The Wandering Inn_Volume 1, page 142
Teriarch blinks in surprise, and then his eyes quickly narrow at me. He shakes his head darkly, and I feel the ominous presence around me grow stronger. Fear is eating a hole in my stomach.
“Effrontery. You come here into my home and tell me—but that is your kind, isn’t it? But there is something more to this—this display of insolence, isn’t there?”
He strokes at his beard as he stares hard at me. Teriarch’s eyes narrow.
“You would not have returned after ridding yourself of my spell just to tell me you refuse to serve me. You want something else. Tell me why you are here.”
He points at me, and I feel like answering him. But I bite my tongue.
“N-no.”
He frowns. His finger glows, and his voice deepens.
“Tell me.”
He looks in my eyes and I feel something touching my mind. It’s the same as the first time I met him. I feel an overpowering urge to obey, to spill the beans and let him know everything and anything he wants.
But I fight back. I’ve done it once before. It took everything I had, but this time is easier. I refuse to open my mouth, and the pressure builds and builds before it suddenly stops. I shake my head and glare at him.
“No. Stop that.”
For the first time since I’ve met him, Teriarch looks well and truly floored. He stares at his fingers, and then back at me in disbelief.
“You—resisted my spell. How did you do that? You have no class.”
“It’s called willpower.”
“By willpower alone? That should not be—I suppose it might…”
He trails off, eyeing me with a bit more interest and possibly respect than before. He spreads his hands.
“Very well. What is it you wish to say? Why have you returned without delivering my ring and letter to Az’kerash?”
He’s still so intimidating, for reasons I can’t even explain. But I hold my ground. I have to answer back. I’m not going to just roll over, am I? Come on Ryoka! Sass this stupid mage! You can do it! You can throw some shade—you’re the shade master! That’s what they called you in school!*
*No, they didn’t. They called me ‘bitch’ and other uncreative names.
“I couldn’t find him. I checked the Blood Fields and found nothing. Oh yeah, I also found out I was under a spell and broke that too. Got a problem with that?”
“Yes.”
Whoever Teriarch is, he’s clearly not up with modern retorts. The proper response is ‘fuck you’ or something to that effect. He glares at me.
“The exact location of Az’kerash is irrelevant. I gave you his general location. It is up to you to find him and deliver the message.”
I glare back. For once, I think I’m being out-glared, but I don’t give in.
“How am I supposed to do that? I have no idea where he is. And why should I do anything for someone who cast a spell on me to make me do that against my will?”
He shakes his head as if he could care less.
“You are a Runner. I have made a request. The logic is simple. You will complete the delivery.”
I grit my teeth hard enough to hear my jaw creak.
“No. I won’t.”
“You will.”
I shake my head. It takes more effort than I could have imagined.
“I won’t.”
He growls at me. Actually growls!
“You agreed to fulfill my request. You were paid—”
“To collect your request and the payment. I was going to deliver it to the Runner’s Guild so someone could fulfill it. Possibly me. That’s how an unmarked request works. I didn’t agree to do the delivery myself, much less be enchanted and forced to do it!”
“So what will you do? Refuse my request? Destroy my delivery? Throw it away?”
Teriarch looms over me. Was he so tall before? He looks furious.
“Or did you just come here to complain, Ryoka Griffin?”
I stare up at him. Don’t flinch. Drop the bomb.
“No. I came to tell you that you’re being blacklisted.”
“…What?”
My Runner’s pack is on my back. I flip it open and pull something out. The small Runner’s rule book I bought at the Guild. I open it and point to a passage I’ve bookmarked.
“Rule 21 of the Runner’s Guild states that ‘any Runner affected by spell or Skill may refuse to provide services and cancel any request made.’ Also, it says that anyone who attacks, hinders, or otherwise alters a Runner in the course of their duties can be banned from receiving or requesting any future deliveries. You can see it right here.”
I raise the book and throw it at Teriarch. He blinks and only a flick from his fingers stops the small volume from striking his face*. The look of irritation and incredulity on his face is almost worth whatever horrible fate I’m about to endure.
*Oh yeah. I threw the book at him.
He opens the book and flips through the pages, his face a portrait of disbelief. He looks up at me.
“You—cannot be serious. Do you know who I am?”
“No. Why not enlighten me?”
His left eye twitches.
“I am Teriarch, and I do not obey any requests of a mere—I will not be censured by you or the Guild of Runners.”
“Fine. In that case I won’t complete your delivery. You can have your ring and letter back.”
I open the belt pouch at my side and pull out the folded letter and ring. I thrust it at Teriarch and he blinks in disbelief.
“I’m keeping the potion, by the way. That’s also in the rules.”
“You cannot do this.”
“Watch me.”
For a second I think I’ve gone too far and the mage is about to explode. Teriarch’s face goes red, he yanks on his beard, and then starts shouting at the air.
“No. I will not—be silent, woman!”
I’m too scared to make a comment about sexism, but Teriarch doesn’t seem like he’s talking to me. He paces back and forth, mutters darkly into the air, and then looks furiously back at me.
“I must have that delivered. And I will have you do it. No—! I insist! It will be so!”
“I’m not doing it without another deal.”
“Then ask! What is it you desire, human?”
Okay, keep your cool Ryoka. I gesture with my hand aimlessly at the entrance of the cave.
“I went to the Blood Fields, but didn’t find anything. You said he’d be there or surrounded by the undead, but how can I find them? This continent is big. I have no idea where this Az’kerash is. If you want me to do the delivery, you also have to give me some kind of map.”
Teriarch stares at me. He takes a breath, releases it, and nods curtly. His hand raises palm up, and he says five curt words that make my ears ring. I can’t even remember what he said, only that when he’s done, he’s holding a…stone?
Yes, a stone. Just…a rock. A smooth one, but not much larger than my palm. It’s completely normal, aside from the glowing arrow of golden light etched in the center, of course. It rotates around and then points southwest fixedly in his palm.
Teriarch tosses it at me and I nearly drop it. It’s warm.
“Here. This will point without fail towards his magical signature. Would you like anything else? Or should I give you a flying carpet as well?”
“Do you have one?”
The look Teriarch gives me should fry me in place, but his gaze twitches just a bit to the right side of the room. No frickin’ way. But he recovers and when he points at me this time, the tip of his finger is glowing ominously.
“You will deliver the ring and letter to Perril Chandler or you will regret it, Ryoka Griffin. That is a promise.”
The sight of that glowing finger scares me more than a zombie trying to eat my throat or Gazi with her sword. I’m terrified out of my wits, but my mouth and body are on autopilot. I hold up a hand.
“Not so fast. Casting a spell on me means you forfeit the payment for the request you made. If you want me to deliver your damn letter and ring, make me a better offer.”
“Pay. You.”
A blood vessel throbs on Teriarch’s temple. I gulp.
“Yeah. Pay me. Or else. Asshole.”
I really, really should have shut my mouth before I said that last word. I wait for the fireball, but Teriarch just stares at me. I think…he might be too stunned for words.
—-
Teriarch stared slack-jawed at the impudent human in front of him. He had half a mind to simply blast her into little pieces, but it was a very small half. Really, the only thing in his mind besides shock and outrage was a tiny bit of admiration.
Tiny. Miniscule. But he’d never been challenged to his face quite so…so…so originally as this. Rules and regulations? As if mere words could restrain him.
But he had to admit, the rules did have a certain hold on him. He was a creature of his word; he might be above the law, but he respected it as a concept. And indeed, perhaps something he should pay heed to. He did little communication by Courier, but if he should indeed be banned…
“Very well. I suppose restitution can be made for your…inconvenience.”
The human stared up at him, unblinking. She was so strange. Who’d ever heard of someone willing to brave the High Passes not once, but twice? And to complain? About him casting a spell on her? It boggled Teriarch’s mind, but he wasn’t about to show weakness.
He tried to look around surreptitiously while trying to decide what was appropriate as recompense. He spoke offhandedly to Ryoka, trying to appear casual.
“I suppose forty gold pieces is not sufficient for such a task?”
The human narrowed her eyes up at him.
“That was the price for getting here and retrieving your request. You gave me a single potion as the price for delivery. That’s not nearly enough.”
Of course. Blast. Teriarch had forgotten how the request system worked. And even he had to admit, a single Potion of Haste was a paltry reward for even a simple delivery. He was just so used to commanding Couriers that he’d forgotten entirely what was worth giving.
Teriarch cast about, with his magical senses as much as his eyes. What could he give her that would placate her anger? He had quite a lot to give, but what was appropriate? A weapon? No, surely Runners wouldn’t use them. Jewels? Gold? Spell books? And how expensive was a delivery, anyways?
“Magnolia. What is the current rate of exchange in your wretched cities?”
Teriarch whispered the words, trying not to let the human see his uncertainty. He knew Magnolia was well-versed in the minutiae of human affairs, being one herself, but she was too busy laughing at him to reply.
Scale rot. Without her to help him, Teriarch was forced to bluff. He stroked at the wretched beard humans seemed to love and tried to look stern.
“For such an easy delivery, especially with the seeking spell, I feel some gold should be sufficient. Say…two hundred gold pieces?”
He had no idea if that was appropriate. The human girl paused, and then shook her head slowly. Tooth decay! She was probably offended.
“Two…hundred? Of course not.”
“Mm. Of course. Four hundred—no, eight hundred would be more appropriate, would it not?”
“P-possibly. Fine. I’ll accept that.”
Teriarch narrowed his eyes, but Ryoka had already schooled her expression to neutrality once more. He nodded slowly, still listening to Magnolia howl with laughter in his head.
“Very well. It is agreed.”
Below him, Ryoka nodded. She looked towards the entrance to his cave and patted her belt pouch where he could sense the letter and ring he had given her were stored.
“Right then, I’m off. I’ll complete your delivery when I have time. I’m heading towards Liscor in a few days anyways.”
Teriarch nodded. It was all he could expect. He’d let her go and hope she got there quickly—
He paused.
“Wait. What?”
—-
Teriarch doesn’t seem to quite get it. I take a step back as I repeat what I’ve just said. My heart is pounding out of my chest.
“I’m going. To do your delivery. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Yes—no. Human—Ryoka Griffin, I have much to ask of you.”
“Too bad.”
Two more steps back. Teriarch frowns at me and raises a hand.
“You cannot leave just yet. I have questions for you, and you will answer them.”
I shrug at him as if I could care less.
“Too bad. I’m A Runner. I deliver your stuff. You don’t get to ask me questions.”
“What? No. You will stay here.”
Again, I feel the force of his magic trying to slow me, but this time I’m ready for it. I flip him the bird and turn.
“Try that again and I’ll double my fee. You hired a Runner, and that’s what you get. I don’t do interviews.”
I begin walking away. It’s terrifying, and I feel his eyes on my back. He raises his voice angrily.
“You cannot leave! Stop! I command you!”
I raise one hand in goodbye.
“Come back here!”
Teriarch’s voice is thunder, but I ignore it. I begin jogging out of the cave, tensed at any second for a fireball to turn me into a flaming pile of flesh.
But nothing happens. Instead, I hear Teriarch choking and spluttering in outrage. I increase my pace, and realize I’m close to the exit. Bright daylight greets me and I run out of the cave and back the way I come.
Behind me, I hear a roar of fury that sounds almost…bestial. But I’m too busy running to think about that. I sprint until I’m nearly two miles away from the cave before I feel like I can safely slow down.
My mind is in a whirl, but as I keep running without any consequences, I slowly, slowly relax. And then I realize: I’ve done it. I’ve actually done it!
I run down the High Passes. They’re still empty, and the sky is sunny and clear overhead. Well, even these damn winter days can be quite nice if you have a mage around to scare away the Frost Faeries.
My step is light, and my body is slightly sweaty, but quite bearable to be around. I’ve got a speed potion at my belt, a letter and ring worth eight hundred gold coins in my pouch, and a destination in mind.
And oh yes. I’m grinning.
Definitely grinning.
2.13
There were worse things to eat for breakfast than cold hamburger. That was what Erin told herself as she mechanically chewed and swallowed.
For instance there were…rats. She could be eating rats. Or—or nothing. That was even worse to eat because it was nothing.
Erin didn’t do well with cold mornings. She was like a lizard—which was not the same as a Drake. She liked to laze around in the heat and the summer.
And she was just a bit too lazy to bother with starting a fire, yet too cold to be entirely happy in her brand new inn. Klbkch and the army of the Workers had left her quite a supply of firewood, but Erin just couldn’t face up to the effort. Until she got really cold, and then she huddled around the fireplace with a half-eaten hamburger, shivering in her blankets.
When the inn was finally warm, Erin felt better about life. In fact, she felt great.
She had a brand new inn, and she had a hamburger in her stomach. And a second one in her hands. Erin knew she should stop, but it was a hamburger. Actually, this one had cheese so it was a cheeseburger, and Erin was tempted to make it a double cheeseburger. With bacon?
No. No, she couldn’t get too greedy. Or she’d get fat. Which was a problem, why…?
Erin wrestled with her stomach for a few minutes before she just settled on eating her hamburger. She had work to do.
Yesterday had been a day of triumphs. A day of exploding inns and rebuilding, and Erin was determined to stay on a roll. So the first thing she did was find her way to her kitchen and prepare for the day ahead.
“Ground beef? Check. Lettuce? Check. Tomatoes…no one likes tomatoes.”
Selys and Ceria could take their tomatoes or leave them. Relc tossed his in the snow, and Klbkch probably ate his because it was polite. Erin liked tomatoes, but if it could be left out of the sandwich, that was more money in her pocket and less money…in people’s stomachs.
She had plenty of cheese, and she had eggs for making the patties. Spices? Right there.
Erin tossed everything into her heavy shopping backpack. She could get more from Krshia in the city, which was her destination. She looked around.
“Hey Toren! I’m going. Stay here and—”
Erin paused. That was when she remembered she didn’t have a skeleton. She’d almost expected him to be here when she woke up. But he wasn’t.
Toren was gone.
“Where’d you go, Tor? When I said ‘go away’, I just meant go away for a while. Not…forever.”
He wasn’t gone. Erin was sure of that. She was so sure, she abandoned her shopping pack and ran around. It took her a while to find her hammer and nails thanks to Selys’s reorganization, but she quickly nailed two boards together and made a clumsy arrow with some wood scraps.
The place where her old inn had been was almost completely covered in snow when Erin found her way back. She stared around at the empty hilltop, and remembered a dark inn as she ran, desperate and hurt, through the night.
Once. But not now. Her new inn was better, and it would be best when he returned.
Erin raised the arrow made out of wood and planted it deep in the ground where her inn had been. It pointed roughly towards her new inn. Toren would see it, and come back. She was sure of it.
Erin was so sure that she made three more signs and placed them on hilltops around her inn. Just in case Toren forgot which hill her inn had been on and got lost.
It was lonely in her inn when Erin returned. It was beautiful, made of varnished smooth wood. It even smelled nice—again, thanks to the hamburger breakfast.
But it was empty. All of Erin’s friends had returned to the city, and Toren was missing. Ryoka was busy running up north, and Erin still had no customers.
