A few months after arriving at Endergaln
The office of Ethan Thorne
Ethan’s office was nestled between the east side’s Miller’s Row and the Red Lantern district. The scents outside changed wildly depending on which way the winds were blowing.
Inside, perpetual dusk leaked in through slated blinds, forming slitted spotlights. Dust swirled between the pillars, dancing between light and darkness. Ethan reclined in the short-backed rocker—less furniture than driftwood—his boots propped up on the battered oak desk groaning beneath the familiar weight.
Furniture crashed around him as he lit a cigarette, the match briefly reflecting off his vibrant green eyes.
A decanter shattered against the wall, filling the room with the smell of cheap whiskey. He winced without turning, still working to catch the kindling of paper between his lips.
“Jackie…” he said, more weary than warning.
The man in the too-tight waistcoat and trousers glanced over his shoulder. His shrug was almost apologetic. Orders are orders, it said.
Ethan signed and nodded once. Orders were orders. He took a long drag as Jack went back to work; the cacophony of crashing continued.
Jack swept two crystal tumblers from the shelf, letting them break on the floor before grinding them underfoot. The trousers threatened to split at the seam as he stomped. The vest looked like it was holding back an avalanche of muscle.
Marco, the smaller of the two, was already winded. He move across the room and began tearing through the desk drawers beside Ethan in quick, jerking motions, spilling the contents across the floor like a scavenger stripping a carcass.
When he reached the lowest drawer, Ethan sat forward.
“Not that one,” he said, voice flat. “That’s important.”
Marco froze, looked to Jack. Jack gave a small nod, and Marco moved on.
When the wreckage was done, Marco was sweating through his collar. Jack looked as fresh as when he’d walked in.
Ethan took a slow drag. “I paid. In full. On time. Check with Frank.”
“You were short,” Jack said. “Price went up ten percent.”
“When?” Ethan asked. “Frank didn’t say anything.”
Jack gave him the same slow, patient look a bouncer gives a drunk right before the throw-out. Said nothing.
“Ah,” Ethan murmured. “So it went up after I paid. Again.”
Jack nodded. “Is what it is. End of the week—or we take it out on you.”
Ethan exhaled smoke toward the ceiling. “Fine. I’ll get the coin to Frank. Wouldn’t want to risk my blood ruining that handsomely tight suit of yours.”
“You’d be doing me a favor,” Jack said. “I can barely breathe in this thing.”
“You know a tailor could fix that,” Ethan said, somewhere between mockery and sincerity.
Jack waved it off. “Boss likes it this way. Says it makes me look good. Which ‘makes him look good’.”
They headed for the door.
“I’d offer you a drink for the road, but..” Ethan gestured toward the wreckage of the decanter.
Jack smirked.
“I been cutting back anyway,” Marco said. “Booze makes you slow in the head, ya know?”
“That so?” Ethan smiled faintly. “I think maybe you cut back a little too late, Marco.”
Marco bristled. “Fuck you, Thorne.”
“Let’s go,” Jack said, still amused.
The door shut behind them, leaving the place quiet except for the faint creak of the rocker as Ethan stood.
He tapped the cigarette out into an ashtray, picked up a small card from the piles spilled across the floor, scrawled a note, rolled it into a pneumatic tube, and sent it hissing away. The cleaners would have the place looking whole again in a couple days.
He then moved to check the content of the spared drawer. From inside, he pulled a weathered but sturdy DragonChess board, its accompanied ebony and ivory pieces nestled within a small, velvet pouch.
He rested the board atop the freshly cleared desk.
Ten percent more.. he thought absently, staring at the board. Ten percent more… each month.
Ethan tried to estimate how long it would take before the compound interest was more coin than likely existed in the world before remembering he wasn’t smart enough to do that type of work. He tucked the Chessboard under his arm, left his office, and made his way across town to meet up with someone who probably was.
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