It was late, even for Ava, and the streets were quiet and dark.
A mist hung in the air that seemed to conceal danger in every dark alleyway and every shadowed corner.
Ava was relieved to leave the Magic District behind, for strangeness was always afoot there (sometimes with a dozen feet).
But at the High District, Ava ran into another problem.
She could see the villas and palaces of the wealthy of New Larrin rising above the white walls of the district.
The problem was getting in.
The golden gates were closed after midnight and the guards eyed Ava’s approach warily.
"No visitors after midnight," said one.
The other began, "Not even..."
His words trailed off as Ava allowed her cloak to slip open and reveal the hint of her cleavage and the lovely velvet gown she was wearing beneath.
She fluttered her lashes and smiled hopefully.
"Sir, please, I’ve been invited to a party and I’m afraid I’m running reeeeeeally late," she said.
"I know the rules about late night visitors, but my host will be so very disappointed if I don’t put in a showing."
She allowed her cloak to slip a little more, revealing her shoulder and one long leg.
She leaned closer to the two guards, revealing more of her cleavage.
So ample and golden by the gaslight.
"You don’t live here, do you?" asked the guard.
"Where are you going?" asked the other, raising an eyebrow.
"We cannot have the likes of you wandering about."
"No," admitted Ava, her voice growing a bit embarrassed. "My... my guild sent me. I am to visit with mister Burgoyne. Alistair Burgoyne. But they forgot to give me a district pass. Please... please let me through."
The guards exchanged a look, and with good reason.
Alistair Burgoyne was an infamous and very wealthy merchant.
An outspoken libertine who indulged in all manner of perversity that was splashed in the gossip pages of New Larrin’s papers on several occasions.
Ava knew because she had interviewed him twice.
He was an eccentric, but quite charming in his own way.
He was also the sort of man who might order an elf to be delivered after midnight for a bit of his kinky pleasure.
Ava’s gambit was to announce that she was from the escort’s guild to get the guards to take advantage of her in exchange for letting her into the High District.
A quickie to get through the gate.
She was surprised when the guards stepped aside and swung open the golden gate.
"Be careful with Burgoyne," said the first guard.
"He’s kept women tied up in his manor for days before," said the second guard.
"Don’t let him take you down in his undercroft."
"But, I, well..." Ava lingered a moment at the gate.
The two guards were cute.
She had it all pictured in her head, bent over in their guard house with one in her mouth and the other taking her from behind.
But these two were rejecting her!
"It’s alright," said the first guard.
"He’s not as bad as all that. Not since the kidnapping trial. He’ll be gentle enough."
"Why are you being so nice?" asked Ava.
"You mean why aren’t we being rapacious cads?" asked the second with a sniff.
"What sort of men do you take us for? We respect women and your profession."
"My niece works for the escort’s guild," added the first.
"Nothing dishonorable about that work and don’t let any of those puritanical fools at the temples tell you otherwise. Sex work is work."
"Same as a farmer," agreed the first guard with a firm nod.
"A necessary field of labor. Honourable even, in its own way."
Ava was surprised, but pleased.
She’d found so many people in New Larrin to be so prudish about sex.
Not even a single orgy parade since reaching the city.
It would have been nice to give the guards something to remember her by, but she had places to be and rituals to infiltrate.
She just hoped Ireen’s wand would work.
It hadn’t given so much as a twitch so far.
"Thanks for respecting the work I do," she said with a wink and passed through the gates into the rarified air of the High District.
The wide, nearly empty boulevards were lined with flower planters and decorative hedges.
The gaslights were mounted in ornate brass lamps and the shops were fronted with huge glass windows that afforded views of luxurious merchandise.
No worry about robbers smashing through the windows in the High District, because in addition to the walled community, almost every shop was protected by magic of some kind.
Ava was no witch, but she could feel the sorcery in the air like a pressure between her eyes.
Wards and guardian spirits and magical booby traps awaiting anyone foolish enough to try to rob the richest merchants in New Larrin.
There were a few pedestrians about.
They all seemed to be servants bustling to-and-fro with packages, walking dogs, or waiting for their employers to finish at the tavern to drive them home in their carriage.
Ava could not help but notice that more than a few wore slave collars or bracelets.
Magical irons that would control them and punish them if they disobeyed.
Slavery was rarely talked about in polite society, or seen in the other districts, but here in the High District, the rich and powerful had whatever they wanted.
Ava shook her head in dismay as a beautiful woman approached her in an outfit obviously chosen for its revealing nature.
Her breasts were practically exposed and her long, slender neck was banded with an iron collar.
The woman was smiling slightly and had the dulled expression of someone beneath a charm.
Ava wanted to grab the woman and shake her awake, but she had no idea of why she wore the collar.
Many slaves were indentured voluntarily to pay off debts or received some favor from the nobility.
And some people went in willingly!
The Society of Amazons had a mission somewhere in the temple district, and were known to vigorously recruit.
Ava watched the woman strut sensually past with two bags of parcels from a lingerie shop, the gem in her collar glowing with magical force.
Yes, there was much to love about New Larrin.
But there was so much that should be better too.
And that was why Ava was a reporter.
To change things for the better, no matter what!
Fired with new purpose, Ava hurried on and through the streets.
The shops, restaurants, and inns were confined to the first few streets of the High District, for the majority of it was given over to the enormous houses of the rich and powerful.
The smallest were simply mansions.
The finest houses in any other neighborhood of New Larrin would look pauperish here in the High District.
Most were walled compounds, the largest towering stone citadels with walls and expansive gardens occupying entire city blocks.
Occasionally Ava paused, hairs tingling between her shoulders with the sense of being watched.
Once or twice she thought she saw a shadowy figure duck out sight.
Was she being followed?
But who would?
No one knew she was here...
Such worries were dismissed as Ava started into this most extravagant of areas within the district, and she began to feel the wand vibrating in her cloak.
She grasped it and held it tightly.
The vibrations seemed to resonate up her arm and into her core, stirring her desire.
"Quiet, you," she whispered to her rising libido.
She blamed Ireen for testing out the wand back at her shop and she blamed those hunky guards for being so reasonable.
The wand’s vibrations became more insistent the closer Ava walked towards the northern end of the district.
Following the growing vibrations, she veered in the direction of a particularly impressive palace.
She knew those peaked turrets and stained-glass windows from the front pages of the Morning Wood’s competitors.
The palace belonged to the Countess Vargara, a striking woman with a reputation for charity for children.
Hardly a week passed when the countess wasn’t being written up in the more respectable papers with glowing articles about her largesse.
It always struck Ava as ridiculous, because whatever the countess did for children, she was also a well-known slaveholder with dozens of collared, magically obedient servants.
"So she’s involved too," whispered Ava.
She kept a distance from the main gate as several carriages rolled up, checked by footmen in purple uniforms before being waved through.
It seemed Countess Vargara was holding a party for her wealthy friends.
Ava smiled.
It was all coming together.
She walked along the dark stone walls topped with iron spikes that surrounded the foreboding property.
The small castle within was lit with pink lanterns.
The wand was vibrating wildly in her hand, the buzzing driving Ava a bit mad.
Ludmilla was somewhere within that castle and probably Lady Primwood as well.
Ava just had to find a way inside.
Fortunately, Ava had been thinking about this since she’d realized she’d been going to the High District, and now that she knew Countess Vargaras was involved, it was going to be even easier.
It didn’t take her long to find a servant entrance.
After all, no one with money wanted the help coming in the front.
A dark door, almost invisible against the stone of the wall, stood before her, a small bell hanging beside it.
Smiling, Ava reached up and gave it a ring.
The sound echoed in the dark streets, and after a time, the door creaked open.
A man in a servant’s garb but a build that looked more suited to cracking coconuts with his bare hands looked down at her.
"Yesssss?" he said.
"Hello," Ava said. "My name is uh... Gisele Real. I’ve come to speak to Countess Vargara about s-support for orphans in the westlands!"
With all the speed of a moving glacier the butler raised an eyebrow.
He leaned out of the doorway, looking down the street one way, then the other, then up in case something was clinging to the door jam.
He again looked down at Ava.
"Is thaaaaat riiiiiight?" he said, his voice a rumble.
"Yep!"
"...One moment..."
The butler receded inside and shut the door tight.
Ava rocked on the balls of her feet, glancing about uneasily.
Again she thought she saw someone down the street, but before she could look closer the door reopened, making her jump, and the butler pushed his head out once more.
"Thissss waaaay," he said, stepping aside.
Ava pumped her fist.
Success!
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