The blacksmith's apprentice, Luf, was trembling so badly he could barely stay on his feet as he carried a lump of dimeritium from the corner and set it before Babu.
The Zerrikanian, his face covered in blue tattoos, inspected the size of the metal block, then waved Luf away.
Fergus stood there with his arms folded, silent and dignified as a master craftsman, leaving Yoana to speak for him. "As you can see, Babu, all the anti-magic metal Mr. Reuven gave us is here. We haven't sold any of it, and there's been no question of forging dimeritium weapons."
Babu didn't even look at Yoana when she spoke. His eyes remained on Fergus. "My apologies, master, but we need to confirm the source of the dimeritium in Batman's hands.
"Our mages nearly caught him last night, but their spells were disrupted... and then..." He broke off there, because the rest reflected rather badly on them. "In any case, pardon the disturbance."
After the sabre warrior led his men away, Yoana relaxed her shoulders, patted Fergus and Luf on the back to reassure them, then headed into the back-room laboratory to find the real culprit.
...
With the door shut tight behind her, the woman blacksmith glared at her innocent-looking employer, her eyes practically spitting fire.
"You're Batman, aren't you?
"The same Batman who's had the whole city in an uproar these past fifteen days. The Dark Knight who pulled off another grand performance last night and knocked out two mages.
"No wonder you dragged me out of bed in the middle of the night, kicked Luf out, and rushed to turn those dimeritium clubs back into metal blocks.
"You knew they'd trace the source of the anti-magic metal!"
Victor had no real defense against the accusation.
After living and working together this long, with their interests thoroughly intertwined, it was about time Yoana learned some of his secrets.
Besides, she was one of Batman's admirers. A sincere admirer. In the workshop there was an entire shelf set aside just for newspaper clippings about the Dark Knight.
After the day he rescued Luf, Batman had expanded the scope of his attacks. He was no longer limiting himself to saving women in trouble. Any gang member walking the streets now ran the risk of being beaten senseless. Killing them might have been a step too far, but the beatings never landed on the wrong people.
That change had made the "Big Four" lose patience quickly. Last night they had even sent mages out on patrol. Unfortunately for them, Victor had gotten a prototype anti-magic weapon from Yoana one step ahead of time.
They had assumed Batman was just some costumed lunatic and never thought to guard against anti-magic equipment. A mage caught off guard and forced into close quarters was no harder to deal with than a drunk. One strike, one knockout. Warriors equally skilled in magic and melee were rare, and no one hired them for night patrols.
Seeing Victor's sly, wordless smile, Yoana tried to stay angry, but ended up smiling too.
"So you've been doing this since Vizima?"
"That's right. At first I just wanted to help women walking home at night. And honestly, beating up bad people feels fantastic."
"Then in that poem, the 'Miss Prejudice' line really was hinting at Princess Adda? And all those stories between you and her were true?" the blacksmith asked, fists clenched in excitement.
Victor rubbed the bridge of his nose and straightened his expression.
"No. I swear on my honor, Dandelion made every bit of that up."
Yoana's smile collapsed at once. She sighed in disappointment.
"So it wasn't true... what a shame. You've ruined a beautiful fantasy of mine."
"Trust me, even if they both look female on the outside, Miss Prejudice and Princess Adda are practically different species."
There was a knock at the door. It was Angoulême. Victor told her to let herself in.
She came in, locked the door out of habit, and set her shopping basket at the boss's feet. "Last night's results were a little too spectacular. Everyone at the market is talking about who Batman might be.
"And Vic, you might want to do something about the soundproofing in these wooden walls. I could make out bits and pieces of your conversation from outside."
The boy picked up the basket and rummaged through it. "No problem. I'll deal with the soundproofing in a couple of days. I already told Yoana about the Batman business.
"Since everyone's here, tell me something. How have things been going with Luf?"
Victor was really asking whether they should let Luf stay.
After a moment's hesitation, Yoana spoke first.
"He's all right. A timid young man, with some talent for smithing, though his heart isn't really in it. I can tell he's hiding secrets."
"He won't tell you, even to a fellow Skelliger?"
Yoana shook her head.
"That'll take time. We only built trust after spending a while together ourselves."
"Yoana thinks he's decent enough. What about you, Angoulême?"
The girl closed her eyes and considered for a moment. "My impression isn't as good as Yoana's. Maybe it's just a feeling, or my prejudice against islanders talking, but his cowardice feels more like an act to me. Underneath, he still seems like a fierce, violent son of Skellige."
That jab at her homeland made Yoana flare up immediately, and she reached out to tug at Angoulême's cheeks. Angoulême returned the favor at once.
Ignoring the two women's horseplay, Victor thought it over for a moment.
"All right... this time I'm siding with Yoana. That makes it two to one. He stays."
Victor's reason for supporting Luf was very simple: the sound of the boy's name earned him far too many points.
And once the boss had made up his mind, that was that.
Neither of the girls was willing to let go first, and neither had any reason to back down. Still wrestling with each other, Yoana asked through gritted words, "Babu already came knocking today. What do we do next?"
"It doesn't matter. Batman can take a break for a while anyway." Victor pulled a folded notice from the shopping basket and read it over.
Angoulême spoke around what sounded like a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "Apparently the stalls in the Produce Market have been getting harassed lately by some mysterious creature. Sylvester Amello of the Merchants' Guild is offering a hefty reward to anyone who can catch the thieving little imp."
Victor flicked the bounty notice twice with his fingers. "A little imp? That does sound interesting. The Produce Market opens in the morning, so I'll go take a look tomorrow."
With that, and ignoring the two ladies still locked in combat, the alchemy apprentice got up and went to the kitchen to start dinner.
...
Early the next morning, Victor jogged to the Produce Market to meet the client.
On the way there, a filthy, disheveled beggar sitting beside a brazier croaked weakly, "Spare a crown?"
Victor tossed him one, rewarding him either for getting up so early to start work, or for having slept there all night and survived the cold by clinging to the fire's warmth.
The Produce Market stood beside Tretogor Gate. Tretogor was the capital of Redania, and the gate bore that name because the royal family had funded its construction.
They had donated a large sum to build the new gate, and had also hired the renowned architect Countess Anna Yaye-Pinkovitz and her team as their labor contribution. Their original goal had been to curry favor with Novigrad's merchants and the Hierarch, but time had proven the effort had little effect.
Viewed from the gate, the Produce Market was not as prosperous as Hierarch Square, but it served a different clientele, catering mainly to the poor. With the Merchants' Guild involved in its operation, it still had a lively, thriving air.
After asking around a few times, Victor quickly found Sylvester Amello. He had a neatly trimmed full beard and wore a cobalt-blue outer robe with a red round cap tilted at an angle. Compared with the other stall owners nearby, he was obviously a much more polished figure.
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