Remy was walking down the second-floor hallway of the Guild safehouse two hours later when he suddenly heard his name being hissed from somewhere behind him. He turned around and looked to see where the voice was coming from. He saw Emil's head poking out of his bedroom.
"Remy! C'mere!" he whispered, beckoning for his friend to join him.
Remy went over to Emil and said, "What's goin' on, Emil?"
Emil looked both ways down the hall and grabbed Remy's arm, pulling him into the room. "Shhhh! Get in here!"
As Emil shut the door, Remy sat down. "Emil, what is it? Why all de secrecy? What is goin' on?"
Emil sighed and sat down across from his best friend. "If certain people find out dat I know certain t'ings…I could get dead."
"Huh?!" Remy demanded, shaking his head in confusion.
Emil took a deep breath and let it out slowly, attempting to collect his thoughts. "Okay," he said. "From de beginnin'. Dis mornin' I had a nice little talk wit' Gris, durin' which I didn' say a single t'ing to make him mad, an' he was hardly civil."
Remy smiled. "You'll never be his favorite person, ya know."
"Oui, dat's pretty much what Theoren said. Anyway, awhile later, Gris an' Fifolet went out for awhile, when dey came back, I hid in de closet an' listened to what dey were sayin'. When dey came up here an' were talkin' to Questa, dey didn' shut de door all de way. Needless to say I heard almost everyt'ing dey said. An' if dey find out, I'm dead."
Remy shook his head. "If it's not your mouth getting ya in trouble, it's somet'ing else. So, what were dey sayin'?"
"Among de t'ings dey were sayin' bout us an' de unification, dey robbed dat jewelry store downtown dat sells uncut gems. An' killed de two store employees in de process." Emil explained.
Remy sighed. Like the rest of the thieves, he didn't like the way the assassins did things. He thought they could have at least just tied up the employees…there was no need to kill them. But he was more interested in the other things Emil had mentioned. "What'd dey say 'bout us? An' de unification?"
"In a nutshell, dey said dey were only goin' along wit' de unification b'cause Bel said so. Dey also said dey weren' gon' be able to pull it off much longer without hurtin' someone, namely me. Gris said dat he'd take care of me, an' dat if you tried to stop him, he'd take care of you too, b'cause he says you don' have any control over de assassins."
Remy sighed again. "What does he t'ink, I asked for all dis? Unfortunately, I'm stuck here bein' Guild patriarch. Not b'cause I want to be, but because de job was given to me an' even de vote of confidence couldn' get me out of it."
Emil looked at Remy, his normally sparkly blue eyes swimming with concern and worry. "You do b'lieve me, don' you?"
Remy frowned. "Of course I do. You've never lied to me in de entire time we've known each other, why wouldn' I b'lieve you?"
Emil smiled. "True. But what if de others don'?"
"Dey will, but we're not gon' tell dem 'bout it yet. It doesn' really concern dem at dis time. Jus' watch yourself, okay? Whatever you do, don' piss off Gris, 'specially if I'm not around to bail you out of it." Remy replied, getting up to leave. He paused at the door and looked at his friend. "Don' worry, Emil."
Emil raised his eyebrows. "Ha! Dat's easy for you to say. You're not de one havin' your life threatened by a six-foot-five voodoo master. Next t'ing I know, I'm gon' wake up some mornin' an' find out he's stickin' pins in a doll dat looks mysteriously like me!"
Remy just grinned and walked down the hall to his own room, thinking about the information Emil had told him, and picturing Gris-Gris sticking pins in a voodoo doll of Emil with a crazed lunatic look on his face. His laughter got the best of him and he was still chuckling over the mental imagery when he went to bed that night.
The next morning, Claude and Emil were sitting at the kitchen table, eating toast and cereal, when Fifolet entered the room. He nodded slightly at the two thieves and went over to open the fridge. Once his back was turned to them, Emil crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, making Claude laugh and choke on his toast.
Fifolet turned around at the sound and Claude was instantly serious, with an innocent expression on his face. He was turning red from the strain of trying not to laugh in the assassin's face, and he couldn't look either one of them directly or he'd lose it. Emil just sat there, placidly eating his breakfast like nothing was out of the ordinary.
Fifolet took the yogurt he had gotten from the fridge, and left the room, giving Claude a weird look as he passed. The second the kitchen door shut behind him, Claude burst out laughing…and promptly fell off his chair. He sat on the floor laughing hysterically until he felt that if he laughed any more he was going to come apart at the seams.
Claude got back up on his chair and faced Emil, still chuckling. "You are bad! Don' do dat!"
Emil gave an evil grin and raised on eyebrow. "Remy's got de eyes, I got de antics. Is it any wonder we're friends?"
Claude just shook his head. "You're gon' be de end of somebody…"
"I don' like dose t'ieves, Gris." Fifolet said, joining his friend in the living room.
Gris-Gris raised his eyebrows. "Lapin again?"
"No, actually, it was Claude. He was laughin' at me in de kitchen a few minutes ago but he tried to hide it. Not too successfully, I might add." Fifolet replied.
Gris sighed. "Dis unification is gon' be de end of de assassins. I don' know how much longer we're gon' be able to take dis crap from dem. I don' like bein' made a fool of, an' I know de rest of you don' either."
Fifolet was silent for a few moments and then his dark eyes widened with an evil gleam. He smiled wickedly at Gris and said,
"Go get Questa. I have an idea. Dose stupid t'ieves need to be taught a lesson, an' I t'ink I know jus' how to teach 'em."
"I like where dis is goin'…" Gris said, returning the smile and getting up to go find their partner in crime.