Roofrats 13

Instead Weft pointed out the newest public art installation, which he said had been commissioned by some obscure-sounding civic department from an artist called Chauhuim Sculptor.

Constructed from several different metals, it looked like it took some work to keep clean. The sculpture was semi-abstract, reminiscent of crescent moon, leaping fish, bow wave or all three.

To Weft, on the other hand, it brought to mind a particularly heady session of moonlight hide-and-seek, which had definitely not been a game (at least, not for the other guy). He kept this recollection to himself.

"Is it permitted to climb things like that?" Nico asked out of general interest.

"Not... if anyone's watching. Anyway, you would need to mind out for the sharp crest on the top. Or so I'm told." He was looking up at it with a suggestion of a smirk.

"Yeah, suuure." Nico smiled, looking from Weft to the structure again. She rather liked the sense of movement and energy in the shapes.

Resisting the urge to knock it to find out what it sounded like, she said, "Looking at things from unplanned perspectives is something I find interesting."

"Like rolling on your back and looking at clouds, that kind of thing?" asked Weft, briefly eyeing her.

"Mh, more like climbing up a mountain and looking at them from above. Or stopping right below the cloud layer, when the underside seems like a solid ceiling over your head."

"Oh." Weft had always thought clouds were solid. Not to mention higher than mountains. He looked into middle distance, puzzled.

By way of demonstration, Nico made a handstand, which gave her a rather unusual perspective to watch a bird proving Weft right by alighting on the statue and relieving itself.

Weft chuckled. "Watch out, you've lost your fabulous prize."

The flashy curved dagger had slithered out of Nico's belt while inverted.

"Aw, can't have that." She flipped herself upright and picked up the weapon in the same motion. "That should be good for a bit of change at least. When is the next trading day?" The weekdays changing order was confusing her.

"Tomorrow," said Weft. Today was a work day. It made perfect sense to the natives and confused visitors no end. Fortunately, of course, certain services including restaurants stayed open on most days.

Nico didn't seem particularly happy. The damn thing was a bit flashy for her taste, and she suspected it might get her into trouble. She put the dagger away out of sight again and shrugged.
"Well, could be worse."

"It means you have a free evening, at least," Weft said. "And there's plenty of stuff to do..." He suggested a range of entertainments and shows, ranging from the likes of boxing and cockfighting to dance shows and musical theatre. Good family-friendly fun.

"Musical theatre sounds interesting, unless it's a tragedy." She probably would not have listed cockfighting at least as family-friendly, so it was just as well that was left unspoken.

"Ah, I can't stand sad endings!" Weft agreed.

Music spilled out across the boardwalk, as always. Red and blue paper lanterns were lit, as always. Weft had come here many times. They wandered along for a while until coming across a billboard Nico found interesting.

After going over and speaking to the girl on the door, Weft giggled conspiratorially and said "I talked them into letting us in for free."

"Anything for my monastic friends!" called the young lady behind him. "My friends, the monks!" she repeated more loudly so that passers-by could be sure to take note.

"We did the family a service in the past," Weft added.

"Thank you. Do I want to know details?"

Nico refrained from pointing out to the girl that she definitely was not a monk.

"I'm not sure, but I don't know anything about tax laws or insurance, so I'm not the best one to explain it to you."

The girl insisted a cloth bag of snacks into Nico's hands. "You have fun now!" she said. The snacks were savoury, not fish-flavoured, and were the texture of fudge - the whole package apparently being designed with a view to not disturbing other theatregoers with unwanted noise.

The show opened on a city boy with a spunky personality and protect-me eyes, who decided to investigate his aloof and unfriendly neighbour after hearing rumours that she was a pirate who swashbuckled the city's shipping at nights. He sneaked into her downstairs flat and hid in her wardrobe, with hilarious consequences.

After some further misunderstandings, intermittently explained by a whisper from Weft, it turned out that the neighbour was really an undercover customs detective with a grudge against pirates and a hidden softer side.

There followed bluffs, disguises, kidnappings, rescues, choreographed cutlasses and lots and lots of spunky banter, until at last the villains were in custody, the handily handbag-sized pouch of rare spices was recovered and the leading characters were left in each other's arms. It was certainly a happy ending unless you were a pirate.

Nico followed the play with arrested attention. She couldn't follow the plot in detail, but some lines would stick.

After it was over, she lingered a bit to avoid the thickest crowd, humming one of the catchier tunes under her breath and, once they walked out of the theatre, skipping a little.

"Weft, thanks a lot! Can I invite you to a snack for supper in turn?"

"Um... prm." Weft's cheeks were a little pink. "It's just, there are some prohibitions about accepting gifts; it's a bit complicated to explain. But I'd love to sit with you if you're eating, anyway," he said, hoping his babbling hadn't been too noticeable.

Nico looked at him a bit dubiously for a moment. He wasn't still bothered about the 'flirting' question earlier, was he? Oh, considering his answer just now, probably not. With a shrug she returned to smiling, then stretched and answered, "I guess I'll pick up something on the way."