by Pirateaba
“I must confess, our entry here has been a bit different than what I expected.”
Pisces murmured as he sat next to Ceria. She flicked a feather out of her hair and laughed softly.
“I guess. I shouldn’t be surprised. But doesn’t it feel like we’re not learning everything we could be? I mean, our basic magic classes are fine, but without combat magic—learning that was the entire reason I came here.”
“Mm.”
Pisces nodded, his expression troubled. Ceria let out her breath, giving vent to more of her hitherto unspoken worries.
“And we don’t have that much time, Pisces! If we had a year—or even half of one I could relax. I could prove myself but we have one month. And I don’t know what their exams are, but I can’t just believe they’ll take me because I know a few spells and I’m a half-Elf. I have to be a student here and I just don’t have anything special to offer.”
“Neither do I.”
“Oh come on. You’re the best in our class at our lessons.”
“Best in a class full of new students. That is hardly a ringing endorsement.”
“…True.”
Both students sat together gloomily. Ceria rested her head in her hands, wishing she’d had a real book of spells to study, or that she’d apprenticed under the half-Elves spellcasters back in her village. Pisces sat in his chair, head bowed, apparently lost in thought. Then he slowly raised his head and spoke in a low voice.
“What if there was something we could do?”
“What?”
Ceria looked at him. Pisces’ expression was unreadable, but his fingers twitched and his foot jiggled with nerves. He looked at Ceria and licked his lips.
“I uh, well, you know when we were listening to those older students talk? Before they spoke to us, one of them mentioned a spellbook in conjunction with a Tier 4 spell.”
“I remember that.”
Ceria frowned as she remembered.
“Yeah, they said that. But so what? If they’ve got one—”
“Ah, but they don’t. Have one, that is.”
Pisces raised a finger as Ceria stared at him. He licked his lips again.
“I—happened to overhead the rest of their conversation.”
“How? With a spell?”
Ceria looked at him in disbelief. Her ears were far better than any Human’s and she’d been standing right next to Pisces. He hesitated.
“Something like that. A spell, yes. I’d prefer not to say.”
“Okay.”
Pisces was acting oddly, but Ceria was intrigued now. She scooted over on his bed as he lowered his voice again. No one could hear them in the room, but both felt the need to be secretive.
“I heard the rest of their conversation. They were talking about a spellbook, yes. A book they do not have. There is a book in a hidden part of the library—in a secret section. The students have located it and they are sure it has potent spells, but the book is warded. If they try to take it, it will kill them.”
“Yikes.”
Ceria’s hair rose at the thought. A trapped book? Wistram had more than one library section, but all the books she’d found were normal books or the lowest-level spellbooks full of cantrips. No wonder the other sections were secret if the books had wards like that.
Pisces nodded.
“I also…happened to overhear where the section is, and how to get in. We could gain access to that section.”
“And look around for other spellbooks?”
Ceria’s heart lifted at the thought. But then she thought of the dangers and hesitated. And Pisces was shaking his head.
“Not just that. If we gain access to the library, too many things could go wrong. We aren’t allowed to read higher level spells as new students, and besides, there could be more warding spells. But if we could somehow obtain that particular book they were talking about—”
“You mean steal?”
The half-Elf looked at Pisces in disbelief. His lack of a response was her answer.
“I have a plan. I hesitate to carry it out, but I am sure it would work. I just don’t know whether I should try.”
“It is stealing after all.”
“True, but—it is not as if these students own that book. It is in the library, for anyone to take.”
Ceria slowly let out her breath. Something was tickling her stomach, the same feeling she’d felt back when she was younger.
“Anyone with the courage. And the intelligence to get it without dying.”
“Precisely. It may not be safe. And if we are caught—well, I doubt we will get into that much trouble. But there is danger, especially if the other students find us as we are retrieving the book.”
“And getting it in the first place.”
“Yes.”
Pisces waited. Ceria considered their options, and then shook her head. But not to say no.
“The way I see it…we’ve only got a month—three weeks, really. We can either play the good students, or we can take a risk.”
The young man’s eyes gleamed with excitement as the half-Elf smiled at him, showing teeth. He reached out a hand and Ceria took it.
“Tonight?”
“I believe so. If we wait, the other students may attempt to retrieve it earlier. And I can execute my plan quickly. We just need time, and the right moment when no one is around.”
“Okay then. What if we—”
Ceria turned her head, and paused as she saw an irregularity out of the corner of her eyes. She turned her head.
Something moved in the corner of Pisces’ room, by the dresser. Ceria sat up instantly. She only saw a flash of grey fur before the creature darted back out of sight.
“There’s rats everywhere!”
She stood up, annoyed more than she was upset. She’d eaten rats before, but she didn’t like the disgusting things. She went to the dresser, but Pisces stopped her.
“No need.”
“Oh come on. Where there’s one there could be a dozen. We need to destroy the nest before—”
“I have taken care of it. Don’t worry, Ceria. We have more important things to do.”
She blinked.
“Oh. You got them?”
“Ah, yes. I had a small infestation of mice in my room. This one must be a straggler.”
“Had?”
Pisces blinked.
“Have. Excuse me. I must have neglected to round up all of the vermin in my last sweep. It should be of no consequence.”
Ceria hesitated. She pointed to the dresser.
“Are you sure? One [Flame Jet] and they’re cooked. It’ll smell bad for a while, but—”
“I’m sure. I have my own methods of disposing of such creatures, and we mustn’t waste time. Let us go to dinner, and then we’ll begin the plan.”
He ushered her towards the door. Ceria nodded reluctantly, but she stopped Pisces as he closed the door to get ready.
“Just be sure it isn’t a rat. Mice will leave you alone, but some of the nastier kinds of rats will nibble your nose off as you sleep.”
“I have everything under control.”
Pisces shut the door as Ceria went back into her room to clean up in the few minutes before they left to eat. He breathed a sigh of relief, and then scowled as a small shape slowly climbed up his dresser.
He stared at it. The ‘rat’ stared back with hollow, unblinking eyes. It was no rat. It was a mouse. And it was dead.
Pisces raised a finger, and the mouse scurried over to him. He carefully picked it up and tucked it into the pocket of his robe. And then he opened the door and walked into the corridor.
“Ceria? Are you ready?”
“Coming—just got to stuff the feathers back in here.”
Ceria emerged from her room, blowing away some more feathers. She smiled at Pisces and his heart skipped a beat.
“Ready?”
“To dinner, then. And afterwards…”
“Let’s go grab a spellbook.”
&n
bsp; 3.16
She wished she had an iPod. That’s what Erin thought when she woke up in her small bed on the second floor of Miss Agnes’ inn. It was probably because she’d made the mistake of thinking about home yesterday.
Ryoka had her iPhone. She’d kept it even thought she’d gone to a whole new world. Whereas Erin hadn’t. True, she didn’t usually bring her phone on bathroom breaks, but if she ever got back she’d take one everywhere she went. And she’d bring an emergency backpack of everything—
If she ever went back. Erin slapped her head.
“Stop!”
Nothing good happened when she thought about home. The only thing that ever happened was—well, weeping and moping and crippling desperation. That’s why Erin had stopped thinking about it on purpose, starting all those days ago when she’d cried herself to sleep in a broken inn in the middle of nowhere.
She was here, and she had to survive. Erin got up and dressed herself blearily. She couldn’t smile—she felt weighed down by heavy thoughts. And she felt even more tired when she remembered her new employee.
“What do I do? What did you do, stupid Erin?”
She gently thumped her head against a wall. Someone grunted in the next room and Erin winced.
“Oops.”
There was no going back. She could only do what was right. And what was right was—
Erin came down the stairs with a determined smile on her face. She’d find something Jasi could do. She’d help her succeed as a [Barmaid]—or do something else. Because even if Erin couldn’t help everyone, she would never leave the Drake and her brother alone. If she did, she wouldn’t be Erin Solstice.
And yet—not everyone was like her. That was why Erin’s smiled twisted the instant she walked down into the common room of the inn and saw what was happening.
“Oh, Erin, my dear!”
Miss Agnes looked up from the table where she was sitting with Jasi. Across the room, Erin saw Safry cleaning the tables before the day started and the one or two early guests waiting for breakfast. Erin looked around the room as she descended the steps. Grev was nowhere to be seen.
“Miss Agnes. And Jasi. What’s happening? And where’s Grev?”
Jasi gave Erin a warm, but—uncomfortable smile. She was sitting somewhat tensely in front of Miss Agnes, and Erin could tell the other [Innkeeper] was—
“What’s all this?”
Miss Agnes didn’t seem to notice the edge in Erin’s tone. She smiled at Erin, beamed, rather, like she always did.
“Well, I was just having a chat with Jasi about her future.”
“Her future? What do you mean, Miss Agnes?”
“Oh, I was thinking about it all night. And I had a chat with Cumin—you did a wonderful thing, helping Jasi and Grev. But although I’m sure she’d be a wonderful [Barmaid], I thought we could explore all her options. After all, Jasi’s so young—I wouldn’t want her to level up in a class that didn’t fit her perfectly, would I?”
For two seconds, because she’d had a bad time waking up and because she’d been hanging out with Ryoka too long, Erin thought about punching Miss Agnes in the face. But she suppressed that instinct at once.
“I see. You want to help Jasi find a job. Another job.”
“Well, I was just thinking how nice it would be if she could find a class she really liked. Being a [Barmaid] isn’t for everyone, and if we can find something that suits her better…”
Miss Agnes met Erin’s eyes innocently. But the message was clear. And it was infuriating to Erin.
Jasi hadn’t even been here one whole day, and Miss Agnes had decided that her inn was not for the Drake. And better yet—she’d talked it over with Mister Cumin, her husband, had she? Erin had visited the sick [Innkeeper] and she knew any conversation Agnes had with him was completely one-sided. She probably just chattered on to him as he groaned in bed and coughed up phlegm.
“So you’ve been helping Jasi since you woke up? That was kind of you.”
“Well, I had time. And I was waiting for you to be up so we could start with breakfast—you really have a talent for cooking, my dear!”
“You mean a Skill. Where’s Grev?”
Normally Erin met most things with a good attitude. But this morning she wasn’t in the mood for niceness. Agnes blinked at her.
“Oh. I sent him outside to play. I’m sure he’ll be back when he’s hungry. Young boys always live by their stomachs.”
And how would Miss Agnes know that? She’d never had a kid. Of course, Erin hadn’t ever had one either, but there was just something about the other innkeeper that was rubbing Erin the wrong way today.
It was just that she’d decided to kick Jasi out. The Drake clearly understood what the [Innkeeper]’s intentions were, no matter how much she smiled, and she looked justifiably upset. Erin glanced across the room and saw Safry glance at her and then quickly away. Safry knew what was going on. Did Maran? Had this been agreed on by all three women or just Agnes?
Who knew? Erin could only move forwards, and so she smiled at Agnes and Jasi.
“Well, I’d love to help with that.”
“But breakfast—”
Miss Agnes coughed delicately and Erin frowned.
“It can wait. Or better yet, this can wait.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble my dear. I’m perfectly willing to help young Jasi out while you cook.”
Erin gritted her teeth. There was an…air about Agnes. It was almost written on her face ‘let’s help the children find what they’re good at so I won’t have to deal with them!’ It made her upset, and even angrier that Agnes was deliberately sending Erin into the kitchen to cook.
She wanted to object. Erin opened her mouth, but the problem was—Agnes was right. Erin needed to make breakfast for the hungry masses who’d soon be coming here for her good cooking. And yet—she didn’t want to leave Jasi alone with Agnes.
But was it really a problem? Erin thought about that for a moment. It wasn’t as if Agnes was kicking Jasi out this moment. She was going to work with Jasi—even if it was selfish. Would it be that bad to let her help?
Well…yes and no. Agnes would certainly help because it meant Jasi and Grev would be out of her hair. But she’d probably not look for the best class to suit them—she’d probably compromise instantly and choose whatever they were good at without exploring all the options.
But she would help. It just meant Erin would have to make sure Agnes didn’t rush things along. And it meant that Miss Agnes wasn’t the person Erin had thought she was.
She was just a woman. Good to her friends and family, but no better than that. It wasn’t a crushing realization, but it just made Erin’s heart hurt a bit.
She let none of that show on her face as she smiled at Agnes.
“Good idea. I’ll make breakfast, and then come back and help Jasi. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Oh? Are you planning on making something special today?”
Agnes smiled at Erin. Erin smiled back.
“Mm. I think I’ll make some crepes and French toast. And bacon.”
Miss Agnes hesitated. Erin had chosen one of the most popular breakfasts for today—mainly because it was a new form of cooking. It certainly brought in customers, but it was a very work-intensive meal for the staff to serve, as customers would regularly order second or even third helpings.
“Oh. Well, Maran isn’t here today—”
“No problem! You and Jasi can help if Safry needs it. That’s why she’s here, isn’t it?”
“I—well—”
Erin walked into the kitchen. There she deliberately cooked the best crepes she could and made sure the sizzle and smell of cooking bacon would wake up even the most reluctant sleeper. She derived no small amount of pleasure from making Agnes’ inn the most profitable and busy building in the city that morning, and felt not a bit bad as Agnes, Safry, and Jasi hurried to fill orders.
It was all about food. Food was one of the things that was popular in any world. Er
in reflected on that as she flipped a crepe into the air and onto a plate. She put it aside to cool, and then changed her mind and speared a piece of it with a fork and popped it into her mouth, ignoring the heat. Breakfast for Erin was usually in the middle of her cooking process.
“Five more crepes, Miss Erin!”
Safry poked her head into the kitchen, looking distressed. Erin could hear the voices in the common room, lots of them.
“Coming up!”
She poured and flipped, barely paying attention to what she was doing. Crepes. Now, weren’t crepes interesting?
The people of this world knew about pancakes, but crepes were new to them. But why did they pull in huge crowds even a week after Erin had introduced them to Celum? The answer was simple: they were new.
Yes, crepes had all the ingredients of a pancake except for baking powder. But it was what you did with the crepes—folding them and pouring syrup over them, or filling them with whipped cream or other savory and sweet things that made them so special. In that way, an old thing seemed practically brand new, and people flocked to the Frenzied Hare to try this wonderful food Erin made.
By now, Erin knew other inns and restaurants across the city were copying her recipe. It was human nature—and Drake and Gnoll nature as well. In time, she knew crepes would lose their hold over the stomachs of people and they’d just become one more item in a menu. But right now they were hot.
“Literally. Safry! Crepes are done!”
Because they were new. Erin let Safry take the plates as she placed some bacon on a plate next to eggs. People liked new things. Like her hamburgers. When they first came to Liscor, it was like they were the greatest food in the world. Because no one had tried them before. As soon as everyone started copying her recipe, hamburgers became, well, hamburgers. Some people loved them and they were tasty, but no one was lining up for them.
But new food was fun. That was the point. New things were fun. Erin remembered the impromptu concert she’d held outside her inn and smiled. Music from her world was so new and amazing to the citizens of Liscor she’d pulled in the gold coins with a rake.