After I woke up, the groove was beginning to feel like a shelter. Caen had a soft pot of some strange brown liquid bubbling away in a pan on the fire. It smelled nice, sort of a mix between something exotic and sweet. Aria was taking a nap close by: despite having set up two tents to sleep in. Guess even she liked warmth.
“So, busy day.” I dropped myself onto one of the large logs around the campfire. Caen nodded.
“Was hoping that Aria stayed awake. It’s her favorite drink where we’re from.” He chuckled as he stirred it again, before grabbing a bowl.
“It smells nice. What is it?” My eyes perked up as I grabbed a good branch of pine. Time to start making some extra snowshoes.
“We call it buttersweet. Water, cane sugar, and a rare plant called cocoa. Maybe a few other things. Pain in the ass plant from what I’ve heard, but well worth its weight.” Caen handed me a bowl of the stuff.
It certainly smelled the part, and it was nice and hot. I put down my soon-to-be-snowshoe and took a sip.
He was right. There was nothing else like it. I couldn’t help but grin as I felt the rich sweetness fill my mouth. Sweet, savory, and a little buttery!
“Wow…this is really good! How come we don’t see much of this stuff,” I exclaimed as Caen gave me a quiet shush. Right. Aria was still sleeping.
“It’s expensive. Also it’s pretty warm where we come from, so we put ice cubes in it.” He got himself a bowl, before taking a sip and sighing in relief. I was glad even Caen agreed that this stuff is amazing.
“How expensive are we talking about?” I asked as Caen took another sip.
“Well, processed cocoa and gold cost about the same.”
I felt the gut punch. I was drinking liquid money. Caen laughed at my reaction.
“Don’t worry too much. A jar of good cocoa makes a lot more than one pot of the stuff.” I sighed in relief. Another sip it was, and it was delicious.
“Does it go bad?”
He shook his head. “The parts that don’t are worth the most.” He took another sip. “If I end up dead or something, there’s a jar in my pack. Better you girls drink buttersweet than beer.”
I stared at him for a moment before taking a sip again. My bowl was already looking half empty.
“You talk like you’re going to die,” I pointed out as he breathed a sigh, before getting up to grab another bowlful.
“It’s bad odds. Three versus twenty. I don’t care if we’ve got a mage like Aria. It’s still bad odds. One of these days we’re going to encounter something we can’t magic out of, and then poof.”
I couldn’t help but agree. Not every encounter could’ve been like that last one, could it?
“But you still took the job.”
“It’s going to be the last job I take, but yes, I took it knowing the odds were bad.” He sat down with his new bowl before continuing. “Half of me says it’s one last favor for a family friend. The other half is pretty sure that getting Aria to Mithil is one of those important things that I can do. You don’t want to, and other people don’t even think you need to, but in your gut, you know you have to.”
I paused, staring at my bowl of buttersweet before chugging down the lot. It felt like I was chugging my feelings away, except that I wasn’t getting any more drunk. Oh, and it cost about a hundred times more than beer. No biggie.
“You think…Sometimes Aria isn’t herself? Maybe it’s a Pact Mage thing?”
This time it was Caen’s turn to stare at his bowl, deep in thought.
“I can’t say. I can tell you that she’s the most talented mage the south, and likely the north, has ever seen.” He took another sip before breathing a sigh. “I got an old buddy in the Acadamae, up in Mithil. If she isn’t happy with the church, then I can at least drop her off there, and she’ll be happy.” He took another sip.
“That magic of hers has done her more harm than good.”
I nodded as Aria softly snored by the crackling fire. What I saw today was truly amazing. Walls of mist and orbs of water choking someone to death. I’d never heard magic like that, except in the old tales, where mages worked together to make that kind of stuff. Here was one girl making it, and saving our butts.
“Oh, and can you save some for her? Don’t want her to wake up and whine about not getting her share.” His statement was blunt, but it was good to know he cared.
“Sure.” I poured myself a new, warm cup of the stuff before letting it cool. Already burnt my tongue from that stupid chug.
“Also, I’m going to be teaching you girls how to defend yourselves. I get the feeling the church won’t let us go after this embarrassing blunder on their part.”
I raised my eyebrow as he took another sip.
“Close range,” he began. “I know that you can handle yourself from a distance, but not close. Trying to sweep the halberd aside would’ve landed you with at least one stabbed shoulder, and a broken arm or ribcage.”
I gave a nervous laugh. It was pretty stupid wasn’t it…
“Not sure Aria would be much good with any close-range weapon, but me? I’ll definitely take the help.” I mean, how cool would it be to use a sword.
“Right then. But tonight’s for resting. Never knew the central storms were this horrific,” Caen said as he drank down the last of his buttermilk, before placing his bowl by Aria’s side. Then the old man was gone, retreating into his tent for the night.
I was left alone with Aria. I watched the fire bounce and light her face and my hands. It was silent now except for crackling, snores, and a few shuffles in Caen’s tent.
Despite the peacefulness of it all, a moment to gather my thoughts before sleeping, I still couldn’t get that man’s terrified face out of my mind, his agonizing screams. His absolute terror at dying by a force beyond his understanding. Drowning on solid land.
Even Aria’s adorable snoring couldn’t keep those thoughts at bay. I stamped out the fire before retreating into my own tent for the night. I didn’t sleep well.
Chapter 5: The Gods Are Watching
“Charlotte? Are you okay?”
