Dear Reader, Getting a story out of Shrilynda is no easy task, but when presented with the opportunity, I couldn't turn it down. I think you'll agree with me the risk to life and limb was worth it. However, Shrilynda was adamant I retell the story t...
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To Shrilynda's surprise, no stabbing or paralysis was needed to locate Cliff. The first bartender in the first tavern she walked in knew exactly who she was talking about, and he pointed her in the right direction without batting an eyelash. Unfortunately, this meant her target was well-known, but she toyed with the related hope his death could be easily explained. Powerful men were often enemies of other powerful men, the kind who hired assassins.
On this front, however, she was disappointed. Cliff was not so much powerful as he was loud. No wonder everyone in town knew who he was.
When Shrilynda found him, he was giving a speech to a group of well-dressed men and women. Shrilynda would have assumed they were local merchants if she cared that much. She did not care. She had a headache brought on from the crash after the dark magic influx of the knife, and she merely wanted Cliff to cease talking and get himself to a remote location.
Just as she was considering setting fire to the raised platform Cliff was blathering from, a ball of fur made an appearance. More accurately, a tiny monkey launched itself onto Cliff's head right when he was announcing the dates of the opening of a new dockside market. The animal snatched the papers from the podium in front of him and pitched them into the crowd, screeching. Apparently somebody other than Shrilynda also thought the meeting was running long. The merchants used the interruption to close the meeting themselves, thanking Cliff for all his hard work and dedication before fleeing to their shops and businesses.
He sighed and wished people well while gathering his papers and chastising the monkey who was hopping up and down on his head, seeming more proud of herself than chastised. Soon he was alone in an empty square, but Shrilynda could hardly remain unnoticed accosting him in the middle of town. She pulled her cloak around herself and followed him down streets. She received a few side glances, but Baysellians were generally good at keeping to themselves and pointedly ignoring what wasn't trying to kill them.
Cliff argued with the monkey the whole way. Although it may have been more accurate to say he argued at the monkey the whole way, the ball of fur did respond in shrieks and squeals, so the conversation seemed two-sided. Shrilynda never had the patience for animals.
Unfortunately, Cliff was headed to another public place—an inn for a late lunch. Shrilynda had hoped the monkey would be left outside, but when Cliff turned to the monkey on his shoulder and asked, "What today? Pecan pie?" and she shrieked and clapped her hands together, Shrilynda understood the monkey would be accompanying him. She needed to stage an unfortunate accident for this man sooner than later. Poison would be satisfying.
She slipped around the back of the inn. The door to the kitchen hung wide open in an attempt to bring in cooler air to the poor souls forced to prepare food next to the fires of the kitchen. Of course, the air outside was not remotely cool, but even so, Shrilynda could feel the kitchen heat wafting her way. The wooden door swayed with a rush of sea air, and Shrilynda was able to get a good look inside. No one was in the kitchen.
