29. Toad Hunting (Patreon)

They walked through the forest. Sunlight dappled the path before them, and a gentle wind blew. Ike consulted Orin’s book again and frowned. The man had a knack for giving the worst directions, and it was no less true of the route to the Giant Toad than it was of the route to Silver. Return to the boot-suckin’ swamp. Easy. He knew where that was: on the way to Silver. Hook a left. How many degrees? Left, relative to what? You’ll see a downed tree that goes uppy-downy. Hook a right. That one meant nothing at all. Hundred or so paces, and you’ll come up on a holler. It was in a valley, apparently.

A valley near a swamp. Won’t that just be a pond? Ike wondered. A second later, he shrugged. It is a Giant Toad, I suppose.

Behind him, Rossamund yanked her beautiful, delicate boots out of the sucking swamp mud. Mud splattered over her milky white legs from the backsplash. She shuddered, disgust clear on her face. “What is this filth?”

Her handmaidens leaped to her side, quickly wiping her legs clean with towels that seemed to come from nowhere.

Ike looked over his shoulder. “It’s called mud, young miss.”

“I know what mud is—” Rossamund clenched her teeth. She stood there, her fists clenching. “You’re sabotaging me! Forcing me to march through this filth…”

“Monsters live in filth. If we mean to hunt monsters, we have to go where the monsters live,” Ike explained.

She flared her nostrils. “You dare talk down to me?”

Ike gave her an innocent look. “You hired me as a hunting guide, young miss. If I don’t explain these things, I’m not doing my job.”

With some effort, she repressed her anger. “You can cease explaining these obvious things.”

Ike nodded. He consulted the page again. Lifting his head, he scanned the horizon for ‘a downed tree that goes uppy-downy.’ Still, doubt gripped his heart. Will that tree even still be here? How long ago did he hunt this Giant Toad? It is a low-level monster, and he’s Rank 3. Cara mentioned that she and Orin have extended lifespans thanks to their Rank. If he hunted the monster a hundred or more years ago, that trunk could be nothing but dust at this point.

“What are we waiting for?” Rossamund demanded.

Ike put the book away and walked on. I’ll keep an eye open for the tree, but I won’t count on it. I’ll walk at an angle and look for the valley instead.

“What are we even hunting?” Rossamund asked, ducking under a low-swinging cedar branch. A tangle of thorny vines gripped at her ankles, but a gesture from her, and they melted away.

Ike eyed the vines. Must be convenient.

Insulted, Rossamund glared at him. “Have you never seen a lady’s ankles before?”

“A Giant Toad,” Ike said, ignoring her.

“What?”

“We’re hunting a Giant Toad.”

Rossamund glared at him. “You deliberately chose a filthy monster, didn’t you?”

Ike sighed. He shook his head at her. “You didn’t tell me what to hunt. I was personally preparing to hunt the Giant Toad, so I took you along on my hunt. If you want to hunt something else, then tell me. Otherwise, we’ll hunt the Giant Toad.”

She ground her teeth and stomped. “I demand we fight something more elegant!”

Ike turned. He leaned against a nearby tree, resting his feet for a moment. “Something more elegant? How about a Fulgur-Loup?”

“A Lightning Wolf? Indeed. An elegant monster like that suits my standing,” Rossamund said, brushing what was meant to be imaginary dust off her skirt. Her hand encountered a very real glob of mud, and she froze.

Seeing her disgust, her handmaidens rushed forward and quickly cleaned the skirt.

Relieved, Rossamund continued to brush fake dust off her skirt. She nodded at Ike. “Let us proceed to the Fulgur-Loup, commoner.”

“My name is Ike,” Ike informed her.

Rossamund gave him a look as if she’d rather eat shit than say that name. “A common name, for a common man.”

Ike looked at her. Her words didn’t even smart. If anything, they made him want to chuckle. Such a weak insult. Is that the best she has? I almost feel bad for her that her insults are so weak. He lowered his head, hiding a small smile.

Ahead, the earth sunk, giving way to a dip in the land. Ike turned toward it.

“Good. Heading toward the more elegant monster,” Rossamund said.

He glanced back, but didn’t say anything to her. He led the way into the depression. Rossamund picked her way down behind him, her pink boots sliding in the mud. Her two attendants offered her a hand on either side.

At the bottom of the valley, a sludgy, thick pond spread before them. Reeds grew thick at the edges of the water, and lily pads and algae spread across its top. Long fronds of water grass trailed against the surface.

Rossamund frowned. She peered across the pond, lifting her hand to see the far side. “Is this a watering hole for the Fulgur-Loup?”

“No. It’s the place where Giant Toads live,” Ike replied, deadpan.

Rossamund startled. “I thought we agreed to hunt the Fulgur-Loup, not that revolting Giant Toad.”

Ike blinked. He tilted his head. “We need to hunt the Giant Toads so that we can hunt the Fulgur-Loup. I thought you already knew?”

“Why would I already know that?” she snapped.

Ike lowered his head apologetically, but a mocking glint shone in his eyes. “You told me not to bother with the small details of the hunt. I thought that meant you understood something as basic as needing the Giant Toad to hunt the Fulgur-Loup.”

Rossamund’s eyes narrowed. Frustration and anger played across her face, and she tossed her head. “Of course I know something like that. Don’t be foolish.”

Ike smiled. “Wonderful. Then I won’t bother explaining something that simple to you.”

Rossamund’s upper lip twitched. She half-opened her mouth, then shut it. Her eyes glared murder at Ike.

Heh. Can’t openly admit you don’t understand why I’m doing this now, can you? You’ve backed yourself into a corner. You have no option but to go along with my plan and hunt the Giant Toad! Turning away, Ike grinned to himself.

He searched across the lake again. Giant Toads are active all day, but they’re most active at dawn and dusk. It’s currently a little after noon. We’re unlikely to see one until night. He turned to Rossamund. “I’m going to scout the toad’s pond. You’re free to do as you see fit until dusk.”

“We’re going to wait around here until dusk? Why not hunt it now?” Rossamund asked, taken aback.

“They’re most active at dusk and dawn. Apologies if that’s too small a detail for you,” Ike said.

“Most active,” Rossamund countered. She looked at her handmaidens. “Bring it forth.”

Ike stood back, curious. What kind of high-class gear does an upper-city immortal bring to a monster hunt? Does she have something to locate the monster while it’s sleeping?

Of her two attendants, one had short hair and a bow wrapped from the back of her hair to the top of her head, and the other had long hair bound into a dense, short braid.

The short-haired one reached to a hip pouch. “The one for amphibians?”

“Naturally,” Rossamund said.

The handmaid drew out a large ball, which she handed carefully to Rossamund. “Take care, mistress. This monster bait is personally concocted by the lord’s alchemist. It’s incredibly potent. You only want to—”

Rossamund hauled back and tossed the entire ball into the pond. “We want to summon the toad, not sit around and twiddle our thumbs.”

The short-haired attendant stared. She looked at her empty hands, then at the pond, where the ball quickly dissolved into the water. In despair, she turned to the long-haired attendant.

Holding a small portion of a bait ball that she’d just broken off, the long-haired attendant sighed. She put the bait back in her pouch and shook her head at the short-haired attendant.

Ike eyed the attendants’ pouches. The bait balls are bigger than those pouches. I wonder if they’re enchanted somehow? I could use something like that.

“Since we dropped bait, everyone, get ready,” Ike said, stepping forward. He drew his sword and dropped his pack on the ground.

River-Splitting Sword was a one-sword style, so he only wore one sword now. The other one sat in his pack. He’d considered selling the extra sword, but given how high quality it was, he knew he couldn’t purchase a sword that compared if the first broke. So instead, he brought it along.

He looked at the group. “What are everyone’s strengths?”

“I’ll restrain and kill the beast myself. There’s no need for you to know,” Rossamund said haughtily.

The short-haired attendant gave Ike an apologetic bow. “We’ll support the young mistress. You’ve guided us here, and that’s sufficient.”

So that’s how we’re going to play it. Ike nodded. He stepped back, letting the three of them take the lead. “Young miss, please take care not to damage the Giant Toad’s hide—”

“Don’t tell me how to fight. You don’t know how a true mage fights,” Rossamund interrupted him, her eyes cold.

“I understand, but—”

She flipped her hand, and a pink crystal dagger appeared in her palm. “Say another word, and I take your head. I know more about hunting than you. Don’t think to instruct me.”

Ike put his hands up and backed away. Fine. If you insist. Maybe she does already know. After all, she knows that we’re using the Giant Toad to hunt the Fulgur-Loup. It’s not that hard to figure out what we need.

With a harrumph, Rossamund turned back to the pond, putting the dagger away with a gesture.

The reeds shifted in the depths of the pond. A Giant Toad hopped out. Brown, warty skin covered its back, and bulging gold eyes gazed at them. It opened its mouth and swallowed up a mouthful of the pond water, then hopped in, vanishing into the murky depths.

“Stand back. Watch a real mage fight,” Rossamund declared. She charged into battle, twisting a bracelet as she approached the pond. Roses appeared under her feet, lofting her over the surface of the pond. She closed in on the place the Giant Toad had vanished.

Ike frowned. It won’t come back up where it went under. Why did she do that?

Her attendants drew brooms from their hip pouches and stood atop them, riding after her. They hung back a bit, spreading out to the left and the right.

The Giant Toad erupted from the pond in a vast wave. Muddy water sprayed all around as it opened its enormous maw and swallowed up the bait-tainted water.

Rossamund whirled. She gestured, and the water grass lunged up out of the water to tangle the Giant Toad’s limbs. The Giant Toad thrashed, tearing up the water grass at its roots. Rossamund made a pulling gesture. Vines and brambles from the dry forest leapt to her call. They strained, but couldn’t reach the center of the lake where the toad was.

Ike frowned. Why did she throw the bait that far, if she can’t attack that deep into the lake?

The long-haired attendant rushed in. She drew a long-handled paddle from her pouch and struck the Giant Toad from behind, sending it rolling through the water to the shallow part.

The reeds and vines gripped the Giant Toad at last. Rossamund grinned. She clenched her fist. The barbs on the spiky vines grew longer, and the vines themselves tensed around the Giant Toad. It struggled more desperately, then burst, shredded to a thousand pieces.

With a laugh, Rossamund turned to Ike. “Simple. Far too easy! Can we go hunt a real monster now?”

Ike sighed. “We need the Giant Toad’s hide, young miss. You shredded it to bits. We’ll have to hunt another one.”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

“You told me not to bother you with details,” Ike said, shaking his head in regret. I should’ve made sure she heard it, even if she kept trying to shut me up! The book said they’re solitary hunters. We’ll have to find another pond, and—

From out of the reeds, a pair of gold eyes peered at the pond.

Ike jolted. He stepped forward. “Let me take this one, young miss!” I don’t trust her to not ruin the hide again.

“You dare?” Rossamund ran toward the toad.

Another pair of eyes appeared in the reeds, and another, and another, and another. From the woods to the left, low, brown, warty forms crawled forth. A toad hopped out of the woods to the right. Behind Ike, the squish of soft amphibian flesh sounded, and he turned to find a toad creeping up behind him, its mouth already half-open to lash out with its tongue.

Across the pond, one of the toads in the reeds leaped at Rossamund. She startled, surprised. Its enormous, toothless maw gaped toward her.

“Young miss!” the short-haired attendant shouted.

Without a word, the long-haired attendant chased after Rossamund, already raising her paddle to strike the toad.

Ike darted toward the toad behind him, lifting his sword. Not sure whether to laugh or cry, he let out a strained chuckle. I guess we don’t have to worry about finding another, but there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing!