This Quest is Bullshit - Chapter 154

[Quick note: I've realized so far I have two Carls and a Carly.  Since both Carls appear in already-published books, I'm changing She Beneath the Earth's name to Mila.]

[Oh, also, cliff ahead.]

Chapter 154 - Quest Hint

“Mawwige…” Preston coughed. “Excuse me. Dearly beloved, family, friends, we are gathered here today to join two peoples, two worlds, but just as importantly, two loves in the bond of marriage. Lina, you’ve overcome your basest of instincts, rejecting violence and choosing love in its place. Alvin, you’ve journeyed a great deal to make it here, escaping trauma, conquering those who would seek to control you, and only coming out nicer on the other side.”

A warm smile stuck on Preston’s face. “Every obstacle in the world stood between the two of you. Two years ago, Alvin, you were so lost and alone that you fell victim to a demonic cult, and yet here you stand. Two years ago, Lina, you would’ve dragged him to his watery death without a second thought, and yet here you stand. Two years ago, neither of these kind, wonderful, loving people could’ve imagined finding what they have.”

Preston looked out to the crowd, holding out an open palm in each direction to gesture to the bride and groom. He raised his voice.

“And yet here they stand.”

Wes sniffled at that, and Eve glanced sideways to catch a tear dripping down his cheek. She considered using Ethereal Manifestation to write the word ‘softy’ across her forehead with an arrow pointing at Wes, but from her current spot in the crowd, Preston would be the only one who could see it.

Tempted as she was, Eve ultimately decided the joke was too good, and Preston would have to stop the ceremony to fall over laughing. She couldn’t ruin Alvin’s big day like that. Yeah, that was why she didn’t do it.

From there Preston led the couple into the vows which, while beautifully composed and touchingly spoken, Eve largely tuned out as a sense of familiar unease began to creep up on her. She blinked. Really? Here of all places?

Trying her best not to draw too much attention to herself, Eve cast her eyes from side to side, searching for the hallmark sign of his presence. She found none.

Art! She screamed the thought in her mind, hoping the trellac would pick it up even with his attention elsewhere.

Jeez, Eve, you don’t have to yell, he replied. What is it?

I think he might be here, she focused her thoughts as much she could, relying on Art’s ability to read her mind while still trying to keep the conversation on track. Can you sense any strange minds? Anyone who’s closed off to you?

Yeah, of course, Art sent, his tone casual. Four of them.

Three images flashed into Eve’s mind, all from Art’s point of view. They were all of the slimy backs of the heads of some kind of humanoid fish creature. Zandiths all share a single mind, but it’s way back in the marshes, so I can’t touch them here, he explained.

And the fourth? Eve asked.

Art sent back an image of him shrugging. Somewhere outside the venue. I can’t see them. Probably another Zandith that showed up late.

Okay, thanks, Eve sent, before reverting back to private thought. “Lurking around outside,” she muttered to herself, “like the creep you are.”

Before she even had the chance to decide to make him wait rather than disrupt the ceremony, a wave of applause swept through the crowd and Eve found herself standing and clapping, completely unable to see the couple’s kiss as a particularly tall naga stood in front of her. Art stood up on his chair, and was kind enough to forward his view to Eve.

The happy couple climbed down from the platform to greet the guests, Lina with her gorgeous white dress dripping wet as always and Alvin with a damp spot covering the entire front of his suit. They held hands as they walked.

As the crowd all stood and the orderly rows of guests transformed into a throng of people looking to congratulate the newlyweds, Eve whispered to Wes that she’d be right back and took the opportunity to slip away from the throng. She’d barely made it away from the venue and into the woods before the mist enveloped her.

“This is an invite only event,” she called into the fog.

“Relax,” a voice said from just behind her. “I’m not here to crash a wedding.”

Eve didn’t jump, simply casually turning around to face the shrouded form of the Man of the Mists. “Could have fooled me.”

“If I wanted to be inside, I would be,” the man said plainly. “But the lovebirds aren’t why I’m here.”

“No, you’re here to lurk around like an absolute creep and spout cryptic messages and chess metaphors.”

“Exactly.”

Eve sighed. “What do you want? You know our deal; we don’t work for you directly. You earned some good will when Mila attacked me and then Alex like that, but I’m not your pawn.”

“We’ve been over this,” the man said, referencing the white chess piece in Eve’s pocket. “You’re my queen.”

“I’m not your piece,” Eve snarled. “If you have a job for me, you can submit a commission to the Dragonwrought like any other employer.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not here to offer you a job,” the moist man replied. “I’m here to offer you a reward.”

Eve blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You managed to trap Mila underground for eight days. Eight valuable days. My partner and I were able to accomplish much in her absence.”

“Partner?” Eve scowled. “I thought you had a whole cabal working with you.”

“This conflict has proven bloodier than we expected.” The shrouded figure shook his head. “But again, that’s not why I’m here. You did good work, and I’ve come to reward you.”

“Um… okay?”

The man snorted. “If I recall correctly, one of your members has in his possession a certain ring, one that begs so desperately to be locked away where it cannot bring further harm.”

Eve nodded along, somewhat uncertain how the Man of the Mists had learned of their quest to destroy or hide the ring of the eldritch plaguebearer. “And?”

“I know a place,” he said. “A vault, deep underground and long forgotten. Sealed shut with an enchantment so potent, only your… very particular set of skills could conceivable open it. Hide the ring within, and you’ll surely complete your quest.”

Eve narrowed her gaze. “And what’s in it for you?” She might’ve trusted him a bit more than she did before Mila had tried to kill her and held Alex hostage, but she still didn’t fully trust him.

“It’s a reward, not a deal,” the man said. “You’ve already given me what I wanted, eight glorious days without Mila’s meddling.” He exhaled. “But if you must know, every quest you complete is a victory for me. Every bit of personal power my allies attain only strengthens our position.”

“Alright.” Eve let out a sigh. “Where’s this vault of yours?”

“Here,” the dark figure said, holding out hand with what appeared to be a quill, “I’ll mark it on your map.”

“My map?” Eve snorted. “Why would I have a map?”

“All adventurers carry maps.”

Eve laughed. “Are you kidding? Maps are two things adventurers hate: fragile and expensive.” She waved a hand through all the fog in the air. “If I whipped out a map right here, half the ink would run from all this moisture you carry around.”

The man paused. “Then… how do you know your way around?”

“There’s this neat thing you can do called learning geography,” Eve snarked. “There’s a map on the wall in every guild hall in every major city; it takes, like, a couple hours tops to memorize it.”

The Man of the Mists let out a long drawn-out sigh.

Eve turned up her palms. “Look, just tell me where the fucking vault is. I’ve got a reception to attend.”

“It sits beneath the Broken Marsh, in the shadow of the crystal willow. I’m sure you’ll have little trouble reaching it.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” Eve said before thinking better of being quite so snippy. “Thank you. I appreciate the hint.”

“You’re very welcome,” the man said. “Remember, you’re on my side. By helping you, I help myself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eve waved him off. “I’m going back to the wedding. I’m sure you’ll have little trouble reaching somewhere the fuck else.”

The man laughed. “Very good. I’ll see you again when the time comes. Best of luck on your quest. Enjoy the reception; give the newlyweds my best.”

“I won’t,” Eve called over her shoulder as she turned to leave. Even as she made it out of the mist and back towards the lungeon, the man’s laughter followed her. She sighed. At least now they had some idea of what to do with that cursed ring, whether or not it was a good one. For the time being, though, that wasn’t her problem.

The door to the lungeon was open, the other guests had already made it inside, and Eve would be damned if she let anything else get between her this meal.

She slipped through the door in the tree and walked down the stairs to find a seat between Wes and Art that Lumy had saved by flashing an angry red at any guest who thought to take it. By the time she sat, there was already a plate of gorgeously seared duck breast atop a bed of potatoes waiting for her. She dug in.

“What did he want?” Wes asked.

“To thank me,” Eve answered through a mouthful of potato. She swallowed. “Apparently we traded She Beneath the Earth for eight days. Misty boy was thrilled.” Eve reached for her glass of wine, taking two large gulps before continuing. “He said he knows where we can get rid of that ring.”

Preston raised an eyebrow. “And you believe him?”

“Mostly,” Eve said. “After the fight with Mila, I’m more confident than ever we’re on the right side—if there is a right side. I think this lead is worth checking out, either way. If he’s telling the truth, it’s another secondary quest complete; if he’s lying and there’s some hidden purpose to all this, that isn’t strictly a bad thing. The only way heading out there and taking a look could go wrong is if it’s a trap, but I don’t think he’d do that. We just handed him a huge win.”

She went on to relay the entirety of their conversation, including the location he’d given her.

Wes groaned. “The Broken Marsh? Really? That’s just what we need, to cross the continent to spend a week trudging through the mud.”

“Wes, we can literally fly,” Preston pointed out.

“Yeah, it’ll be quick,” Eve said. “Just fly over, take look around, maybe break into a ancient vault, then head back. Simple.”

“It’s never simple.”

“Maybe,” Eve countered. “But it’s always fun.”

Before Wes could either argue further or concede the point, a band at the back of the dining room strummed the opening chords of the first song. Alvin and Lina took to the dance floor.

By the time three notes had been played in the second song, half the attendees had joined them, twirling about the open space in grand celebration. Wes and Preston shared a look and stood to follow suit. Eve, too, pushed away from the table and made to stand, thinking to find either a dance partner of her own or another drink. She only made it three steps.

The music stopped.

The reception froze.

A soft whisper spread through the crowd.

The sound of the lungeon door closing echoed through the quiet space.

A voice, deep, masculine, and commanding, yet bearing the smoothness of maturity, spoke directly into the heads of all present.

Sorry I’m late, it said. Please, don’t stop on my behalf. Celebrate! Be merry!

Eve’s heart pounded. She may not have known that voice, but she sure as shit knew that method of communication. She didn’t have to turn around to guess at who it was.

Despite the clear command, the party didn’t get a chance to continue before another voice rang through everyone’s mind, this one young, familiar, and full of childish joy. In that moment, Art’s thought reached everyone as he cried out.

Papa!

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