Page 60 of Kill the Beast
Because as much as she hated to admit it, she found herself missing the idiot whenever she passed a shop with particularly outrageous clothing displayed in the window.
When Lyssa finally got to the Chimera’s Tongue, she breathed in the familiar scents of iron and coal and clay while she waited for Shendra to finish up with another customer. The shop was oneof the smallest on the Iron Lane, low-ceilinged and perpetually dark on account of the single sooty window facing the street, but what it lacked in aesthetic appeal, it more than made up for with its competitive prices, as well as the sheer volume ofstuffShendra had been able to cram into the miniscule square footage. The space was as cluttered as Alderic’s parlor and as difficult to maneuver, boasting almost everything a blacksmith would ever need—billets and bars, hammers, tongs, gloves. There was even an anvil shoved under one of the bow-legged tables near the counter. Shendra also regularly bought finished products made by her customers, for a fair price or for trade. Lyssa always came to the Chimera’s Tongue first when she had blades or talismans to sell.
When it was Lyssa’s turn to step up to the counter, though, the merchant winced.
“I’m sorry, Carnifex, but I sold out of all my Valdalian steel a few days ago,” she said before Lyssa could ask.
“You couldn’t have set a billet aside for me? You knew I needed some,” Lyssa said, frustrated despite having known this was a possibility. Shendra’s shipments of specialty items like Valdalian steel were smaller than those of the other shops on the Iron Lane, because of her ongoing storage issues. They weren’t as in-demand as iron or the cheaper Ibyrnikan steel, and she couldn’t afford to have them taking up space in her shop. That meant that when shedidget a shipment in, she tended to sell out quickly—which often made it difficult for a customer like Lyssa, who couldn’t come back to check her stock day after day.
“You know I don’t allow holds,” Shendra replied, though her heavy brows bunched together with genuine regret. “First come, first serve.”
“You could let me pay you in advance, once in a while.”
“I don’t have the room to store things for you,” Shendra said, gesturing to indicate her shop, which looked ready to burst its seams. “Especially if I never know when you’re going to show up. Blowing in here on the wind after vanishing for months at a time.Besides, if I do it for you I’d have to do it for everyone, and Ireallydon’t have the room for that.”
“I know, I know.” Lyssa picked at her lip. Valdalian steel was the best for her purposes—Ragnhild claimed that it held magic better than anything else they’d tried, and Lyssa had never cracked a blade during quenching, which was more than she could say for the cheaper Ibyrnikan stuff she had started out with. “Do you know when the next shipment is due?”
“Not for another month. But I hear Joren still has some—only shop with stock left, from what old Billsy told me.”
“Of course it’s the only shop with stock left,” Lyssa said with a scowl. “Joren charges three times as much as the rest of you do for the same steel. I don’t know how he manages to stay in business.”
Shendra snorted. “You know what they say about beggars and the luxury of choice. His storefront is the biggest, he has the most stock of the specialty stuff, and when the rest of us sell out of what you need, he can charge you whatever he wants and you’ll pay it.”
Lyssa hated that she was about to go do exactly that. It felt wrong on principle, even though she had someone else’s money in her pocket, this time.
She thanked Shendra and left the Chimera’s Tongue, walking down the length of the Iron Lane to the very last shop on the right-hand side. The Silver Shoe was twice the size of Shendra’s, with enormous windows displaying the latest—and most expensive—tools of the trade. Lyssa couldn’t remember the last time she had been inside. Joren was nice enough, but she simply couldn’t afford to buy from him when she was the one paying. Luckily, she had Alderic’s coin purse in her possession today.
It wasn’t Joren at the counter when she walked in, though, the little bell chiming her entrance. It was some puffed-up young rooster in a scarlet shirt and black waistcoat, the pathetic beginnings of a moustache oiled to within an inch of its life clinging to his upper lip.
“Hello, love,” he said by way of greeting as he walked around thecounter—his pants were as obnoxious as his shirt—immediately sparking Lyssa’s frustration into fury. “What can I do for a fierce-looking filly like you today?”
“I need Valdalian steel,” she said through clenched teeth. “Shendra said you—”
“Valdalian steel?” he interrupted. “How very much like a woman.” When Lyssa only glared at him in response, he said, “Valdalian is pretty, I’ll grant you that, but if you want quality metal you should really try Niadosian. Have you ever heard of it?”
“I did not care for Niadosian,” Lyssa said slowly, doing her best to keep her temper in check. “I would like—”
“Are you certain you worked it correctly?” the boy asked, giving her a supercilious smile that all but signed his death certificate. “I’venever had trouble with it. Maybe you should—”
“Listen to me, you little shit,” Lyssa spat, her anger ratcheting up to a level she would not be able to control for much longer. “I need Valdalian steel, and I have the money to pay your ridiculous prices for it. Are you going to sell it to me, or not?”
“No,” the rooster said, drawing himself up to his full height—several inches shorter than Lyssa—and pinching one end of his patchy mustache. “I don’t think I will. Not if you’re going to talk to me like that. My father is the owner of this establishment, and I think I can safely speak for him when I say that we do not want or need your business.”
If Lyssa didn’t punch him soon, she was going to burst a blood vessel in her brain. “I need that steel.”
“Then you’re going to have to get it somewhere else.”
“Thereisnowhere else. That’s the only reason I’m eveninthis shop to begin with.”
The boy smirked. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to be rude to me.”
Lyssa found herself closing the distance between them in a few quick strides. Found herself backing him against the counter as he scrambled to get away from her. Found herself glaring down athis now-panicked face. Gone was the arrogant attitude, the condescending sneer.
She flexed her fingers. It would be so easy to teach him a lesson.
But then he held up his hands in surrender, stammering something unintelligible, and the jaunty scarlet of his shirtsleeves snapped her out of the blinding rage that had all but consumed her. There was a pattern of roses sewn across his cuffs in a slightly darker shade of red than the shirt itself.
Alderic would have loved it.
