Spit and Song (Ustlian Tales Book 2)

by Travis M. Riddle

  They waited. Behind them, the sun had nearly disappeared behind the sea. They heard a rustling inside the home, and after another few moments, the splintered door swung open.

  Zenib stood before them, looking far different than Puk remembered from a few years prior. The centript was now much skinnier, and he was missing two pieces of his carapace near the middle of his body. He had caught the mold. Three of his many arms were also missing, but that was surely job-related.

  The man let out a harsh hiss that Puk interpreted as amusement.

  “Look who it is!” Zenib said in his raspy voice. “How the fuck’d you come to be on my doorstep, Puk?”

  He was genuinely shocked that the man even remembered who he was, let alone his name. “I was in town and thought I’d look you up after the fun times we had,” he said.

  Zenib laughed at this. “No one else could do you a favor in all of Restick?”

  “Not the kind of favor I need, I don’t think,” said Puk.

  Zenib did not need to extend his body to see over Puk’s head. He asked, “Who’s the lady?”

  “My name’s Kali,” she answered for herself. Based on the little she knew about their disreputable new comrade, Puk had expected her to provide an alias.

  The centript clacked his pincers together, a gesture with an unknown meaning to Puk. “Come inside,” he then said, welcoming them into his home.

  Puk shuffled in with Kali close behind. Zenib’s home was as run-down as he would expect. The space was small and cramped with items of varying degrees of uselessness. Over by the window was a table, but there were no chairs for them to sit in, so they stood around it. His shoulders were aching from their journey, even after Kali’s lightening of his burden back at Shiar’s Slumber, so Puk slid his pack down onto the ground while they all spoke.

  Puk wasn’t sure what to say to the man. He awkwardly blew air from his mouth, puttering his lips stupidly, and said, “You look well.”

  The centript guffawed. Or at least made the closest noise possible to a guffaw that a centript’s mouth could make, which was akin to a ceramic plate shattering. He said, “No I don’t. I lost another shell just last week. Bet my fuckin’ head’s next. I can feel it pulsing.”

  Puk wasn’t sure if Zenib was being serious or if his words were an attempt at gallows humor, but either way, it made him uncomfortable. He didn’t know many centripts back home, and had little experience with the infected here in Herrilock.

  “Have you tried that new potion?” Kali piped up. “It’s called noxspring. It’s supposed to be more effective than ranneth. I’ve heard it can reverse some of the effects.”

  Zenib shook his head. “Heard of it, but it ain’t too easy to come by yet,” he said. “Trust me, I’ve been searching the warehouses every couple nights, but I haven’t found any shipments. It’s bein’ sold as soon as it’s comin’ in.”

  “Why don’t you buy some, then?”

  The centript gestured around his decrepit home. “Look at where I live,” he hissed. “This is the shittiest shithole in a whole hive of shitholes. You think I can afford to buy as many bottles as I’d need?”

  “When did you get it?” Puk asked, not knowing if it was rude to ask.

  Zenib did not seem to mind. “Only three months ago,” he replied. Puk heard Kali gasp behind him. The centript chittered then said, “Yeah, it’s workin’ fast on me. Probably some sort of god punishing me for all the shit I’ve done in my life, eh?”

  Neither Puk nor Kali responded. Again, Puk wasn’t sure if Zenib was speaking in earnest or jest.

  “So, what’s this favor?” Zenib asked, moving on. He did not offer them anything to drink, which was not unexpected. Puk had not assumed the man would be a spectacular host. “I don’t have anything for sale at the moment, I’m sorry to say.”

  Puk was grateful Zenib spoke vaguely, however unintentional, keeping Kali in the dark. But the two men knew what he’d been referring to.

  “Not looking to buy,” Puk said, hoping Kali assumed that Zenib had simply meant stolen goods—which, to be fair, had probably been lumped in with the drugs. “We’re trying to get to Myrisih, and I know you’ve got a connection.”

  Zenib laughed again at the prospect. “I do,” he nodded, “but what do two fine folk like yourselves have going on in a place like Myrisih?”

  Puk glanced at Kali, whose gaze had not shifted from Zenib. He wondered what she was thinking.

  He explained that they intended to pick up a job there and would probably need help getting back as well once said job was completed. This piqued the centript’s curiosity.

  “What kind of job?” he asked.

  “Item retrieval.”

  “That’s ambiguous,” said Zenib. “Also sounds like a fancier way of saying ‘stealing.’ I know all about stealing, friend. I also know all the ways to dress it up to make it sound nice.”

  “Whatever you wanna call it.”

  Kali remained silent, watching the two interact.

  “I wanna get in on it,” Zenib then said.

  Dammit.

  Before Puk could respond, Kali said, “We’re not looking for a third. Sorry.”

  This elicited another plate-shattering laugh from the man. He said, “I don’t want to be a third. I just want a percentage of the take. In exchange for fast, safe passage to and from Myrisih.”

  “What do you think your services are worth?”

  “A thousand crescents,” Zenib answered without missing a beat.

  Kali laughed now. “And why would they be worth that much?”

  Zenib scuttled around Puk to address Kali directly. “Have you ever been to Myrisih, girl?” She shook her head. “Thought so. It’s not easy to get in, I can assure you. The process of gaining a passbook to enter can sometimes take over a year, but I know the guy who doles ’em out.”

  “I’m sure we’d have no trouble finding someone else in town with a passbook.”

  “Probably not,” Zenib agreed, “but they’d price you same as me. Maybe even more. I’m being generous because Puk is a friend.”

  Did I really call him my friend before? Are we friends?

  “Still, a thousand crescents sounds steep,” Kali said. Puk admired her stubbornness.

  “You’ll need me to bring you there and back, then again when you retrieve your item, right? That’s gonna take time. Myrisih only opens its port every few days, to ensure they can properly screen everyone coming in and out. Which means once we get there, we might have to stay for at least a couple days. This is all time that could be spent makin’ money on other jobs.”

  “A thousand crescents to sit on your ass and wait sounds pretty nice.”

  “Don’t it?” Zenib clicked.

  The haggler in her was coming out. She countered with, “We’ll give you five-hundred.”

  “I oughta ask you both to leave after an insult like that,” said Zenib. “It’ll cost you a thousand. If that don’t seem fair, you’re welcome to find someone else to ferry you.”

  “Look, let’s make this work,” Puk interjected. He didn’t want to piss off Zenib, and Kali was about to blow the whole operation for them. He had no other connections in town. He wouldn’t say he entirely trusted Zenib, but he definitely had no trust in anybody else they could potentially hire. A modicum of trust was better than none at all.

  Kali shot him an irritable look for interrupting her negotiation.

  “Seven hundred,” she countered.

  Zenib shook his head. He knew he had them on the hook, especially after Puk’s outburst.

  She sighed, realizing the futility of it. “Fine,” she said. “A thousand.”

  “Excellent!” said Zenib. “We can head over there tonight, if you’ll be ready. The port’s open today. Otherwise we’ll need to wait two days.”

  “Tonight is fine, then,” Kali said, not looking to Puk for agreement, though he too did not want to waste any time in Restick. All it would do was cost them money and increase the chances of someone else
snatching up the job before they arrived.

  “Meet me at the bone dock half past midnight,” Zenib told them. “From there, I’ll bring you over to my boat and we’ll depart. Sound like a plan?”

  They both nodded, then said their farewells and left.

  Outside, the sun had completely disappeared and stars sprinkled the sky. They had several hours to kill before they needed to meet up with Zenib.

  Kali opened her mouth to speak, and Puk was not prepared for the verbal lashing he was set to receive.

  But instead she said, “I have a friend who lives here, over on the west side. I don’t know about you, but I could do with some food before we go out tonight, and I bet she’d be happy to have some guests.”

  Food did sound appealing. It had been a long day. He’d eaten some snacks while they rode throughout the afternoon, but he hadn’t enjoyed a full meal all day due to their early departure from the outpost. He agreed to the idea.

  Kali started toward her friend’s home before Puk shouted out, “Shit, hold on!” He had forgotten his bag inside, and went back to Zenib’s door while she awaited him outside.

  With the door securely shut, Puk grabbed his backpack off the floor and asked Zenib, “I know you said you don’t have any to sell, but do you know how to refine fire-spit?” He was positively itching to ingest the bottle of cordol saliva that rattled around in the bag slung over his shoulder.

  Zenib shook his head. “Nope, that ain’t my business. What the hell are you doing with raw spit?” he asked.

  “Just came upon it,” Puk said, not wanting to reveal the details of their earlier deed. “Please tell me you know someone who can turn it into powder.”

  The centript shook his head again. “Nope. Like I said, not my business.”

  Puk sighed. “Thanks anyway,” he said, then left.

  He and Kali walked together in silence through the city streets, across the still-busy market square, and into the west side.

  - -

  It was a miracle they made it to Restick without any significant hiccups. Kali still wasn’t totally sure how they pulled it off. They were an unlikely duo, and not an especially effective one, but here they were.

  Leg one of their journey complete.

  She was annoyed with Puk for dashing her chances to talk Zenib’s price down, but it was over and done with now. It would’ve been hard to make the centript budge, but she felt she could’ve done it if given more of a chance.

  While they walked, she told Puk, “I think Zenib’s fee should come out of your half.” She had been mustering up the courage to say it for several minutes, and once she had, it was just as awkward as she imagined.

  “Why’s that?” he asked her.

  “I could’ve knocked it down. I know I could. But then you jumped in and basically told him it was fine, don’t worry. But I need every crescent we can squeeze out of this deal.”

  “So do I.”

  “Well, then don’t you think it would’ve been smart to negotiate a bit?”

  “Sure,” Puk nodded, “but I know Zenib’s type. He wasn’t gonna back down. Not a chance. We needed to get the ball rollin’.”

  Kali still believed he would’ve reluctantly accepted her offer of seven-hundred crescents. “I’ll pay half of what I offered him. The rest can come from your share.” She hoped her voice wasn’t shaky. She hated conflict. It was much easier hashing out an agreement in a business context than a personal dispute.

  “Nah,” said Puk bluntly. “That don’t work for me. I’m sorry I stepped on your toes, but for better or worse, we’re in this together now. We should be equal partners in this thing.”

  “But you—”

  “I know, alright? I said I’m sorry. Maybe I shoulda let you keep workin’ on him, but what’s done is done. Can we agree to move past it?” After a few seconds of silence, he said, “In order for this job to go smoothly, we’re gonna need to cooperate with each other, y’know?”

  “That’s my point,” said Kali. “We need to be on the same page. We should’ve discussed this before meeting with Zenib.”

  “You’re right. It was a mistake.” Another brief pause, and then, “Whatever, I’ll pay him. It’s fine.” They continued walking in silence.

  Zenib had been irksome, as she imagined he would be with how cagey Puk described his relationship to the man. Though she couldn’t help but feel slightly bad for him with his affliction. It wasn’t common for the mold to affect someone so quickly and so powerfully. He was probably joking when he’d said he could feel a pulsing in his head, but she imagined he was not far from death, if the disease kept up its pace. Even with the simple ranneth that he could afford, he couldn’t stave it off for long.

  Something was off about Puk, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. She wanted to keep an eye on him since he’d acted strangely at the outpost the night before, and she hadn’t trusted him to venture out into the city on his own. She had some reservations about bringing him to the home of her friend, but they had a lot of time before meeting Zenib again, and they might as well try to get a free meal after the man’s outrageous price for his assistance.

  A childhood friend of hers and Lissia’s named Eva had moved to Restick a decade earlier, marrying an art dealer who worked at the gallery on the western side of the city. Eva once worked as a white mage in the city’s clinic, but was now a stay-at-home mother while her wife pulled in vast amounts of crescents from commissions on her dealings.

  Kali led Puk through the wealthier neighborhood of the city, heading toward the homes at the edge of the arts district. Restick was renowned for its theater as well as its art gallery and wildlife museum. Kali had never been in the theater or museum, and had only checked out the gallery once, with Eva’s invitation.

  Eva and her wife Violet did not live in the richest part of the city (which consisted of a row of mansions along a private beach), but their house was mighty impressive on its own. Puk let out a low whistle as they came to the doorway.

  The home was two stories tall and wide, easily spanning the length of two or three houses in the Hollow, possibly even four on some of the more crowded streets. It was painted a pleasant shade of light pink, and intricate, dizzying patterns were carved into the wood frame of the door. Similar details were sprinkled all over the architecture, appropriately turning the structure into its own piece of art. She was sure that Eva and Violet loved it, but it was a bit garish for Kali’s tastes.

  Her knock was answered quickly by Eva, whose eyes widened at the sight of her old friend.

  “What are you doing here?!” she gasped, beaming. She had dyed her white jeornish hair a shade of pink that matched the outside of her house, which Kali found oddly disturbing.

  “Just passing through,” said Kali. “Wanted to stop by and say hello before we headed out. This is my friend Puk.” He waved and muttered a quick greeting.

  “Come in, come in!” Eva said, ushering them inside. “I was just finishing up dinner. Violet is out working, so it’s just me and the boys.”

  The boys were Caleb and Fitz, twins that she and Violet had adopted a few years back. They had only been five or six years old when Kali last saw them, when she visited to check out the art gallery at Eva’s behest, and they had to be close to ten now.

  Whatever Eva was cooking smelled delicious even to Kali, who generally did not indulge in foods that weren’t covered in sugar. The aroma floated through the hallway of her immaculately-decorated home. Colorful abstract art hung from the walls, small tabletops were adorned with beautifully painted vases filled with beautifully bloomed flowers, all of the furniture was arranged perfectly, and all the colors in the house matched—plus, not a speck of dust in sight. Just looking at the place exhausted Kali. She could not handle the upkeep of such a home. It would destroy her.

  It had been several days since she’d eaten real food, and she was beginning to feel hungry again. While she usually opted for sweets, sometimes a savory meal really hit the spot, so tha
nkfully Eva suggested that they join her and her family for dinner.

  “Are you sure?” Kali asked. “We don’t want to impose,” she said, hopeful that her expression did not betray the fact that they had come over specifically to impose.

  “Of course!” said Eva cheerfully. “I always make too much anyway, and on top of that, I wasn’t expecting Violet to work late, so I have even more. The timing couldn’t be more perfect, really!” She led them around the corner into the kitchen, where they could hear the sizzling of seasoned meat. “I hope you both like fish.”

  “Hell yeah,” Puk blurted out, then apologized.

  “That is quite alright,” Eva chuckled, “but please refrain from coarse language when the boys come down. I accidentally said ‘damn’ around them one time and now they won’t stop saying it. Everything is ‘damn good’ or ‘damn bad’ now. They keep asking us to get a ‘damn dog.’ It’s driving Violet nuts.”

  “Got it,” said Puk. He sniffed the air and asked, “Is that asparagus I smell too?”

  Eva nodded. “You’ve got quite a nose,” she said. “I just bought it fresh from the market today. It came in on a ship from Atlua.”

  Kali wasn’t sure how well asparagus traveled, but she trusted Eva with her ingredients. The woman had always been as fine a chef as she was a white mage.

  It was then a storm came rampaging through the house. Eva’s boys thundered down the stairs and charged into the kitchen, declaring they were ready to eat, before stopping to observe the strange new visitors in their home.