It was clear that something had happened here--something messy and damaging. The fountain itself still wasn't running, but the white cobblestones around it looked almost scorched, and they were cracked and uprooted, and she felt a shot of nerves.
As she came closer to the fountain, she noticed something odd--a depression in the rim, one shaped to fit a signet ring.
One shaped to fit hers.
She pressed it in, and heard a soft "click," and the bricks near her feet shifted and opened, revealing a stairway that curved down and into the dark. Casablanca took a deep, steadying breath, and she stepped onto the staircase, and as soon as she did, a glittering golden light appeared, guiding her forward. The Code's aid, unquestionably, and that made her feel better as she descended into the darkness. It was clearly below the fountain, and she could see pipes running along the "ceiling"--they looked damaged and worn, and she added fixing them to a sort of mental checklist, because it would be nice to have the fountain flowing again.
The walk was short; before long, Casablanca found herself in an open cavern with pipes lining the walls, cracked and battered by some unseen force that had torn through this place. And there, floating over a pool fi sickly, dirty-looking water, was the Code piece.
Casablanca took a deep breath, and closed her eyes, and extended her hand--she let the magic flow between her and it, and waited.
"Roger, Roger, Roger," Astrid sighed. She rested her cheek against her fist, leaning back in her chair and twirling a cigarette holder between her fingers. "Didn't I welcome you to my city? Didn't I give you a place here, with open arms? Have I not been kind and generous to you?"
"You have been, Grand Dame," the man that must be Roger said. He was skinny, dressed in a suit that had clearly seen better days, and being held in place by two very large, very frightening-looking men. "This is surely just a misunderstanding--"
"A misunderstanding." Astrid stood up, and sauntered over to the restrained man, tapping the end of her cigarette holder under his chin and tilting his head so he was looking her in the eyes. "It was a misunderstanding that my boys caught you trying to break into this very lounge after hours? Please tell me, Roger, what have we misunderstood?"
"You--Grand Dame, I--it was a mistake--" Roger stammered.
"Oh, a mistake, now! First a misunderstanding, now a mistake." Astrid sighed, and she flicked the cigarette holder under his chin, making him wince, and then she turned away, sauntering over to the great window that gave her a view of the fountain plaza below, bustling with people. "Roger, dearest, you've come to my city. And in my city, we have rules. And do you know what the first rule of Casablanca is?" She glanced over her shoulder. He made a pathetic little whimpering noise, and she smiled.
"The first rule of Casablanca is don't ******** with Astrid."
Casablanca came back to herself in an instant, and she shivered. But the room looked repaired, and the Code looked healthy again, and that was enough for her. The water, too, was different--clear, and almost....iridescent.
And she swore she heard it rushing in the pipes.
She jogged back the way she came, and when she returned to the surface, she gasped.
The fountain was flowing again.
[wc: 653 words]
