Chapter 13: Scales and Silver (Patreon)

Elliot pulled the supply pack inside, then stepped over to the table as Breka plopped herself down into a chair covered with cushions. He placed the Tome of Eyes in front of her, and took a closer look.

Golden filigree had been used to artfully trace a cityscape on the black leather, with miniscule silver beads scattered across the top to mimic stars. It was beautiful. And probably expensive. I wonder if his family will miss it. He felt his lips tighten. Why would he feel bad for a man who’d almost had him killed? But he did.

“I feel a bit bad taking it,” he said. “He said it was a family heirloom, and it seemed important to him.” 

Breka looked up, eyes sharpening. “Don’t start feeling things like that, boy. There are no free meals on the path I offered you. Everything is a fight for resources. If a freely given gift is enough to make you hesitate, then I worry for your future.”

His mouth twisted in a soft grimace. “Don’t worry, I’ll do what I have to do. But I can still feel bad.”

“Hmm,” Breka replied, eyes still on his face. “Maybe. But feeling a certain way is just one step from acting a certain way. You think I’m being harsh, but I’m not. Feel bad for a fighter across from you on the sands and you’re a dead man, whatever you tell yourself about ‘doing what you have to do’.”

Elliot cocked his head. “What sands?”

She sighed. “It’s an expression, boy. Don’t you have something to do? You won’t have free time for long, you know.”

“Yes, actually,” he replied, glancing over at his jeans with the spatial pocket. “I’m going to the market to try to sell the scales.” And to try to forget about my absolutely awful last twenty-four hours.

“Leave the Tome with me,” she said, taking another puff from the pipe. “I’ll make sure it's fine for your skill.”

He went over and fished out the scales. The pants needed to be laundered at some point today so he could start wearing his spatial pocket. As he passed the supply pack, he reached in and rifled through until he found the rolled up map. It didn’t seem as important now that he knew how rough the journey was, but he still wanted a look. “I’ll see you later.”

She waved vaguely in his direction, already back to examining the cover.

Stepping outside, he unrolled the map. It was elegantly inked, clearly handmade by someone who knew what they were doing. There was a large extent of forest to the west, and then three countries to the east: Remmir, Sumeris, and part of a nation called Quintara, the sequence descending from north to south. At the far east of the map, a hint of Andaluse—the country Breka had named in her interrogation—was showing across the borders of Remmir and Sumeris.

It was discouraging to look at. From the scale the map represented about one and a half thousand miles from top to bottom. So much wilderness, multiple nations, yet it was barely a twentieth of what he would have to cross.

He rolled it up briskly and slid it into his belt. He’d never get anything done if he spent his time wallowing. He had a path, now. He had to focus on that.

It was a quick walk down to the market but he paused one level above, eyeing the mass of people with apprehension. The thick crowd seemed crazy for a tiny frontier town. Tents and stalls were everywhere, vendors shouting back and forth at both pedestrians and each other. Some of the stands were selling food, and his mouth watered as he saw a particularly delicious-looking rack of meat skewers. A group of children were shouting and throwing a leather ball back and forth as they darted between the tents and carts, engendering their fair share of curses as they came perilously close to shoppers and merchants alike.

If there was time, he wanted to try to find a vendor selling drawing supplies, although he wasn’t sure what those would look like here. Sketching helped him focus, and kept him calm, both things he found himself sorely in need of.

Steeling himself, he tried to spot someone who might work with animal parts. Nearest to him was a cluster of tents that seemed to be selling mostly metal cookware, but not far past it he could see a tent with a variety of leathers on display. He sighed. Who would buy monster scales? What do they get used for? Decoration?

Fishing out one of the scales from his pocket, he fixed his mind on the idea of utility. Who would use this, who would want this, who would buy this. He used [Detailed Appraisal]. All the old information came rushing back first: scales from a marsh drake worth roughly a clip each, ten clips to a silver, ten silvers to a gold, etc. Without even pushing the ability, he could tell there was more. These scales could be affixed to leather armor, letting it remain light-weight while adding a significant layer of defense. Alchemists could also use them for a variety of products, as could enchanters and artificers. Elliot’s head spun with the information; a rudimentary understanding of these new professions suddenly available to him.

Squaring his shoulders, he descended the steep stone stairs and dove into the mess, ducking and weaving his way towards the tent with the leathers. No less than five people tried to sway him toward their goods on the way, but a quick dart forward while smiling and waving got him through each time.

Arriving at the tent, the first thing he noticed was the smell. Not the ripe odor his own marsh drake leg had been closing in on, but rather the smell of wax and oil mixed with the light musk of animal hide. The woman sitting among the wares was small, and as soon as he saw her Elliot came to a sudden halt, staring.

“Hello! Welcome to my tent. May your day be warm and bright, and your path smooth. Can I offer any guidance?” she said. Her appearance was almost human, but with a thick patch of red and gold tufted feathers running up one side of her neck and over part of her face. Her eyes were ice white, and a few—much longer—matching white feathers were tied into her braided hair with thick twine.

“I…yes, ah…” Elliot tried furiously to get ahold of himself. This was fantasy land, of course there could be fantasy people! Stop staring like a moron and ask about the scales.

“You have not met my people before, yes?” she asked, smiling warmly. “Know peace, Marchman. That’s the beauty of trade. With the right goods, and the right price, any gap can be bridged. My name is Yehi.”

Elliot smiled. He wasn’t usually quick to warm to strangers, but something about the feathered woman put him at ease. “Thanks. My name is Elliot, and I’m embarrassed to say calling me ignorant would be an understatement. I don’t know much about…anything.”

“Few do,” she said with a shrug. “Knowing you don’t know is the beginning of wisdom. Now, what do you seek? Or is it as a seller that you come to me?”

“Yes, actually.” He held out the scales, wrapped in a small piece of cloth. “Do you have any need for these?”

She gently plucked one scale from the pile, raising a glass eyepiece from the red leather belt at her waist. “Marsh drake scale. I would consider it, but for less than what you might find elsewhere. A guard with my caravan killed a marsh drake on our passage in, and so scales I have already.”

“Ah,” Elliot replied, considering. “What price would you take?”

“Two clips for every three scales.”

Ten clips for all fifteen. A third less than the value [Detailed Appraisal] had provided. But it can’t possibly give an exact price, since the value would depend on who I’m selling it to. It must be a rough estimate.

He hesitated. It would be smarter to go elsewhere and look for someone who would pay more. Yehi had even told him what she offered was under market value. But he felt more comfortable here than he’d thought he would, and the idea of being done with the whole affair was deeply appealing, especially now that he didn’t have to worry about immediate needs like food and shelter. He sighed. That was a pretty poor attitude for someone with a merchant profession, but there it was.

Before he could make a decision, he saw the merchant’s eyes flick over his shoulder, which was his only warning someone else had entered the tent.

“I must speak with you,” came a familiar voice. 

Elliot turned his head, raising an eyebrow at Hadrian. “Right now? I’m trying to sell these scales.”

The hunter looked at him blankly. Not frowning, but somehow conveying a sense of disapproval nonetheless. 

“Fine,” Elliot said, turning back to Yehi. “Sorry, I’ll just be a second.”

“There is no need for worries here, Elliot. Go in peace and return as you will.”

Hadrian had already stepped out, pausing a short ways off as he waited for Elliot to follow. The chosen spot was at the nexus of another tent and two food stalls, but by existing behind all three it managed to seem almost private despite the loud swirl of people all around.

“What did you say to my master?” Hadrian said softly as Elliot stepped over.

“Excuse me? What do you mean?”

Hadrian frowned. “I just spoke with Breka and she announced that, in the few hours since I last saw her, she had committed to housing you, feeding you, training you, and using you for—“ he broke off, clenching his jaw. “Using you for purposes related to our work. You have an unfortunate history, and you do not seem to be aligned against us, but somehow you shifted her position from sheltering you for a few days to taking complete responsibility for your life and learning in the span of a morning. I want to know what was said.”

“You think I manipulated her? Wasn’t she the one you brought me to when you weren’t sure about my story? Why would you suddenly doubt her now?”

“Do not twist this. Breka is wise and skilled, but also impulsive beyond measure. This will not be the first time our plans have changed due to a sudden whim, but this is the first time she has invited a stranger into our lives. You two must have discussed something that caused this.”

Elliot almost snapped back that it was none of the other man’s business, but then swallowed it. No need for a fight if he could just explain himself. “If you must know, I think she’d been thinking about the possibility because of my background and my spatial skill, but I had an interaction with the Sunsguard and learned something about the stuff going on here. I decided to warn her about it rather than leave, and she appreciated that.”

“That was all?” Hadrian asked, eyes narrowing. “One warning, and you are now our responsibility?”

“Hey,” Elliot replied, his own eyes narrowing in turn. Fine, you want to fight? “I didn’t ask for this. You should be taking this up with Breka, not me. And don’t get the wrong idea—this isn’t charity. She has a plan for me, and she clearly intends for me to serve some purpose.” He leaned in further, putting himself right in front of Hadrian’s face. “And you know what? You think you’re shocked by a sudden turn of events? My whole life changed overnight. My only family is gone. And when Breka made her offer, an offer that is, incidentally, my only meaningful chance of finding my sister, I had no choice but to accept despite the fact that I still have no idea what the both of you actually do and what I’m committing myself to.” The last part came out as a hiss.

Hadrian’s eyes widened, and his mouth gaped slightly, more of an emotional reaction than Elliot had ever seen from him. “No choice but to accept? No choice? As if you are being treated poorly? Do you have any idea how many—” He came to an abrupt halt, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. “You have no idea what you have been offered.”

“Maybe not, but I know there’s something that’s going to be asked for in return, and I don’t know what it is. You really don’t understand why that puts me in a vulnerable position? And Breka showed me how hard she can punch, just so you know. There’s absolutely nothing I could do if she decided all of a sudden to kick me out on a mountainside somewhere and renege on the deal.”

Hadrian snorted. “I very much doubt she showed you any such thing.” He looked less stiff than before, and had transitioned from annoyed to long-suffering. “So this is what it will be. I will be asked to help train a merchant of the first circle—of the first step, no less.” He sighed. “I will expect you to work hard.”

“I already had this conversation with Breka!” Elliot practically shouted, throwing up his hands. “I don’t need another lecture. I’ll work hard.”

“Calm yourself,” Hadrian replied, for all the world as if he hadn’t initiated the entire confrontation. “There are too many too close. Let us return to the merchant so you may finish your transaction.”

“Yes, let’s,” Elliot said, forcing his voice to sound relatively normal through an effort of will, although he couldn’t quite wipe the scowl off his face. “What do you do? I’d even take whatever job you pretend to do at this point.” But Hadrian had already strode away, ignoring the inquiry. As he followed, Elliot couldn’t help but think this was going to be a deeply frustrating endeavor.