Chapter One

Jinghu, Hurenaki Dynasty. (3, Caróg, 593 AP. Evening.)
Lighting flashed through blackened clouds over the sprawling lake town, briefly illuminating its curved, jewel-colored roof tiles and winding rain-drenched streets where colorful lanterns faintly twinkled. To the north rose the air-docks built out from the dark mountains towering high above the lake, a great forest stretched far to the south and east, west lie mirror lake, its serene reflection broken by the torrential downpour of the storm. The soft scents of cherry blossom, magnolia and fir fought for supremacy over the stench of damp wood and fish along the docks. A small figure hurried through the streets, cursing as a gutter overhead emptied down her back. She stopped outside a two-story building over the water, old wood and brass barely hidden under peeling paint and a faded blue door. An old sign proclaimed it The Grumpy Panda Inn. She hurried inside, kicking the door shut behind her as her eyes searched the room. The interior was slightly less lackluster than the exterior, though its bamboo and wood furniture was worn from frequent use, brass fittings tarnishing, and gold brocade fabric too long faded to recognize the pattern. A wave of ale, worn leather, and fruity cocktails assaulted her nostrils, the din of laughter and drinking obscuring the sounds of the storm that raged outside. There, at the back. She squelched towards her target angrily. Unaware of the approaching tempest, a stylish man with beech skin lounged at his table with a careless grace, chestnut hair falling to his shoulders and a trim beard, brows drawn, frowning at the letter in his hand.
“TIGERS Branneghan.” She growled, dropping a wet pouch onto the table in front of him with a wet chink.
Emerald eyes glanced up from the parchment which he folded absently as he took in her bedraggled, mud-spattered appearance with faint amusement. “Evening, Kara. You look lovely as always. Please, have a seat.”
“Tigers!” She hissed, fighting to keep her voice down in the tide of her fury.
“You’ll feel better after a drink.” He waved towards the seat across from him, signaling to the old server droid humming quietly as it moved between tables.
Takara threw back her hood and dropped into the chair across from him with a distinct flop. “You couldn’t warn me the Empress has two tigers running loose on the grounds?! Seriously?!”
Branneghan chuckled. His voice warm and rich, with a deep velvety brogue. “A hot Buttered Rum for my friend please.” He glanced at Takara again. “Better make it a double. Put it on my tab.”
“Of course, sir.” The server spoke in its metallic, vaguely female voice. It hummed as it rolled towards the bar.
"That better not be coming out of my pay.”
“My treat. As for not telling you that our beloved empress keeps unusual pets? She doesn’t exactly make a secret of it.”
“Nobody said the blasted things ran loose! And she’s not my Empress. Or yours for that matter.” She scowled and tried to wring out some of the water from her attire. It didn’t have much effect, beyond adding to the puddle forming around her chair.
________________________
Brann watched her efforts with some amusement. Her curly crow black hair was plastered across her brow, her sunstone skin seemed paler than usual, accentuating the jagged scar by her right eye. She was also glaring at him, but that was nothing new. He tended to have that effect on her. “So what happened? Did you fall in the lake?”
“Actually, I jumped,” She replied, her voice low, and carefully even. "because it was either jump or be mauled by tigers.”
Branneghan raised his eyebrows “You jumped off of the spire?”
“And nearly lost my boat in this stupid rain. I had to swim in this Brann!” She growled, trying not to shout as she lost her temper again.
The server returned with two steaming mugs that smelled of buttery spice, and Branneghan took a moment to process this. Takara took a moment to inhale her drink.
“So, to be clear...you got the jewels, were chased by tigers, and then you decided the best course of escape was to jump off of the Jade Spire and swim for it. In the rain. That’s nearly sixty meters! Flair for the dramatic much?”
“It’s just water.” She shrugged.
“Careful Kara, your past is showing. You might want to tuck that in.”
“Oh shut up.” She muttered over the rim of her drink.
“Ordinary people don’t regard a sixty-meter jump as a minor inconvenience.”
“Almost sixty. And ordinary people don’t regard tigers as a minor inconvenience.”
“Touché.” He raised his mug in acknowledgment before taking a sip. He glanced briefly at the letter in his hand, before slipping it inside one of the many hidden pockets of his vest. “I have another job for you when you’ve finished complaining.”
“You know I’m never finished complaining.” She quipped, “What is it?”
“I need you to retrieve a...parcel for me. Off of an airship docked in Hagsfjori.”
“You don’t ask for much.” She said sarcastically. “Hagsfjori? You’ve never sent me that far north before.” She paused, eyeing him over her drink “I didn’t think our guild branch covered anything above the Seguegande.”
“They don’t. The Circle isn’t a part of this, it’s...personal.” There was an odd catch to his voice as if he didn’t want to say the words.
“What’s in this package?”
“Afraid I can’t say.”
Takara set down her drink, frowning. “You’re sending me into another branch’s territory, onto an airship in the frigid tundra-”
“It’s not that bad this time of year-
“-and you can’t even tell me why I’m doing it??”
“Something like that.” His tone was light, but his expression remained somber. “And if you can’t find it, I’ll need you to sabotage the ship.”
“That’s not my line. Not any more.”
“I know, but you’re the only one I can trust with this.”
“Just not enough to tell me what’s really going on.”
“It’s a favor for an old friend, and it’s time sensitive. More than that will put you both at risk. I wouldn’t send you if I didn’t think you could do it.”
She watched him for a moment, unconsciously tapping her fingers on the side of her mug. Brann usually tried to tease and charm her into helping him out. This time he seemed hesitant, almost worried. “You still owe me my coin.”
He smiled and produced a second pouch from the folds of his clothing, sliding it slowly across the table.
She put it away without counting its contents, her eyes still locked onto his face. She’d known Branneghan for years, had run dozens of missions for him, always guild backed, always professional. He rarely asked for favors, and though he’d never call her on it, she owed him a considerable debt. A resigned feeling of acceptance came over her. She sighed, tossing back the rest of her drink. “Fine. But there had better not be any tigers this time.”
“There aren’t any tigers.” He promised.