The wind runner book 10.., p.50
The Wind Runner: Book 10 (The Wandering Inn), page 50
“Probably. But that’s not how Goblins mine. Not how he mined.”
The others fell silent. Apista flew into the kitchen and inspected some bacon grease before resuming her patrol, checking on if anything had changed in her ‘hive’, the inn, while she’d slept. As the sole proper bee, she had to make sure nothing had penetrated the hive and was lurking there. Like…hive beetles. Or spiders. She hated spiders.
“Okay then. I guess that’s our plan for today! Lyonette, the inn’s all yours. Now, let’s get some plates and dig in before the adventurers come by! There’ll probably be at least a few groups. Griffon Hunt’s started eating here every morning, plus the other teams come by to relax…”
Erin clapped her hands. Lyonette helped her get plates, smiling.
“They come here for the good food. You should be happy.”
“Yeah, but all they do is eat, argue, and take turns escorting the door.”
“Well, they are relaxing after the dungeon.”
“Adventurers relaxing means one of them starts causing trouble at some point. Remember when they tried playing baseball again? Right outside the inn? They cracked two windows.”
“Well, they paid for them. And today Ishkr will be here, not Drassi. I can trust him. I’ll be back soon enough, Erin. I’d let someone else get the supplies, but I have other business…”
“Ooh. While you’re at it, can you get me some more eggs? They’re cheap, but I, uh, used them for breakfast. And I want to make some more egg-based dishes when I get back from Pallass. Egg drop soup. I don’t quite know how to make it, but I assume you have egg and soup and there’s dropping involved…”
Lyonette sighed, but Apista felt the hint of amusement from her. The bee flew down as Lyonette filled a bowl with water and sugar. Erin eyed the bee greedily drinking up the syrup before Lyonette had even carried it back into the common room.
“You sure Apista’s fine with just that? I thought she needed more.”
“Well, I haven’t let her out of the inn for fear she’ll get attacked by birds, but there are the flowers.”
Lyonette waved towards the little yellow flowers blooming in the planters near the windows. Erin stared at them.
“Oh. Right. I forgot! We should make some more Faerie Flower drinks, Lyonette.”
The [Princess] shuddered.
“They’re not exactly social drinks, Erin.”
“No…but they are good for some people. Sometimes. And Halrac and Ilvriss ask me if I have more now and then. Say, could you get more honey as well?”
Lyonette paused.
“From the Ashfire Bee hive? I haven’t gone back there in a while. I could…try.”
The last time she’d harvested honey from them had been in the winter, but she’d stopped with the spring rains and the uptick in monsters. Now, the Floodplains were muddy, but some of the muck was turning into proper soil again. And there were plants blooming, the last of the undead had finally been taken care of…it was beginning to be a proper spring. Erin hesitated.
“I mean, I know it’s dangerous, but your smoke trick’s worked before, right? And honey is a money earner.”
“True. I’ll try it. After I see Krshia. Oh—and I’ll visit the Players of Celum and see why they haven’t dropped by yet.”
“Would you? It totally slipped my mind. Well, not slipped my mind, but every time I go through to Celum, Octavia’s bugged me about new potion ideas and helping her burn down this other guy’s shop…”
The two chatted as Apista drank the precious water and sugar up. She knew it was exactly what she needed to survive. But Erin was right. Water and sugar were one thing, but a bee lived on honey. And Apista was predisposed to another thing too.
Nectar. As she was not a queen who lived to lay brood, she was instinctively motivated towards the little flowers. So as the other adventurers came down the stairs, Numbtongue and Mrsha fought for a rasher of bacon, and Erin and Lyonette circled the inn, the Ashfire Bee flew up and towards the little planters near the windows. There she landed and inspected the flowers.
They were small and yellow. Vibrant, like little coins of gold sprouting from the soil. Ironic, since that was how Erin had first received them. Fake gold coins, a faerie’s trick payment. But she’d taken the flowers and planted them, and they’d bloomed into flowers that were very useful and very magical.
One sip of the nectar could make you see things. Mix it with alcohol and you’d see the past. Or a past that might have been or…just dream. Lyonette had found you could burn the flowers too. Dried and burned, they created an incense that put the Ashfire Bee hive to sleep and allowed her to collect honey. The flowers probably had other uses too, but they were as yet still growing and multiplying, and Erin wanted a veritable garden first.
A certain little Gnoll and Apista were responsible for the much larger body of flowers in the planters along the windowsill. Encouraged by their efforts, the flowers had multiplied from three boxes of scattered blooms in the soil to six full boxes, and a seventh one was on the way once Lyonette or Erin transplanted the delicate flowers. To Apista, it was a bounty of nectar.
And yet, still the bee hesitated. Bees had short memories in some regards, but in others? They could navigate back to a patch of flowers pollinated years ago. Because while individual bees died, a hive remembered. And Apista, short though her life had been, knew these flowers.
She knew what would happen next. But it wasn’t a strictly negative experience, one that would warn her away, like getting grabbed by the green thing or accidentally getting smacked by Mrsha while the Gnoll was asleep. It was something else. And because Apista had no concept of it, because she was programmed to seek the nectar in the little flowers, and because part of her wanted to, she drew closer. Her proboscis lowered, and she delicately inserted it into the bud of the first flower.
Bee fact. Regular Earth bees could forage as many as six miles outside of their hive. Ashfire Bees, the colossi of the bee families in this world, could forage for as many as twenty miles outside their hives, and further still if need be. They had to, as smaller flowers were far too tiny to provide them with enough nectar.
In that sense, the six beds of Faerie Flowers were just a warm-up for the Ashfire Bee. In another?
Apista drank. And the world slowed ddddddoooooooowwwwwnnnnnnnnnnn…………
Bees didn’t think like people. But they did think. And Apista was thinking about thinking, which was a novel experience for any bee. The idea of thought was to her like this strange thing. You could think? About thinking? That was…like…
Thought. Apista raised her head. Yellow flowers looked at her. But from a different angle, they looked like blooming gold. Or gold that bloomed through a flower. Maybe they were gold and the flowers were the illusion. Maybe this window was—
Apista ran into the window. Okay, maybe it wasn’t an illusion. The Ashfire Bee crawled up the window. Wow. This hard stuff was really hard. And see-through. She could see right through it, but it was there. Outside, the sky glowed with dawn light. Apista wondered if it had anything to say. She fanned her wings.
She could see—
—the shape of—
—tomorrow—
And it was green. With pink polka dots.
Apista tripped. And when bees tripped, they tripped hard.
——
“Huh. You know, I never realized it, but what does Apista do all day when you’re working, Lyonette?”
Erin was about to leave for her trip to Pallass when she spotted the Ashfire Bee. It was crawling all over the window where the Faerie Flowers were blooming. Erin assumed it was good for the little things, for all Apista could have squashed them. But they really had been growing nicely.
Lyonette looked up from learning a new word Mrsha had invented. A tap on the nose and quick circle meant ‘tracking’. An important word for Gnolls. She was wondering if there was a way to write all this down for other people. A book, maybe?
She looked up and blinked at Apista. Lyonette frowned, then shrugged, unconcerned.
“All day? Mostly that. She always gets like this after eating. Quiet. Some days, she just sits on the flower beds for hours. I guess I should let her out more, but I feel like she’s pretty happy like this.”
She got up and walked over to Apista, picking the bee off the window. Apista didn’t resist. Erin eyed Apista as Mrsha tried to teach her the new word.
“…Is she trying to fly upside down?”
“I think so?”
To Lyonette, Apista’s mind was a distant thing. She could sense if the bee was hungry, in pain, or so on thanks to their [Lesser Bond] skill, but that was about it. Right now, she was getting…something approaching static from Apista’s mind. It happened surprisingly often. Lyonette assumed Apista just wasn’t thinking that much.
“Well, that’s bees for you. Must be nice. That’s a nice word, Mrsha! Tracking. Got it! I’ll remember. And you can ‘track’ me down if I’m late. I’m off to Pallass! See ya!”
Erin waved at the others and walked through the magic door. Numbtongue was already gone for the day. That just left Lyonette, the adventurers who’d come downstairs and into the inn, and the hired help. Mrsha padded over to Ishkr and tugged on his leg. She was determined to teach everyone her new word.
“Mrsha, don’t—well, okay. But don’t bother Ishkr if he’s busy, got it?”
Lyonette sighed as the Gnoll [Waiter] obligingly bent down to learn Mrsha’s word. Some of the other adventurers looked up; they were playing dice and waiting to change places with the Halfseekers, who were lugging the door north.
“—Not even at Celum yet. Why don’t we hire a carriage and speed the process?”
Halrac was grunting to Dawil. The Dwarf shrugged as he rolled some dice in a cup.
“You in a hurry, lad?”
“I’m older than you are.”
“And I’m a Dwarf. I get to call Humans ‘lad’ and ‘lass’. Besides, the slow pace means we can take jobs around the door if we want.”
Halrac grimaced.
“True. Esthelm has hunting missions. It’s just—”
“Too good for Bronze-rank requests?”
The Dwarf grinned, teasingly. The [Scout] almost smiled.
“I was going to say that killing too many animals would hurt their [Hunters]. Roll the dice, will you?”
“I will as soon as we put up some money on this. How’s five coppers sound? Hey, pointy ears! You want to get on this? And no cheating like last time, or…”
All seemed well. Lyonette looked at Ishkr. He was managing a pair of Gnoll workers today.
“You can handle watching Mrsha for a few hours?”
“Yes, Lyonette. Honored Krshia is busy at work, and I think she will be fine here. One of us can let her run about outside now the undead are gone. Although I think she is content here.”
Ishkr was referring to Mrsha wandering over to Typhenous and Revi. They were talking magic, and the Gnoll was content to listen to them—or sit on Moore’s lap when he was relaxing. Lyonette nodded.
“I’ll be back, then. To Celum first. Remember, every ten minutes and keep—”
“—the door attuned to Numbtongue’s stone. I understand.”
Ishkr patiently nodded. Lyonette smiled sheepishly.
“Thank you!”
She put Apista back on the windowsill. The Ashfire Bee lay there, content with the world, or so Lyonette vaguely felt. The [Princess] shook her head. She stepped over to the magic door, envying Apista’s simple way of being. She on the other hand wasn’t always so happy. Even though Erin had given Lyonette run of the inn, the job wasn’t always easy. Especially when Lyonette thought about money coming and leaving the inn.
True, they were a thousand gold coins richer from the Redfang Goblins’ gift. But the third floor and Bird’s tower were still gone. Adventurers made up their small day-to-day earnings, and the new staff required pay too. Lyonette had big plans, so she needed big business. Which meant the Players of Celum had to come back and start putting on huge shows.
“They’ve been gone for a long time. I thought they’d be chomping at the bit to come back, but they didn’t. Not while Erin was crying, and not even afterwards.”
Lyonette frowned to herself, worried. That probably meant they were putting on performances in Celum. Which was…not ideal. But she had hopes she could convince them to come back to The Wandering Inn. Jasi and Wesle owed Erin a lot.
The instant Lyonette pushed the door open and stepped into Octavia’s shop, the [Alchemist] sprang from behind her counter.
“Lyonette! Just who I was looking for!”
“Not now, Octavia. I’m just coming through.”
“Right, right. But while you’re here, why not stock up on some potions? Stay and chat? Have a stamina potion, on me. This one’s extra sweet! Why don’t you sit, talk about Erin—has she mentioned me at all? I’ve just got this thing going on that—”
“Octavia, please. I don’t have time to talk.”
The [Princess] tried to fend off the dark-skinned Stitch-girl. She gritted her teeth, wishing she could shove Octavia out of the way. But that wasn’t right, was it?
“Come on, Lyonette? We’re pals, aren’t we?”
“I don’t think so?”
“What? You’re breaking my heart, Lyonette! We’ve been the best of friends! You and me, both working with Erin. Buddies, ever since you and Mrsha stayed here during the Face-Eater Moth attack. And friends help friends, right? If you could just…”
Lyonette felt a hand dragging at her. She shook Octavia off, making for the door. She tried to tell herself it was just Octavia being Octavia. No need to get upset.
Be polite. Smile, don’t think of Octavia as a peasant. And don’t kick her even if she shoves another potion bottle in your face.
“If you could just—”
At last, Lyonette slammed the door to Octavia’s shop. She shook her head. Octavia. That [Alchemist] had a way of getting on people’s nerves. She was always, always trying to get Lyonette or Erin or even Mrsha to do something.
“Not once have I walked through there without Octavia trying to get me to sit and listen to her idea for twenty minutes. Or spend a dozen gold pieces to ‘fund’ her.”
Lyonette grumbled to herself. She stomped away from the shop and only then noticed that part of the boarded-up exterior of Stitchworks was slightly charred. Lyonette stopped, frowning at the exterior.
Ever since one of Erin’s plans had ended up with the front of Octavia’s shop getting knocked in, it had been boarded up. It didn’t exactly make the shop look appealing, but the [Alchemist] hadn’t bothered to fix it. Only, it looked like someone had nearly set fire to the wooden exterior.
From the outside. Lyonette wondered if Octavia had dropped some matches or something. She frowned, hesitated, and then shook her head.
“Probably nothing. And if I go back in, I’ll have to listen to that…that…peasant talk some more.”
The invective slipped out of Lyonette’s mouth before she could stop it. She caught herself, frowning, and then turned and hurried away from the shop, suddenly ashamed. Lyonette walked past a gossiping couple of women, hurried down a street past a man with a cart full of radishes, and towards the base of the Players of Celum. All the while she was thinking to herself, barely noticing the people around her.
Peasants. Wasn’t that what Lyonette used to call them? It felt like a foreign word now. A stupid one to apply to everyone who crossed her path. True, it was somewhat accurate because they weren’t royalty, but—no.
“That was old Lyonette. Old me. I’m not like that. Judgmental. Stupid.”
Lyonette muttered to herself. The man with the wheelbarrow gave her an odd look. Lyonette gave him a strained grin, and he decided to cross the street to the other side. The [Princess] shook her head.
It had just been a slip of the tongue. But it was a good reminder. She couldn’t be old Lyonette. Not bossy, not stuck-up. She had to be nice and friendly, a good [Barmaid], a helpful friend…
Perfect. Meek, unassuming, content to be a [Barmaid]. And that was something Lyonette didn’t enjoy either. She’d loved running Erin’s inn without Erin. Being a host, being in charge.
Being a [Princess]. Pawn had shown her that. She didn’t want to be just in the background, but the old her had been a nightmare. So where was the compromise?
Lyonette shook her head. She felt more and more like the old her, sometimes. It was her [Princess] class reminding her. That was why she’d volunteered to run Erin’s inn while the [Innkeeper] went on a semi-vacation. She’d wanted the job, wanted the power. She had so many ideas…
At last, Lyonette came to the large storehouse that had been converted into the base for the Players of Celum. It was, of course, locked and usually had a pair of hired [Guards] lounging about the front to prevent fans of the Players from breaking in and watching the [Actors] at work.
They weren’t here today. Which was curious. And slightly worrying. Lyonette hesitated and then knocked hard on the door. She waited impatiently for a few seconds, knocked louder, and waited some more.
“Maybe they’re out?”
Lyonette wondered if she should do the Erin thing and push her way into the storehouse. But was that too bold? Too rude? Too much like old Lyonette? Because she wanted to. She knocked a third time, then put her hand on the door’s handle. She was about to yank the door open when someone pushed from inside.
“Whoops!”
The young woman sprang back. She saw an unfamiliar face appear in the doorway. A young man with a painted face. An [Actor]. He wasn’t one Lyonette recognized by name, but she’d seen his face in some of the plays. She blinked at him, and he blinked at her. Then his eyes widened.
“Miss Lyonette?”
“Uh—Temile?”
The [Actor] nodded. He pushed the door open and beckoned Lyonette in.
“Come in, come in! I didn’t expect to see you today! Apologies—we were practicing and we barely heard—is Miss Erin alright? Is the inn open at last?”
Lyonette stepped into the storehouse and looked around. The Players of Celum had bought the place with the first of their earnings and turned it into a miniature theatre and dressing room. There were wigs, costumes, fake weapons, a stage to practice on and seats for the ‘veteran’ [Actors] to critique the newbies, a place for Emme and the [Writers] to come up with new material or alter Erin’s plays, and so on. It was a bustling place, or it had been the other two times Lyonette had visited it.
