Raven Records

The following conversation was recorded by Raven Records and delivered to client on file, _{Al Peppercorn}, in lieu of requested recipient due to availability conflict. Any and all information recorded by Raven Records is delivered with guaranteed privacy. No duplicate records are retained by Raven Records and no additional copies are made or disseminated without the clients explicit request.

Participants:

Speaker I

Speaker II

Recording as follows:

Please note, original recording by this raven has been overwritten.

Strong language redacted by account owner request.

Speaker I: -lieve you’re still working for that [expletive].

Speaker II: Yeah, well, not all of us are blessed with the ability to change our face and hide out from our contract on a technicality. Stop squirming, you’re just going to give yourself rope burn. And it’s not like I didn’t try to warn you.

Speaker I: Warn me, my foot. You couldn’t just keep your mouth shut?

Speaker II: You know I couldn’t.

Speaker I:

Speaker I: Yeah, I know you couldn’t. Was it bad?

Speaker II:

Speaker I: I’m sorry.

Speaker II: Not your fault.

Speaker I: You’re being suspiciously polite. Back in the day you would have dragged me back by the tail while I shouted abuse. What’s with the guiding hand and the keeping-me-from-tripping-over-my-own-feet?

Speaker II: You’ve been gone a long time, E. Things change.

Speaker I: Aren’t you angry with me?

Speaker II: I was. For a long time, I was. But, honestly, what could you have done? Taken me with you? My contract isn’t as loose as yours was. Stayed? So that I could watch you suffer right alongside me?

Speaker I: Sure. Misery loves company, etcetera, etcetera.

Speaker II: I don’t want to be the kind of person who feels better because someone else has it just as bad as they do. Even if it could have been true.

Speaker I:

Speaker I: That’s suspiciously well-adjusted of you.

Speaker II: Would you believe it? Fifteen-odd years without anything but the specter of you over my shoulder and my nose to a new, rougher grindstone, and I found myself with time for introspection.

Speaker I: He really put you through it, didn’t he?

Speaker II: Well, at first he was wrathful. You were gone, and without your intel the siege on Cabadonn fell flat on its face.

Speaker I: He tired to go ahead with it?

Speaker II: Too proud to back down, you know that.

Speaker I: But there’s no way-

Speaker II: Falset died. So did Ritha and Deb, and Kidjit lost her arm up to the shoulder. Murdoch kept her around for another few months before deciding she was more trouble than she was worth and trading her in for a newer model the hard way.

Speaker I: Dysthet.

Speaker II: You keep saying that. You never used to believe in anything before.

Speaker I: I’m not sure I do now. It’s just a word, I think.

Speaker II: Well, watch it around Murdoch. Dysthet is nowhere near the pantheon he looks to these days.

Speaker I: What about you?

Speaker II: What about me.

Speaker I: You were front line on that takeover. Hells, you were over the line, halfway up my ass by the time I made it down that tower. Where were you when he pushed?

Speaker II: More than halfway up your ass, and gaining.

Speaker I: [Expletive], really?

Speaker II: Nearly had you, too. Couldn’t let you go voluntarily, not unless I wanted to burn from the inside out, and frankly I was pissed with you for trying when I couldn’t. And then the funniest thing happened. I hit the end of my leash, and you kept running.

Speaker I: The tree line.

Speaker II: The tree line. You moved through it, and I hit it like a choke-hold. The only thing I could do was stand there and watch you go. Smooth move on dropping your scales first thing, by the way, made you real difficult to keep an eye on through the trees.

Speaker I: You just watched?

Speaker II: What were my options? Strangle myself to death trying to follow? Trundle back to Murdoch with my nose to the dirt and beg forgiveness for your actions? I just watched. You were gone in an instant, but I watched for probably a few bells, at least. Long enough to miss the action. I only turned back when Murdoch yanked.

Speaker I: And he was pissed.

Speaker II: At least I had cause. I’m compelled to stop desertion, by his own order, so I had a good argument. Not that he cared.

Speaker I: Is that where that came from?

Speaker II: How uncouth of you to ask.

Speaker I: Sorry.

Speaker II: I’m messing with you. Yeah, it is. It’s not so bad anymore, just ugly. The worst was when it started to close; my face was always pulling. My skin isn’t as forgiving as yours.

Speaker I: I think it’s kind of dashing.

Speaker II: Oh yeah?

Speaker I: Very.

Speaker II: Well, you’ve always had questionable taste.

Speaker I: Ouch.

Speaker I: How far out are we?

Speaker II: Not far. I’m dragging my feet.

Speaker I: Trying to spare me some time?

Speaker II: Trying to spare myself, more like. The last time I was with him was not. Great. For me.

Speaker I: After Wansborne?

Speaker II: He wasn’t exactly thrilled that I’d been within spitting distance of you and came back empty-handed.

Speaker I: What were you out there for, anyway?

Speaker II: Didn’t you read my letter? He had me working with Desire, which was really just an excuse to have me reporting back to him on her little experiments.

Speaker I: Yeah, I saw one. They’ve gotten ghoulish.

Speaker II: If you saw one out of her tower, it was one of the better ones. You should see the failures. Or maybe you shouldn’t.

Speaker I: How did you know about the Holler, anyway? I can almost accept recognizing me cold on the street, fifteen years removed and a new face not withstanding, but how’d you know where to send that ask?

Speaker II: I’m subscribed.

Speaker I: You’re subscribed.

Speaker II: I’m subscribed.

Speaker I:

Speaker I: What do you mean ‘you’re subscribed’.

Speaker II: I like your features.

Speaker I: My features.

Speaker II: Yeah, and your interviews. They’re fun. Well written. It’s interesting to learn about different people and what they get up to. I’ve never met a dragon, I thought it was cool you got to interview one.

Speaker I: No, stop, you’re subscribed? You’ve been subscribed? And this is the first time you’ve made a move?

Speaker II: Well, it’s not like I had reasonable cause to believe you were the author, did I? I would have been compelled to report back if I’d known something. But I just liked the paper. Easy to find, easy to read, something to occupy myself with while on the road. But then you had to walk right in from of me with your little “Support the Holler!” pin, and suddenly I had a report to make.

Speaker I: [Expletive], I knew those pins were a bad idea. [Expletive] interns.

Speaker II: You cuss more than I remember.

Speaker I: Yeah, well, I’m not bound by Murdoch’s code of conduct anymore, am I?

Speaker II: Must be nice.

Speaker I: Saying what I like, whenever I’d like to? Yeah. Yeah, it is.

Speaker II: I’m sorry about this, by the way.

Speaker I: Not your fault. You know I get it.

Speaker II: Doesn’t mean it sucks any less for understanding.

Speaker I: Yeah.

Speaker I: The tower is worse than I remember it.

Speaker II: Even this far off?

Speaker I: Within sight is too close for me. Sharing a continent with that thing is bad enough.

Speaker II: Fair

Speaker I: How do you think this is gonna go?

Speaker II: For you? Badly.

Speaker I: Optimistic.

Speaker II: I’d hate to lie to you. He’s had time to marinate in your desertion, his feelings about it have sort of . . . calcified.

Speaker I: You know, that is a lovely turn of phrase. If I wasn’t relatively certain I was about to disappear into that tower and never come back out, I’d be tempted to offer you a job at the Holler. Or bully my boss into offering you a job at the Holler. One of those.

Speaker II: A boss you don’t hate? That’s new.

Speaker I: Al’s kind. You’d like him.

Speaker II: Sounds nice. If I wasn’t also relatively sure I won’t be free of this leash until Murdoch dies or, against all odds, grows a conscience, I might be willing to take you up on that and find out.

Speaker I: Here we are. The mouth of my own personal hell. What a treat. Well, I suppose it’ll make for a halfway decent story, at least. Something something, returning to the beginning, something something, cyclical narrative. Inspiring. Good story for planting season.

Speaker II: I think that’s only if you live to tell about it.

Speaker I: Don’t ruin it for me, I’m trying to find a golden cloud in this shitstorm.

Speaker II: Let me know if you spot one.

Speaker I: Yeah. Nothing left but the stairs, I guess.

Speaker II: He’s installed a lift, actually.

Speaker I: You’re kidding.

Speaker II: I am not.

Speaker I: Surprisingly forward thinking of him.

Speaker II: It’s exclusive to his use.

Speaker I: That sounds more like it. Elitist [expletive].

Speaker II: After you.