The Greatest Pub in the Multiverse, page 22
part #1 of Greatest in the Multiverse Series
Tip: You can adjust the amount of whiskey, lemon juice, or honey syrup to suit your taste preferences.
Mocktail Version:
Ingredients
1 tablespoon honey
1/2 ounce lemon juice
7 - 8 ounces boiling hot water
1 chamomile tea bag, or looseleaf tea
1 /2 teaspoon ground cinnamon, or a cinnamon stick
1/2 teaspoon cloves
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
Lemon wedge (for garnish)
Directions
Brew the chamomile tea.
Warm a coffee mug or Irish coffee glass by filling with hot water. Let sit for a minute or two and pour out water.
In the same mug, add the honey, lemon juice, and spices.
Top off with the freshly brewed tea.
Stir well, add lemon wedge garnish and serve hot.
James
Ha’dran stepped onto the stage, a devilish grin on his face. James wasn’t sure if the dwarf’s good mood was because of the story he was about to tell, that he had gotten James’ approval to use magic during the telling, or if there was something else the dwarf was hiding.
That was, until the table of dwarves burst out in a round of raucous applause and cheering.
The celebration took James aback. Apparently, the dwarves hadn’t needed long to warm up to one of their own. He wished he had that sort of rapport with people.
The blue glow of the pub illuminated Ha’dran enough so that he was visible on stage. Shadows danced along his face while the blue orbs above him swirled in a circle, as if in anticipation of what he was about to do.
“Friends!” A bright blue flame exploded from the front of the stage. Several gasps rose from the crowd. The dwarves, however, cheered louder. The gnomes laughed and clapped in delight. Their laughter was so joyous, James couldn’t help but smile.
He glanced around to see what effect it might have had on the other humans in attendance. It was strange to think that those who had crossed through a portal might be cautious of magic, but James was, and he knew Moira was too. Who knew how others might react?
However, his fears seemed to be misplaced. Between the pyrotechnic display of the dwarf and the high-pitched squeals of the gnomes, the rest of the humans in the tavern already had huge smiles plastered on their faces.
The one exception was Moira, who sat at the bar, sipping on a hot beverage with a scowl on her face.
Ha’dran stood still for a moment, letting the anticipation build. The raucous crowd steadily quieted as they waited, until the room was all but silent. The pub’s blue lights dimmed, as if they too were waiting to see what happened next.
Then, with a sharp snap of his fingers, a flame sparked to life in his palm.
The fire danced and twisted, alive with a will of its own. It grew brighter, casting warm, golden light across the faces of the patrons. James leaned against the bar, his attention fixed on the dwarf. Ha’dran’s grin widened as he held the flame aloft, and his voice boomed out, rich and deep, filling every corner of the room.
“In the land of Hybarn, there was a time when magic was the lifeblood of the world. It flowed through the rivers, whispered in the trees, and sang in the hearts of those who could wield it. But power such as this always breeds fear.”
The flame split into two threads, one golden and vibrant, the other shadowy and dark. They twisted together like dueling serpents, hissing and sparking as they clashed. The crowd gasped as the dark thread grew larger, swallowing the light.
“In the midst of such a struggle, there are always two factions that emerge. One light and one dark. The lightness brings hope, but the darkness brings fear. Fear, if left unchecked for too long, will breed nothing but tyranny.”
The fire surged before subsiding completely, and in its place rose the shadowy form of a towering castle. Its spires glowed red hot, as though forged in a furnace. Smoke curled from its battlements, and the faint sound of crackling flames filled the air. Ha’dran gestured, and the fire shifted, forming a figure atop the castle walls. The silhouette of a king, cloaked in shadow, his crown jagged.
“Bren, King of Hybarn, kept a tight fist on his reign through iron and fear. He could not abide the power of magic. He called it dangerous. Unnatural. He called those who wielded it traitors to the crown.”
The shadows spread their tendrils from the stage out toward the crowd, and dark images of a village rose as though surrounding the shadow castle and its king.
The king figure raised his hand, and the newly formed village burst into a fiery inferno, its buildings crumbling to ash as quickly as they had risen. Sparks flew out into the crowd, harmless but startling, and James heard a few patrons gasp and pull back.
“And so began the Great Purge.”
As Ha’dran spoke, the flames reformed, creating the shapes of villagers fleeing through the streets, their homes engulfed in fire. The figures were crude but unmistakable—men, women, and children running from soldiers whose swords gleamed like molten steel.
“But not all would bow to the king’s will. Not all would let magic die.”
The flames dimmed, the figures dissolving into embers. A new shape rose from the ashes: a dwarven woman cloaked in fire, her arms outstretched. Despite being made of shadow, it was clear the woman’s face was sharp and defiant, her eyes flaming like two blazing embers.
“Princess Aleyna, daughter of the tyrant himself, turned her back on her father’s throne. She joined the rebellion, wielding her forbidden power to protect those who had none.”
The fiery figure of Aleyna stepped forward, her cloak trailing sparks like falling stars that flew throughout the tavern.
Ha’dran’s voice softened. “She was a mage of unmatched power, a beacon in the darkness. But even a beacon needs a shield.”
He paused, and the fire dimmed again before flaring back to life. This time, the flames formed the figure of another dwarf. Stocky and strong, he held an axe in one hand, its blade glowing white hot as if fresh from the forge.
“Tarvo was his name. A wanderer and a warrior. He had no crown, no title, no magic of his own. But he had fire in his heart and the honor of a man who had been born into legend. He swore an oath to Aleyna: to fight for her cause, to protect her people, and to bring the king’s tyranny to an end.”
The crowd erupted into cheers, mugs slamming onto tables in salute to the fiery dwarf. Ha’dran waited, letting the noise swell, before continuing.
James snuck a look over at Tarvo, who sat with the table of dwarves, hiding behind his drink. It might have been a trick of the mage fire, but James could have sworn the dwarf was blushing. He wondered how much truth there was behind the tale.
“Together,” Ha’dran continued, “they led the rebels through the shadowed woods and across the bloodstained fields of Hybarn. The king’s armies came, armed with steel and fear. But the power of Aleyna’s magic and the fire of Tarvo’s honor were a force no blade could match.”
The flames surged upward, heating the air. They twisted and broke apart, forming the shapes of soldiers locked in battle. Lifelike sounds of war filled the pub—swords clashing, shields splintering, and arrows whistling through the air. Shadow Tarvo brought his axe down, scattering sparks with each blow. At his side, Aleyna unleashed her fire in a wave, consuming the king’s forces.
“They fought day and night, their enemies falling one by one. And when the dawn broke, they stood before King Bren himself.”
The flames shifted again, forming the shadowy figure of the king. His claw-like hands reached for a sword that appeared to be made of pure darkness. Tarvo and Aleyna stood before him, their fiery forms burning brighter than ever.
“The king called them traitors. Heretics. Fools. But Tarvo stepped forward, his axe glowing fiercely, and said . . .”
Ha’dran lowered his voice, the fire dimming to a smoldering glow.
“‘If you will not yield, then we will burn this entire place to the ground!’”
The fire exploded outward, a sudden burst of light and heat that filled the room. Shadows danced wildly on the walls, and the ground trembled beneath James’ feet. The flames roared higher and higher before collapsing in on themselves, vanishing in an instant.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence. The pub was dark, save for the faint blue glow of its magical lighting.
“And that day,” said Ha’dran, “Tarvo and Aleyna defeated King Bren, restoring peace and justice to Hybarn.”
Released from the story’s spell, the bar erupted into applause, cheers echoed off the walls.
Ha’dran stood at the center of the stage, his arms spread wide, a triumphant grin on his face. James shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself.
Then came a click and the electricity hummed to life and the lights were restored.
Emma
Emma awoke to thoughts of tea.
The light that crept into her room wasn’t sunlight, there was no sun outside of this pub, but the windows somehow did a good job mimicking what both looked and felt like the sun’s rays. However, when she tried to peer out the window, everything was a bright haze.
The bedroom was otherwise somewhat standard—if not more pleasant—than most tavern rooms she’d stayed in before. Her bed was sturdy, the mattress thick and comfortable. A small table stood beside it, holding a softly glowing lamp, filled with the same blue orbs that illuminated the bar when the power had been off. The floors were clean and covered by a gray-tone woven rug that added a touch of warmth to the space.
Emma smiled as she pulled the sheets off herself and set her feet into the soft slippers that had been laid out in the room before she’d arrived. She intended to track down some breakfast to stop the rumble in her stomach then get to work.
The encounters from last night, first with Kira then with Moira, had sent her mind spinning with recipes and flavors she could use to accommodate those who might not want to indulge in alcoholic beverages, and tea seemed to be the perfect choice for a base ingredient.
All this thinking about tea is making me thirsty. Demon Box hummed to life as Emma got out of bed and began getting dressed.
“Do you have to constantly be in my thoughts?” Emma asked. “Some things I don’t exactly intend for you to hear.”
Believe me, I know. Sass dripped from Demon Box’s thoughts. It’s not like I want to be privy to all the saucy details you think about your friend out there either.
Emma blushed. How much did Demon Box hear?
Far more than I’d like, it chirped. If there was a way to shut off that valve without powering down, I absolutely would. You think I drone on and on? You should hear yourself when you think about Liam. Oh, what nice eyes he has, I wonder what he looks like with his shirt off, I wonder how big his . . .
“Okay! I get the picture,” said Emma. “I’ll try to keep my thoughts in check from now on.”
Just don’t think them so loudly.
Emma paused. How could she control the volume of her thoughts?
Not everything I think gets projected out, Demon Box continued, obviously having heard her question. If it did, you would be absolutely overwhelmed. Imagine if you could hear the computations that opening a portal requires? All the variables and functions I have to sort through to home in on a world and open a gateway long enough that we can both travel through safely. You only hear what I want you to hear.
Emma hadn’t thought of that before. “Two years of traveling together and you’re only telling me about this now?”
I have my secrets too, you know.
“Yes, well, speaking of secrets,” said Emma. “I think last night’s performance absolves Ha’dran and Gloria of any arson suspicions, don’t you think?”
Hmm. The phrasing was nearly identical to what I overheard. Do you think he was going over the details of his tale?
“I’m positive that’s all it was.”
What of the talk of Tarvo?
Emma thought for a moment. “They’ve lived together for a long time. I can imagine they’d get on each other’s nerves from time to time. I don’t think that alone is a reason to be suspicious of them.”
Well, something is causing those malfunctions. I’m still suspicious.
“Why am I not surprised?”
You saw what happened to the espresso machine. What happens if I start malfunctioning next!
“You are already,” she said. “Which reminds me. Once we get settled in here, we should really look into getting you fixed. We are attached to a world filled with technology.”
If I survive that long.
Emma rolled her eyes. “If you want, I can leave you down in the bar again. Today, I’m headed to find a tea shop in Liam’s world. I need to get some ingredients for drinks. This bar seems to be stocked for alcohol, but other beverages, not so much.”
Oh, it’s ‘Liam’s world’ now, is it? Well, I imagine you’re not complaining about spending a bit more time with Loverboy.
“Oh stop, he’s not the same Liam I left behind. Besides, I don’t think he has any interest in me.”
You meat bags are all alike.
“Thanks. Maybe I’ll leave you in the room so you can drone on to yourself.”
Pfft. Then don’t blame me if those scheming dwarves burn the place down while you’re sipping tea.
“Do you really think it’s possible to burn down a magical pub that exists outside of time and space?”
Demon Box whirred for a moment. Perhaps you’re right. Still, I’d feel better knowing their intentions.
“I’m starting to think it’s about time we let the rest of the crew know you exist, so it’s not up to me to keep you company.”
Demon Box sat quiet for a moment. Perhaps that would give me a chance to stretch my legs. But maybe we should hold tight for a little longer, just to be sure.
Emma was surprised to find O’Sullivan’s empty when she came out of the storage room. The stillness caught her off guard. She’d half expected to see Kathy hunched over the bar, poring over the numbers from the previous evening, or James pacing in that quiet, brooding way of his, stewing over whether to keep running the magical pub or abandon it for whatever life he’d been living before.
The thought of James turning his back on The Pint and Portal saddened her in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She slowed. What would I do if this place closed?
She hadn’t allowed herself to think about it before, not really. Even though she’d been there a short amount of time, The Pint and Portal had become more than a job to her. It was the closest thing to a home she’d had in years, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she’d found a space where people didn’t merely tolerate her—they leaned on each other, helped each other, and trusted her in return.
Plus, she couldn’t imagine having to say goodbye to Liam again.
One thing was certain: she was done wandering from world to world. The Pint and Portal offered her something she hadn’t even realized she’d been looking for—less adventure, more connection. A place where she could listen to the stories of travelers and adventurers without having to live them herself. A place where she could help others sort through their thoughts and struggles as she quietly tried to sort through her own.
Her conversation with Moira the night before tugged at her memory. She’d actually enjoyed it despite the tension. It reminded her of the reasons she became a bartender in the first place. Connecting with people and helping them through their troubles.
That brought her thoughts back to James. Maybe he was the one she needed to have a talk with next.
Emma’s gut tightened. If she wanted him to keep the portals open—if she wanted him to see what The Pint and Portal could be—she had to be honest with him. About herself. About her past. All of it.
The idea didn’t comfort her. In fact, it unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
What if he didn’t take it well? Moira could have convinced him of magic’s danger. Her possessing magic could be one more reason to close the pub permanently.
Emma inhaled sharply, forcing herself to steady her thoughts. I can’t hide from my past forever.
It was a risk she’d have to take. Maybe he’d surprise her.
She pushed open the front door to leave O’Sullivan’s. Venturing out into this world on her own seemed somewhat strange. Despite visiting countless worlds over the last two years, she couldn’t help but feel as though she was trespassing in this one. Like she was an intruder.
She hadn’t needed permission to go anywhere in years—not since she was a Hunter trainee, over fifteen years ago. That version of her felt like a stranger now. Back then, she’d been bound by rules, orders, and expectations. After she left, she’d sworn she’d never let anyone control her again. She’d been a nomad ever since, drifting from world to world without attachments or plans.
At least, that’s what she’d thought she would always be until she found The Pint and Portal.
The sensation might have had something to do with the fact that this was one of those worlds with technology attached to it. Vehicles, electricity, and the like. The espresso machine would be a luxury for most of the worlds she’d visited. She never quite felt right venturing into them. Like she was an artifact out of place.
The morning sun warmed Emma’s face as she closed her eyes, and she paused to draw in a deep breath of the fresh sea air. It carried a faint saltiness, mingled with the earthy scent of damp stone and a hint of baking bread from somewhere nearby. Despite its technological advancements, this version of Cuanmore still retained a quaint, almost timeless charm.
From what she’d seen—whether it was through Rudy, Liam, Adam, or even Moira—the villagers seemed to know one another, to look out for each other in a way that felt rare. It gave the town a sense of coziness that defied the cold sterility she often associated with more advanced worlds.
Maybe it was because this location still had some of its magic. She smiled at the thought. Usually magic and machines were independent of one another. It was rare to find a place where the two coexisted.
