Chapter 288: Chapter 274 – Cooks and Crooks VI

Chapter 274 - Cooks and Crooks VI

“Mmmnnn… I know she told us to come up with something, but I dunno where we’re even supposed to start.”

A fairy-shaped Sylvia pondered the question from her position atop her mount's head. The two halfbreeds were wandering aimlessly through the city, in search of an evening meal and an accompanying chef. While Natalya had headed west, towards a known hunting ground for beginners, the other two were southbound. There was nothing in particular that fueled their decision. Claire had simply picked a random direction and started walking.

"We can start by looking for a chef," said the lyrkress. "There might be some looking for work. Now that half the noble houses have fallen."

There had been a number of rather gruesome executions as of late. To the queen's enemies, the mantid warrior in her back pocket was an icon of death. He wandered haphazardly into their estates, destroyed all their guards, and claimed their lives for the throne. It didn't matter where in the country their homes were, or even where exactly they ran. He would remove their heads all the same. The only ones he spared were warriors that impressed him. It was technically against his orders—he had been instructed to leave no one alive—but his bad habits remained exactly as they were.

By the time he had been transformed into a eunuch, the reaper had ended seventeen of the thirty-six bloodlines that stood in opposition. He would be continuing the duty following his recovery, for while there was a comprehensive list of candidates available for the queen's choosing, as well as a number of officials hounding for her to produce an heir, the royal harem was yet empty. The squid knew her duty, but she remained somewhat reluctant to admit any individuals with which she had little personal connection. Her hopes were pinned on Alfred’s abilities; she wouldn’t be forced into reproduction if he was able to repair her kin.

“Mmmnnn… maybe. But we’re not just gonna randomly find one walking around. It’s not like they have their chef clothes on in public.”

“I know,” said Claire, with her eyes averted.

“And plus, they’re probably just gonna go check the job board anyway,” said Sylvia. “So we’re probably better off just posting something and waiting for someone to show up.”

The longmoose shrugged off the reply as she closed her eyes and considered the options, her ears keeping her feet on track in the meantime.

In and of itself, finding a skilled chef was not an impossible task. Asking the erdbrechers and arviads was all it would take; the newcomers were still looking for work in the city and had plenty of talent to spare. But the problem there was the cultural gap. While they would likely find success opening restaurants branded expressly as foreign, they were less likely to draw in the locals long term. And for that, they would need someone well-versed in traditional Vel’khanese foods.

“We could try asking the pirates,” said Claire.

“Mmnnn…” Sylvia plopped herself down in her seat and crossed her arms. “I guess that could work, since we can just beat them up if they start acting up. But are pirates actually any good at cooking?”

“They might be.”

The lyrkress spun around and started heading north instead. While the southern wharf had once been rather pirate-infested, a particularly boring grinding session had more or less emptied it out. Since then, it had been repurposed into a minor military base, taken over by one queen and then the other.

They made a few stops on the way through the city, pausing every time a food stall grabbed the fox’s attention. Though barely any larger than a stack of copper coins, fairy-Sylvia had been placed in charge of handling the money and given a hand-sewn purse just for the occasion, containing only as much cash as the two halfbreeds needed for dinner.

Claire wasn’t particularly interested in the cheap eats, but she shoved a few random things down her throat nonetheless. She needed to keep her energy up—or at least that was what she assumed. The chimeric abomination of a body provided by her second ascension continued to prove itself a mystery. She had no idea how much food she needed exactly, or even how frequently she needed to eat. Her stomach rarely ever complained, and it was easily sated in the few cases that it did. Sylvia had suspected that her needs had to do with the size and frequencies of the forms she assumed, but that hypothesis had already been proven false. A full day’s worth of qiligon combat had left her no more hungry than an idle day of humanoid rest.

By the time they reached the port, the pair had already eaten their fill. They had stopped by a total of ten different stalls, almost all of which had sold some sort of fish or other. It was a clear bias, but Claire didn’t complain. It wasn’t as if she had anything against the fox’s favourite.

While the northern wharf was certainly home to an unhealthy number of outlaws, it was difficult to determine whether a given individual was a pirate or simply a regular citizen. Eavesdropping certainly would have allowed the pair to gradually pick out individuals from the crowd, but the lyrkress had a much better idea. She marched straight towards a familiar pet shop and snuck a glance through the glass.

“Hey, wait a second! Isn’t this that one place with the really weird sheep?”

“Goats,” said Claire.

“Huh?”

“They were goats.” She moved the fairy over to her shoulder and pulled her hood over her head as she opened the door.

A familiar female clerk was at the desk. Though a few weeks had passed, she looked no less haggard than she had been on their first encounter. She was pale, sporting heavy bags beneath her eyes, despite the number of expensive-looking pharmaceuticals sitting on the shelf behind her. When the sleep-deprived desk lady spotted the customer, courtesy of the bell attached to the door, she immediately twisted her face into a scowl.

“What do you want?” asked the unenthusiastic siren.

“Tell me about the pirates you’re with.”

“What are you talking about?” The clerk moved a hand under the counter as Claire approached the desk. There was an accompanying metallic clink as she grabbed a weapon of some sort, likely a dagger or other small arm.

“We’ve been here before.” The lyrkress pointed in the hatch’s general direction. It didn’t quite seem like her voice was jogging the animal doctor’s memory, so she continued with a list. “Talking fox. Metal lizard. Floating manatee.” She pulled her hood as well, albeit only until the siren’s eyes flashed with recognition.

“You’re the one that came during the storm,” said the brunette.

Claire nodded.

“Yeah! I was here too!” said Sylvia. “Remember?”

The vet furrowed her brow and shook her head. “Sorry. I don’t.”

“What the heck!? How come you remember her, but not me!? That’s just rude!”

“I can’t remember every face that walks through the door.” She pulled her hand out from under the counter and leaned forward. “So what do you want to know? Oh, and before I get started,” she pulled out a small card, made of sea-stained timber and stamped with a lizard’s skull, “I am technically registered, and I charge the standard fee.”

Claire and Sylvia took a moment to exchange glances, with one blank, and the other clearly confused.

“Uhhh… what do you mean, registered?” asked the fox, after a brief delay.

“Oh boy.” The vet pinched her nose. “I don’t suppose you’ll leave if I ask, will you?”

“Nope,” said Claire, with a shake of the head.

“I figured.” The vet spun around in her chair and pointed at one of the posters behind her. “I’m an information broker, and this card means I’m registered with the state. I deal in facts and rumours. The standard rates are on the chart. No haggling.”

“Oh uhmmm…” Sylvia placed her hands behind her back and turned her eyes away. “We kinda just spent all our money on food. I’m pretty sure we only have a few coppers left.”

The vet’s eye twitched. It didn’t stop until she grabbed a vial of Liquid Happiness and swallowed its contents in a single breath. “Get out.” By the looks of it, the drug was completely ineffective.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Sylvia waved her arms. “You’re a vet, right?”

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“Get. Out.” A second vial was drained.

“What if, instead of paying you the normal way, I healed all the pets you have upstairs?”

“First of all, that isn’t possible. And second, I don’t have any time to play your little games. Get out.”

“Ughhhhh! Now you’re just being stubborn.” The fairy puffed up her cheeks. “You know what? Fine! I’ll just do it then!”

She clapped her hands together and warped the whole group to the building’s second floor. A trio of alarmed birds and mice started to squeak and bark at the top of their lungs, while a tiny shoggoth shrieked like a maniac. Still, she continued to bring her hands together until she wove the noisy chorus into a haphazard melody. Visible notes worked their way into the various pens and cages. Some of the animals shied away, while others curiously greeted the magic with their paws and snouts. Either way, they were enveloped in a faint purple light that did away with their wounds. Mangy fur was made pristine, improperly healed limbs were snapped back into place, and missing teeth were regrown. Even the particularly ill were revived. A coughing cat had its lungs cleaned out, and an unlucky fox, which for some odd reason was completely lacking in elven ancestry, saw its brain stem freed from the rabid plague.

“There! Done.” With one last clap, she brought the impromptu performance to an end, leaving the animals to chirp excitedly, and the vet to stare in stunned silence. After taking a few moments to flap her mouth open and closed, she ran to each of the holding areas and inspected her various patients. She was careful at first, taking a solid two minutes to inspect a poorly grown bone for any signs of improper shape, but each examination was faster than the last. After the fifth, she pulled out a box of delusionaid from one of her pockets and applied a strip to her nose.

“You have to be kidding.” When she finally broke the silence, she did so with her eyes on the tiny fairy. “That was just a basic healer’s hymn.”

“Yup!” said the singer in question.

“You’d have to be nearing a thousand for it to work that well.” She carefully observed the bipedal vixen, who gulped and hid herself behind her noble steed. Only her head would poke out eventually, but the animal doctor’s eyes followed her regardless. “Alright, you know what? Fine,” she said. “I’ll tell you what you want for now, and you can pay me for it later.”

“Okay!” Sylvia climbed up onto her usual chair, only to freeze again. “Hey! Wait a second! We still have to pay!?”

“Of course.”

“What the heck!? I literally just saved you a whole buttload of work!”

“And did I ask for any of it?”

“Huh?”

“I never accepted your proposal. You went ahead and did it on your own.” The chronic medicine drinker crossed her arms and leaned her back against the nearest pillar.

“Now you’re just being unfair.” Sylvia puffed up her cheeks.

“We were talking business,” said the clerk, with a casual shrug. “If we come to an agreement, then it’s always fair.”

“You’re right,” said Claire. “Methods don’t matter.” She slowly channelled her mana through her body and formed an icy dagger in her hands. “And I don’t care if you talk.” She played with the blade, lightly tossing it around, even as her eyes remained perfectly fixed on her prey. “Your allies will come running if I just destroy your shop.”

There was a brief pause, a staring contest that the vet soon lost.

“Alright, alright. I get it.” She raised her hands and showed her empty palms. “I couldn’t help myself. Your friend was just too easy, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try an extra little bit,” she muttered. “And it’s not like that spell cost her much. Maybe just a couple points of mana.”

“Hey! It was like a couple hundred,” said the fox, with a pout.

“And how many do you regenerate in a second?”

“Uhhh… like a couple m—”

Claire pinched the half-elf’s mouth shut. “Stop. She’s just trying to get more information out of you.”

“Oh… Wow, what the heck! That’s plain evil!”

“Information brokers are awful people,” said the two-legged chair. “I bet she’d sell out her own father, for the right price.”

“Really?” said Sylvia, wide-eyed.

“Really. You have to keep your guard up.”

“Mmmk… I’ll try.”

“I hope you realise I’m still listening,” muttered the double-crosser.

“I do,” said Claire, with a smile. “Now how about you tell us about those pirates? For free, of course.”

“Fine. But let’s relocate first. I don’t like leaving the storefront unattended.” She pushed herself off the pillar and started walking down the long, open hall with her hands in her pockets. Though they could have teleported just as easily, the halfbreeds followed her two flights of stairs. It was only the third floor that served as an animal hospital. The second was more shop-like, featuring animal feed, litter boxes, and other supplies aplenty.

“Uhhhh, is it just me, or are you guys kinda understaffed?” asked Sylvia, with a tilt of the head. Though the store was large enough to merit a whole team, the vet was the only worker in sight. Of course, there were a few others underground, but they were hardly willing to help with the more honest side of the business.

“We are,” grumbled the brunette. “Honestly, I’m a bit tempted to quit myself. I’ve had enough. I’m supposed to be a doctor, not a vet.”

“Is there a difference?” asked Sylvia.

“Yes,” said Claire. “Now stop distracting her. She needs to tell us about pira—” Claire paused for a moment before grabbing the information broker by the shoulder and stopping her from descending a second flight of stairs. “Wait.”

“What?”

“What will you do when you quit?”

The vet met the lyrkress’ eyes with a suspicious, studying look. “What’s it to you?”

“I might just have an offer you can’t possibly refuse.” A grin emerged upon her lips, a predatory smile that sent a cold shiver down the animal doctor’s spine.