“Hey there,” he greeted the band. “I was wonderin’ where a guy might buy some stuff around here.” It was a silly question, but they had not seen any traditional marketplace in Pontequest; the town consisted of the tents, the storage facilities, work rooms, and the abandoned ship bow. The place didn’t make any damn sense. He internally cursed it yet again.
Everyone in the group simultaneously cast him a suspicious look.
“Why do you want to buy something?” one of the faif women asked him.
“To have it,” he answered.
Most did not find his response amusing or adequate, but one woman told him, “It depends on what you are looking for.”
Prying simple, normal information out of this town was harder than getting Pillbug to come down on his spit prices.
“I want food,” he said. “Just something to snack on. Get me through the day.”
There was uncomfortable silence for a few moments as the group considered his inquiry.
What the fuck is wrong with these idiots? he wondered. Surely a set of people dedicated to the exchange of goods would want to sell a visitor stuff to make a few crescents.
Finally, the seemingly friendliest woman (which was still a stretch) said, “Nidra can sell you something. She lives in the tent closest to the bonfire on its north side.”
Puk thanked the woman despite not having a clue which direction was north. Luckily, Kali was able to assist him with that minor detail.
While they walked, Puk said to her, “Everyone in this town’s kind of lost their minds, don’t you think? Those morons didn’t wanna sell me anything, everyone was super hostile when we got here, they didn’t want us to stay at all…hell, they don’t even have an inn or a marketplace. What’s goin’ on here?” As he proceeded through his rant, Kali urged him to hush so that others wouldn’t hear him and grow even more offended than they seemingly already were.
“My guess is the red magic,” Kali said.
“Apparently everything can be blamed on the damn magic,” Puk muttered dryly.
“Well, yeah. With red magic being able to change reality, it’s kind of hard not to attribute weird stuff like that to it, right? One of the biggest reasons it was outlawed in the first place was because of mages’ ability to shift people’s perceptions. It’s possible that Kleus has done something to everyone’s minds here. Maybe in addition to deluding them to keep everyone out of his ship, he’s also slightly altering their personalities so that they push outsiders away. He doesn’t want anyone new here, anyone who might stumble upon him.”
“How does he know if someone does come? Ain’t he worried they’ll go blab about the town existing?”
“Maybe that’s what the Ear-Boy is for,” Kali suggested. “Keeping an eye on the town, alerting Kleus of goings-on so that he can react accordingly.”
“This guy’s goin’ through a lot of trouble just to stay hidden,” Puk grumbled. “If I were him, I’da gotten rid of that stupid book a long time ago. Hell, he could sell it himself and make a nice profit. Buy himself a real house in a real town and not live in a nasty old broken airship. Jackass.”
A minute later, they found themselves on Nidra’s doorstep, so to speak. The domed tent was identical to every other one in Pontequest. Nothing at all to indicate its owner might be willing to proffer food to a willing buyer.
The tent’s flap was already pulled open, so they assumed they could freely enter. When they did, they discovered that Nidra was already tending to another customer.
Their mysterious figure.
The person was indeed no taller than Puk, and just as wide, though it was difficult to tell whether that was due to their body or the puffiness of the coat. They turned their head slightly to see who had entered the tent behind them, but their face was completely dark, obscured in shadow by the brim of their hat.
“One moment,” Nidra said, showing them more warmth and politeness in those two words than anyone else in the town had. To the hatted figure, she said, “Three potatoes, six cactus ribs, and ten packets of cactus flower tea. Need anything else this week?”
They shook their head and handed over the requisite crescents, which Nidra exchanged for a sack full of the listed items.
“Glad to do business with you again,” Nidra smiled. “See you in a few days!”
The figure nodded and turned to leave. As they shuffled by, Puk still couldn’t make out any features in the darkness of their face.
As soon as the person was gone, Nidra’s mood shifted considerably. “What do you want?” she asked them, that previous warmth now entirely missing from her voice and replaced with cold steel.
“Uh…food,” said Puk, unable to form more words, taken aback by the abrupt change in the woman’s demeanor and still shocked by the appearance of their quest’s subject.
Kali was peering out of the tent, watching as the stout person waddled away back toward the bow of the Pontequest. The same question on Puk’s mind was surely on hers as well: Why is no one confused or alarmed by that person?
He immediately figured what Kali’s answer would be: red magic. Either the townspeople were seeing the person with a different appearance, or they forgot about them after seeing them, or any number of ridiculous magical explanations. With a red mage living there, nothing made sense, and Puk just needed to accept that.
Nidra glared at him and said, “What kind of food?”
“Food to eat,” he blurted out, weary of every interaction being such a chore. He wanted some meat after last night’s unfulfilling roasted cactus dinner, but at this point he would gladly accept some cactus ribs if it meant he could rush through the conversation. Still, he figured he’d try. Calming himself, he said, “If you’ve got any sort of meat…”
The woman huffed, then said, “I’ve got two salted lamatka shanks left. That’s all. I can’t give you both, because I want one. I want both, as a matter of fact. Do you have money?”
“Yes, I have money. I am trying to buy things from you with it.”
Kali still said nothing, watching Kleus’s minion disappearing into the ship’s entrance, the same one they’d used the day before.
“If you give me fifteen crescents, I will sell you one of my lamatka shanks,” said Nidra. She placed her hands on her hips, awaiting his payment.
“Fifteen crescents for one slab of meat is nonsense,” he said, refraining from swearing at the woman. “How much are your cactus ribs?”
“Fifteen crescents.”
“For six ribs?”
She thought for a second, then said, “For two ribs.”
It was an absurd price. “I take it that’s not the rate you gave our buddy who just left, is it?”
Nidra remained silent.
It was no use. If he was going to pay fifteen crescents for something, which was still a deal compared to what Paul wanted to charge them for sharing his food—ten crescents for a measly portion of cactus that had not been tasty nor filling—then he wanted the lamatka shank. He handed over the money and Nidra reluctantly relinquished the meat. Puk thanked her, and they departed.
“I thought Vence was a bullshit village, but Pontequest is on a whole other level,” he grumbled as they circled around the dead bonfire pit. The slab of meat was thick and wet in his hands, wrapped in thin paper. They were heading back toward the storage room to tuck away his meat for later, when the fire was roaring.
“That was interesting,” said Kali, finally finding her voice.
Puk knew what she meant. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I think I’ve got an idea, too.”
“What is it?” she asked, her voice high and excited.
“I’ll tell you in the room.”
He’d initially been distracted by Nidra’s salesmanship, but with a minute or so to think about everything, a plan had come to him.
Though he wasn’t sure how Kali was going to react.
- -
Kali stared at the bottle in Puk’s hand, flip-flopping between pride and anger.
; Pride for the qarm’s trickiness and ingenuity, which might actually, against all odds, save their asses.
Anger for blatantly lying to her.
“You told me you didn’t have any left,” she said.
“I lied,” the qarm said, his tone meek.
The slender, corked bottle was slightly less than a third of the way filled with cordol spit. He had indeed not consumed it all back when he’d foolishly downed it in Eva’s bathroom.
It took a minute or two to get the outrage and vulgarity out of her system before she was able to calmly ask, “Have you been drinking it this whole time?”
“No! No!” Puk assured her, frantically waving his hands. His eyestalks seemed to rise even higher in alarm. “Haven’t touched the shit, I swear. If I had been, it woulda all been gone by now, I can promise you that. And you probably would’ve had to pull my head out of the sand or stopped me from throwing up all over Zenib or something. No, I didn’t lie when I told you I’d stop.”
If it was true, then that was a relief. The temptation must have been great, carrying the vial around with them for so long. But Kali had to wonder why he’d kept it, giving himself an easy opportunity to relapse.
She asked him, “Why do you have it? Why’d you keep it even after you told me it was gone?”
The qarm shrugged, genuine regret on his face. “I dunno,” he answered. “It was an impulse. At the time, I…didn’t want to let it go. Just in case.” He hastily added, “But I haven’t even been tempted by it! I swear.”
Kali’s eyes narrowed to slits, observing Puk for any sort of tell. Anything to tip her off that he was being untruthful. Nothing jumped out at her.
She truly wanted to take his word for it that he hadn’t been drinking the spit. She didn’t want to assume the worst about him. They had shared so many enjoyable nights together since that unfortunate incident in Restick, and she wanted to maintain that trust in him.
A part of her considered cursing at him again, but it would gain nothing. And, truthfully, he’d been nothing but helpful and kind ever since she found him splayed on Eva’s bathroom floor.
Knowing he had lied about keeping the vial irked her, but she believed he had been true to his word about not indulging in it or any other form of fire-spit.
She decided she could forgive the transgression. Especially if it got them out of this mess.
“What’s your idea, then?” she asked. She had a suspicion, but wanted to hear him vocalize it.
Puk blinked. “Oh,” he said. “Sorry, I thought it was obvious. The guy’s little pal was buying tea packets, yeah? Meaning he drinks tea. Sneak into his place, pour some of this—” he waggled the vial of viscous spit in the air “—into his tea, and then let him froth on the ground while we steal the book. Won’t be able to cast any spells on us if he’s gooped outta his gourd.”
“So your plan is to drug him.”
“Yes. Unless you’ve got a better way of dealing with a mind-bending red mage that can tear us limb from limb or whatever.”
She didn’t.
But that didn’t mean Puk’s plan didn’t put her ill at ease. Yet another step of this whole journey that did not sit right with her. She had to tell herself it would all be worthwhile.
With no retort, she asked, “How do you propose we sneak in?”
Puk sighed. “That’s the part I ain’t crazy about,” he said. “The best way I figure is that I ambush Ear-Boy up on the deck and slip into his coat and hat as a disguise so I can get into the ship wherever our mage is. We’re both the same height; I wouldn’t be surprised if they were a qarm. Should be able to trick him for at least as long as we need, which ain’t too long. I can make him his tea, like I’m sure his dutiful little servant does for him every morning after their sunrise stroll, and find the book.”
It wasn’t a horrible idea.
Highly risky, with several opportunities for utter failure, but not horrible.
And it was also the best they had.
“You’d be in there alone,” she said. An obvious statement. “You wouldn’t have me for backup.”
The qarm grinned. “We both know I’m the better backup anyway.” He was never going to let her live down being knocked unconscious back in Myrisih. “I’ll be fine in there. I’ve learned to handle myself in shitty situations over the years.”
Kali was quiet a moment before saying, “I don’t like it.”
“I don’t either,” said Puk.
“This whole operation was probably a huge mistake.” A sense of dread had been building up since departing Myrisih, but she felt too entrenched in the scheme to pull herself out of it now.
Puk clearly felt the same way. He said, “Probably. But we’re here, so…”
So we might as well.
“We’re doing this tomorrow?” she asked. They were now incredibly low on funds, especially with his earlier meat purchase. Paul’s boarding fee would ruin them soon.
Puk nodded, his head moving but his stalks staying trained on her. “Bright and early.”
The qarm’s idea seemed more and more manageable with each passing moment. The book might actually be within their grasp, as much as it shocked her.
“At least we’ve got a plan now,” Kali sighed, allowing a grin to spread across her face.
“Of sorts.”
They both chuckled. Her heart was racing in her chest, and she could feel it pounding in her neck. The sooner this endeavor was over, the better.
The lush forests of Atlua awaited her.
CHAPTER XVIII
FLICKS OF THE WRIST
They awoke even earlier than the previous day, which made Puk miserable, but he knew it was essential. While he mentally prepared himself for his upcoming monumental task, Kali fed Bella and promised her they’d be leaving soon.
The plan was to grab the book and bolt out of Pontequest immediately thereafter. No time for Kleus or his crony to give chase.
It was still dark and cold outside when the two quietly crept through the broken ship’s innards, toward the upper deck. Puk found himself wondering where Kleus and his pal could possibly be living as they snuck through the passenger deck.
A harsh breeze blew topside and rattled Puk’s bones. He stood stationary, his entire body shivering. Kali laughed at the sight, then reminded him that they should hurry and hide.
There were not a ton of great places to do so. They chose somewhere on the lowered side of the bow, given that each day the duo had spied the person standing on the opposite end, so they hoped that wherever Ear-Boy appeared from was somewhere near there.
Part of the deck on the front end was raised on a slight platform, presumably so that guests would feel like they were getting an even better view as they stood there, overlooking the world inching by below. A foolish reason, but regardless of the intent, the designers had built a thick wall separating the raised platform from the rest of the deck, perhaps acting as a countertop on which guests could rest their cocktails while they chatted with each other. The deck’s innumerable niceties were now battered and piled against said wall.
Getting tipsy on a luxury airship was not a scenario in which Puk could even begin to imagine himself. He would absolutely love it, that was guaranteed, but with his dire funds he couldn’t afford a ticket on the worst airship of the lot. It seemed fitting to him that the closest he would likely ever get to being on a luxury airship was standing on the remains of one crashed and long forgotten. All he needed now was a cocktail.
That thought brought him to the vial of cordol spit tucked away in his pants pocket. He slipped a hand inside to feel the smooth glass, paranoid that it had fallen out somewhere between the storage room and his imaginary flight. The plan, feeble as it was, hinged on that vial. His chest was still tight, his heartrate accelerated, but he let out a small sigh of relief at the vial’s touch.
He and Kali were ducked down behind the wall. For Puk, it meant only that he retracted his eyestalks a little and otherwise stood at his full height while Ka
li crouched. She eyed him fingering the vial in his pocket.
“You alright?” she asked him.
“Sure,” he replied, absentminded.
“I’m serious. If you’re not up to this, we can figure something else out. If you think—”
“I’m fine,” he cut her off. “A little nervous, sure, but I’m fine. This was my idea, after all. I’m fine.” The more he repeated the words, the more they sounded like a lie, but he needed her to believe it. Needed himself to believe it.
Kali cast a doubtful look, but did not prod further.
Puk slowly curved his left eyestalk around the corner of the wall to keep an eye on the deck.
The sun was starting to crest the horizon. Their target should be making an appearance soon.
“Should we work out some kind of signal?” Kali then asked.
Keeping one eye on the empty deck, Puk turned the other to address Kali. “What do you mean?”
“For if something goes wrong with Kleus.”
“Based on what you’ve told me about red magic, I’d assume ‘something going wrong’ would mean ‘my torso being torn in half’ or ‘being turned into a bulloko’s ass’ or something, so I dunno if a signal would be particularly effective.”
Spit and Song (Ustlian Tales Book 2) Page 35