Chapter 22: Chapter 22: 2+2 =4 and four is the frog-number, which means that there is danger around. Be careful

“Boy… I sure do feel funny,” says the receptionist, staring down at her hands.

 

Hineni clears his throat, trying to get her attention back to the ledger. Instead of drifting off to sleep the entire time, the elf just seems to be drifting off into her newly rediscovered sense of being awake and aware. She wiggles her fingers, almost seeming surprised at them moving at her behest, before she looks back towards the ledger. “So you have to write this over here,” she explains. “Then deduct five percent for income taxes because it’s a custom order. There’s a different rate than for these ready-made weapons,” she says, pointing at the three-hundred Obols at the start of his numbers. His very first sale to the guild, the odd short-sword with no pommel.

 

“…Taxes?” asks Hineni, looking back up towards her.

 

She nods once, but as her head moves downward, she doesn’t lift it back up immediately, as if she were following some well-versed routine of muscle-memory. Blinking, she lifts her head again fully a moment later. “Taxes.”

 

Hineni adjusts his scarf, looking at her and then at the book. He lifts his gaze again. “I’ve never paid taxes,” says the man plainly. He taps the number. “Three-hundred. I sold it for three-hundred. I kept three-hundred.”

 

“Oooh, you’re gonna get in trouble~,” she says, shaking her head and tsking with her tongue a few times.

 

Hineni shrugs. “I don’t use anything from the city. Why would I pay taxes?” asks Hineni.

 

“Property taxes?” she asks, nodding to the building. Turning her head, she points over her shoulder at the workmen, who are busy replacing the damaged floor. “Taxes for services?”

 

“I’m paying them. They’re not from the city.”

 

She shakes her head. “Hired services go under your expenditures, here,” she says, pointing at the line in the book. “But since you’re a prosi, you can claim religious affiliation, which will let you deduct eight-percent from all maintenance costs on your place of worship,” she explains. “Those get cut from your yearly property tax then at the end. It's a good deal.“

 

Hineni can feel himself becoming lost in the numbers. This is the third time she’s told him about some loophole or fee or due or tax that he ought to be paying, or at the very least, paying attention to. “I think I’m going to go bankrupt,” says Hineni.

 

“Frogs?” asks Obscura, hovering down from the rafters, sitting down next to him in her humanish form. “We eat frogs? Forever? Yes?”

 

“If this keeps going, we’ll have nothing left to eat but frogs,” sighs Hineni. “I had no idea this stuff was so complicated,” says the man. “I just want to make weapons.”

 

“Many,” hoots the owl-goddess.

 

“Many weapons,” agrees Hineni.

 

The elf blinks, staring at the two of them. She tilts her head, squinting. “Uh…”

 

“Many,” repeats Obscura. “Sock-elf!” she hoots, spreading her arms out wide. Hineni ducks backwards against the booth as her taloned fist flies past his face.

 

He hadn’t considered it before, but apparently the receptionist had met Obscura once already. Back when Hineni needed medical treatment at the adventurer’s guild. She had come here to get him some clothes. Here she had encountered Obscura. They seem to get along decently enough though. Obscura didn’t have the same interest in bullying her as she did Rhine, for whatever reason. Though, he isn’t sure why she calls her the ‘sock-elf’. Maybe because she came to get his socks? Though she did get his other clothes too. “Mighty Obscura claims you!”

 

“…Huh?” asks the receptionist.

 

“MINE!” she hoots, planting her taloned hands on the table. “You will GIVE your numbers to OBSCURA!” she hoots, hissing greedily.

 

“Uh…” the receptionist thinks for a second, apparently still not sure which part of reality she finds herself in. “I don’t have any nature-magic, so I don’t know if an owl-god is allowed to claim me?” she ponders. “Actually, I just kind of do desk-work these days, you know?”

 

Gods are essentially allowed to claim people for their cause if they fall under their jurisdiction. So, if the fire-god just so happened to see a fire-wizard that they thought was useful, the god would have first choice on them, should the caster decide to join a temple.

 

Hineni extends a hand out, gently pushing Obscura back down to her seat. “Reverence!” she hoots at him.

 

“Be nice to guests,” he says, looking back at the elf. “I’m out of my league. Will you help us? I’ll pay you with some of the money from selling weapons.”

 

The receptionist thinks for a moment. “I can’t. I need to go to work soon, the morning shift is starting in a little.”

 

Hineni taps a finger against the table. “And then?”

 

“And then I have to start the afternoon shift,” she replies, her features becoming much more slack all of a sudden.

 

“And then?” asks the man, nodding his head. He has her now. The trap is sprung.

 

She thinks for a moment, the renewed life in her eyes starting to fade with surprising speed. “…And then I have to start the late shift.”

 

Hineni nods. “What happens then?” he asks.

 

Her eyes fall dead to the table. “…Don’t you know?” asks the receptionist. “After the late shift, that’s when the morning shift starts.”

 

She stares at the table and the room is silent for a while, apart from the sounds of the carpenters at work.

 

“Tell Beni to give you a shift off,” says Hineni. “You can sleep here for half of it and then do the numbers for the other half. Win-win.” Obscura makes an odd, hissing sound as he says the man’s name.

 

The elf shakes her head. “It’s not in the budget. We have another receptionist, but he’s been on paid sick-leave for half a year now. So it’s just me.”

 

“The Beni…” hoots Obscura, her eyes darting around the table as they grow wide and paranoid. “Four. Four! He has… four. B. E. N. I!” Hineni turns his head, looking at her, not sure what she’s going on about. She shoots up to her feet, as if she had realized something. Though, Hineni hasn’t the faintest clue. “The bad frogs stole my Hineni!” shouts Obscura, rather out of the blue. “HINENI!” she hoots, her voice cracking. She twitches as she looks around the room. “Frog has four. Beni has four. WHO~!”

 

There’s an explosion of feathers and before Hineni has time to figure out what’s going on, she’s gone.

 

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The two of them stare for a moment. “Uh… well, this was nice. But I need to get to work now,” says the confused receptionist. “I hope I could help. I’ve never had a god interested in me before,” she says, sighing as she gets up, scooting out of the booth.

 

Hineni looks after her. “If I can convince Beni to give you a shift off, would you be interested?”

 

The elf looks at him for a moment, before looking around the odd wreck of a house. She sees Rhine, who is sweeping the floors and stares at him for a moment. Feeling himself being watched, Rhine lifts his gaze to her. Hineni didn’t have anything else for him to do before they start working in the forge today. The receptionist looks back towards him. “Sure,” she says, holding out a hand to him. “It’s a deal. But I want to be allowed to sleep in a bed for my four hours.”

 

Hineni gets up, taking her hand and shaking it. “We accept. What’s your name?”

 

“Sockel,” she says.

 

Hineni blinks.

 

“Sock elf?”

 

The elf frowns at him. “Sockel,” she says.

 

“He did that to me too,” says Rhine, looking up from his sweeping.

 

Hineni turns to the boy who quickly keeps sweeping. “I’m Hineni,” he says, turning back to Sockel. “I’ll look forward to working with you then.”

 

“I already know your name,” she replies, tilting her head. “I sign all of your sales records, remember?”

 

“Oh. Right,” he says. Their talk had started strong, but the ending is really turning out to be awkward.

 

She shifts. “Um…”

 

Hineni looks down, pulling his hand from their handshake that she had been trying to finish for a few moments now. “Sorry,” says the man. “I’m bad with people,” he explains. “Rhine. Watch the house. I need to talk to someone at the adventurer’s guild.”

 

“You got it!” says Rhine, he sets his broom down and then, puffing his chest out and crossing his arms, he scoots a box his way from beneath a table, setting a boot down on it as he watches the carpenters at work like an overbearing taskmaster. “Nobody is going to slack while Rhine! THE RIVER-WIZARD! is in charge!”

 

They stare at the boy for a moment. Sockel leans in towards Hineni, whispering. “Why is he telling us where he does his business?”

 

“WIZARD!” shouts Rhine.

 

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“IT WASN’T ME!” screams Beni. “I SWEAR!”

 

The ‘morning’ had been fairly peaceful and kind and Hineni had expected as much to continue. However, when he got to the adventurer’s guild together with the receptionist, Sockel, he found a slight problem.

 

More aptly said, it found him.

 

Beni had come running and screaming out of his office, tearing through the back of the reception area as if he were running for more than just his life. He claws onto Hineni’s coat, shaking him. “IT WASN’T ME!” he yells.

 

“Beni!” calls the receptionist, trying to pull him off of Hineni. “Slow down.”

 

“There were… there were… I tried to count them and there were…” His breathing can’t seem to catch up with his words as he looks around the room with fearful eyes, as if expecting to see something in every shadow. And, given his terrified, pale expression and the sweat drenching his hands, Hineni isn’t sure that he doesn’t.

 

Being an adult sure does involve a lot of getting touched, doesn’t it? He likes the hugs and the other stuff. But this, he isn’t so fond of. There’s a smell in the air. He sniffs, leaning in. “Beni. You smell like frogs.”

 

“THEY MADE ME!”

 

“What do frogs smell like?” ask the receptionist, still trying to pry the men apart. It might be a legitimate question, but it isn’t the issue at hand right now.

 

Hineni grabs the man’s thin hands, pulling them off of himself with ease. Spinning him around, he pushes him back to the office, nodding to the receptionist. “I got this. Maybe you take care of that?” he suggests, nodding to the many peeping faces looking over the counter from the other side. Hineni pulls the man into the office and closes the door. “What’s wrong, Beni?” he asks.

 

“Don’t make me see it again!” he pleads, looking around, but not trying to escape. Perhaps he has realized that the thing he is fearful of can’t be run from. “I’m sorry!”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” sighs Hineni.

 

Beni stops, freezing as he stares at a little, tiny, empty spot between two bookshelves. There’s nothing there, at least not when Hineni looks. “I told them where you lived!” he admits. “It was me!” says Beni, clutching his head. “I confirmed it was you when you were kidnapped!”

 

Hineni tenses up, clenching a fist. “You did what?”

 

“I’m sorry!” apologizes Beni. “I had to do it. They came to my house,” he says. “Don’t make me look again! I don’t want to count them again!”

 

On one hand, Hineni doesn’t have the faintest clue as to what’s happening here. On the other, he can feel himself becoming angry in a way he hasn’t been in a long, long time. He isn’t even mad at Beni for selling him out to the odd cultists, the ‘frogs’, as Obscura had called them. He isn’t mad at him for hiding it, ever since he had made it back. But what he is mad about, in a way that Hineni hadn’t expected to ever feel, is that the man had led them to his door.

 

But not just to his door. Other people are there now too. Other people that he has found. Beni brought the frogs to their door.

 

Hineni looks down at the man who is on the floor, clutching his broken nose. He didn’t even notice that he punched him. It just kind of happened, really. The only evidence of the fact is the red smear on his leather glove, covering his still raised fist, as well as the window floating between them.

 

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