Sunshine Secrets [Finished!]

[Dark]

Mr. Eckles had made a mistake, and Iskra let a fleeting, ugly smile steal over her face. They had him.

Iskra slipped from the alley that had been her home-away-from-home for the last several weeks and trailed after the stumbling youth. The boy was barely fifteen, with a pampered sort of beauty; there was nothing outwardly wrong with him, besides the slightly awkward gate and the haunted look in his eyes. Mr. Eckles had expanded his hunting grounds.

If he had kept strictly to the slums, they wouldn't have ever gotten anything that stuck in court--no one would ever believe that their beloved tutor liked touching little boys and girls; orphans off the street would say anything to earn a crust of bread. But--a noble's brat... that was another matter entirely.

Iskra followed him home, assessing the situation. She didn't think he'd tell anyone; they wouldn't believe him anyway. Taking note of where he lived, she went to find Thalia. The girl was the front of the operation, after all.

[Bee]

Thalia had been snapping a lot of pictures while they were tailing Mr. Eckles, as much as it made her stomach turn, and after a lot of talking they had managed to get the boy they had seen to agree to say something. Evidence procured, they wedged open one of the back windows of the house and snuck in when they were sure Eckles was not around, and waited in his study. It was a dark, masculine room, with large, leatherbound furniture and plum paint.

Eckles took a little bit longer than usual, and they were sitting there for about an hour and half when they finally heard someone enter the house. It wouldn't be long until he came in here; he liked to kick back with a book and take a few puffs of the pipe when he was done with his business for the day.

He entered. Thalia smiled at him from her perch in a plush chair. His eyes widened. Thalia waved.

"Hello, mister. We figured it was about time for us to talk." Her tone was perfectly cheerful and polite, but Eckles looked more and more miserable with every word she spoke, and rightfully so. The blackmail amount was somewhat on the outrageous side, just to see how much they could extort from him, and their evidence was sound.

"If you would just let me explain--"

Thalia gave him her best impression of Mom's disdainful sneer. Apparently it had some effect, because his shoulders sagged and he rubbed his temples. He was going to pay up, and then they were going to turn around and give up his game to the authorities. Perfect.

[Dark]

Mr. Eckles parted with everything currently in his safe--quite a bit more than one would expect of a tutor, revered or not; either he was involved in even more nefarious deeds, or he was trading off some of his toys after he was done with them. Iskra was in favor of the latter.

They'd left the pictures at his request, and assured him with utmost sincerity that there were no copies. And there weren't. They'd taken plenty of pictures and could afford parting with a few; what they had given Mr. Eckles were by no means the best of them.

Iskra took a sick sort of pleasure from knowing that soon Mr. Eckles would truly pay for his crimes.

--

The tip to the police was anonymous. The letter had been typed out on one of those damnable type-writers, and there were no discernable prints, but the pictures were proof enough to get them moving.

[Bee]

Thalia felt very triumphant after they delivered Eckles into the hands of those who could put him to justice (proper justice, anyway; Iskra and Thalia could just as easily have tossed him out a window and had done with it, but Murder Was Bad and this way the kids would get to see that evil wretch burn) and for a few seconds she felt like she could coast for a long time on that high of victory, but after a little bit restlessness set in again and she wished that the gang had more news for them.

Something bigger was what they needed; something better. They had tested their mettle, they had emerged victorious, and now they needed to outdo their immense win with an even bigger win. Unfortunately, they would have to wait for information to come to them before they could pounce.

Thalia hated waiting. It made her all fidgety.

[Dark]

Iskra missed working, but she enjoyed the time she spent on the roof soaking in the sunshine; she had never been so content in her life. It was a wonderful place to nap, and she would be sad to loose it when winter settled in. Even now, the breeze was starting to carry a bit of a nip. It wouldn’t be long now before she would be driven indoors by the cold, but she was stubborn, and the sun would continue to shine for awhile longer. She’d enjoy it for as long as she could.

And then one day the gang came to them with news, and Iskra roused herself from the sun-struck place she had happily resided in for the past few weeks to take a look. The information was golden, and exactly what they had been waiting for, so Iskra went looking for her partner in crime.

“Heh, Thalia. Take a looksie.”

[Bee]

Well, she had wanted something bigger and better, and now they were getting something bigger and better. Apparently their little network of information was extending on its own naturally, like little strawberry shoots that you plant in the corner of your garden but pretty soon they've spread across the entire thing and choked out the rest of the plants.

(Strawberries were delicious, evil little things; they choked little Thalias as easily as they choked plants out of a garden, thanks to her thrice-damned allergy. Why did something so juicy and red have to be death?)

But somewhere down the line she had lost the metaphor. Networks, that was what she was thinking about. Information, that Iskra was showing her. Big information. There was a plot afoot. In the Court of Clubs, to be precise. And apparently they were going to be the ones to stop it.

"So they really want this guy dead, huh?"

[Dark]

"It would look that way." The real question, though, was why someone would order a hit on one of Queen Aderlass' attending Kings. The obvious answer was, of course, political intrigue. From what Iskra knew of the current regime, there were still several positions that hadn't been filled, but that didn't rule out rivalry between two titled kings. Or perhaps it was Queen Aderlass disposing of a problem in such a way as to not cause undue upset at court. Whatever the case, they would have to tread carefully from now on; they had just entered an entirely different playing field.

Iskra shook herself free of her thoughts long enough to remember to pay the girl who had brought them the information, "Smashing job. Give Timmy and the gang our best, ya?" The girl's smile practically glowed, but Iskra figured that it had more to do with the extra coin Iskra had slipped her--the rest would go towards food and clothing for the gang, but delivery girls deserved a little something, now didn't they--rather than the praise.

[Bee]

This was going to require more investigating, of course. They were gonna have to figure out why someone would want the King dead, and then figure out a way to hunt down everyone involved with the plot and take care of them. One way or another. Somehow.

"So it looks like they have people around the Capital City and in the Court itself." She frowned. She didn't like the idea of this becoming a huge deal and actually having to get other people involved and stuff. She really didn't know all that many Clubs.

Well, she was related to Queen Aderlass the same way she was related to Queen Rai, she supposed--which was to say, not at all, except through Six Degrees of Who Slept With My Moms--but she didn't have any real connection that could be worked in any meaningful way. "Where should we start?"

[Dark]

"From the ground up," Iskra replied, promptly. They needed more information before they got in any further: they needed to know who the players were, the stakes, and have in place a well-crafted exit strategy if things took an abrupt turn for the worst. Which meant they needed to acquaint themselves with the layout and inner workings of the court.

"Servants and guards are always a good place ta start collectin' information; servants love ta gossip, and guards like ta show off," Iskra mused. They would stretch out their feelers slowly, and see what it netted them; everyone always underestimated the help, and they were sure to be in the possession of tantalizing, fragmented bits of information. Pieced together, the collective could know something very valuable.

They'd have to tread lightly, to be sure. The repercussions for meddling in courtly affairs could be dire. But it was a thrilling challenge, all the same.

"Let's be doing this."