Cang’s ears perk up at the mention of money. “Surely you mean the copper you stole from us, under chemical affliction.”
Shyan spits. “Nonsense. She probably spent it all on this wagon.”
“It is a nice wagon,” Fassn says.
“No,” the alchemist says through gritted teeth. “I had the wagon before. Also, I think my nose is broken.”
Cang pushes his new hat up so he can fix her with his most menacing stare. “Then where, praytell, is our money?”
The alchemist nods for him to come closer. He leans in and she whispers into his ear. His brow furrows as the others draw near.
“Well, what’d she say?” Fassn asks.
“Nothing,” Cang replies. “She just made some ridiculous sounds.”
“You’re not helping your case here, lady,” Shyan says. She raises the pommel of her weapon, as though to offer the alchemist another taste.
“Okay, wait, wait,” she says. “Damn, you guys are smart. What if I take you to my buyer? He carries way more cash than me; hell, he’ll even cover the cost of what I stole.” Her eyes bulge. “Er, rather, the cost of our previous transaction. What do you say?”