- Plot Teaser:
- One organized family of criminals attempts to steal another's prized songbird, but such an act comes with dire consequences, and the songbird herself hides more than just a delicate voice beneath her pretty looks...
A chill wind wound its way between flat mud-brick buildings, rubbing raw the bare skin of every traveler naive enough to trust that the desert was not just as threatening as its denizens. Far out in the mountains, the little town was nothing more than a glimmering torch on the sandy plain, flickering back and forth as people scurried to and from their homes. Up close, though, the twisting streets all drew pedestrians to a central location. A person wandering the outskirts would somehow invariably find himself approaching a street crowded by throngs of others, the warm, spicy bite of hot drinks in the air, the sounds of raucous laughter and the banging of ceramic plates, and above it all, a gentle but piercing voice carrying a delicate melody.
Inside The Sleeping Helcat, men and women alike sat, a mug of beer or a stout glass of whiskey in hand. Some smoked, and the scent of thick tobacco mingled with the sweet smell of a hard apple cider, the Helcat special. While outside, conversations carried on about who had won big that day off the Family's fights, inside was almost deathly silent. All the patrons of the Sleeping Helcat sat enraptured by the lilting song, a sordid tale of loss and bittersweet love, of heartache and hateful revenge. The singer wove a story of how she'd once been wed to a handsome, strong man, how she'd fallen head over heels for him, how he'd racked up debt after debt, and how when she found he'd been unfaithful, she'd spilled his guts all over the floor.
The singer was dressed in a long, slender gown, black and twinkling with sequins in the dim electric light. Her dark brown hair, normally firmly swept around the corners of her face, was done up in curls atop her head. Makeup turned her normally pale skin a bright rosy color, and though she'd taken several drinks at various customers' behests, her face showed no signs of inebriation. As she sang, she stared out into the air above all the patrons as if she wasn't seeing them but rather whatever story she was still unfolding, and when the song finally stopped, the crowd was silent for several moments before erupting into thunderous applause.
"Ladies and gentlemen," a man of sharp, chiseled features said. He wore a black suit with a bow-tie, and his hair was slicked back handsomely. "Please give another round of applause to Miss Claire here."
Again, the air was filled with a noise like a stampede of Cannon Fort. Even some of the zoids sitting outside brayed noises of approval. It was well-known amongst the locals that Miss Claire's voice could calm even the most savage of desert beasts, and the Sleeping Helcat had a special area behind the bar where zoids were welcomed to stay while their pilots were inside.
"She truly is a gem for our family," the man continued as Claire demurely smiled and bowed. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we'd like to take a quick intermission this evening. Miss Claire would probably like some water and a chance to collect herself, I'm sure. Please enjoy your evening, folks."
Claire bowed again and followed the man behind the stage curtain into a back room. Out in the main room, the once silent patrons all began talking excitedly again as one table near the door emptied of its occupants. The three of them, burly-looking men, stood and quietly meandered between the packed bar towards the door leading to the back room. Their faces, however, were far less cheerful than those of the other customers. There was a job to do this evening, after all.