“Pay attention,” Nolien whispered.
“We are Team Four of the Dragon's Lair, ma'am,” Basilard said, “What can we do for you?”
“With the upcoming joust, I am in need of special medicine. Special medicine requires special ingredients, hard-to-get ingredients, which is why I called you.”
“You want us to do your errands?” Tiza asked.
“Collecting medicinal supplies is hardly running to a convenience store,” the healer said with her nose high. “I require material from the Isle of Tsiaq. You may obtain it from the Tsiaq pigeons.”
“As I thought,” Basilard said. “And our pay?”
“50 gold per bottle and it has to be full. Understand?”
“I understand, ma'am,” Basilard said. “I guarantee you will get full bottles.”
The shrew straightened in her chair. “Good, I expect you back tomorrow.” Her attendant handed each novice a case.
“We'll be here by then, ma'am.”
In a fraction of the time it took them to get the Apothecary’s office, Team Four was back on the street. Eric told himself it was because Basilard didn't have to show the bill to every soldier he met. Back in the Red Town of the Sword and Staff, Basilard explained the details of their mission.
“We're collecting bird poop?” Nolien shouted incredulously. Eric was just as shocked as Nolien, but Tiza didn't bat an eyelash, though she did seem disappointed.
“Yes, it can make potent medicine,” Basilard said conversationally.
“You've got to be kidding,” Nolien said.
“What do you expect? You're novices,” Basilard said. “The guild gets work from escorting royals to picking up garbage. While you continue to develop your skills, your missions will be E and D rank. In other words, grunt work. You should be happy; this one pays pretty well for a D rank.”
“I wonder why,” Nolien muttered.
Tiza let out a loud breath. “I should have stayed home. This mission sounds like a bore.”
“Relax; you'll get to fight monsters,” Basilard reassured.
“Really?” Tiza asked eagerly. She wants to fight monsters?
“Of course, that's the reason mercenaries are hired to get the stuff; monsters. The stuff itself is just an unpleasantness; if you breathe through your mouth, you can hardly smell it.”
Tiza swung her arms. “I'm not worried about that. As long as I get some action, I'm happy.”
“Surely there's a better use for our time.” Nolien protested. “I'm a healer, not an errand boy.”
Basilard beckoned with a hand. “Nolien, come here.” He smacked the back of the boy's head.“You. Are. A. Novice. The big kids get the big jobs. Make sense?”
Nolien grudgingly nodded. Basilard then asked Eric if he had any objections. The battle mage shook his head and said, “If it's my job, I'll do it.”
Their first stop was the Dragon's Lair. The guild stored supplies for out-of-town missions in the Dragon's Horde. Basilard exchanged pleasantries with the dragon Thomas while his novices collected food and tents. On their way to South Gate, they passed Eric's old school. They should be in math right about now . . . Near the gate a horse left its stable and neighed. To Eric's delight, he understood it.
“Wherever you're going, you'll get there faster with us. Three gold a mile. Whaddya say?”
“No thanks,” Basilard said.
Horses that run their own stables . . . I wonder if farm animals have unions.
“If you're sure, then safe journey to you,” the horse said. “Come again.”
“Thank you, see you again soon.” The horse made his pitch to the next group.
“We're walking?” Nolien asked.
“Of course,” Basilard said as they left Roalt. “It's good exercise.”
“This is exercise? It's ten miles away!” Nolien protested.
“You should've seen his training,” Eric muttered. “This would be a warm-up.”
“Geez, you guys sound like tents!” Tiza sneered. The boys and Basilard blinked.
“Tents?” they all asked.
“Yeah, 'tents.' You know, those ladies that wear huge dresses with more fabric in them than real tents.” Her body tensed like a spring trap and her face contorted into a hateful scowl. “I doubt the lot of them have done anything harder than feed themselves—and they could pay someone for that too!”
“You're not like that, of course,” Nolien said casually. “I bet you could walk the whole way without getting tired.”
Tiza instantly relaxed and grinned. “You bet I can!” She took the lead and waved back to her teammates. “Come on, already! The sooner we get there, the sooner I can fight a monster!”
“That was skillfully done,” Basilard whispered to Nolien.
“It was nothing,” Nolien said, “You should see my sister when she gets worked up. It takes a lot more than flattery to calm her down.”
South Gate's farmland was small despite the fertile soil. The bulk of it was open land used only for grazing. The people here were ranchers and nonhuman hunter-gathers. Not wild life, not wild life, not wild life . . . Most of the city's produce came from East Gate. Compared to that area, this was true wilderness. Tiza loved crossing the creeks and sprinting across the plans and hiking up the hills and killing the monsters. The latter were disappointingly easy.
Most of them were small fry and they gathered in certain places: one or two bubbling pits that smelled of bubble gum, sea coral that grew bananas, a towering purple and orange tree with black leather leaves. Basilard explained that the ranchers controlled the populations to protect their employees. Not livestock, not livestock, not livestock . . .
“Did a mana storm drop here?” Eric asked.
“Mana storms drop everywhere,” Basilard replied. “Except the cities, usually.”
One hadn't fallen near the Isle, for it was unimpressive. Eric expected something unusual for the dwelling of monsters, but it was just a mound of dirt surrounded by water with trees sticking out if it.
“Are we swimming?” Nolien asked sarcastically.
“Nah, no good will come from that.” Basilard raised his palm. “Our supplies will get wet.”
A shock wave dwarfed Laharg's shot from his hand and cut the water. From bank to bank, it was pushed aside and held in place. There was now a path to the island.
“Teach me how to do that!” Tiza said, awestruck.
“I will when you're ready.” Basilard lowered his hand. Ignoring Tiza's scowl, he jumped onto the path. “Come on. It won't last forever!”
Walking that path made up for the boring journey. Walls of water provided a perfect view of marine life; a natural aquarium. Eric could reach out and touch a fish if he wanted to. Are there aquariums like this on Tariatla? I should check . . .
Rather than look at the fish, Tiza looked at the trees and the strange birds flying from them. Their necks were long, their bodies were fat, and their legs were scaled. They had jagged beaks and long tails. Oddest of all, their wings looked too short to allow flight. Turigos, from the . . . what was it . . .?
They flew right over Eric's head and away into the distance. Nolien admired them until they flew out of sight. Tiza ignored them; she hoped for bigger game on the island. She jumped and flipped over the boulders in their path.
“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Nolien advised. “You'll trip.”
Tiza struck the landing and glared daggers at Nolien. “Bite me!”
“That wasn't a lady-like thing to say.” Tiza stomped on Nolien's foot, earning a groan of pain.
He should give up. His older brother said it was dangerous to be on a girl's bad side.
Eric was the last to cross. He climbed the rocky bank and joined his teammates. Seconds later, the walls broke and the gap collapsed. Basilard found a shady tree away from the bank, pulled a book out, and sat down.
“What are you doing?” Nolien asked.
“Reading,” Basilard answered as he opened to a marked page.
“
Why?” Nolien asked through gritted teeth.
“To see what happens,” Basilard answered.
“We're on a mission!” Nolien shouted.
“So?” A vein poked out on Nolien's forehead. He opened his mouth, but Tiza beat him to it.
“'So'?” she shrieked. “Why aren't you helping!?”
Basilard sighed, put his book down, and pulled off one of his gloves. All five fingers were covered in scars; too small for any blade, but just the right size for a beak. “When your hand looks like mine, and you're a senior, you wouldn't have to either.” He put his glove back on and picked up his book. “I earn my pay teaching and keeping you out of trouble.”
“What kind of book is that, anyway?” Eric asked.
“It's an action-adventure novel,” Basilard replied.
Nolien read the book's title. “I've heard of this series: it's smut!”
“It's an action-adventure novel for adults.”
Nolien sighed. “Don't worry about the mission, Tiza. Eric and I will handle it.”
“What!?” she shrieked again.
“A lady like yourself shouldn't have to take part in such labor.”
Tiza grabbed his collar and glared pointblank. “Call me ‘a lady’ again and I'll snap your neck.”
“Why don't you like being called ‘a lady’?” Nolien asked. He was so calm, Eric wondered if he knew he was being threatened.
“That's none of your business.” She let go, pushed him away, and walked away.
“And all this secrecy; we're supposed to be a team!” Nolien called to her back.
“Yeah, and that means respecting my privacy!” Tiza shouted back mid-stride. She paused.
“Why are you calling me that, anyways? I'm just an alley cat with no family but the guild.”
“I was raised to treat all women as if they were nobility.”
Tiza's mouth flapped silently before shutting. Eric guessed she wasn't expecting that answer. She turned back around and dashed. A confused Nolien turned to Eric, who shrugged. He didn't understand girls in his own world; he wouldn't have a clue about the ones here.
Bottles in tow, Eric and Nolien roamed the island, looking for poop. The nests were under bushes and nestled between tree roots and every one had a small feathery guardian that screeched and bit anything that got too close. Eric couldn't understand them, which convinced him they were monsters.
Monsters can't talk.
The two novices put their heads together to bypass the birds. Since they couldn't approach without losing a finger, their best plan involved waiting. One hour later, their bottles were as full as when they arrived. It was so frustrating. Eric wanted to club them, but reconsidered. He was smart enough not to kill the golden goose even if all it laid was smelly white goo.
“You two will never finish that way,” their mentor drawled, “Your teammate has the right idea.”
He marked his place, got up, and showed them.
Their teammate was bent over a bird nest and steadily scooping poop. She had the resident bird pinned with one hand and shoveled its waste with the other. Two levels of shit stirring created an awful cloud of stink. The boys held their noses, but Tiza worked unbothered. She already had one bottle filled. Basilard pointed to a nest with snapping little birds in it. Nolien looked from the nest to his sergeant in confusion and snobbery.
“You want me to stick my hand in there!?” Basilard nodded. “That's crazy!”
“It's part of the mission,” Basilard said. He held Nolien's gaze until the healer knelt down and reached into the nest.
“OWW!”
“Is there blood?” Basilard asked, pulling his book back out.
“No . . .”
“Then there's no problem,” Basilard said as he sat down.
“How come we don't get gloves for this?” Nolien complained. “Or shovels or noseplugs?”
“I bought these gloves myself,” Basilard said without looking up. “About the other two: the guild subsidizes your room, board, equipment, and the supplies for their upkeep. You want specialized accessories too?” Nolien went back to collecting poop and cuts in silence.
Eric winced in sympathetic pain before glancing down at his own nest. The birds were sleeping. With any luck, he could reach in and grab the poop without waking them. If he had that kind of luck, he wouldn't be here in the first place. Just as he touched the poop, his hand brushed one of the birds. It awoke with a start. He screamed and furiously shook his hand, but it squeezed tighter.
“You're too timid!” Tiza grabbed the bird and pried its beak open. Eric sucked his thumb as Tiza returned the bird to its the nest. “Pin with one hand, scoop with the other.” After pouring the poop into Eric's bottle, she shoved it into his chest. “Got it, Dimwit?” He nodded meekly. Tiza sighed in annoyance before going back to her own nest.
Nolien yelled as another bird bit him. “Having some problems, Tenderfoot?”
“Just razor beaks, Milady,” Nolien called back. Tiza threw a glob of poop at him. He dodged.
“Nice to see the team bonding so soon,” Basilard muttered as he turned a page.
It was slow going, but with Tiza's method, Eric's bottles filled little by little. He gagged at both the touch and smell, but it was progress. Nolien didn't watch Tiza's demonstration so all he accomplished was angering the birds.
The team arrived at midmorning and it was now early afternoon. Eric was tired, hungry, and somewhat nauseous. There was a reason Basilard told them not to eat breakfast. Tiza, on the other hand, worked steadily: pin, scoop, dump, repeat. Where does that girl get her energy?
“Wow, I didn't think any of you would finish this quickly,” Basilard said.
“It was nothing,” Tiza said with a falsely modest wave. “The boys are just squeamish. I thought only tents were like that.” Eric thought he saw Nolien twitch, but it could have been a bird pooping on him. “Not me! I can do anything!”
“Well then . . .” Basilard finally put his book away. “You should have energy left for training.”
“Bring it on!”
Eric stared in amazement. Wherever she gets all that energy, I want it. He settled for lunch—right after he washed his hands.
When the sun went down, the boys still hadn't finished, but Eric was proud of what he'd done. It was more than Nolien did. At this rate, I won't finish last! His teammate had more cuts than full bottles.
Basilard sheathed his sword. “That's enough for today; good job.”
Tiza looked up from her sprawled position. “But . . . I can . . .go on.”
“Even I need a break sometimes,” Basilard said. “Everyone does.”
“But—”
“You're taking a break. That's an order.”
“Eric,” Nolien whispered. “Why do you think Tiza is in such a hurry to get stronger?” Eric's older brother said it was impossible to figure out girls, so he never tried. He said as much to Nolien. “Yes, but everything has some reason, right?”
“Maybe she just likes fighting,” Eric said. It was far too late and he was far too tired to deal with something as complex as a girl.
The four of them set up camp; Nolien pitched the tents because Tiza insisted on getting firewood. Basilard warded the camp and assigned Eric to fire starting.
“You said we'd be fighting monsters,” Tiza said as she dropped her load of dead wood. “But all we've done is collect poop.”
“Oh, you'll get your monster soon enough,” Basilard said. “Eric, what are you doing?”
Eric stopped clanging the rocks he found in order to answer. “Trying to make a spark.”
“Why aren't you using a spell?” Basilard asked. “A simple fire one was in that book I gave you.”
Eric blushed and resumed clanging. “I haven't . . .figured it out yet.” A part of him argued that it wasn't his fault; elemental spells are more complicated than mana bolts. A larger part of him said he was an idiot for failing a “simple spell.”
Basilard said he'd help him with it la
ter and started the fire himself. All he had to do was look at the wood to get a roaring blaze. It did little to soothe Eric's ego. The food in his mouth turned to ash as his most recent failure played itself over and over in his mind. Idiot! I'm supposed to be a professional mage and I tried to start a fire with sparks! His dreams that night were filled of similar failures because he didn't know “simple spells.”
They woke up the next day to the sound of rain. It drizzled outside their tents. The forest floor was mud with it. Eric sighed before dragging himself out of bed to get wet, muddy, and recaked with poop. The rain reminded him of his last day on Threa. Nothing's changed. A loser is a loser even in a magical fantasy world . . .
He squatted at a nest and brought out a bottle and the rain fell on him. Then Nolien approached. The healer was remarkably dry and casually commented on the change in weather. From there, he moved to other equally pointless topics. He's trying to ask for advice without actually asking. A wonderful feeling bloomed in Eric's heart; someone was coming to him for help. Even though he was tired, damp, and smelly, right now he was superior! He decided to play along.
Finally, Nolien tired of playing. “Why do you have so many more full than I do?” The sentence was ripped from his mouth with a crow bar.
“Tiza gave me some pointers yesterday. That's why she's already done.”
“Oh? What is that I hear?” Tiza said as she sauntered over. Her clothes were soaked from a branch dropping its load on her. Water dripped from her grime-streaked hair. “Does someone need help from the lily-handed lady of the team?”
Nolien blushed and looked away. “Well . . .err . . .yes . . .I . . .I do.”
The smirk on Tiza's face was similar to that of a tiger cornering its prey. Eric was glad it wasn't directed at him. “It's rude to address someone without eye contact.”
“I . . . I can't.”
“Why not?”
“I can't!”
“Well then I gue—”
“ROAAAACK!”
Tiza spun to the sound, eyes bright with excitement. “What was that?!”
A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) Page 13