The World Which Is, CH 104

The city thins as we follow roads north and west. Not to the point I’d think I’m a town, but when we start on the road leading to Cynthia’s Flowers, I can see fields in the distance.

There’s an artisanal sense to the neighborhood. The buildings are clearly houses, most two stories, but on a lot of them, the front opens up to show the inside, with pottery on display alongside the people working on more. There’s a tailor, a cobbler, a painter, what I think is an alchemist, although it doesn’t smell like the one back home. All those ingredients tend to get pungent for the rest of us.

Cynthia’s Flowers doesn’t open to the road. The front is a series of glass panes that let us see the plants behind them. The inside is humid. Almost too much. And there are plants everywhere. A lot of flowers, but also just plants. I can’t tell you what most of them are, but Helen and Silver do studies some intently as we walk single line between them.

When the aisle widens, it’s to make space for a counter, and let people move to other aisles.

“Oh, hello,” a woman greets us, stepping out of an aisle to our left. “How can I help you?” She’s older, easily in her fifties, dressed lightly. Her blond hair is tied in a bun.

“I’m looking for Misses Sentino,” I say.

She smiles. “That’s me. I’m Cynthia.”

She’s older than I expected. I pull Aaron’s journal from my inventory and her eyes widen as I set it on the counter to pull the envelope from the pages.

“I….” I have no idea how to proceed. How do I tell her I found her husband’s corpse? That she’s never going to see him again? I hand her the envelope. “I’m sorry.”

She’s crying as she takes and opens it.

I dismiss the system messages, acknowledging I complete my quest. The one saying I gained a level catches my eye, so that’s nice, but I dismiss it too. I’ll deal with all of that later.

“What are you doing with my dad’s journal?” another woman demands, in her thirties, stepping out of another aisle, sword appearing in her hand. Pointed at me as she advances.

“Judith,” Cynthia says, taking the pages out, “put the sword away.”

“No. You don’t know who these people are. Dad’s been gone for fifteen years and now they show up with his journal? How do I know they didn’t murder him and now want to get you to pay them or something?”

“I didn’t kill him.”

Fifteen years. How long he might have been gone never occurred to me. How long they might have worried about why he wasn’t back. About how long my dad might worry if I don’t make it back.

“Then how did you get his journal?”

“I found it with his body.” I don’t bother describing its state. They don’t need that. “He was murdered. Poisoned. He escaped them by traveling to the ruin I found him in. They were after his journal, according to the instructions he left for whoever found him. Bound it to the quest of delivering the letter to you, and made it so no one associated with his killer could get it.” I take off the ring. “He wanted you to have this.” I place it on the counter by Cynthia. “I also have his sword and armor. They kept me alive until I found my own. I had it repaired.” I place that on the counter, too.

That makes Judith thaw. “Do you know who killed him?”

I shake my head.

She sends her sword to her inventory and runs a hand over the leather.

I offer her the journal. “You should probably have that.”

“Dennis,” Brandon warns, but I ignore him. He can negotiate with her for access.

She takes it and flips through the pages. “All the maps are in front.”

“He rearranged the journal, leaving only the maps accessible until the quest was done.”

“That’s not one of his.” She turns the journal to show me my horrible map of Dardanus’s streets.

“One of mine. I’m not skilled with them.”

She chuckles and returns to flipping pages, slowing here and there, smiling wistfully. I’m turning to leave when she closes it. “You can have it back.”

“Don’t you want it?”

“I don’t have a use for it.”

“You’re not an explorer?”

She laughs. “No way. Dad was always gone. I loved the stuff he brought me when he came back, but I wouldn’t want to put my daughter through always wondering if I’ll come back or not. And as an explorer yourself, you’ll get more out of his notes.”

“Do you want it?” I ask Cynthia, and Brandon barely keeps himself from commenting.

She shakes her head. “Thank you for bringing his letter and his ring. It means a lot to me you bothered. I wish I had something to pay you back with.”

“Aaron saw to that,” I tell her. “The quest reward was generous.”

“You can have his armor and sword,” Judith says, and Cynthia nods.

I consider it, but shake my head. “They served me well, but I don’t need them anymore. Maybe your daughter can use them.” I head out.

We walk in silence for a while. Brandon is the one who breaks it.

“Can I see the journal?”

I chuckle and hand it to him. “You know, I’m sure they would have let you look through it if you’d asked nicely.”

He just nods, while Helen snorts.

“Where to now?” Silver asks.

“Home, for me,” I answer. “I’m done with adventures.”

“I’ll be with you until Toronto,” Helen says. “This has taught me I want academia.”

I look at Silver.

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s been rough, but I have so many stories now. So many songs I can make from them. I think I’ll go back with you, maybe continue on to Montreal, but I’m going on more adventures after that.” She grins. “I liked this.”

“How about you Brandon?”

“Yes, me too.” He slowly flips through pages.

Helen elbows him. “You know that not’s going anywhere. How about you stay with us for now?”

He glares at her. “How about you mind your fucking business?”

“Please don’t start again,” I implore.

“Tell her that,” Brandon says, returning to reading.

It’s like he thinks I’m going to vanish with the journal in the next hour or something. I’m not in that much of a hurry to leave. With the club for lodging, I can enjoy the city while Brandon transcribes anything he needs from it. I’ll have to stay on guard for more bounty hunters, and remain calm to keep the numbers away, but it should be good.

That thought lasts two full intersections.

“Dennis.” I can hear the smile in the tone, followed by the feeling of him pushing me down the hole. “What a surprise, running into you here, of all places.”

I have to force myself to turn, and Brandon curses softly. I guess I’m not hiding how stressed that’s making me at all.

Rich is there, leaning against a building’s corner, smirking. He still looks hot in his black leather armor. Not that I want to get anywhere near him.

“You’re doing well for yourself, I see,” he comments, pushing away. “I’m glad you got yourself out of that hole. How was the experience?”

What level is he? He doesn’t look that much older than I am, so he can’t be—

Rich extends his hand, palm up. “Brandon, if you will?”

By the time I understand what he means, Brandon’s halfway to him.

“You fucking son of a bitch,” Helen snarls. “I knew all this was a con.”

“Now, now, young lady,” Rich says. “I wouldn’t go doing something you’ll regret.” He grins. “And which I’ll enjoy keeping you from doing.”

“Brandon?” I ask, still trying to wrap my mind around the fact he’s now standing next to Rich, the journal held against his chest.

When he looks at me, I don’t see what I expect in his eyes. There’s no victory or pride there. I swear what I’m seeing is fear.

System. Brandon’s scared of Rich.

The numbers shatter.

For him to be scared, everything I thought I’d worked out about Rich has to be wrong. And thinking about it, details I’ve ignored come back to me. The way Base knows him, yet, I’d never seen Rich until that day. The way Dad and Grandpa Louis spoke about him as someone to avoid, how there was always a sense of experience in the comment. Who would Granpa Louis, the Commander, be worried about? He took on monster waves that made it within his range without even breaking a sweat.

Who the fuck is Rich?

Brandon breaks eye contact with me, looking to the side and down.

I block Helen from taking a step forward.

I can’t even get the numbers to show up; that’s how screwed I think we are.

Doesn’t matter.

Please Brandon.

I preemptively dump all my skill points in to Archery, because even at this close of a range I don’t want to chance it. My attribute points go in strength for every increase in damage I can get.

I wish I had my bow in my spare equipment build instead of my sword for the instant change, so instead I focus on equipping it as soon as Brandon comes to his senses.

Come on.

“The journal, Brandon.”

Fuck, I wish I could recall it.

He takes a breath and when he looks at me, his eyes are filled with resolve and I think I’m wrong about him. He warned me, too often for me to claim surprise; he’s not a good guy.

But it breaks as he closes them. He holds the journal tighter against him.

“Brandon,” Rich warns, and the tone is so cold I’m surprised the air doesn’t crystalize.

If I didn’t see his lips move, I’d think I imagined the word, it’s so soft.

“Help.”

I have my bow in hand and I’m shooting arrow after arrow into Rich. Fuck if I’m a murderer again. I’m not leaving Brandon with this guy.

He staggers, but doesn’t fall.

Six, ten, thirteen, and the bastard is still standing.

“Brandon, do something,” I say through gritted teeth, still shooting. Nineteen, twenty-two, double treen. How the fuck is he still standing with so many arrows into him.

What sends Rich to the ground is Brandon punching him in the side of the head.

“Run!” he yells, taking off.

Three more arrows as Rich pushes himself up and I’m next to him.

Any harder, and the way he hands me the journal back would have sent me off my feet. “Don’t you ever fucking hand this thing to anyone again. Do you hear me?”

In my inventory, it goes. “Thank you.”

“Don’t fucking thank me. And don’t ask me where this insanity came from, because this is the stupidest thing I could ever have done. You have no idea what that guy’s capable of.”

Behind us, Rich laughs.

It’s a laugh filled with joy, and it chills me to the bone.

*

When we stop, it’s because Silver can’t run anymore and Brandon’s on us to get going as fast as we can, looking the way we came fearfully.

We make it to the club without Rich catching up to us; we get our things, and get out of the city. South instead of East, because Rich knows the plan is to head back home.

When we stop for the night, it’s almost too dark to see. We’re well off the road and we don’t light a fire.

“You owe us an explanation,” Helen states.

Brandon snorts. “Come on Hel. You aren’t that dumb. You don’t need me to explain what the plan was. Be Dennis’s guardian until he finished the quest and unlocked the journal, trick him into handing it to me and hand it to Richard. Then get paid so fucking well I would have funded my own expedition for once.”

“What changed?” Silver asks, and he glares at me.

“Too fucking nice for his own good, that’s what fucking changed. Why couldn’t you be some entitled rich kid like everyone else from in charge of those farming towns? Why the fuck did you have to be so fucking nice to me?”

I shrug. He talks like being nice is so rare. Which, after all this traveling, I can see why he thinks that way.

“What is Richard going to do?” I ask. Richard fits him so much better than Rich.

“Not drop this, is what he’s going to do. You have no idea what he did to get that journal, and we just kept him from getting it. We are fucked.”

“He killed Aaron,” I say. It’s the only thing that makes sense. “He shoved me down that hole knowing I was hours from my choosing day, so I’d have no choice but to find him and get the journal. Making me hate him for doing that made sure I didn’t think of myself as working for him, so I’d get the quest. He couldn’t be sure I’d take it, but anyone I handed it to would also not be working for him.”

“So, why didn’t you have sex with him?” Helen demands. “I’ve seen how you can get guy to fall for you once they’ve been fucked by you.”

I look at her. The lack of faith in me kind of hurts.

“Trust me,” he says. “She’s not wrong. I can treat a guy who’s never had sex like they’re the most special person in the world, then use them until there’s no trust left.” And as if realizing what he said, he looks away.

“Then why didn’t you?” I ask.

“Because Richard said he’d rip my cock out if I so much as thought about you sexually. You are his, not mine, not anyone else’s. His. He wasn’t joking.”

“How long do you think we have?”

“He’s not the system, Dennis, but he is connected. We need to avoid people and I mean everyone. Anyone we meet might be his.”

“And he knows where we’re ultimately going,” Silver says.

“The best thing, for our survival,” Brandon says, “is for us to head in the opposite direction.”

“No. I’m going home. We’ll take the long way there, stick to the wilderness as much as we can, but I’m going home. Once there, he won’t be able to get to me.”

“But he can get to the rest of us,” Brandon says.

“You can leave, Brandon,” I tell him. “Take what you need from the journal and—”

“Don’t you fucking hand that thing to me, Dennis. And I’m not leaving you. On your own, the next thing you know, you’ll find yourself helping strangers to death.”

I smirk.

Silver sighs. “I’m going to take you up on heading my own way. Not right now,” she adds. “But I’m not crossing the river. It’s too easy for him to have people there waiting. Once we’re there, I’ll head my own way.”

“I’m going back to Toronto,” Helen says. “I’ll make sure to surround myself with enough magic he won’t be able to approach without being burned to a crisp.”

I nod. “So that’s the plan. Stay to the wilderness as much as we can, avoid attracting attention when we can’t. And make it home in one piece.”

She sighs. “I was so looking forward to some easy traveling and good beds and good food and baths every night.”

“I’ll throw you into any stream we come across, Hel,” Brandon says. “You won’t even have to ask.”