Fae and fare, p.30
Fae and Fare, page 30
part #2 of The Wandering Inn Series
“What is this?”
Relc sniffed suspiciously at the round object Erin handed him. It was a hamburger.
An honest-to-god, real hamburger. Complete with a bun, mayonnaise on the side of the plate, and ketchup. Or catsup. Erin didn’t mind either word, but catsup always made her think of cat food.
It was easy. Erin had taken the ground beef she’d gotten from Krshia, added some pepper, an egg or two, and then squished it all together and made them into patties. Then she’d fried the burgers on a pan.
She didn’t have a grill, so Erin felt some of the authenticity was lost, but the burgers were made even realer with the addition of a bit of lettuce, a tomato, and cheese. All the ingredients were in Liscor, and cheap, too! Krshia said that while the city imported tomatoes and other vegetables from overseas, they weren’t as popular as other foods. She’d had to get the tomatoes from a fellow Gnoll who specialized in the rarer plants.
But that wasn’t all! Erin had made ketchup from the tomatoes and mayonnaise from the egg yolk and mustard. It was amazing. Amazingly hard to make, that was.
Erin had no idea making ketchup involved boiling tomatoes and adding all kind of complex spices. She still was miffed that mayonnaise used lemon juice and vinegar. But Ryoka had given her various recipes before she’d left, and they worked.
They worked!
“Try it! It’s really good!”
Erin had already sampled her wares, so to speak. She’d made a hamburger, eaten the hamburger, made another cheeseburger, and eaten it too. It was so deliciously good and reminiscent of home she’d actually teared up a bit as she ate.
Relc didn’t seem convinced, but he could smell the grilled meat and he was hungry. He took an experimental bite out of the hamburger and chewed. His eyes went wide.
Klbkch and Olesm got to the plate too late, because Relc had already eaten four hamburgers and Ceria and Selys each had one. Relc happily bit into the burgers as Erin yelled at him for stealing the other’s food and ran into the kitchen for more. Thankfully, she’d made a big batch.
Selys chewed her burger, looking happy. Ceria opened the lid of her hamburger and inspected it.
“It’s quite good! But I’ve never seen a food like this. Did you invent it yourself, Erin?”
“Nope!”
Erin shook her head happily as Olesm and Klbkch took a burger. Relc reached out and she slapped his hand.
“Wait until they eat theirs and then you can have one if they don’t want another. No, Ceria, it’s a popular food from my home.”
“Well, I love it. And it’s so convenient—it would make a great travel food.”
“That’s how people back home eat them! You can just walk around and eat!”
Ceria bit into her hamburger and chewed with her eyes closed. It still slightly bothered Erin to see an Elf—half-elf—eating meat so easily. But she was a fan, and as soon as they’d tried it, so were Klbkch and Olesm.
“You should sell these in the city! If you started on Market Street I’m sure you’d make a ton of money.”
Olesm commented as he took another burger from Erin’s plate and tried dipping it in the mayonnaise. Relc gave him a dirty look. Then Klbkch, Selys, Ceria, and Erin took another, and he threw up his hands and sulked.
There were no more burgers after that, but Erin tried making french fries. They made him so happy that Relc declared that he’d eat at Erin’s inn every night if she kept making the food.
Erin was ecstatic. And the work on her inn was progressing so fast that by the time she’d finished with the french fries, the Workers were dismantling her kitchen around her.
She left what had been her old inn—now only a few floorboards and broken wood—to stare at her new inn, made with shiny wood being coated with some kind of waterproof substance by the Antinium.
And by the time the sun disappeared behind the mountains, the Antinium were done. As promised.
The inn stood tall on the new hill, sides still tacky to the touch. They would be dry by morning according to Pawn, who told Erin not to worry about the damp surroundings. She hadn’t even known that was an issue with the wood varnish, but the Antinium had their own special array of substances.
Erin admired her inn even after the others had left, with full bellies, thanks, and an open invitation to visit tomorrow. Ceria had decided to return to the city with Olesm for one more night, as both were still technically supposed to be recovering.
Her new inn was just as big as the first, which was big. Erin could stand in the common room and turn around and feel the vastness of it. But more importantly from a construction standpoint, this new inn was made mostly with new wood, and it was in a lot better condition than the aged building Erin had found long ago.
The walls and roof were coated with a varnish the Antinium used. It helped protect the wood against the weather, but it also added to the integrity of the building. The nails were copper, and the building was fairy approved. Erin now even had glass windows, complete with shutters to keep the cold out and add privacy. Her kitchen was redone, and now her possessions were organized thanks to Selys’ [Receptionist] skills.
Best of all, and most importantly, the sign over the top of the inn was now painted in bright gold letters that shone when the light touched them. Erin had personally hammered the sign telling people not to kill Goblins into the ground. It was the only lopsided part of the entire affair.
And she had an outhouse. The Antinium dug through the dirt like…well, probably faster than someone with a shovel or a drill.
It was all perfect. Erin spun around in her inn and laughed until she was dizzy. And she was happy. For once she’d turned a disaster into a miracle.
She was happy. She was happy. So happy. But—something was missing.
For a long time Erin searched for it. She looked through the new upstairs, around corners, in the kitchen, under tables and chairs, wondering what it was. She walked back to the empty hill where her inn had once been, staring around, wondering what it was.
And then she realized it as she sat at a table. Erin looked around and didn’t see him. Toren.
Her skeleton still hadn’t returned. Erin had no idea where he was. She climbed up onto her roof and stared around for nearly an hour, ignoring the cold.
“TOREN! WHERE ARE YOU?”
Her voice, amplified by her [Loud Voice] skill, was thunder. Erin heard echoes as her voice bounced off hills. She shouted again and again.
“TOREN!”
She saw no movement, no familiar burning blue eyes. But then Erin heard something.
A faint voice, coming from the much-closer walls of Liscor. A familiar voice echoed as Zevara shouted from the battlements.
“HUMAN! SHUT UP!”
In the end, Erin went to sleep. But she sensed it. Her inn was rebuilt. It was beautiful, remade, redone, better. But it still wasn’t finished. It was missing Toren. Until he was back it wouldn’t be complete.
She wondered…where he was.
[Innkeeper Level 19!]
2.12
Because it was magic, they were able to talk to each other despite being far apart. Over four hundred miles separated the two, but to Lady Magnolia and Teriarch, their conversation felt as if they were sitting side by side.
If he closed his eyes, Teriarch could imagine Magnolia sitting by him. Not the older, distinguished [Lady] of now, but the young girl of then.
Thirty years? Forty? He lost track sometimes. It seemed like it had all passed in the blink of an eye, a single beat of his heart. But now the girl full of laughter and mischief was gone.
In her place was a woman no less than the girl she’d replaced. But she was different. Youth and energy had been overtaken by—well, more energy, but of a different kind. Hopes and dreams became ambitions tempered by practicality. Impulse and instinct became wisdom. Recklessness transcended to grace.
He loved her for it. But she was growing older. That was something neither he nor she could escape. In time, she would die. Not now—not for many years still. Decades, perhaps. But she would die, and he would remain. Unchanging.
It was his nature, and Teriarch felt it weigh more heavily whenever he found someone like Magnolia. A rare mortal with a spark. It was their nature. They brought light and passion to his life, but like sparks and fireflies, they died all too quickly.
Because it was magic, they could speak even from this distance. Because it was his magic, they could speak without fear of eavesdropping, even from the most powerful mages living on the continent. But it still didn’t mean she could be here, in front of him. Magic could do many things, but it was only a means to an end, not an excuse for miracles.
Teriarch harrumphed irritably. But power necessitated safeguards, especially in Reinhart’s case. It would be difficult—even for him—to disable her complex protections and teleport her all the way here. And vice versa. His home was warded with more spells against intrusion than he could remember. No, transport was impossible.
So they talked. Because it was magic, they could hear the emotions in each other’s voice, sense the subtleties of their dialogue. Sometimes, Teriarch wished this were not the case.
“I cannot believe you let her find her way into your little cave and let her go without even asking her name!”
Teriarch winced and adjusted his spell so Reinhart’s voice was less loud in his ears. He spoke irritably into the air, his left eye twitching.
“Do not take that tone with me, Reinhart. I thought she was just some Courier – and an inept one at that. I healed her and gave her a mission. How was I to know it was the girl? Besides, I did ask her name at the end.”
“And I can see it did you a world of good. Well done.”
Some said Magnolia Reinhart, the deadly flower blooming in the north, was a [Lady] of unflappable grace and cunning. But Teriarch had known Magnolia for a long time, and she was far more direct and cutting with her remarks with him.
“She survived. I teleported her back to the city. Besides, your information didn’t help me locate her. I tried to scry her numerous times before and after I met her, to no avail. This is on your head.”
Magnolia’s voice cracked back through the magical spell, making Teriarch wince and wish he could cast a [Silence] spell on her until she calmed down.
“I told you her name, and she told you her name. Ryoka Griffin. If you can’t scry her, it must be your magic that’s at fault. Perhaps she’s warded in some way.”
“No magic could defeat my spells so utterly. No, there must be some trick to her name.”
It was the only explanation Teriarch could think of. Scrying required the exact name of the person he wished to see, or failing that, a piece of clothing or some part of them. He wished he’d kept some of the blood she’d dripped all over his cave, but of course he’d burned it all away.
“She must have lied to me, and to you.”
“How, pray? She doesn’t have any skills—or levels! She’s a girl without a class, Teriarch. Do you know how extraordinary it is that she made it to your cave without any help?”
Teriarch growled.
“I’m well aware. And my abode is not a ‘cave’.”
“Your little hovel, then. Your crack in the side of the mountain. Your little pit where you hoard shiny objects and hide from the world. I am telling you, that girl is important!”
Indignant, Teriarch opened his mouth to retort, but Magnolia rolled right over him, as she’d done so many times in the past.
“I asked you to tell me if she did anything unusual. But only now do you tell me that she threw off the spell you cast to make her deliver your ridiculous letter to Az’kerash.”
“It’s not ridiculous at all. It’s an important message.”
“It’s pointless. And a ring? Is it magical, or merely symbolic?”
“Of course it’s magical.”
Teriarch was somewhat miffed. Who would bother with nonmagical rings? He tried to regain control of the conversation.
“My message is—not as important as why Ryoka Griffin was able to break my spell. Are you sure she has no classes?”
“Very sure. Which is why I asked you to learn more about her.”
Teriarch ground his teeth together angrily. But Reinhart had a point. She always had a point. It was just that he disliked how her pointing things out tended to make it seem as if he was incompetent. He opened his mouth to retort and paused. Something was tugging at the edge of his thoughts. He frowned.
“Hold on. Something is approaching my cave—I mean, my place of residence.”
Teriarch muttered a word, and a picture appeared in his thoughts, depicting the surrounding area of the High Passes. He focused on the image and blinked.
His jaw dropped about three meters.
“I don’t believe it. It’s her.”
“Her? Ryoka?”
“She’s in the High Passes, heading this way.”
“What? Why?”
“How am I supposed to know that? Silence, woman. I have to concentrate.”
Ryoka was running straight through the pass towards his cave. Well, she knew the location, but she wasn’t under attack. Teriarch frowned. Why was that?
Lady Magnolia’s voice shrilled in Teriarch’s mind, making him wince irritably.
“Make sure she gets here alive! You must—”
“Yes, yes. But she doesn’t seem to need my assistance.”
There was something to it. Teriarch could see monsters nearby, but they were moving away from Ryoka. Why?
Teriarch frowned, drew in a deep breath, and coughed. He felt a terrible stinging pain in his nose and nearly gagged as a faint odor assailed his nostrils. He looked around.
“What is that smell?”
“What smell?”
—-
Half a day earlier…
I can’t do this. Dealing with pushy shopkeepers is one thing, but I can’t handle people. I just…never know what to say.
Garia and I took a break from Octavia once I’d pried my potion from her grip. I needed a break, and I also needed to tell her about the Horns of Hammerad.
I’d nearly forgotten she didn’t know. And the worst part was, she started asking me how their journey into the ruins had gone. She was so cheerful, and I wiped the smile right off her face.
I—didn’t know how to say it. I’ve never had to break bad news to anyone. And it was horrible.
She started crying. Garia just sort of folded in on herself and started crying. In the street, I mean. In front of everyone.
What are you supposed to do when someone’s lost someone? What would Erin have done? I just sort of patted Garia on the shoulder and waited for her to stop. But she couldn’t. I stood there, trying to calm her down and—
It took her a long time before she stopped crying. Her face after all that was…not a pretty sight. I gave her a handkerchief—a bandage I kept for injuries, really—and she told me she could find her way back to her inn.
That was it. I watch Garia as she stumbles down the street, eyes red and puffy. Damn it. What was I supposed to do? What was I…
People. It shouldn’t be like this. I shouldn’t have to deal with them. This is what comes of having people who think they know you. If I were alone I wouldn’t have this issue. And the Horns of Hammerad. They—
They shouldn’t have died. Not like that.
Sometimes I just feel so tired. But then I keep going, keep running forwards because that’s all I know how to do. I cling to what I know. Ceria is alive, and I owe it to the others to make sure she’s okay.
Money. Eighty gold pieces. Money for power, security, freedom. I never had to worry about that back home. I wasn’t rich—
Actually, I was. Having a father who counts as a big hitter in both politics and business means that I earned about as much as someone working just above the poverty line as an allowance. And that’s even without counting the things I got as presents.
Not a good thought. But it’s better than thinking of how miserable Garia is right now. Well. At least all of this has one good effect. I’m royally pissed when I walk back into Octavia’s shop, the accurately named Stitchworks.
She brightens up the instant I walk back in. The entire time Garia was upset, I could sense her watching us from the door. I think she was afraid I was going to leave with my potion before she could get another chance to study it.
“Oh, good. You’re back. What was that outside? Bad news for Garia? That’s a real shame; you let me know if there’s anything I can do to help, okay? The girl’s a good customer and I have a bit of a soft spot for her to tell you to truth.”
I just glare at her. Octavia doesn’t miss a beat. She’s ushering me inside in an instant, closing the door and locking it behind her. That doesn’t exactly worry me—if she wants secrecy that’s fine. But if she wants to try to rob me, I’m more than happy to introduce her to my shoe*.
*Yeah, shoe. I got a new pair and ditched the Gnoll boots I was wearing. They’re still tight, but I healed the blisters and at least these ones fit more or less. Damn snow. I hate running in shoes.
“Anyways, I’m sure she’ll feel better after a cry and a bit of a rest. Hot food—a bath—you and I, we’ve still got business to attend to.”
Octavia doesn’t quite point at the potion on my belt, but her eyes gleam with avarice. At least she’s honestly greedy. But it still annoys me.
The stitch-girl spreads her hands on her counter and takes a deep breath. Here comes the pitch.
“Now, I know I insulted you earlier with my offer. Well, I’m prepared to offer you quite a deal. Fifty potions, complete as soon as I brew them. I’ll trade that for…half of your potion, and I’ll even throw in—”
“Shut. Up.”
Gratifyingly, Octavia does. She blinks at me as I rub at my forehead. I try to get my thoughts straight. Why the hell am I back here? Oh yeah.
I point at Octavia, trying to keep my eyes off the stitches on her shoulders in case that’s rude or something.
