all lately.

“You’re Quincy’s new cook aren’t you?” Madam Snowstroke said, leaning on the railing, the cigarillo dangling off her cigarette holder in her hand.

Nay crossed the street and walked up the stairs onto the porch. “That’s me. How do you know?”

“Your cooking is a nightly topic of conversation in my establishment,” Madam Snowstroke said. “There’s not any way I could convince you to come run my kitchen, is there?”

Nay was taken aback by her offer. It seemed like a plush gig, probably akin to being a private chef. “It’s tempting, but…”

“Your loyalties lie with Quincy.”

Nay nodded.

“I understand,” the madam said. “That makes me respect you more. I like a loyal girl. I’ll have to give Quincy a visit sometime so I can try this food everyone has been raving about. I’m familiar with Reith cousine, and I must admit, I do miss it.”

Nay stiffened at that. Here was a person in Lucerna’s End who had actually been to Reith. So she was acquainted with the land, its people, its customs. She would have to be careful around her lest she be discovered to be an imposter.

“I’m just so busy around here I rarely get to leave for extended periods of time,” Madam Snowstroke said.

“Maybe I’ll have a meal delivered to you,” Nay said.

“Now, that would be delightful,” Madam Snowstroke said. “Maybe you can make those buns…what are they called…they’re fluffy white buns with this filling…”

Nay couldn’t tell if she was really searching for the words or if this was a way of seeing if Nay was really from Reith.

“Pork,” Nay said, daring to bluff and take a guess. But she said it with a confidence that covered her uncertainty. “Pork and scallions.”

“Is that what it is?” the brothel owner said. But her eyes lit up and she turned. “You know, I think you’re right! I’m remembering the taste now! Of course it was pork. What were those called again?”

Nay could feel Madam Snowstroke’s gaze. She was looking at her, unblinking. It was unsettling.

“Most people will call those bao,” Nay said, bluffing again. “Steamed pork buns. Though you can use different meat for the fillings. Some people like lamb.”

Madam Snowstroke ashed her cigarette and then smiled. She looked away from Nay.

“Bao,” she said. “That’s right. How could I forget?”

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“I can make you those. Easy.”

“You know, I have a feeling me and you are going to be good friends.”

Nay wasn’t sure what information the madam had just extracted from her, but she did suddenly feel at ease. For some reason, she had the impression that even if she knew Nay was lying, she wasn’t going to rat her out.

“Are you always up this early?” Nay said. “I always figured brothel owners were late risers because of all the late nights.”

“Didn’t you know?” she said. “A Madam never sleeps. A brothel is practically a rotating door all hours of the day and night. There’s rarely a moment where my girls let me rest.”

“Sounds bad on the beauty sleep but good on the pockets,” Nay said. “A busy business is never a bad thing.”

“No, it’s not. I like it this way.” She took a drag of her cigarette and watched the morning townsfolk go about their business. “What brings you to this side of town this morning?”

“I was on my way to the sheriff’s,” Nay said.

Madae Snowstroke looked at her with concern. “I hope it’s not because you’ve been the victim of a crime.”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Nay said. “Rolf had helped me with an incident a few weeks ago and I wanted to stop by and thank him.” She produced a growler of Icemarrow Ale from inside her cloak. “He’s a fan of Quincy’s ale.”

“I had heard you had a run-in with that cretin of a fishmonger,” the madam said. “I understand he was quite uncouth towards you.”

“I guess that story got around, huh?” Nay said.

“Not much happens in this town without me knowing,” the madam said. “That’s part of running a brothel. People that come see my girls, they talk a lot. They’re like my little birds who hear everything. And they tell me everything.”

“So you must know the fishmonger has it out for Quincy because he thinks we’re stealing his business,” Nay said.

“You don’t have to have the ears of whores to know that,” she said. “Everyone knows. Of course he blames you all. You’re offering people a better product, a better experience.”

“So, should I be worried about him?” Nay said. “I’m not going to stop cooking good food just because a rival tavern owner doesn’t like it.”

Madam Snowstroke smiled. “I have a feeling the fishmonger will be preoccupied in the near future with some bad business decisions he’s made. The Two-Headed Trout will be the least of his worries.”

That’s when Nay understood.

There wasn’t a commotion here this morning because the House of Sacharine Delights hadn’t alerted the sheriff when Krill died in their establishment.

Madam Snowstroke had it taken care of. She had hid all evidence of his body and was covering up his death.

Wint would be preoccupied with the disappearance of his son.

/////////

When the second child was taken, Nay was spooning garlic-infused butter onto a piece of filet mignon cooking in an iron pan when she got the alert.

---

[Tongue of the Hierophant Delicacy Trait]

[Detect Marrow]

[Status: In Use]

---

Nay kept bathing the meat, which was offered as Nay & Nom’s Primecut Steak on tonight’s menu, as she accessed her mini-map. There was the blinking green dot that signified the Marrow in the northeast part of town.

It blipped, streaking out of range and was gone.

She looked up and saw Nom looking towards the northeast, then he looked at her. His Cyclopean eye wider than usual.

“You saw it, too?” Nay said.

“There’s a Marrow in Lucerna’s End,” Nom said. “What do we do?”

They were in the middle of dinner service. They couldn’t ditch their job and leave Quincy high and dry to go and investigate. It would be too much for Gracie to run if both of them left. It was a packed house and either Nay or Nom had to be there for things to run smoothly.

“You go,” Nay said. “I’ll handle the apps.”

“You sure? You’re having to babysit steaks.”

“Please, I can run a grill station and a fry station at the same time. Ask me about the time I had to run both sauté and pantry one night when a bunch of people quit in the middle of a shift. I was so far in the weeds I needed a machete to hack my way out.”

“Okay,” Nom said. “What should I do if I find it? Should I try and retrieve it?”

“No,” Nay said. “The last Marrow was attached to a monster. It’s not worth the risk.”

He tilted his head. “It’s a Marrow. It’s definitely worth the risk.”

Nay knew he wasn’t wrong. Still, she didn’t want him putting himself in danger. Sous chefs could do stupid shit from time to time, but getting killed trying to go after a Marrow by one’s self would be on a different level. Especially when it was avoidable.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t be smart about it,” Nay said. “The most important thing is to stay out of danger. The second most important thing is not to be seen. Just get some intel and scope it out and then come back. And then we’ll figure out what to do.”

“But what if we can’t find it again?”

“Them’s the breaks. I’d rather lose a Marrow than my sous chef.”

Nom nodded, handed her the fry ladle and headed for the exit.

“Wait,” Nay said. She tossed him Strength and Dexterity-imbued biscuits she had made and stored in the pantry. “Stack these.”

He caught them in his protuberances and began stuffing them into his mouth as he disappeared out the door.

Nay set to the task of running the stations, but she kept her mini-map open, in case the green dot appeared again.

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