"Sahva, darling? Did you finish taking Josef's measurements?," Sahva's father asked. She was still gripping Josef's hand, her back turned to her father.
"Yes," she said slowly, looking straight into Josef's eyes. "I've discovered everything I need to know."
Josef snatched his hand away from her. She knew something about the tattoo. But what? And could they trust her? She appeared wary, and yet, he couldn't help but feel she wanted to tell him something.
Mercure stepped forward, looking first at Sahva and then at Josef. "You've chosen a most beautiful tunic, Josef. As you've already heard, I will be quite pleased to have you dashing around Gangdrup wearing one of my favourite pieces. Sahva here did help, though. She sewed the seaweed design on the collar and what a wonderful job she did."
Mercure puffed contentedly at his pipe as he admired the tunic's presentation once again. "What do you think, Sahva?" Mercure asked, turning towards his daughter and dropping his glasses. "You should have it ready by no later than noon tomorrow, no?"
Sahva nodded and collected the tunic. She turned and left hastily to the back room. Mercure noticed Josef's trailing eyes.
"Did my daughter say something to you? She's quite the seamstress, but I rarely let her engage customers alone. Her sister is much better in that regard."
"You have nothing to fear," Josef said, feigning an off-handed air. "She was very polite." He said all of this while continuing to stare at the doorway leading to the back room.
Mercure waved his hand, dismissing the matter, and turned towards a table, pulling up a pair of tan pants. "You'll need these, of course."
"And these," said Claudius, waving a pair of black gloves in the air.
Mercure's bounced over to Claudius. "Ah yes, I forgot I even purchased those. Beautiful, beautiful work. Not my own. Bought those from a salesman coming down south here from Brunbath. Layasa Horse Leather, blackest leather you'll find, and it holds its colour. Wrinkles, of course, but only after septujinnys of use."
Claudius reached into his rucksack and produced a handful of silver chunks which Mercure counted and accepted with a perfect bow, his pipesmoke blowing briefly into his own eyes. "Not requested, but much appreciated."
"Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Dulwess," Claudius said bowing in turn. "We will return tomorrow to retrieve the new clothes for this peppy goo-drinker. Until we meet again."
Josef waved and bowed hurriedly to the clothier as Claudius led him out of the shop and back into the lighted darkness of Gangdrup's evening air. Josef managed to catch one last look of Sahva before he left — her face, staring from the back room, impassive yet calculating.
Josef knew it was best to get it over with: "His daughter. She saw my tattoo."
Claudius instantly kneeled down and pressed his webbed hands against his gills. He then gave a tiny little scream before rising to his feat. "What did you do? Did you press the tattoo into her face? Were you trying to show it off? Please explain this to me."
"She had to take my measurements! So I stretched my hands out. Also, you don't even know what it means," Josef added, waving away Claudius's pugnacity.
"Tattoo secretly implanted in young man's skin by old woman. How do you think this story ends, Josef? To think I get you ratified only to have you marked for death the day after."
"Let's not jump to conclusions. There's nothing ominous about the tattoo other than the method by which I received it," said Josef, quite reasonably he believed.
"Well don't wake me up in the middle of the night when your hand starts to burn off," said Claudius, handing Josef the black gloves. "Might as well put these on before you flash anyone else."
Josef slipped them on right away, flexing his hands. The leather was brand new and didn't give at all. They would need to be worked in, but they would serve well enough for now to cover his palm tattoo.
Josef threw out a few mock punches.
Claudius stepped away from Josef and sighed.
But then Josef had an idea: "I think tonight should be a library night for you, Claudius. Don't you think? The quicker you learn about the the finer points of ratification, the quicker we can make our decision regarding you know what."
"Did I just hear circumspection?" Claudius said while smiling and turning to continue on. "I never thought I'd see it. Come along, Josef. Let's go see this library then."
Josef puttered up to Claudius, still flexing his hands and getting a feel for his new gloves. "Glad that tattoo is hidden. She seemed frightened by it."
"She'll probably tell her farther," Claudius whispered. "And then who knows who else. All the while, we'll be in the dark, wondering what's been drilled into your palm."
Lake Ferngloom greeted them once again. Two carriages darted by at unnerving speeds while aggrieved pedestrians yelled stylized curses at the drivers. On the corner to their right, a man slicked mucus from a gujai into a bucket with a slop. Flipped it over, and did the same. Slop. A short woman with cropped blond hair spotted them. She had a blue circle painted on her throat.
"Goo-drinker!" she cried out with delight. "I claim the honour of having your first challenge." Josef started, looking to Claudius for guidance.
"Well this was bound to happen at some point," Claudius said, shrugging and wincing as the women flew closer. She rose up on her heels in front of Josef, twirled her golden shawl, and then pointed at the blue circle smeared on her throat.
"This circle," she said, eyes wide and jubilant, "means I'm a player." She then looked at Claudius, smiled. "Care to officiate, Sea Gwell?"
"If you explain the rules. I can't be bothered," Claudius said and waved the woman on while he started to stretch.
Josef scratched his head. He stared at Claudius. "Why are you stretching? What is this game?"
"Listen, listen," said the woman, dancing on her tippy toes. "The game is simple. It came along with Quiv and all the best sort play."
"Not true," whispered Claudius under his breath.
Josef turned to look at the Sea Gwell but the woman grabbed his chin. "Listen closely goo-drinker. The rules are simple—"
Josef batted her hand away. The woman took a step backwards, but she continued fervently: "The rules are simple. Whoever is named officiant chooses an object for us to compete over. Whoever captures the essence of the designated object through the magic of words, no longer than thirty, wins."
The woman pressed her fingers to her throat. She nodded for Josef to do the same. Josef glanced at Claudius who was still stretching. Josef followed the woman's lead and pressed his fingers to his throat warily.
"Repeat after me," instructed the woman. "Quiva Quivom Quivar."
Josef gave it his best shot. "Quivear Quivoom Quiveer" he repeated, feeling as if he'd gotten the gist of it.
Claudius cracked a hip. "Try that one again, young Josef." Claudius motioned for the woman to repeat the phrase.
"Quiva Quivom Quivar," she said more slowly this time.
"Quiva Quivom Quivar," Josef said as a blue light suddenly flashed. A line of it extended out from each of their throats and then connected together between them in the air.
"What is this? What is this!" Josef said anxiously, his head sashaying this way and that in an attempt to dislodge the blue light from his throat. It was making a humming sound, its blue light almost blindingly bright.
"Breathe, Josef," said Claudius. "It just means you're in a game. I'm going to name the object. Challenger always goes first. Ready?"
Josef steadied his breathing and prodded his forefinger at the blue beam. It went right through it. "I…I guess."
Claudius closed his eyes and then pointed at the pail of gujai mucus. "I choose the mucus-coatings of a gujai. Prepare!"
Josef watched as the woman closed her eyes, her lids fluttering. She smacked her lips together, scrunched her eyes, and then finally jutted a finger in the air.
She spoke swiftly:
Who knows of goo?
The gujai do — luscious coats
Of mucus sloppy slew!
Gross and nasty
Not for the fancy
Only for a select few.
The woman then spun and kicked a leg in the air. Claudius applauded.
"Applaud Josef," said Claudius, "game etiquette."
Josef stared at both of them, eventually relenting and giving three stiff claps.
"And now it's your turn," continued Claudius.
"What?" said Josef, "I thought that was it?"
"You have to concoct a string of words to best hers. I already told you the rules. Come along now. Show her what a goo-drinker can do."
"This is ridiculous," muttered Josef as he closed his eyes. He tried to think of what he could say. She'd already stolen all the decent lines. He rubbed his forehead. Gujai, eye. Mucus, excuses. Coating, loathing. He felt like he was going nowhere.
"Five seconds," stated Claudius. "Please feel rushed. You can't take forever."
Josef cleared his throat:
Coatings of mucus
Nasty stuff
Josef finished and gave a confused shrug. He was done. Claudius and the woman immediately applauded.
Claudius then cleared his throat, spun, and pointed at the woman. "Quivanest! I pronounce you winner of this game." Immediately the blue light condensed into the woman's throat, buzzed briefly, and then flashed into non-existence.
The woman hands extended up to her scalp as she shrieked with joy. She pulled her hands through her blond hair and bounced in a circle. "Goo-drinker, defeated! The reign of Aslanda continues!"
Claudius leaned towards Josef. "Unfortunately that one was a no-brainer," Claudius then gave him a slight pat. "She was a bit of veteran. Probably been prowling the streets all day for a chance to challenge you. A bit more effort and I think you could've taken her though. She was a tad ramshackle with her words."
"What's the point of this?" Josef asked as he continued to watch Aslanda bounce around with unsurpassed glee.
"Many have asked the same question. But then they learn The Game is far more than just appearances. Hence, Aslanda's impassioned gloating."
"Am I damaged in some way from losing?" Josef asked, slightly worried.
"No damage, none at all. But those who've dared to talk about it state there are gifts for the victors. The Game — or simply Quiv to its fanatics — remembers who plays and who wins and whom you win against. Then it rewards."
"What kind of gifts are we talking about? Chunks?"
"Only the strangest. I beat a man from Yuki Yam once after walking home from a night on the town. Turned out he was what one might call an aficionado. Immediately I received a perpetual scalp massage. It lasted the entire week until I finally blabbered about it and it vanished."
"A scalp massage? I don't understand."
"No one does," replied Claudius. "Or at least those who understand tend not to speak about it. As I said, one book was written, The Kingdom of the The Game. In it, the author detailed a few of the game's workings and rewards. The author claims to have been randomly granted the power to see through walls. Upon publication, those were immediately lost, of course."
A smile crept over Josef's face. He watched as Aslanda danced triumphantly down the street. "I think I'm starting to understand. It sounds like this game just might be worth playing."
"Just don't become like Aslanda over there and you'll be alright. Some people go deep, really deep."
Claudius then told Josef the library was near the apothecary shop he'd visited previously. They continued to travel along the main promenade carving along the right-hand side of Lake Ferngloom. More carts sped by them as sewerfolk children tossed a small ball against the side of a barber's shop. They all laughed as one of their friends was struck in the face by the ricocheting ball. Josef could see their blue-glowing teeth as they all buckled over in laughter and wondered if his own had tilted in the same direction.
But as they waded through Gangdrup's crowds, a sense of deserved ease came over him. He was alive — nothing was set in stone. He had so much to learn, and despite the strange tattoo on his palm, and Mal's commandment to steal the Rose Cloak, he still felt free — not unencumbered, but free.
"So can anyone play The Game, or Quiv as they call it, at any point?"
"At any point. Correct," Claudius replied. "You can purchase what's called a fancy stick and use it to locate the closest player who also possesses one. You toss the fancy stick in the air and say 'Quiv' as it falls. Wherever it points is the direction you have to head in to find the next Quiv player."
Josef rubbed his palms together. Fancy stick. "And where might one locate one of these fancy sticks?"
Claudius stopped walking and stared at his goo-drinker. "I suspect a minor addiction is forming as we speak. Am I correct?"
"A 'slight interest' seems to me the more appropriate term at this point," Josef said as he prepared himself for another lecture from the Sea Gwell.
Claudius stared at his goo-drinker, and then continued to stare, until sighing. "I guess you're allowed to have your inclinations. But please, don't ask me to officiate every game. Quiv, while doling out benefits, curses any officiant who falsely appoints a winner."
And then Claudius pointed. "Speaking of winning, here we are."
Pushing its rugged stone walls out into the promenade was the Gangdrup Library. Moss covered almost every square inch of the entire five-storey building. It was even taller than The Backwards Flow. There were no windows, but nestled within the moss were different flowers, one type for each level: blue on the lowest, then a pale red, a bright yellow, teal, and finally a deep, almost black, purple. The flowers were so tiny, most no bigger than the size of nail of his smallest finger.
"Welcome to the place where you learn stuff," Claudius said, placing his webbed hands on his hips, his gills flapping smoothly. "Is your brain ready for this, Josef?"
"Yes," Josef said decisively. "I'm going to learn everything."
Claudius laughed, but Josef strode forward through the library doors. Claudius laughed again, more nervously this time. He called after him, "You're joking right?"
But Josef was already too busy inhaling the musty glory of Gangdrup's collected knowledge.