Honey Beaumont

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Honey Beaumont Page 24

by Sara Bushway


  "Because you killed your owner?" Andy asked.

  "I didn't say that."

  Torq stifled a chuckle. "So, when you got the chance to pick your own name, you picked Buttercup?"

  "Yes," It chirped and grinned. "Buttercups are pretty, and frankly, anything was better than what my owner called me. It wasn't a name so much as it was an insult. She laughed every time she said it like the buffoon she was."

  Andy sighed. "Fine. Buttercup it is."

  "What is a buttercup?"

  "It's my favorite kind of flower. They grew all over my owner's yard and in the park." She smiled.

  Honey smiled down at her. "Okay, Buttercup. Is there anything you can tell us that might help with clearing up all of this Kage stuff? Maybe we could find him and talk to him."

  Buttercup sighed and stared into the table again. "Well...ok. I-I don't know for certain, but I have heard of this inn he hangs around in Fairview Heights. It's the midway point between the base of the Andros and here. A cart comes and goes between the grocer here and the inn."

  Torq and Andy shared a glace. "It picks up products here and takes them out there," Torq reasoned aloud. "It brings back Andros when it comes back to the grocer. The last leg of The Train." Buttercup nodded, still staring down at the table.

  Honey put his hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him.

  "You did good," he said. "That's helpful. Now, let's see if we can get you out of here without making a ruckus."

  Andy fumed for a few moments but eventually softened and nodded in agreement.

  "Ok. You helped us, so we'll help you."

  *****

  Honey and his team returned to the outpost, exhausted from the day. Andy only popped into the dorm long enough to doff her armor and weapons and shower before sitting down to prepare her report. Any time anything was learned about an enemy of the state or a future attack, a thorough report had to be made, which would probably be followed by an interview with some government officials and possibly more after that if the report wasn't clear enough or they felt like you had more details than you cared to divulge.

  Torq sat down at the table to mark the maps and make notes for the team themselves. He was convinced that they were going to end up going after Kage themselves. No matter how much information Andy included in the report, they still knew best and managed to extract the information from it--the girl--, a feat which few had ever been able to do without hiring an official Extractor to do so. Honey had only heard a few tales about Extractors, but from what information he had gathered, it seemed they were masters of the human mind. They could bend and manipulate a person using all manner of psychological skills: persuasion, fear, and even torture. Psychological torture was illegal for the layman to use against his enemies, but these people were highly skilled in the art and were very valuable to a government that feared so many different enemies. Supposedly, recruiters paid close attention to students in college, watching their grades and instructor remarks to see if any of them stood out. Then, from those who excelled in psychological studies, they would find them, offer them schooling to further their skills, and groom them for a well-paying government job with great benefits with the small caveat of tearing apart the minds of people believed to have valuable information in the name of national security. Torq was convinced that if the government had wanted an Extractor on the case that the mission would have never been available to the Adventurer's Guild and that they wouldn't have much trouble with demanding that the team be able to see it through until Kage was dealt with and done away with.

  Honey still wasn't convinced that Kage was all bad. It seemed like he was after a noble goal. He was just going about it all wrong by being so violent. Of course, he was seen as a troublemaker. Nobody wants to listen to a mad man. He wondered if Kage had ever tried to speak to a government representative or if he had decided that they would never listen to a non-citizen and began his assault on their people.

  He just seemed so nice, Honey thought. As did the girl. Why can't it be like in the folk tales where bad people were ugly and mean, and good people were pretty and nice? They both just seemed so nice, like people just going about their business or on a mission for some greater good, maybe. Hmm.

  As it was, Honey felt like he wasn't serving a greater cause, not well anyway. The wizard had said he would struggle and never have great magical powers, but his failure to cast the spell in the heat of battle was more than a little embarrassing. It was downright soul-crushing. After doffing his armor, Honey put his duster and hat back on, leaving the belt and pouches on his pants. "I'm going out for a walk," he announced to the others. They were both very engrossed in their separate activities and grunted their acknowledgment as he waved goodbye.

  He slipped out, went downstairs, and out to the street. There were lots of people in this town. It was strange to see so many people and not be nervous. People who passed smiled and sometimes bowed their heads to him. It took him a few moments to process why, but it came to him. The Adventurer's Guild patch emblazoned on his duster was clear as day. He never thought much about it, considering he never saw it, and nobody ever mentioned it, but out in the world, that patch made him somebody. That patch was his ticket to becoming a hero if he could ever get the rest of being a hero down. He smiled and bowed his head back to those who had done so. To some, he tipped his hat instead, especially groups of girls. Young girls blushed and tittered at the attention, and he loved it. It felt good to be noticed again. The guild was great, and everybody was so nice, but there were strict rules about gandering and harassing, so many people spent their days not looking at anyone else to avoid conflict. They just went about their business alone among all of the others. That was one thing he had missed from when he was a dancer. All eyes were on him. He was enjoyed, just like he had been taught to be.

  I would still consider going back to that if adventuring doesn't work out, he thought.

  He walked on, acknowledging the common folk who were going about their business. People were shopping and carrying bags from various shops. Some street-vendors were selling their wares, yelling their prices and deals among the crowded streets. Shops changed their chalkboards out front to reflect their current deals and stock based on what was selling well. It seemed that the bakery had had a sale on fruit pies but had sold out and was starting a sale on chocolate muffins as Honey passed by, watching a young boy erase the chalk with the sleeve of his shirt and write up the new deal in beautiful script. He even took the time to draw a little muffin on the board with little squiggle marks above it denoting that it was hot out of the oven. Honey considered going inside but decided that a muffin might be better enjoyed on the way back to the guild. He wasn't sure where he was going yet and didn't want to be covered in chocolate when he got there, which was a good choice.

  He found himself in front of the magic shop.

  The Wizard, he thought. I wonder if he would remember me and if he could tell me any more about my magic problem.

  Honey went inside, feeling foolish. He meandered around the shelves and bins of magical equipment, looking through them enough to know that there was nothing that he needed. He was just stalling but eventually went up to the front, where the Wizard's apprentice was polishing the counter with pride.

  "Good eve," Honey said with a slight bow. The girl looked up in shock, having been shook from her daydreaming and bowed. "Good eve, Sir Adventurer. What can I do for you?"

  "I need to speak to the wizard. It's not an emergency if he's too busy, but--"

  "Wait here!" The girl looked around and, spying no one else in the shop at the moment, she disappeared through the door to the back. She reappeared with the wizard in tow.

  "Good eve Sir Wizard," Honey said, bowing again.

  Blaise chuckled. "Good evening, Honey. You needn't be so polite. I know who you are. I only stand on ceremony for Andy because she insists on such things. What can I do for you?"

  "I have been practicing my magic every night since I was also here,
and I feel like I have come a long way. I can draw quite a bit of magic into my hands--or the drawing ball--in no time at all."

  "That's great!"

  "Yeah," Honey said, losing a bit of his esteem. "It was great until I tried to cast in battle."

  The wizard looked on, intrigued, and Honey continued, "I drew and recited the words perfectly and the hand signals and everything...and then it fizzled."

  Blaise stroked his beard. "It fizzled, you say. You did everything just right, and yet it fizzled. Well, we had discussed that your magical prowess may be limited. Perhaps you just aren't meant to cast in the heat of battle."

  "Then what will I do?" Honey begged. "How do I get past that? I'm not good with a sword or club. I can't afford a crossbow, and Andy won't let me practice with hers. She says it's too dangerous. I'm alright with hand-to-hand combat, but Andy insists on hiding me at the back of the party and letting me just stand there and wait until they need something from me. I knew I would start out as little more than a pack mule. I was just hoping that I might graduate to being a real hero with time and practice. I'm starting to think that I might have made a mistake by joining."

  The wizard was appalled. "Nonsense! Absolute hokum and foolery! You most certainly can be an adventurer! We just need to get more creative than the heroes of old. Swordsmanship does not make a hero. Heart does."

  "So how do I use my heart to become a hero?"

  Blaise stroked his beard again, and his eyes brightened. "I've got it!" He pushed through the gate at the end of the counter and began searching through tubs on the shelves of his shop. "Aha! Here we are!" He lifted the item out of the tub and presented it to Honey. It was an old rusty revolver, but it looked different from the few Honey had seen.

  "A gun?" Honey asked. "You think that I should use firearms? Isn't that more dangerous than Andy's crossbow?"

  "Any weapon is dangerous in the wrong hands. I believe your hands will do well with this, but we need more."

  "More what?"

  He plopped the gun into Honey's hands and sped past him. Honey lingered for a moment, turned the weapon over in his hands until he felt a pull on his duster. "Oh! Sorry, Sir Wizard!" Honey followed him. The wizard went back behind the counter, ducked to get into the cubbies below, and produced a box of what looked like plain white marbles. "Marbles?" Honey placed the gun on the counter and plucked one of the marbles from the box. "I'm going to become a hero with a gun and marbles?"

  "Not just any marbles," the wizard said with a grin. "Magical ammunition. This revolver can fire bullets, but it is better suited for firing magical ammunition. That marble is made much in the same way that your drawing ball is made except that it is designed to hold a spell and deliver it to your target." Honey's jaw dropped open.

  "It casts the spell for you!?"

  The wizard shook his head. "Not quite. You cast your spells into the ammunition in your downtime. The marbles will hold the charge for several days before it dissipates. Upon being fired from the gun, the marble will release the spell upon the target, or opponent, and break. That's the kicker. More often than not, they break and cannot be used again, so you must choose your shots very carefully."

  Honey was still enthralled. "You draw energy into the ball..."

  "Yes."

  "Put it in the gun and fire it..."

  "Yes."

  "And the ball breaks on the bad guy and casts the spell?"

  The wizard nodded earnestly. "Precisely! It's quite outmoded in today's day and age where people who aren't well-versed in magic tend to shy away and live mostly non-magical lives, but at one time, this was the standard for magical heroes. They were cowboys of the tome, magical brutes with guns to boot!"

  Honey giggled. "This is amazing! How much does it all cost? How does the gun work?"

  "Easy, boy! Easy!" Blaise chuckled. "The gun is old and decrepit. And in need of a good cleaning, so ten coins. The marbles, however, are difficult to get. I'm lucky to have as many as I do and don't know when I'll get more from the traveling vendor. Those will be one coin each." Honey opened his pouch and frowned.

  "I would only have enough for the gun and three marbles."

  The wizard beamed. "Well, that's certainly more than enough to get you started! You'll just have to be wise with those three shots. You might also consider visiting a smith for traditional bullets. They're cheaper, but many outlaws have found armor and spells that can deflect such things. You'll want to be careful about who you're firing those at as well."

  Honey nodded and began stacking his coin on the counter. "Alright. I'll take what I can get."

  "Splendid! "he exclaimed. "Oh, it feels good to see someone picking up the torch. I haven't helped someone take up this art in ages, and here you are now. Perhaps it's in your blood!"

  Honey shrugged, stacking the thirteen coins in smaller stacks and straightening them, avoiding eye contact. "I wouldn't know, sir, but I hope so."

  Blaise suddenly looked distraught. "Oh, I didn't mean to upset. I should have kept my thoughts to myself. I just have high hopes for you."

  Honey nodded and met his eye line. "Me too."

  "Kendall, ring him up! He's got places to go! Skills to practice!"

  "Yes, Sir Wizard," the girl said and scooped the stacks of coin off of the counter. She wrapped the gun in cloth wrappings and placed it in a bag. Then she fetched a small drawstring bag made of simple cloth and dropped three marbles into it, then dropped the pouch into the bag as well.

  "Here you are, Sir Adventurer," she said, "and here is a bill of sale, in case you need it for the guild." She held out the bag in one hand and a slip of paper in the other. Honey gently took them both from her and bowed lightly.

  "Thank you." He turned slightly and bowed deeply to Blaise. "Sir Wizard." Blaise bowed back in kind and nodded to him.

  "I hope we'll see you again," he said. Honey nodded to him and quickly left the shop. He rushed down the street, not even stopping to mourn the chocolate muffin he couldn't afford anymore and didn't stop until he got back to the guild. He slowed to a brisk walk as he passed through the lobby, only nodding to the attendants as he walked by instead of stopping to chat and went back upstairs to join his team.

  When he arrived, they were each in their respective rooms. Andy had her door closed. Torq did not, and the smell of leather polish was emanating from it. It was strange for Torq to be polishing his gear again so soon, which probably meant that he and Andy had gotten into a fight, and he needed an excuse to exit the arena.

  Seeing that the other two had already turned in for the night, Honey went to his room, closed his door, and dressed for bed. He pulled on a comfortable pair of pajama pants with blue and white stripes and a plain, white t-shirt. The pants had come with a matching button-up sleepshirt, but Honey didn't much care for it. It made him hot and sometimes irritated his scars when the backings of the buttons inside the shirt snagged on the deeper ones. Though the scars had paled over time, they were still a sensitive subject.

  He flopped onto his bed and folded his legs underneath him, and flipped through the tome, looking for anything that could help him with his new weapon. The beginner's tome only seemed to make sparse mention of casting into objects, but it did have a handful of spells that mentioned casting into ammunition in their descriptions.

  "Okay. I can do this. I can figure this out." With the tome open to the page containing the simplest of spells that could be used to imbue an ice spell. When cast at an opponent, it could freeze them in place for several minutes, dealing frost damage to their skin that was sometimes permanent. A strong enough casting could leave permanent patches of scaly, dry skin, or worse. One could lose a finger, toe, or nose to frostbite. However, within the context of imbuing, it only dealt a frosty blow and, on the off chance that it struck a critical point and the cast went off well, it could still freeze their blood and slow or freeze an opponent for a short time. It was less likely to be lethal, but as an adventurer, that didn't seem so bad to Honey. After all, Andy did pre
fer to take in bounties alive. Being less deadly would certainly keep her temper from flaring.

  "Alright," Honey said to himself. He held one of the marbles in his hands and folded his fingers together. "I'm just going to cast this ice spell into this marble. Not at it." He started drawing magic and was nearly ready to cast when there was a rapping on his door. Honey sighed, slightly frustrated, and dropped his hands onto the bedding in front of him. "Come in."

  Torq opened the door just enough to lean in. "Hey, I'm cleaning and polishing gear ‘cause I can't sleep. You got anything needin' polishin'?"

  Honey sighed again and picked up the revolver. "Not unless you've got something that can polish one of these."

  Torq rushed in and snatched the gun from Honey. "Holy moly! Where did you get this?"

  "From Sir Wizard. He recommended it to me after I told him about my little casting fiasco."

  Torq looked the gun over and looked back at Honey. "Hey, you know that was no big deal, right? You're new to all of this stuff, magic included. We don't expect you to be an expert right off that bat, especially after that magic test-thing in the wizard's sigil." Honey wilted a little bit and Torq back-peddled. "What I mean is, don't be so hard on yourself. That's not going to help you get any better at it." Honey nodded. "Anyway," Torq continued, "I think I've got something for this old rust-bucket if you don't mind me keeping it through the night. It needs a good scrub, an oil rub-down, and--"

  "That's fine," Honey said, smiling up at him. "Whatever it is you can do for it would be great, but don't put yourself out. I don't have any coins to give you for it right now."

  "No, no, no," Torq said. "It's my pleasure, man. I haven't held one of these in a long time. It'll be fun for me. I'll have her cleaned up and ready for the ball before you know it."

  Honey laughed, and Torq looked at him strangely. "Like Cinderella," Honey clarified. "Like the children's story. The fairy godmother had to get her cleaned up, and all prettied up for the ball."

  "Cinderella," Torq repeated with a wicked smile. "Nice. When she's all prettied up,' she'll be worthy of that name. I'll bring her back to you before breakfast." Torq turned to leave but was stopped by Honey's voice.

 

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