Chapter 104: Chapter One Hundred and One: Attic Attack

“Chosen One, come on. There’s no swarms in here to attack you,” Qube said, attempting to coax the Hero of all Human and Human-Adjacent Beings into the strange-smelling shop. The last time they had been there the shop had been completely empty. The owner, Apothecary Joycelyn, had wanted to start a new tailoring business, and had needed them to gather some special berries so she could make potions and dyes. 

 

What had once been a silent and still room was now filled with bubbling vats, drying swatches, and various eye-wateringly clashing combinations of clothing and potion colours. Apothecary Joycelyn, who had yet to greet the people actually in her shop, continued to stare unblinkingly at the Hero across the street.

 

“I’m not the one on trial here; let those two get it,” the Chosen One muttered, his shield and Sacred Sword at the ready.

 

Qube paused. He was right. This was a job for Sewer Bard and Sexy Screamy Spider Lady — she shouldn’t be getting involved, or encouraging others to interfere. In fact, that might jeopardise the whole mission if the rulers found out that the candidates had received outside help!

 

Not for the role of ruler, of course. Given that Sexy Screamy Spider Lady was their only child, the Thorny Crown trial was obviously just a formality, but it could potentially impact Sewer Bard’s application for Head Guard!

 

“Definitely Bad Guy, Squiggles!” Qube hissed, suddenly very aware of just how obviously they were with Sewer Bard. “Get out of the shop! Quick, come stand across the street!”

 

As the Mage and team mascot hurried over to her (Squiggles noticeably reluctant to leave Sewer Bard and Sexy Screamy Spider Lady) Qube crouched next to the Chosen One.

 

“Do you think they’ll be able to get the birthday present?” she whispered. 

 

“I honestly don’t know,” he replied. “That’s part of the reason I don’t want to get involved. I want to see how far they can get.”

 

“Hopefully they can get all the way through the trial,” Qube said. She had to resist the urge to go and tell the pair how much she believed in them. Would overt displays of encouragement count as helping? What could she do that wasn’t helpful and supportive?

 

Qube’s whole life was helping!

 

“Hello, my good woman,” she heard Sewer Bard say. Risking a look, Qube noticed that Apothecary Joycelyn had yet to break eye contact with the Chosen One.

 

“We’re here for Snugglepuss’s birthday present,” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady said. Slowly, Apothecary Joycelyn turned her head away from the Chosen One and looked at Sexy Screamy Spider Lady. The Hunter extended two claws.

 

“The birthday present… is in... the attic,” Apothecary Joycelyn said very, very slowly. Unlike before, where she had been bouncing with enthusiasm and practically tripping over her own words, she now seemed to be struggling to speak. She shook her head slightly, as if to clear it. “Yes. It’s in the attic. You will have to go and fetch it. Be careful though —  sometimes I hear bumping in the night from up there. It’s probably ghosts!”

 

“I knew it!” the Chosen One yelled from outside.

 

“Then we shall sally forth into the attic!” Sewer Bard sounded more cheerful than Qube had heard him in a long time. “Come, my fair Hunter, let us gather the fluffy Snugglepuss’s well-earned gift!”

 

Quite what the giant, hissing ball of claws had done to earn a birthday gift in the eyes of the Bard, Qube wasn’t sure. Surely the point of a birthday gift was a reward for surviving another year, rather than because of any particular deed done on the part of the birthday being?

 

It felt strange, watching Sewer Bard and Sexy Screamy Spider Lady walk upstairs to the attic. Sure, part of that was because Sexy Screamy Spider Lady kept getting stuck in the stairs and wildly flailing her way free, but another part was because this was the first time Qube had watched the other companions going on an adventure without either the Chosen One or her.

 

The Chosen One was also watching with keen interest.

 

“So, I know you’ve been able to trigger flags in quests before,” he told Qube, who faithfully tried to follow along, “but I’m curious to see if they can. I dunno what it means if they can, but something — oh, yup, music’s changed.”

 

Qube looked around, trying to pinpoint what in their current situation had changed. The “music” of the environment had changed — was it the fact that one of the wood elves pretending to be rebuilding the village had just come around the corner? Had some birds been spooked into flight? What, exactly, had made things different?

 

She was just about to ask the Chosen One to elaborate when there was a massive thump from the attic, followed by a suspicious silence.

 

“Huh. Looks like they were able to activate it after all,” the Chosen One said. “Wouldn’t have expected it. I wonder what’s up there? Wait, what if there’s loot? I didn’t tell them to look for any. We’ll have to go check out the area afterwards, just to make sure.”

 

He lapsed back into silence as he continued to watch the attic.

 

Qube was just about ready to burst from impatience by the time she heard the telltale scrabbling of Sexy Screamy Spider Lady trying to get down the stairs.

 

“You really should get your attic looked at, darling,” she told Apothecary Joycelyn, who had reverted back to staring at the Chosen One. “There were a bunch of adorable little rapscallions in there. They appear to have been hoarding everything shiny in the area.”

 

The Chosen One perked up, and immediately started towards the store.

 

“Chosen One, wait! We don’t want to interfere with their quest!” Qube hissed. The Chosen One paused.

 

“It is, as always, a pleasure to do business with one as lovely as yourself,” Sewer Bard said, bowing to Apothecary Joycelyn. Sewer Bard was looking even more cheerful than before. He was practically bouncing with each step, and seemed very pleased with himself.

 

As soon as the Bard and Hunter had left the shop, the Chosen One entered it.

 

“Welcome, welcome!” Apothecary Joycelyn said. “I’ve been developing new potions and new fashions, thanks to the berries you gave me! I’ve developed a dye that will make your hair a different colour! Please, take a free sample! What colour would you like? I’m partial to pink!”

 

The Chosen One was immediately diverted from his attic-centric loot mission to this free sample loot mission.

 

“Wait, put all the free samples out. I want to see all the colours,” he said. As Apothecary Joycelyn obeyed, he gave a sly grin.

 

“Chosen One,” Qube said warningly. She knew that expression. The Chosen One jumped slightly, and gave her a shamefaced look.

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“I wasn’t going to steal anything!” he said, far too quickly.

 

“Of course not,” Qube said with slightly less sincerity than usual. “I just wanted to remind you that Apothecary Joycleyn here is just starting her new business and so is probably struggling.”

 

The Chosen One pulled a face.

 

“Why did I start teaching you about economics…” he muttered to himself. He thought for a second. “Oh! You should go make sure that those two actually got the birthday present; I forgot to ask them.”

 

Qube instantly stepped outside the shop and looked at Sexy Screamy Spider Lady and Sewer Bard. Sewer Bard was strumming on his lute, snatches of the mermaid’s song floating in the air. Sexy Screamy Spider Lady was starting to walk back to the home where Snugglepuss and his owner lived, before abruptly changing her mind and walking back towards Qube and Chosen One, then once again changing her mind again and heading back to hand in the present. She was probably impatient to get going.

 

“Did you get the birthday present?” Qube asked. Sewer Bard looked up from his playing, and nodded. “Excellent! We’re just going to check the attic for loot, so wait here,” she said cheerfully, waving at her friends as she turned back to the store.

 

“Thank you,” Sewer Bard said, so quietly that she almost missed it. She paused, and looked over her shoulder. 

 

“You’re welcome!” she said automatically. “Wait, what are you thanking me for?”

 

But the Bard merely smiled, and went back to his playing.

 

Dismissing the conversation as something she would ask him about later (and uneasily aware of just how many things were piling up in her mental to-do list) Qube ran past Apothecary Joycelyn, who seemed to have put away all her dye samples, and up the stairs to the attic. 

 

The sight that greeted her was one beyond her wildest imagination.

 

In the village, there were forest creatures. Harmless, cute, and fuzzy, animals such as hedgehogs, racoons, and wombats would stroll about, occasionally digging up one of the villager’s gardens or stealing tasty food before the Rogue could. There’d even been a very big, very blind pig called Francis Bacon who liked to escape and run around the woods until the Potential Chosen Ones and their Potential Companions could catch him and bring him back.

 

So, Qube recognised the possums in the attic. 

 

All fifty of them.

 

All of them were facing the floor next to the doorway, standing on their hind legs and swaying, as if to some unheard music. Their red eyes were fixed not, for once, on the Chosen One, but on what Qube quickly realised was a direct line to the street below where the rest of the party were waiting for them. The attic’s roof was low, with multiple crates piled up, each sporting a cluster of possums. Several of the possums were holding the berries the group had brought Apothecary Joycleyn. 

 

“Look at their tiny little hands!” Qube tried (and failed) to resist the urge to squeal.

 

The Chosen One did not seem as enthused about the fifty mesmerised possums’ tiny little hands.

 

“They’re like little people hands!” Qube explained. “But tiny!” This, however, didn’t seem to invigorate the Chosen One with the expected joy. Instead, he was slowly backing away from the mass of marsupials.

 

“Oh, this is so creepy,” the Chosen One said. He looked from Qube, to the dusty crates, to the possums, then followed the beasts’ gazes to the corner of the attic next to them. As his eyes narrowed, Qube realised he must be making the same calculations that she had. Suddenly, all the possums shifted their fixed stare slightly to the left.

 

“Sewer Bard!” the Chosen One yelled, before turning and clattering down the stairs. Qube followed him, and was just in time to see him burst out onto the street and storm towards the Bard.

 

“Hey, so, quick question,” the Chosen One said, his casual tone at odds with his fast approach. The party members all turned and looked at him. “Anyone wanna explain what the [fiddle] is going on up there?” The Hero looked directly at Sewer Bard. “Cuz that looks an awful lot like mind control. And I specifically said not to use the fishlady song.”

 

Sewer Bard abruptly stopped playing his lute. For a second he looked genuinely confused.

 

“Forgive me, Noble Patron,” he said, sweeping his hat off his head. “I thought that applied only to the battle in the Shadow Temple. I did not realise that it was a general ban on the [Siren Song] spell.”

 

“I — yeah, okay, fair play, I should have been clearer on that,” the Chosen One said. Qube beamed at his graceful acknowledgement of miscommunication. “But I don’t want you using that unless I specifically order you to, okay?”

 

“Your wish is ever my command, Noble Patron,” Sewer Bard said smoothly. “May this humble Bard know the reason for such a request, though?”

 

The Chosen One narrowed his eyes at the Bard. “Are you being sarcastic?” he asked suspiciously. Sewer Bard’s face was locked into an expression of polite diplomacy. The Chosen One’s eyes narrowed further.

 

“It’s a powerful spell,” Qube said, as she reached the Chosen One’s side. Sewer Bard and the Chosen One both looked at her. “Is there something wrong with it?”

 

“Yeah, it’s more powerful than you know,” the Chosen One said with a sigh. He turned back to Sewer Bard. “Look, that spell has… side effects, specifically to me. When that mermaid used it, it genuinely messed with my emotions in a way that it shouldn’t have been able to. As awesome as that was, and could potentially be, it’s still too powerful. It’s supposed to be fixed now, but it’s just safer if you don’t use it.”

 

“I would never use a spell that endangers you, Noble Patron,” Sewer Bard said, with his most elaborate bow. “Thank you for trusting me.”

 

“Hey, what are friends for?” The Chosen One brushed off the Bard’s thanks and clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, go check in the attic for loot. Those things creep me out too much.”

 

Sewer Bard sighed.

 

“Of course, Noble Patron,” he said, and went back into the shop.

 

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