Free Tinder Stricken by Heidi C. Vlach Page A

payment.”
    “Wh-What?”
    Heart in her throat, Esha's plans all flew
away on wind. She had hoped to suggest the thief phoenix as a form
of reward, but that was no collateral. She couldn't offer her
heirloom khukuri for the same reason, and her meagre trove of
rupees was across town in her home. She had only one thing to offer
right now — and under Birdnose's silent glower, Esha reached into
her clothing.
    “I don't know if this is enough for a first
offer,” she relented, “or too much. But it's all I can show to your
eyes.” Uncurling her hand, she revealed Gita Of The Fields's last
remnant, her property token and the shining nameplate attached.
    Birdnose's eyes flared within their deep
sockets. “You're offering the property token?”
    “That's right.”
    Birdnose took it — with a soft hand, no
laborour's hand to be sure. She drew a knife with a tooth-shaped
blade and pushed its tip against Gita's property token. The token
didn't yield.
    “Good,” she said, “No offence meant, but
I've been offered silvered wax before.”
    “I wouldn't insult you before asking for
your help.”
    Birdnose considered her. Esha held the gaze
like the honourable woman she wished she was.
    “Please,” Birdnose said, “come in.”
    She led Esha around the back of the house,
into a door only discernible from the wall by its knotted latch
string. Inside, the respectable brick home looked more like the
elder relatives of Esha's shack — with walls made of unfinished
bamboo and hand-splinted furniture, lit acrid by a pine candle. The
hearth fire smouldered into a tin chimney, one of three openings in
the ceiling.
    The phoenix was there, perched on a wrought
metal stand seemingly meant for it. Esha felt more eyes on her —
and noticed another phoenix sitting in the corner, the one with a
missing foot. She had never heard of an animist who kept multiple
phoenixes but then, some people liked to stockpile.
    Esha returned her attention to Birdnose, to
find that she was being studied, too. By a Manyori woman dressed in
porridge-plain homespun but still clearly kin to the masked woman
Esha had stared at earlier. She was bigger than most Grewian men,
the same broad frame as the animist, and the dark spot on her chin
was the very same black-line tattoo that the animist had. Maybe a
family's defining mark.
    “Please, sit.” Birdnose gestured to a
rough-felted stool.
    Esha was bristlingly aware of her body, of
her presence in this den of secrets. She lowered herself on panging
knees, and she sat.
    Birdnose eyed Esha then, and placed Gita's
nameplate on a table between them. “About this deal you want — we
may speak freely now. The walls are double-thick to hold in our
voices, and one of my birds is keeping watch outside.”
    “One of your birds?” Esha said. She
had never heard of a tar dealer keeping pets who could start
fires.
    “The fellow you spoke to already.” Smirking
fond, Birdnose said, “He's trustworthy. Take that on my word.”
    Phoenixes were as trustworthy as gamblers,
bandits, and next month's weather. Esha stifled her frown.
    “And since you seem trustworthy as well,”
Birdnose went on, “I'll trade for your property token. You must
want quite a supply.”
    “Not a supply — only one task.”
    Birdnose was picking up a lockbox, a small
one overwhelmed with steel bands and latches, when she froze and
stared stark at Esha. “A task ...? Wait. Say it clearly. Are
you here for tar?”
    Esha knew now why she felt a warning in her
bones. “Gladtar? No!” She never turned down an offered pipe full of
gladtar — but to trade a property token for drugs would be madness.
“I need someone who— There's a phoenix, I don't know what to
do!”
    “ Animism service.”
    “Yes!”
    Birdnose aimed her spearpoint stare at
Esha's caste sigil. “For your farm? Who sent you?”
    “No one sent me. I have a bargain to offer
from my own pockets.”
    She lifted a hand and pulled a cord Esha
hadn't noticed hanging against the