Chapter 37 - Cira
Cira pulled her hood tighter around her head as they moved through the crowded streets of Elohan's district. The air was thick with the mingled scents of roasted meat, spiced wine, and burning incense. Laughter and music spilled from open windows, blending with the hum of conversations and the occasional shout from street vendors hawking their wares. The district was alive, its energy a stark contrast to the oppressive silence of the wastelands she had left behind.
Evran led the way, his steps confident, his posture casual. He navigated the narrow streets with the ease of someone who had walked them a hundred times before, his eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of trouble. Orlan trailed behind, his heavy boots crunching against the cobblestones. He kept one hand near the hilt of his blade, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow.
Bran's voice crackled over the comm in Cira's ear, his tone sharp and focused. «All clear so far, but keep moving. You're exposed out there.»
Cira muttered a quiet acknowledgment, her gaze sweeping over the lively market. The district was a mix of beauty and tension, with its vibrant colors and ornate architecture masking the rigid control Elohan held over her domain. The sight of armed guards stationed at every major corner was a constant reminder of the power they defied.
«Where exactly is this friend of yours?» Cira asked Evran, her voice low.
He glanced back at her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. «Patience, Cira. We're almost there.»
«I'd feel better if you didn't sound so smug about it,» Orlan grumbled, his deep voice carrying over the din of the crowd.
Evran ignored him, weaving through a side street that led to a dimly lit alley. The noise from the main road faded, replaced by the distant echo of laughter and the faint strumming of a lute. A weathered sign creaked above a narrow doorway, the painted letters spelling out The Hollow Flask.
Evran gestured to the door. «Here we are.»
Cira exchanged a glance with Orlan before following Evran inside. The air was warmer, carrying the scent of strong alcohol and something sweet and smoky. The bar was small but bustling, its patrons a mix of locals and travelers. Low-hanging lanterns cast a golden glow over the room, illuminating the faces of people engaged in quiet conversation or laughing over their drinks.
Evran moved to the bar, leaning over to speak with the barkeep—a wiry man with a thick mustache and sharp eyes. After a brief exchange, the man nodded and gestured toward a door at the back of the room.
«Come on,» Evran said, jerking his head toward the door.
Cira hesitated, scanning the room one last time. Something about the place put her on edge, but she pushed the feeling aside and followed Evran through the door, with Orlan close behind.
The back room was quieter, dimly lit by a single hanging lamp. Seated at a table was a woman with sharp features and piercing green eyes. Her hair was pulled into a loose braid, and she wore a jacket patched with mismatched fabric. She looked up as they entered, a slow smile spreading across her face.
Behind her stood a towering woman with a presence that made Cira pause. She was clad in segmented armor that shimmered faintly as she moved, and two axes hung at her hips, their blades deadly sharp. A sleek rifle rested on her back, completing the image of a soldier prepared for anything.
«Evran,» she said, her voice smooth. «You always bring the most interesting company.»
Evran grinned as he dropped into a chair across from her. «You know me, Lena. I like to make an impression.» He tilted his head toward the towering figure. «And I see you've got a new pet.»
The woman behind Lena, Selka, stepped forward slightly, her expression unreadable as her blue eyes flicked over the group. She said nothing, but her sheer presence was enough to set Cira on edge.
«That's Selka,» Lena said casually. «She's here to make sure no one gets any funny ideas. I don't think I need to tell you how good she is at her job.»
Cira kept her expression neutral, though she couldn't help but feel the tension in her shoulders. Selka's gaze lingered for a moment before she stepped back into the shadows.
«And who are your friends?» Lena asked, her smile widening as her attention shifted to Cira and Orlan.
Cira stepped forward, her expression guarded. «We're here for resources, not introductions.»
Lens raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. «Straight to the point. I like her.» Her eyes flicked to Evran. «What exactly do you need?»
Evran's grin faded slightly, his tone turning serious. «Weapons, tech, and safe passage out of here when we're done.»
Lena tapped her fingers against the table, considering. «That's a tall order, especially in Elohan's district. What's in it for me?»
Cira crossed her arms, her patience wearing thin. «What do you want?»
Lena's smile returned, sharp and calculating. «Let's just say I have a few favors I need handled. You help me, I help you. Simple as that.»
Bran's voice crackled in Cira's ear again. «Careful, Cira. She's playing you. Don't agree to anything without knowing the details.»
Cira's jaw tightened as she stared at Lena. «What kind of favors?»
Cira's gaze didn't waver as Lena leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. The dim light caught the glint of a chain around Lena's neck, and her calculating smile sent a shiver up Cira's spine.
«You've got guts,» Lena said, her green eyes sharp as a dagger. «I like that. But guts only get you so far. What I need is reliability.»
Cira tightened her arms across her chest. «We didn't come here to barter over vague promises.»
«Relax,» Lena said, waving a hand as if to brush aside the tension. «I'm not asking you to move mountains. Just… resolve a little inconvenience for me.»
Selka stepped forward slightly, the movement subtle but commanding. Her axes gleamed in the low light, their edges sharp enough to make Cira's stomach churn. Selka's gaze swept the group again, lingering on Cira with a predatory glint.
«The kind of inconvenience that requires someone not tied to your name, I take it?» Orlan asked, his voice gruff.
Lena's smile widened. «Exactly. There's a shipment—a very important one—that's been intercepted by some unsavory types. I need it retrieved.»
Cira frowned. «And who are these 'unsavory types'?»
Lena's expression soured slightly. «A rival. Nothing you need to concern yourself with beyond getting the job done. The shipment is critical, and I need it back yesterday.»
Evran leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. «What's in the shipment?»
«Weapons,» Lena said bluntly. «High-grade, expensive, and capable of leveling a block if used correctly. Which is why I'd rather not let them fall into the wrong hands.»
Cira exchanged a glance with Orlan. Bran's voice crackled in her ear again. «Don't let her rope you in too deep, Cira. This smells like a setup.»
«We do this,» Cira said, her voice cutting through the tension, «and you'll give us what we need? No strings attached?»
Lena spread her hands, her smile disarming. «You have my word.»
Cira's eyes narrowed. «Your word doesn't mean much if you're lying.»
Selka stepped forward again, her voice low and deliberate. «Lena's word is good. If she says she'll deliver, she will. But if you cross her…» Selka's fingers brushed the hilt of one of her axes, the threat unspoken but clear.
Lena raised a hand, signaling Selka to back down. «Let's not get ahead of ourselves. You do this for me, and I'll owe you one. That's not something I offer lightly.»
Evran leaned back, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. «Looks like we've got ourselves a deal.»
Cira hesitated for a moment before nodding. «Fine. But if this goes south, it's on you.»
Lena's smile returned, sharp and triumphant. «I knew I liked you.» She reached into her jacket and pulled out a small datapad, sliding it across the table. «The coordinates are on here. Don't waste time. The longer those weapons are out there, the more dangerous it gets.»
Cira picked up the datapad, her mind already racing through possible scenarios. Orlan gave Lena a long, hard look before following Cira and Evran out of the room.
As the door closed behind them, Bran's voice came through the comm. «I don't like this, Cira. This Lena woman's playing a dangerous game.»
«I know,» Cira muttered under her breath, glancing at Evran. «But if we're going to survive this, we don't have much of a choice.»