“No, that mindset is your first mistake. We are locating the Grimoire. Before that, we must locate the codex. And in order to find the Grimoire, we must engage with the High Order. Which means without a reasonable doubt, Mana Immunity is absolutely required.”
“All right, all right.”
“Do not shortcut this decision. It is very important. Once you make your selection, you cannot go back.”
“I was only justifying maxing out Speed Tap so I wouldn’t need MI. If they can’t catch me, they can’t use their mana against me.”
“Brave assumption, but no.”
“Hey, you have more experience out there than me, so I’ll take your word for it.” So I added both ST and MI to my skill set, both of them being level one. I had ideas to max out my bots but I guessed I’d just wait. They’d been good to me thus far, I just wished I could send a legion of them out without spending a fortune on mana.
“Good, you will thank me later,” Rufian said.
“Hey, I believe you.”
“And your Zeppu?” Rufian grinned deviously. “You’re not going to have a bite?”
“No, not right now. Although I’m sure you’re itching to see me throw up.”
Rufian sucked his teeth. “Hoarder.”
I chuckled. “I haven’t always been. Seriously, I was torn about the skills. I wasn’t sure what the best option was. And with the Zeppu, honestly, I’m just terrified. The smell alone is scary.”
Rufian laughed.
As we made our way to Roan’s Bar, I noticed that the air was cooler again. I was getting ominous vibes that came and went like pockets in our path the further we went. The sight of death was something I’d first caught in the belly of a worm beast, and it was an experience I’d never forget. But after we left the wilderness, the sensation tapered off, and we reached civilization again. This time the area was slightly livelier, with fae spread across the city in a somewhat busy commune. Most of these fae were dressed in warrior garb, set with heavy armor, bows and arrows, specialty weapons and even familiars like that of Rufian’s firebird.
Like Rufian had said, this sector was for hunters.
Strangely enough, I found myself being pulled toward the different types of fae and their array of specialties. Many of them were showboating their prizes from looting cyber beasts, and others were just plain showboating. A competitive bunch for sure, but they were definitely entertaining to watch along the sidelines.
“Here we are, Roan’s,” Rufian said as he pushed through the swinging saloon doors of a very country-styled bar. It felt like I was on the set of one of those 1970’s spaghetti westerns, complete with the dusty wooden floors and the stout and ‘stached barkeep.
I followed Rufian to the bar, where we took a couple of stools. As we sat, I made my eyes familiar with the space, taking in the sights and sounds.
It was definitely a hunters’ bar, with rugged-looking men and women scattered throughout the room. Some were nursing drinks at tables, while others were playing pool with some strange billiard balls. They looked alive, much like that sponge creature I used with Jezz once. Except these were made from cyber sense, rolling about the pool table like mini Devichos. The air was thick with the smell of smoke, fairy dust, and alcohol, and the chatter of voices mixed with the twangy music playing on the jukebox.
“Hey fellas, what can I get for yer?” the red bartender asked us with a smile, Rufian ordering our drinks. I wasn’t familiar with the specialty liquor of fae, so I allowed him to handle our order. Just as long as it wasn’t anything extra carbonated, or my stomach would have a fucking fit.
“Here ya go,” he said, sliding out mugs across the counter.
Rufian exchanged a few sammies for the drinks before I over eagerly asked, “Hey, I was wondering if you could help me with something.”
“Sure kid. What ya need?”
“We are looking for an Ame—”
“Mercot,” Rufian said, interjecting me sheepishly. “Heh, Amercot Liquor, the older the better!”
The barkeep flashed us a big grin. “Ahh, some men with expensive taste! One round of Amercot coming right up!”
When the barkeep left, Rufian pulled me to the side and scolded, “What do you think you are doing?!” he whispered under his breath. “You can’t go around asking for parts of the spell! It’s dangerous!”
“Seriously? I’m pretty sure Am—”
“Hush! You will jeopardize our mission and forfeit our disguises!”
“I was just trying to take the initiative here. We still don’t know if Pixie has even been here already!”
“Trust the routine, Syodas. And most importantly, trust my instinct!”
“Your instinct?”
“…”
“…”
“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that last part.”
“Here ya go, fellas!” The barkeep broke our conversation with another round of liquor, and I paid him back with a skittish smile and a few sammies for his trouble. I had no intention of drinking the Amercot. From only a few inches away, I could smell the acid of the alcohol, and it was powerful. Unlike my associate to my left, who downed the drink no problem. Instead, I took my sweet time enjoying my Ecutor, a subtle beverage that was light on the liquor and high on the sweet and sour after taste.
With little hopes of finding Clave here, I sat down quietly and kept to myself. My eyes roamed, and I spotted a group of hunters huddled in a corner, talking in low voices. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they looked serious. It made me wonder what kind of jobs they were on, until Rufian nudged me, interrupting my thoughts. “Quit eavesdropping,” he said lightheartedly, “and look over there.”
I followed his gaze to the other end of the bar, noticing a fae woman sitting by herself quietly.
“We found our first hunter rogue, Clover.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
