Calvin pushed his untouched drink aside and folded his hands on the bar, while Cormac sat beside him, just as humble. Both of them appeared as if they wanted to ask us something.

  Clearing his throat, Cormac leaned in and whispered something I couldn’t catch, his eyes shifting to the side. Calvin reached for his drink again, took a measured sip, and mulled over whatever his friend had just said.

  When they saw me watching them, Calvin sat up straighter. “You know we’re a small town and usually handle things on our own, but this dilemma we’ve found ourselves in recently… well, it’s just too much for us to manage,” he said, his voice full of hopelessness. “Ya see, that Bogart we mentioned earlier isn’t only costing us money and precious fuel. He took a few people hostage and has them working for him. Now, mind you, he’s dumber than a box of bolts, but the man is something fierce.”

  “Real big,” Cormac added, the smile now gone.

  I took a sip, grimaced, and slammed the cup down hard enough to make Calvin and Cormac flinch.

  The added strength boosts were working overtime. Cashius, however, sat unfazed, staring ahead, his hand clenched around his cup.

  Calvin fixed his clothes and continued. “See, he’s not from around here, and he has access to tools and things he uses to brainwash people. Where he got them from, I don’t know. But I do know that if he wasn’t so damned big, we’d handle him ourselves.”

  “Hmm-hmm,” Cormac added. “An asshat, if you ask me.”

  “But be warned,” Calvin said. “The fucker stands at least fifteen feet tall without shoes and can’t speak a lick of civilized language.”

  Cormac nudged Calvin to the side with his arm. “And what makes it worse is that every time someone goes to speak to him, the person ends up working in his camp.” He bit his lip. “It ain’t much, but if you go on up yonder and get rid of him, and rescue our people, of course, you can keep whatever catches your eye. We’ll even throw in some gear for your mounts. What will it be?”

  A dialogue box appeared, and the whole place froze.

  The man rolling his cigarette was locked mid-motion, a cloud of smoke hanging in the air with nowhere to go.

  Kinsley, the bartender, stood by the curtain that led to the back, polishing a dented copper cup, his eyes fixed suspiciously on Calvin.

  The drunkard was bent over a table, head resting on his arm, motionless.

  Accept quest?

  [Yes] or [No]

  I peeked at Cashius for advice. “Go ahead,” he said with a shrug. “What do we have to lose… other than our precious time?”

  I smirked. “Stop it. It’ll be quick.”

  Sparks hovered nearby, her small light glinting off the drinks.

  An emotion passed between us, something that felt like excitement.

  She landed on my shoulder and giggled.

  Fuck it, I thought. Might get to use some of this shit I’ve picked up.

  I focused on [Yes]

  “So, you’ll do it?” Calvin shot up like his seat was on fire.

  “I got you, and I’ll try to bring your friends back, but I’m not promising anything on that front,” I said. “I’ll damn sure try, though. But defeating the big guy? No prob.”

  “Good,” Calvin said, shaking my hand. “Any house without lights in the window is yours for the night. Or you can camp under the stars if that’s your thing. If you choose to sleep outdoors, there’s a place where we used to raise Atarax. It’s wide and spacious and should hold you,” he said. “And Cormac is going to tell everybody the good news.”

  “Good day, gentlemen.” Cormac waved and left us in the saloon.

  I finished the rest of my drink and slid the cup to the bartender.

  Cashius scowled. “I hope you know what you’re doing, because for this mission, I’m sitting it out,” he said.

  “That’s foul. I could use your advice out there, old man,” I replied. “But whatever. I got this, with or without you.” I stood, dusting myself off.

  “Boy, whether you know it or not, I’m old. Traipsing around while you play savior isn’t how I want to spend my time, and since I can’t hold weapons, I’d just be getting in your way.”

  A pang of guilt rose inside.

  “We’ve been doing great so far, if you ask me. But sit this one out if you feel you have to.” I helped him to his feet. “Now let’s go out back and set up our cabin before the sun sets. I also want to see what potions they have here. Might come in handy tomorrow when I go slay Goliath.”

  We found the place. A vacant field with nothing much going on. A couple of dogs ran around in the distance, and the grass was old and yellowed.

  I pulled the cabin out of my inventory, loosened the straps, and walked off before the process could finish.

  Cashius spent the time mumbling under his breath, so I left him to his own devices and headed to the local general store, the one we passed on our way into town.

  The old man was getting meaner, it seemed, and even though I tried to act like it didn’t bother me, it did.

  By the time I reached the general store, I let my feelings about Cashius fade and focused on the building in front of me.

  The outside was like most of the others here. Worn and in need of repairs, but still sturdy enough to do business.

  I stepped inside and felt like I had been transported to some old-timer’s playground, something I’d never seen anywhere but in video games.

  I blinked and scanned all the gadgets and gears lining the walls, most of them hanging on for dear life.

  The triple-X jug on the table to my right probably had dust mites inside. To the left of it, a checkered flag hung full of holes from some bug that had eaten through it.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Old crates of fruit and meat sat with barely anything left. Dusty jars of jam and jelly.Dried fish and pastries that were so fragile they’d crumble if I touched them. Boxes with names like “Gammon’s Best Sugar-Coated Flakes” sat on shelves next to a heap of dirt.

  In its heyday, this place once had everything. Now, it seemed like it was on its last limb.

  Sparks had returned to my inside pocket, still on alert, as she’d been since I’d gotten her.

  The man and woman behind the counter watched me while I walked around. Too old to do anything but greet me, they went back to arguing with each other as soon as I went behind the shelves.

  I tried not to laugh, but this was pure comedy.

  “Why must you always say the same thing to every customer, Micah? ‘Welcome, hope you like what we have for you.’” She imitated him with a mocking tone. “You sound like a damned fool.”

  “Look who’s talking. The same woman who got cheated out of our last few pieces of gold on account of some sad-ass sob story that even a fool could see through,” he shot back.

  “I didn’t get cheated… I helped that poor man who was down on his luck.”

  “Yeah, yeah. And on account of you, we went hungry for days,” he said.

  I let them keep bickering while I searched the shelves. Picking up items covered in webs, the words on their labels so faded I had to guess what they once said. The only things that appeared edible were the pickled goods in jars lining the walls and the crates of fruit and vegetables I’d noticed when I first walked in.

  I grabbed one jar and turned it in my hands. A small, hairless animal swirled in the murky brine.

  “That’s a delicacy right there, sure is,” the old man said, sneaking up behind me.

  He grinned. “Skinned shuckler. Slide it out, mash it up with some bread, and that’s good eating.”

  “Oh, I’ve tried them before, but seeing one like this makes me want to vomit.”

  “Stop jiving. You want to survive out here, you’ll be eating worse in no time.”

  “What do you have that a city person like me could eat and keep down?” I joked, setting the jar back on the shelf.

  “Follow me,” he said.

  The floor groaned under his weight as he shuffled toward the front. I hadn’t noticed it before, probably because of the couple’s argument, but the counter was see-through.

  Underneath, a spread of items waited for me to check out.

  Big bottles filled with red neon liquid, a small silver chest, jewelry, even swords and staffs.

  “Show him the good stuff, Becca. I’m gonna sweep the floor out front. Nice meeting you.”

  I bent over, hands resting on my knees. “Now this is what I came to see,” I said.

  “We also have fresh meat in the freezer in the corner. Something you set on a nice fire and roast. The shelves are mostly keepsakes from the old coal-mining days, back when we still mined coal in this town. But all you have to do is tell me what you wanna see, and I’ll bring it up for you.”

  I scanned the items. “I’ll need potions for sure, and maybe something for MP replenishment,” I said, rising. “And oh yeah, anything that’ll buff me up.”

  “That’s all, honey?”

  I leaned forward. “I believe so, unless you’ve got something special down there for me.”

  “First, let me get you those items you wanted. Then I’ll see what I have for you,” she said, the lines in her face softening.

  She set out four health potions and three mana potions, and a translucent rectangle appeared with all of the prices listed next to the items.

  The HP potions restored one thousand health points, and the mana potions restored five hundred. The HP potions cost seven hundred apiece, while the mana potions were pricier at one thousand each.

  Since I’d hit level twenty-five, my pockets were pretty deep. Pulling up the menu, I saw I was sitting on thirty-nine thousand even, more than enough to afford them. And even though I had the money, spending too much without knowing where I’d get more felt dumb as hell to me.

  She then brought out the booster potions. Two different types would heighten my stats, and one would add a new ability.

  These came in small syringes. One would add +5 to my speed for two minutes. Another would make my fists swell in size for the duration of a fight.

  The new items appeared in the interface rectangle. Priced at fifteen hundred apiece, these syringes were pretty expensive. I bought them both, and the gold was subtracted from inventory.

  “Now, show me the meat in the freezer, and I’ll get out of your way.”

  Sparks left my pocket and buzzed around my head, speaking to me in that special way of hers.

  Hunger.

  Food.

  For some strange reason, something told me to ask for fairy food.

  Appreciation.

  The woman showed me a small tin, old but still sturdy. No bigger than my thumb and mighty dusty, even for something so small.

  “I don’t remember where we picked this up,” the old woman said, “but give it to that fairy of yours. She’ll be happy as sunshine.”

  I opened the menu to pay for it, but she waved me off. “On the house.”

  Sparks flew to her, buzzed around her head a few times, fast as hell, and then returned to me.

  A warm wave passed over me.

  “She says thanks,” I chuckled.

  Becca smiled. “Now I’ll get you your meat.”

  Back at the cabin, Cashius had his shoes off, funkifying the air.

  “Good grief, man. Your feet smell like rotten eggs and bad lasagna,” I said, dry heaving.

  “So what. I’m a man, and men’s feet stink from time to time,” he replied, putting out his cigar and bending to put on his shoes. “Don’t like it, don’t inhale it.”

  “Now you’re handing out death sentences?”

  “If only.”

  Sparks played dead on my shoulder, one foot dangling over the edge, before flying off again, holding her nose.

  “Even Sparks says your feet are atomic,” I laughed. “You feeling any better, or are you still a grouchy ass fuck?”

  “Who says I was grouchy? I’m just ready to get started on the main mission and stop bullshitting around,” he complained.

  I took a seat across from him. “The side mission will be done by tomorrow evening, at the latest,” I reassured him. “After I take care of the Bogart, we’re back on the road. And since you’re not coming with me, you get to relax and kick your feet up.”

  He curled his lips into a tight smile. “Those dreams of Linuux are only going to get worse, and let me tell you, that dragon can do some serious shit to us, even in our dreams. It’ll be best to just get on the road now and take care of that instead of fucking around with the giant doofus.”

  I thought about the dream I’d had last night and shivered. To play it off, I faked a yawn. “One more day, and I promise we’re out of this rinky-dink town.”

  “If you say so.”

  I folded my arms behind my head. “Also, I want to try out my new gear tomorrow, and there ain’t no better time.”

  He raised a brow. “I forgot all about that.”

  “Not me,” I said. “It’s been in the back of my mind since I got to this level, and I must say I’m kind of excited to put it on and see what it does. Who knows, I may even find another Ice Thompson chest.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Ice Thompson’s chest doesn’t reappear that fast, and not this close to each other. Just focus on the Bogart mission and pray you don’t get yourself killed.”

  Cashius stood and walked to the kitchen. “Did you get anything to eat, or do we have to eat more wild chicken?”

  I went into my inventory and pulled out the dried Brindlehusk and veggies I’d gotten from the general store.

  After making sure it was enough, I strolled across the room and dropped them on the table. Sparks hovered, humming again, her little light growing brighter.

  The old man picked up the meat, smelled it, and twisted his nose. Mumbling something I couldn’t hear, he stormed to the pit to prepare dinner. Next, he got some water from the spout, put it in a pot, and set it atop the fire.

  He broke a twig he’d brought from his pocket, sprinkled in some brown-colored dust, then put the meat into the pot and gave it a good stir.

  Minutes later, a delicious aroma spread through the room, and the frown he’d been wearing all day turned into a smile.

  His face lit up when he put the tongue to his mouth and gave it a taste. Then he added the vegetables and sat down at the table.

  To keep myself busy, I washed our dirty dishes from yesterday as best I could, straightened up the table, grabbed spoons and forks, and set them beside our plates.

  Remembering Sparks’ special dish I’d gotten from Becca, I brought it out and placed it on the table, along with the small pouch.

  She landed, kicked the bottom of the dish, and it unfolded in a series of tiny movements. Like stop motion, I couldn’t see all the frames it took.

  “Cool,” I whispered.

  When it was done setting up, a fire whooshed, making me jerk back. Along with it came the smell of burnt wood.

  I stared and an emotion surged in me.

  Watch out now.

  I stepped even closer, observing her as she cooked her tiny dinner. She took out a pouch and spread the contents across her makeshift grill, then used a pair of tongs shaped for her small frame to flip them over.

  Another smell drifted to my nose, making me sneeze. “What is that?” I asked.

  Cashius answered. “Fairies can eat almost anything, but they just love them some burnt peppercorns.”

  After a while of watching her grill, I got bored and leaned back in my chair. “Cashius, my friend,” I said, “this world always astounds me.”

  We ate a delicious meal of smoked meat and mixed vegetables in a sour yet sweet sauce. I had seconds, then said goodnight and went to my room.

  Sparks slept on a couch in the sitting area, pointing toward the door.

  In the morning, I would wake, put on my Ice Thompson suit with the claws, and head out to find where the Bogart called home. With luck, I would rescue this town’s people and then get back to the main mission.