Everyone stared at Adom.
"Oh," said Cisco. "A mage."
A panting man stumbled through the broken door, clutching the doorframe for support. His face looked like someone had used it to test several varieties of hammers. One eye was swollen completely shut, the other barely a slit, and his nose pointed in at least two different directions.
"Boss!" he wheezed between broken teeth. "We need to- you have to- that crazy barbaria-"
"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU CALL ME?!" Thormund roared from his frozen position, veins bulging impressively against his immobile neck.
"Oh shit- I mean- I'll get- REINFORCEMENTS!" The man spun around, wobbling. "FROM THE MAIN BASE! DON'T DIE BOSS! I'LL BE RIGHT-"
There was a solid, meaty thunk, followed by the drawn-out screech of a body sliding down something.
"Third time this month someone's run into that statue," Marco noted, adjusting his glasses. "Perhaps we should move it."
"RELEASE ME, MAGE!" Thormund's muscles bulged against invisible restraints. His fluid began pouring out like steam from a kettle, making Adom's temples throb with the effort of maintaining [Control].
Just as the pressure was becoming unbearable, a thin beam of light shot from the tiny ring on Cisco's even tinier paw. Thormund's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed like a felled tree.
"He'll need a few hours of sleep and some... proper education later," Cisco said, adjusting his miniature spectacles. He turned to Adom. "Now then. Mage. You might have mentioned that during our negotiations."
"You didn't ask," Adom replied mildly, massaging his temples. "Besides, your prices are quite steep enough without adding a mage surcharge."
A muscle in Marcus' jaw twitched, but Cisco's whiskers quivered in what might have been amusement.
"Fair enough," the tiny broker conceded. He glanced at Thormund's unconscious form. "I didn't expect you to step up and try to save my life - though I assure you, it wasn't necessary. Still..." He straightened his tiny cravat. "Let's consider this particular detail forgotten. No surcharge for being a mage."
"Mages have a higher risk assessment," Marco interjected, still tense. "Most are Empire officials. We need to ensure you're not a spy."
"Are you a spy, Law?" Cisco asked.
"Not at all," Adom replied.
"There. Not a spy. Relax, Marco. Given his youth, he's likely just a student from Xerkes. Probably not tied to the Empire. Yet." Cisco waved his tiny paw dismissively.
Adom didn't object. There was no point.
"So." He straightened, ready to leave. "One month it is, then."
"I wouldn't go that way if I were you, Law." Cisco said while getting off his chair.
"And why not?"
Instead of answering, Cisco glanced at Thormund's unconscious form. "This idiot probably had a tail when he came charging in here. Only the children are supposed to know this location, and yet..." He gestured toward the window with one tiny paw. "Would you mind taking a look?"
Adom moved to the window, pushing aside the dusty curtain. Black smoke rose in thin spirals from three different rooftops, forming distinct patterns against the afternoon sky.
"The children's signal," Cisco explained, already sorting papers into his miniature briefcase. "We have company coming. Several groups, by the look of it."
"Charming," Adom said dryly, watching another smoke signal join the others. "Just what I needed today."
"Marco, give our esteemed client a cloak." Cisco began tucking various tiny scrolls into his sleeve.
Marco pulled a dark gray cloak from his briefcase - which seemed far too small to have held it - and handed it to Adom.
"I appreciate the concern," Adom said, taking the cloak with mild confusion, "but I have nothing to do with... whatever this is. They don't even know my face."
"I'm afraid that's not quite accurate," Marco said, adjusting his glasses. "The situation is rather more complex. The smoke patterns indicate both criminal elements and law enforcement presence. Standard protocol in such situations dictates that all parties exiting these premises will be considered persons of interest."
"Furthermore," Marco continued, "having to explain your presence here would be problematic. As you now have certain... financial obligations to our organization, we'd prefer to avoid any complications that might interfere with those arrangements."
Already in debt, Adom thought. The ink isn't even dry on the contract.
Wait, there was no ink. Come to think of it, was there even a contract?
"Unless, of course," Marco added, raising an eyebrow, "you have some method of bypassing the police's stealth magic detectors? Or perhaps a convincing explanation for your presence in this particular establishment?"
Cisco and Marco both looked at him expectantly.
"Right," Adom said, pulling the cloak around his shoulders. "Let's go then, shall we?"
"Marco, if you would?" Cisco adjusted his top hat.
"Yes, sir." Marco cupped his hands with care, and Cisco stepped into them with the dignity of a king mounting his carriage. With delicate precision, Marco settled him into a padded breast pocket. The tiny broker straightened his miniature coat tails and smoothed his whiskers.
He was cute. Cute and dangerous. Quite a strange combo.
"On your feet, you lot! Scatter-Eight!" Cisco's sharp command cut through the room. The 'unconscious' men snapped to attention. "Heinrich, eastern route! Johan, collect the ledgers and clear all evidence from the back room. Art, you and Wilhelm take the basement path."
"Lars, help Art with those blood stains," Johan called out, already moving between hidden compartments. "Pattern Three cleanup."
"On it!" Lars pulled an enchanted cloth from his sleeve, the fabric shimmering as it dissolved traces of the earlier fight.
The man by the statue groaned, finally stirring. Marco paused to deliver a sharp kick. "Up. West route. And do try to avoid our décor this time."
"Lars, what's the status on those blood stains?" Johan called out while organizing documents.
"That was ONE time I missed a spot-" Lars muttered, working his enchanted cloth over the floor.
"Three times this month!" several voices corrected in unison, not pausing in their tasks.
"Thormund comes with us," Cisco ordered. Marco hoisted the massive barbarian with surprising ease. He was stronger than he looked.
The room erupted into coordinated chaos. Bodies moved with practiced efficiency, like actors in a well-rehearsed play. Someone triggered a mechanism, and furniture began sinking into the floor. Hidden panels slid open, carpet rolled itself away, and even the air seemed to clear of any magical residue.
"West side's clear!"
"Basement route secured!"
"All traces removed, sir!"
Adom found himself being hustled through a passage that had definitely been a solid wall moments ago, watching in fascination as an entire operation disappeared like morning mist.
Behind them, the last traces of their presence vanished under a web of precisely executed protocols and spells. No wonder the Empire had never managed to pin anything on these organizations.
They descended through a series of hidden passages, each turn revealing new tunnels that shouldn't logically exist beneath the city. Marco led the way, still carrying Thormund's bulk with surprising ease, while the others moved in practiced formation around them.
Their footsteps echoed in perfect rhythm, like a well-rehearsed orchestra of escape artists.