Loose Timeline

As it turned out, Unnr wasn’t even in the temple. I stared at the tall blond man (Vragi? Was that his name?) and attempted to put together a coherent question. “Surely she left a note?”

“I think she’s trying to barter for a horse,” Vragi said. “I wouldn’t wait long. She’s usually chased out quickly enough.”

As if that explained it, he looked back down and resumed chopping. Were those more clams?

“Give me that knife,” I said, as he fumbled under my scrutiny. “Really.”

“I couldn’t possibly-”

Before he could finish, I’d stepped in and taken another knife. “You’re going to cut yourself. Stop stabbing down towards your own palm.”

“I haven’t stabbed myself,” he said.

“Yet,” added the goat. Vragi stumbled back and stared.

“You! A- a miracle! You’ve given this goat a brilliant mind!” Were his hands shaking?

I ignored both of them (the goat was saying something about being a blessing of the gods?) as I continued to steadily chop, the clams piling up in a neat stack. They had already been poached. I wondered what they were for. Another soup? Surely not. It would have been better to cook them in the broth.

You’re a rather bad paladin, you know. Not only did you ignore my vote, but you also are harboring a cursed goat.

Andrena was leaning on the counter. I shooed her away with the tip of a knife like I might do with a cat. She left little trails of golden dust behind as she stepped back, sniffing in offense.

Now the silent treatment? I expect you to explain yourself!

I already said what I needed to. I sliced a clam neatly in half. Besides. Your vote did count. That’s how democracy works.

How could it have possibly been counted? Mine should count for thousands of votes. On account of my godhood.

The more I spoke to her, the more Andrena made me think of a pouting teenager. Had she ever been told no?

I frowned down at the cutting board. The sound of the goat in the background had dimmed; perhaps he’d finally gone into the other room. Good riddance. When you spawned, were you…a child? Or did you appear as an adult?

I’m a god. Why would I bother with childhood?

She made a good point. I stepped back and stared at the kitchen cabinets, finally opting for one that had been left half-open. There was a string of garlic hanging and drying, as well as a hard round of cheese. I sniffed the rind.

It seeemed fine.

Is there any wine in here?

What am I, your hound? The vision of Andrena spun on her heel, then crouched and pointed at a cabinet at the very edge of the kitchen, underneath the drawer where Unnr had retrieved the tea. I sense some fermentation in there.

Inside the cabinet were multiple bottles, most empty, but one with what looked like white wine still corked. I sniffed it, too, but it smelled fine. Not sour at all.

Thank you, I said. In case you were wondering, that’s what you say when someone does a favor for you.

I looked back, but Andrena was gone. Instead, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen was Duran. “You’re cooking! Without me!”

He sounded like I’d just committed a murder in front of him.

“Yes.” I arranged my ingredients on the counter and considered them. “Go check outside for some cream, will you?”

“You have to show me everything this time,” he complained, but left easily enough. I scratched at my chin. The problem was, of course, the base of the meal. Potatoes didn’t quite fit. They didn’t have rice or oats. There was some flour in the back of the pantry, but…

“You’re making bread,” I told Duran as he came back inside.

He stopped moving, hands still on the bottle. Good, he’d found some cream. “On purpose? Me?”

“I’ll be back when your dough is ready.”

He was still standing in the doorway, staring at the jar in his hands, when I left the kitchen. Hopefully it wouldn’t take him too long. I was getting hungry.

Apis was still nowhere to be found; the goat was curled up on one of the chairs and snoring quietly. When I tried to wake him, he just bleated and rolled over.

Horrible creatures, goats.

~*~

Outside, it was a little warmer now that the sun was up. I had given up the blanket and now had a real cloak, borrowed from the rack at the entrance and stacked on top of my own. Maybe I was over-stacked with cloth, but at least I was warm.

I had come outside with the vague hope of finding Unnr. It seemed like a large task, but now that I was out here…

I stared at the pillar of smoke just down the street. Why did it always have to be fire?

Clam Cove couldn’t have more than twenty residents, but they were all outside and staring. As I approached the center of the commotion, they were packed shoulder-to-shoulder, kids on their knees and staring through the forest of legs or held up on their parents shoulders.

Strangely, however, no one was trying to put it out.

“Excuse me,” I said, stomping on someone’s foot. “Official business. Paladining.”

Before I could hear his response, I was onto the next, shouldering in between a young couple that insisted on holding hands even in this. I dodged an elderly man, too, and went past what looked like a group of fishermen.

At the center of the crowd was a cart. Or, at least, what had been one. Now it was mostly a charcoal husk, the horses themselves nowhere to be seen.

In front of the cart were two figures. I didn’t recognize one, but the woman’s figure was distinctive. I recognized those strange glasses.

Unnr held up what looked like a small flask and uncapped it, tipping it onto the flames. They sparked higher. “Oh!”

Apparently the beetle didn’t tell all of his priests about the interaction of alcohol and fire. “Get away from that!”

I reached forward to pull her away, stopping at the last minute as she darted out of my reach. In front of us, the cart crackled as a wheel detached and clattered to the ground. In proximity of the flames it was difficult to move; the heat had melted all of the ice and left a thick, sticky mud.

“I always said you were bad news,” said the man. He didn’t want to move away from the cart either, even as I tried to pull him back. “All my best perfumes! Gone!”

I sniffed the air. Did it smell a little nicer, or was I just imagining things?

“Sir,” I said, pushing forward and grabbing his elbow. “You’re going to catch yourself on fire. Watch your shirtsleeve.”

As I tugged him back, he stepped even closer. “If you really believed, you’d be diving in to help me right now.”

Who was he speaking to? Unnr? I looked over at her. She shrugged helplessly.

“Come with us to the temple,” I tried. Better not to have whatever this fight would be in public. “We can work it out there.”

Why that worked, I had no idea. It wasn’t as if he got any less angry. “I expect full repayment,” he said, yanking his shirt out of my hand and stomping up the street. The crowd parted easily for him.

I watched the space close up behind him and sighed. “Unnr. Stop - no.” She was trying to tip her flask on the fire again. “We’re going to the temple.”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose,” said Unnr. We’d finally shoved our way out of the crowd, and I was enjoying the light stroll back to the temple. Even if it meant I had to ignore the large pillar of smoke in the background. “How was I supposed to know that tipping over a lantern would set the whole thing aflame?”

I hesitated outside of the doorway. “Whose cart was that, exactly?”

“Oh, that was Gorm,” she said. “He’s the only one here that makes a trip up to the great cities in the winter. No one else is willing to risk the snow, but his horses… they can ride through anything. Er, could ride through anything.”

Great. So our one plan for going north was up in smoke.

“Glad to see you finally made it,” said the man himself, Gorm, when we stepped inside. He had a beard long enough to cover most of his expressions, but he’d clearly made himself at home. I glanced at the bottle in his hands, then across at the goat in the other chair. Probably best not to mention it now.

Gorm hiccoughed and swilled the remnants of the bottle. “This is horrible. You drink it on purpose?”

“It’s holy wine,” said Unnr. “Please, unhand it.”

“I’m not unhanding anything. Do you know how much you just cost me? The season’s worth of ambergris. Up in smoke! Literally!”

“We can repay you in other ways. Have you ever wanted to know your future? Relive something of your past?”

“You can actually see the future?” For a moment, he looked almost impressed. I glanced into the room beyond. There was still movement; Duran must not have been completely chased off, then.

“Well,” admitted Unnr, “No. But we can predict a few months ahead with approximately seventy-percent accuracy.”

“Hah! I’d rather spear another whale.”

He took another swig out of the bottle. Unnr visibly winced.

“Surely we can work something out,” she said. “If we could-”

“Why were you going north with all of your ambergris?” Something wasn’t adding up for me. “I thought it was treacherous to travel in this weather. You’d risk it on a chance of fate?”

Gorm hesitated. “I was taking it north to sell. Nothing more to tell. Just my luck I’d lose it all like this. This always happens to me.”

“But why,” I pressed. “Surely there are plenty of people in the south who would purchase high-end perfumes. You thought you could sell them all, even if you went to the cities?”

“I wasn’t going to a city,” he snapped.

Unnr and I both stopped talking. She was the first to try again. “You weren’t going to the cities on the main road? I thought that was where you went every winter.”

“No! That’s what I was trying to tell you before you sent all of my stock up in flames.”

“Where were you going?”

“That doesn’t matter now. I want to discuss how much I’ll be paid for this.” he said.

I shrugged. “I don’t have any money left.”

“The temple operates on more of a… loose timeline about money,” said Unnr. “We haven’t received funding for a while. But my sources tell me the Voice is considering funding us for another season any day now.”

Gorm turned and pointed into the kitchen. I heard a thump. Duran must have dropped whatever he was holding. “You, kid. You can pay?”

“I don’t have any money either!”

“Of all of the…” He folded his arms. “That’s it. I’m not leaving here until you pay me back. And find my horses.”

For a moment, I thought Unnr was going to lose her cool. She was on the verge of tears, eyes glimmering. Then the storm passed, and she was all smiles again. “Actually,” she said, “no need. What if I told you we could get you something better than money?”

“I would call you a liar. Maybe those beetles finally ate the rest of your brain.”

“Um,” said Duran. We all turned to stare. He held up a lump of pale dough. “I think it might be edible this time, Madame Elysia.”