Merchant Crab

The hours passed and night came, the paper bag from Margo’s Baking Boutique long since empty on the counter as Balthazar sat back against it with a satisfied expression.

“Oh, if I could wear a belt, I’d be unbuckling it right now,” he said, tapping a claw on his belly.

Suze groaned as she emerged from behind the counter separating the living room and the kitchen.

“Ow, my tummy hurts,” she said with a pained expression.

“That’s because you ate too much sugar,” Olivia chided from her chair by the window.

“No such thing!” the little girl leaning on the counter and the crab sprawled belly-up on the floor said in unison.

The niece of the baroness rolled her eyes and went back to checking the outside as the other two grinned and pointed fingers and pincers at one another in approval.

“Alright, the sun has gone down and the streets look quiet enough,” Olivia said as she stood up. “Time to get moving.”

“You’re asking way too much of me right now,” the merchant said, trying to roll back onto his feet.

“Come on, you old lobster. I’ll help you,” said Suze, walking around the counter and pushing Balthazar’s shell from the side.

“Oof, watch the joints, kid!” the crustacean said. “And I’ve told you, I’m not a lobster!”

“I’ll leave first, discreetly,” said Olivia. “I’ll do my best to slip by unnoticed and reach Captain Leander. You guys wait for me to be gone and then leave too. If we don’t bump into each other again at some point, we will meet again here at the end of the night. Got it?”

“Think so,” the stuffed crab said, struggling to stand up.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Olivia!” the little girl next to the crab said, standing very straight and giving her a mocking salute. “I’ll get Balthazar to his destination and make sure we stay out of trouble.”

After cracking the door open just enough to peek outside, the young woman pulled it back with a quick gesture and slipped out, closing it behind her as she quietly left.

Balthazar squinted his eyes at one of the slits of the window shutters, watching the girl cross the empty street and disappear into an alley.

“Alright, she’s gone,” he said, turning around. “Druma, Blue! Wake up you sleepyheads. It’s time to leave.”

The two companions, who had fallen asleep leaning against each other next to the empty fireplace, bolted awake with a start at the crab’s words.

“Woo-hoo! Time to get into some trouble!” Suze exclaimed, stretching her arms up in excitement.

With a frown, Balthazar asked, “Didn’t you just tell her we would stay out of trouble?”

As usual, the Marquessian rascal simply shrugged without a care. “Yeah, but she’s gone now, so we can have some fun.”

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The peculiar quartet exited through the backdoor, sneaking their way to a narrow passage heading south as the moon bathed the streets with its pale glow. The poorer parts of town seemed to have fewer lamps and braziers to illuminate them at night than the richer and busier commercial districts, which would work in their favor for staying out of sight.

“You’re sure you know how to get us to this tavern?” Balthazar asked the girl as the group moved in single file behind her through the space between two buildings.

“Of course I do,” Suze whispered back. “Everyone knows The Rat’s Tail in the south side of town. It’s the hangout spot of every thief in Marquessa.”

Trying to set aside his concerns over why a little girl would be so familiar with such a place, Balthazar focused on the more pressing matter.

“Aren’t we at risk of running into some of Onion Jake’s men in a place like that?”

“Nah,” she replied as they crossed a wide cobblestone road into another alley. “Bandits and thieves don’t usually mix.”

The crab frowned with confusion. “What?! Aren’t they all the same thing?”

“Shhh!” she suddenly said, crouching down behind a large wooden barrel. “Guards ahead.”

The crab ducked behind her and his two companions did the same behind him.

Up ahead, two men in uniform patrolled down a sidewalk, lanterns in hand, looking around at the quiet street as they went.

“They’re still looking for me,” the eight-legged merchant whispered.

“Alright, they’ve turned the corner,” said Suze. “Let’s bolt it!”

After a few more twists, turns, and with some close calls due to patrolling guards, the group exited another alley onto a different neighborhood. The street was narrower and somewhat crooked in its build, the houses far less aligned with each other as the other parts of the city Balthazar had seen so far. Loose cobblestones dotted the path ahead, with potholes and trip hazards all over the place.

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Looking up, the crab could see a chaotic web of clotheslines crossing from every direction between windows and buildings, old, washed-out sheets and other pieces of simple clothing hanging from them and blowing in the chilly wind of the night.

The lights on the street were even fewer and further apart from each other than in the neighborhood they had come from. Mainly torches placed on the walls next to the door of some tiny establishment or another, under the hanging signs that simply said things such as “inn,” “butcher,” or “smith” on them, without even a name given to the shop.

Relaxing her shoulders and standing up straight, Suze started walking more casually up the street, no longer worried about sticking closer to the wall and the shadows.

“What are you doing?!” the merchant whispered from behind a cart full of hay. “Someone might see us!”

“Don’t worry,” she responded in a normal tone of voice. “This is the south district. The slums of Marquessa. Guards barely ever come here and nobody who lives in this place is going to rat on anyone.”

“Oh…” Balthazar said, slowly standing up and stepping onto the middle of the street along with his companions.

“Come on,” the street urchin said. “The tavern is this way.”

They continued on through the poorly lit street as the crab took in the stark differences between the front part of that city, with its well-maintained gardens, clean streets, and exuberant establishments, and the shadier ghetto of the lower districts.

“I like your dragon,” Suze said as they walked. “She’s pretty.”

“Hmm?” said Balthazar, pulling his eyes away from a small group of rats scurrying away into a sewer grate. “Oh, you mean Blue? She’s not a dragon, she’s a drake.”

The young girl cocked an eyebrow at the winged creature walking a few steps behind them. “What’s the difference?”

“Why does no one ever get they’re completely different?” the crab said. “Dragons are much, much bigger, they can usually talk, and have legs, arms, and wings. Drakes are smaller, smart but not usually enough to communicate through the common tongue, and have wings and legs, but no arms.”

“Can she breathe fire, though?”

“Oh yes,” Balthazar responded.

“Awesome…” the little girl said, looking at the drake with starry eyes and a smile. “You think I could ride on her back sometime?”

“Hah!” the crab guffawed. “I wouldn’t mind, but good luck convincing her. That one is feistier than a honey badger. You’d have to earn her trust first so that you don’t risk getting—Suze?”

The merchant looked to his side, confused as to where the girl had disappeared to.

“Woo-hoo!” Suze cheered a few paces behind. “This is fun!”

Turning to her, Balthazar found the child sitting on Blue’s back, waving her arms up with great joy as the drake trotted forward and flapped her wings for the girl’s amusement.

“Are you kidding me?” the miffed crab muttered as he glared at the two of them.

After traversing a couple more streets with the annoyed crustacean in silence, the group finally arrived in front of what seemed to be the only establishment open around those parts.

“Is this it?” Balthazar asked, having gotten over the ease with which everyone who wasn’t him seemed to get along with his drake.

“Yep!” Suze said, hopping off Blue’s back. “That’s The Rat’s Tail.”

The dingy place had two torches on sconces outside—a luxury of lighting, given what Balthazar had seen of that neighborhood so far—and unlike every other place of business around, its dangling sign had its name written on it.

“Alright, probably best if we don’t all walk in there together,” said the crab, turning to his two companions. “This place could be dangerous, so I also want to be ready if something goes wrong. Blue, take Druma up to that rooftop over there. You guys will keep an eye out for any trouble coming from the outside and will be ready to intervene if we find any trouble inside.”

After a vigorous nod from the goblin, he and the drake ran off to their lookout spot above, while the crab and the girl walked up to the front door of the tavern.

The heavy wooden door was closed, despite the hum of chatter and the loud clinking of glasses coming from the inside. Looking up, Balthazar saw a peephole hatch on the solid wooden surface, and under that, a framed piece of parchment with a warning written on it.

“What does it say?” the curious girl next to the crab asked.

“Hmm,” said the crustacean, stretching his eyestalks to read it. “It reads… Outsiders are not welcome. Oh…”

Suze placed her hands on her hips and scoffed. “Good thing I can’t read then!”

Balthazar cocked an eyestalk at her. “But I can.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, but you’re a crab. If you claim you can’t read, it’s not like anyone would question it!”

Without further hesitation, the little rascal reached forward and knocked on the door.

“Suze!” exclaimed the merchant.

The hatch on the door swung open with a thud, and a scowling pair of eyes peeked outside.

“Who’s there?” a brutish voice asked.

“We are!” the young girl said, stretching her hand up in front of the bouncer’s field of view and waving. “We wanna come in!”

The man’s scowl deepened. “You must be lost, kid. This place ain’t for you. Take your pet and get outta here.”

With a loud thud, he slammed the hatch shut before Suze could make a retort. Which she very clearly intended to make.

The little girl gave the door a couple of kicks. “Hey! Come back here!”

Light appeared through the peephole again as the bouncer opened the hatch again, his angry gaze fixed on the girl.

“I told you to get lost, kid,” he said. “You have no business coming in here.”

“You—” the seething little girl started, but Balthazar stepped forward and signaled her to stand down with his pincer.

“Let me try my way,” he told her, before turning to the bouncer. “Good evening. Don’t mind my aide here, she’s new at this.”

“You’re what?!” the kid murmured with a frown.

“I don’t know what you are,” the man said, looking down at the crab. “But I don’t know you, so you can get lost too.”

“I believe you’re wrong,” Balthazar said, reaching into his Bag of Holding Money. “I do have business with someone there.”

The merchant showed two golden coins to the bouncer and rubbed them together between his pincer.

“Plenty more where those came from,” he said. “If you let us in to spend them.”

The doorkeeper’s eyebrows rose slightly at the sight of shiny gold. If there was one thing Balthazar knew most humans shared with him, it was the love for shiny gold. Even just the mere promise of its existence was enough to entice them. He didn’t even have to spend it, just show it off. It was his favorite way of using gold.

“Alright,” said the bouncer. “If you’re so desperate to do away with your coin, come on in.”

Several bolts slammed behind the thick wood as he unlocked the door, until finally it opened, the light from the inside hitting the crab and the girl along with the intense smell of ale and wine.

“Welcome to The Rat’s Tail.”