Chapter 26

  Eggs

  I'm out in the fresh air of Giri Village proper. The village square is a grand affair full of stands crying their wares, and the center of it all is a large white-stone fountain surrounded by benches where people can rest their legs and mingle.

  Many people are, in fact, doing exactly that, given that it's the middle of the day. Shopkeepers, craftsmen, workers and customers intermix freely, greeting familiar faces or striking up conversation. The food vendors are in their rush hour, and the array of aromas is enough to stir any appetite, even if it isn't as readily whipped up as mine. Through it all, the mists of water spray from the fountain keep the air comfortably mild in the high noon sun.

  It's just Ayre with me, too. Anara had detained Leuke under the premise of nearly five fortnights of unsubmitted reports. I hope he finds the opportunity to ask her to train with him somewhere in all of that. That feels like the closest either of them can get to the concept of a date.

  I dunno, from what Yorin told me, it worked for the emperor and empress. Maybe it'll work out for them.

  Honestly, my head isn't in any of this. Sure, my stomach is, and I'm munching on meat skewers and pastries as we go around restocking our actual foodstuffs, but the rest of me is just going through the motions. My mind is far away, recalling what the captain of the guard told me.

  I don't want to say war. That's too national a word for something limited to a single region, surrounding an issue completely devoid of ties to the empire as a whole. Giri Village is definitely on the brink of open conflict, however, despite its currently peaceful atmosphere.

  This is in no small part due to the frankly antagonistic "negotiation" tactics employed by the village mayor, a minor noble by the name of Lord Oshu. Having an actual noble as your village mayor sounds bad enough on its own, and more than enough to expect some self-glorifying shenanigans born of his insecurity. Unfortunately, Lord Oshu is also cousin to the region's ruling noble, Lady Noya. That brings him clout above his station, and likely an accompanying ego as an accessory.

  Oh, gosh, I'm going to have to deal with him, aren't I? Why can't Benarou be here, instead?

  "Remmi!"

  The sharp sound of my name pulls me from my musing and turns me toward a red-faced Ayre, who I retroactively register has been trying to get my attention for a moment now.

  I try to speak before realizing my mouth is full of skewer. I pull it out and try again. "Yes? Sorry, Ayre, what was it?"

  My friend gives an exasperated sigh. "I was asking you if this powdered stuff was any good!" And the elf holds out a jar of white powder and one of yellow powder.

  I guess at the contents. "Powdered milk and eggs?"

  "Well, how about that," Ayre grumbles. "You were listening. A little, anyway."

  I give an awkward smile as I rub the back of my head. "I'm sorry, Ayre, really, I am! My head's just been lost in what Anara told us."

  Ayre gives a different sigh as he lets his arms drop. "Yeah, I haven't seen you this deep in your own head since back when we first met." The elf makes a motion to wave it away. "Leave it alone, it's not our problem. If it's bothering you that much, write Sacred Yorin about it. Maybe she can force an imperial diplomat on the mayor."

  I blink at the suggestion. "You know, that's actually a really good idea. I think I'll do that. Thanks, Ayre!"

  He raises the jars again. "Thank me by concentrating on our supplies and answering my question!"

  I give an embarrassed laugh, but then point to them. "They're really good for baking, and they keep pretty much indefinitely if they're sealed and dry. But they're less flexible than the real thing, so they're kind of redundant for us."

  "You're familiar with them?"

  I nod. "My people mastered dehydration. We do it to all sorts of things for long-term storage, or for special environments." I'm not even going to try to explain space exploration. "I'd be interested to know if they did it by convection, or if they have some way of freeze-drying it."

  Both the vendor and Ayre are staring flatly at me, but it's my friend who voices the obvious question. "You would dry something out by freezing it?"

  Again, I nod. "It's a complicated procedure involving extreme control of both the temperature and the air pressure, but it allows the product to retain its form, instead of having to be thinned out or otherwise destroyed first. You could preserve an apple with it, and it would still be identifiable as a whole apple, more or less, whereas with convection, you'd have to thinly slice the apple and expose the slices to the air, or grind it into applesauce."

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  I can see they're not following, though, so I shake my head. "The more I think about it, and judging from the vendor's reaction, freeze-drying is too unlikely. These were made over a low heat with a maintained air flow, weren't they?"

  The man, understanding this description far better, nods energetically. "Yes, yes! So you are familiar with it!" He gives a nervous laugh. "Guess it's not as much of a trade secret as my wife and I thought. But, uh, you are adventurers, aren't you? How are you preserving your food for so long that this is redundant for you?"

  I wriggle my fingers at him. "Magic! How else?" I prop my hands on my hips. "We've got storage that stops time on anything inside it! Beats even refrigeration!"

  He looks shaken by that. "Oh! Oh my. That isn't ... common, is it?"

  I grin back. "Not as far as I've seen! Or at least the bath house back home was still complaining about keeping milk fresh. Your enterprise is perfectly safe! Ingenious, even! We're just not the target by exception."

  He thinks about it for a moment, then offers a jar forward again. "Well, then, how about buying some, anyway? Free up space in that storage for other things!"

  I share a look with Ayre. He's got us dead to rights on that one. If our storage space sounds too large, nobody would believe it's portable. As adventurers, it must be portable, so nobody would believe it's particularly large. If we want to keep a seemingly infinite storage portal a secret, we don't have much of a choice.

  I turn back to him with my grin back on full force. "You know what, you make a good point! We'll take a couple jars of milk and eggs each. Let's see what else you've got, too." Who knows, it could be an interesting way to mix things up!

  It's as we continue browsing that the growing sound of heavy footfalls and clanking armor reach us, so we turn to see the source before their owners have actually gotten to us. It doesn't help that it's accompanied by a growing silence replacing the lively din of the square.

  The soldiers approaching us with their gazes directly on us are immediately identifiable as more than just your average town guardsmen. Their armor is fancier and their belts and sashes are purple instead of simple brown. They also don't look nearly as personable.

  So the mayor even has his own personal guard, does he? What a militant little man.

  They come to a stop in a small formation in front of us, and the forward one is the one to speak. "Hero Remmi Lee?"

  "That's me," I say, casually letting my hand rest on my weapon. Since it's not the obvious crossbow over my shoulder or the long knife at the small of my back, it doesn't warrant a response from them. "Is there a problem?"

  "The Lord Mayor requests your presence at his estate."

  Oh, great, here it is. I knew it was coming. I don't hide the exasperation on my face. "Can it wait? We're in the middle of provisioning."

  Oh, that doesn't make them happy. Grips on spear hafts tighten almost audibly, but the one in front manages to keep his expression neutral. "Madam, the Lord Mayor requests your immediate presence at his estate. We are to escort you there forthwith."

  I really don't like this guy's attitude, though. "What happens if I respectfully decline?"

  This time, the grips are audible, and the leader's voice is tenser, his jaw tight. "Madam, we are to escort you to the Lord Mayor's estate. Immediately."

  I sigh, not really wanting to pick a fight in the middle of the square. "Well, who knows, it might actually be something important. I guess I should at least go hear him out." I motion for the blue-haired elf. "Come on, Ayre, we'll finish later."

  We both start walking, but the man brings the haft of his spear down, stopping Ayre short. I stop moving a half-step later.

  "Madam, the Lord Mayor requests your presence at his estate."

  Wow, these puppets don't have many lines, do they?

  "Ayre goes where I go," I insist. "We're partners."

  "Madam, I must insist you cease your disrespect of the Lord Mayor. He extends his offer to you alone."

  I unsnap the flap securing my gun. "If that offends him, we're really not going to get along. But maybe you should go ask him if he wants to be offending me. The hierarchy here isn't what you seem to think it is."

  He and his men switch to a two-handed grip on their spears. "Madam, I must ask that you come along quietly, or there will be trouble for you."

  Oh, this guy did not just paraphrase Robocop on me.

  "Let me be clear," I answer, forcing my voice to remain calm. "I'm coming with you, and Ayre is coming with me. And if you try to force the matter, I will not hesitate to shoot every last one of you and leave your humiliated forms paralyzed on the ground as we go without you."

  The soldier lets out a growl. "You go too far, foreigner."

  He lunges forward with his spear, but I spin to the side while Ayre backflips away, and the weapon goes smashing into the stand behind us. His four buddies use their tiered reach to hit us, instead, but Ayre handsprings away again.

  I hope to one day be as acrobatic as that elf. Just pull that stuff off as casually as that. Instead, I've already drawn and fired two Heavenly ThunderTM rounds into my two attackers, and instead of skewering me, they collapse on top of each other, their twitching limbs unable to maintain their grips on their weapons.

  The leader rips his spear out of the stall and swings at me in a swipe, but I duck under and put my barrel to his stomach before pulling the trigger. The kinetic force still hits him hard, taking the wind out of him the same instant the paralysis sets in.

  The two behind him have abandoned going after Ayre, since the elf isn't attacking, and even as their leader's body collapses, their spears are rushing for me.

  Mentally cursing their clear training and coordination, I dive to the side rather than away. It's a shorter distance to get out of the way, and keeps them from just pursuing me. It's not a handspring, but I roll into a crouch with one knee to the ground and my gun raised.

  Two more shots, and the square goes silent.

  I reload my gun before returning it to its holster. I only spent five of its twenty rounds, but better to have a full magazine than to run dry in the middle of a firefight. Then I turn back to the vendor.

  "How much did he destroy?"

  The man takes a moment to find his voice "Uh, um, let me see ..." He takes a quick count of broken jars. "Besides the stall, five jars."

  I pull a bar from my coin satchel. Ironically, it's not actually a bar, but a large, golden coin with a rectangle punched out of the middle. "Does three of these cover it?"

  "I, I ... Yes, and then some."

  I toss them to him without much thought. "Keep the change. I'll have the mayor reimburse me. Good luck with the powdered goods endeavor."

  I step over a couple of the guards as I make my way to Ayre. "Come on, we don't want to keep him waiting."

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