The Sweetbriar Slayer

Chapter Four: Delicacy

"I need your help," she says, and Colin grimaces. "I'm not strong enough to kill someone on my own, especially not a man- even one as out of shape as Patricus Warmus. I need something to give me an edge."

"Warmus, huh? That's the special of the day?" Colin interjects, wobbling a little where he stands, grinning, revealing yellowed teeth in desperate need of a good brush. "Gonna filet or boil him? Serve him bite-sized or skewered?" he asks, and cackles, as though he has made some great joke.

Aurelia wonders if she has made a horrible mistake. She ignores him, and continues.

"My Pabu told me that when he was young, and still lived with the Amaliem, they would coat their arrows with poison. He said it would paralyze their prey, so even if they didn't shoot an animal in a vital point, they could still catch it. Is it possible to make something like that?"

Colin scoffs.

"Course. That's covered in the third year of apprenticeship, Rat," he replies. "I'll stop by the guild and pick up the ingredients," he adds, scratching at the back of his neck, his face screwing up in distaste at the prospect of leaving his house. "But you're making the poison," he adds, his tone suddenly grave, severe.

"An assassin needs to be self-reliant," he adds, surprisingly seriously. As high as he is, it is the most sober she's ever heard him. She nods, quickly, and he checks the time on his watch.

"What time do you need it?" he asks. She tells him, and he releases a low whistle. "Cutting it awfully close," is all he says.

"I know," she replies, her heart in her throat. "I need to pick up some things from the market. Do you have a spare key?" she asks, and Colin grimaces.

"Course not. Don't want guests," he replies, spitting out the word like it is a curse. "Guess I'll have to get one made. That'll be five alums."

Aurelia gapes at him. "Are you kidding?"

"You 'spect me to eat that cost? Hell with you. You want a key, you pay for it. This ain't a bed and breakfast, Rat. No 'menities."

Aurelia shakes her head. "I don't have time for this," she grumbles as she digs through her purse and pulls out a five alum coin. She tosses it at his head, and is gratified when he clumsily tries and fails to catch it.

Aurelia drops her suitcase on the floor beside the couch- grimy, honey-colored bamboo in desperate need of a good cleaning- and then turns back to Colin.

"I'll be back soon," she tells him, and he grunts and waves her off, weighing the coins she had given him in his hands, probably planning his next outing to purchase more of his vice.

Aurelia shops as quickly as she can- ducking in and out of several cramped shops that offer cheap goods. She picks up a low quality, frothy, pink piece of lingerie that looks like it belongs on a sixteen year old, a thinly woven sweater to wear over her faux prostitute's attire on her trips to and from the brothel, a pack of needles, and a cheap, decorative hairstick.

On her way back to Colin's flat, a soft, girlish glimmer of pink catches her eye, peeking out between the cheery yellows of marigolds and the gleaming white of lilies resting on a florist's cart. She pauses, and purchases a bough of sweetbriars on impulse upon realizing that they are the exact same shade as the negligee she'd bought.

When she arrives back to the flat, she finds Colin sitting at his kitchen table- a cheap looking white thing set with mismatched chairs- several glass jars and a brass key laid out in front of him.

Aurelia quickly pockets the key before he can try to hold it hostage for more alums. Then, she takes the wobbly seat across from Colin, looking down at the jars filled with items she couldn't hope to name.