Journey Through the Underdark - Eric EarthScorn Book 1 - Chapter 29 (Patreon)

Eric had to resist the urge to moan as he crunched through the piece of carrot. This was the best bowl of soup he had ever tasted. The carrots were undercooked, the onion squishy and overdone, the cabbage so boiled that it was a slime at the bottom of his dish. Still, it was better than suffering under the constant meat diet. At first, the meat had been needed. His options had been to starve or eat rat or worm. With starvation as the only other option, hunger had seasoned his meal until it was a delight. But after nearly a month of nothing but meat, vegetables being something Sasha would never hunt, the stew was delightful.

Fishing out another bit of meat, Eric passed it to his partner, who was sitting on the table and displaying her fangs as she shredded her meat. She was deliberately showing off to the few soldiers left in the mess hall. Since she couldn’t threaten or frighten the black-clad UWC Inspector, she had decided to regain her confidence by scaring the soldiers. Eric couldn’t care less. He was developing a love affair with his stew and the wrinkly sour apples that he had found. Each bite of the green lip-puckering fruits was a delight that he was trying to imprint on his mind.

Gulping down a stray sliver of turnip from his stew, Eric turned to the hulking black-clad woman who was looming behind him. One question had been bugging him, and he finally asked it, “Why are we waiting around here?”

“I’m waiting to see if someone tries to kill you,” answered the hidden woman in a distracted voice.

Eric choked on the spoonful he had been eating and turned a wide-eyed look to the woman. There was an awkward silence that Eric finally broke.

“What?”

The unmoving glass structure then shifted until the head faced Eric again and answered, “Hmm? Oh, yes. For some reason, people seem to think that killing a UWC informant will end an investigation. Wishful thinking really, but then, if you play with world-ending forces, you aren’t exactly thinking straight to begin with.”

At that, the woman turned and appeared to stare into the distance as if the conversation was over.

“No! I mean, why are we sitting here when someone wants to kill me? Shouldn’t we do something? Hide? Get out of here?” Eric said, his voice starting to rise in concern.

“Not really. I’ll likely be able to keep you alive for now, and assassination attempts are usually a good way to get more information. It’s later when the real assassins come for you that it will be an issue,” said the woman in a bored tone as she continued to watch the other side of the room.

The stew that had tasted so nice before was now swirling in Eric’s stomach. The woman’s insistence that they come to the mess hall and get him fed and then outfitted, her demand that he stay near her and sit at this specific table near the wall, all taking on a new light. His frightened emanations had Sasha turning to stare at him, and send feelings of confidence and love. Still, she soon returned to eating her meat and teasing the soldiers with her display. Feeling slightly better, Eric pulled another stray bit of meat from his bowl and passed it to his partner along with his appreciation.

“I doubt anything will happen anyway. I’m just doing a favor for Judy and trying to scare up some extra information. Maybe make this a bit less boring,” she said before the black-glass body hunched its shoulders and then glanced at the boy with what he could only guess was a look of sheepish apology. It was hard to tell, given the body obscuring form that hid her.

“Uh, my name is Mary,” the woman said, her voice coming out almost in a cough before she continued, “Once you are done, we’ll buy some clothing and equipment for you. Probably a cart. Then we will head out. Alright?” she asked, her tone saying she was sorry about using him as bait.

Slowly nodding, the boy agreed. He knew that the moment he mentioned the UWC and decided to talk about the controlled zombies in the depth that things would begin moving without his control. Still, he didn’t like it, and the way things had gone so far was a bit bloodier and forceful than he had expected. But he was being protected and cared for so far. That meant a lot compared to the way the commander had treated him.

Once Eric was finished, the pair began to visit the shopkeepers and requisition equipment. Sasha followed, slipping in and out of shadows as the other two moved through the market area. Beyond the occasional vision sent to Eric from Sasha, it was just him and the black-clad woman shopping. Mary was a black statue that followed behind Eric that quickly signed for the equipment Eric selected. For his part, Eric just grabbed the gear that he thought would be useful. A couple of changes of tunic and pants, a new backpack, two sharp steel knives, a wooden spoon, bowl, and cup, a drawstring cord for a belt, and new leather boots. The boots were standard issue for the military and while stiff, felt like warm comfort on his feet.

The only equipment that Mary commented on was the knives. When the pair entered the general store, she ignored everything except when Eric asked for a blade. The poor clerk was forced to bring back knife after knife from the backroom by order of the hulking black-clad customer. The UWC agent drilled Eric on his knife needs as the clerk carried the supplies from the back room. Did he want to carve wood? Use it for defense? As a harvesting tool? How about cooking? The extent of the features and needs honestly surprised Eric, but the pair finally settled on two knives. One as a general-purpose tool that, while not perfect in any use, could easily be used to fulfill most needs. The second knife was chosen explicitly for carving and had a shorter blade and a thicker wooden handle.

Eric had never tried carving wood before, but he thought it might be useful when trying to create magical artifacts. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed that combined with stone shaping, it could be helpful.

Mary’s only other offered suggestions while they shopped, were the need for an oiled cloth tent and a length of cloth ribbon. Eric was confused by the second item but did not comment on it. When they stopped back at the garrison, she tried to coax Sasha out of the darkness with the ribbon as use for a collar, but she wanted nothing to do with that suggestion.

“You need to have her wear something. If you don’t designate her as your Familiar in some way, she could be killed out of hand,” the black-clad woman said with a huff as she shoved the ribbon into Eric’s chest. The blocky stone fist moved surprisingly gently and carefully for all that she could use it with immense speed and force.

“What?” Eric asked, his voice rising even louder at this news than it had with the threat of assassins.

Eric had heard stories of wizards who had familiars, creatures of incredible powers who could destroy entire armies on their own. Magical beasts that wizards could ride into battle. Stories of familiars focused on giant eagles, wolves as large as carts, even a wizard's home build on the back of a stone turtle. These were the stories of wizards and their Familiars.

“What, what?” asked the woman, her voice just as confused as Eric’s.

“What do you mean that Sasha is my Familiar?” Eric asked as the creature in question silently padded out of the shadows and stood behind her human to watch the confrontation.

The black-clad woman rubbed the stone head in evident confusion before answering, “What do you mean ‘what do I mean’? She’s your Familiar. You two are bonded. You aren’t going to fool anyone who knows how a Familiar bond works.”

Sasha ignored the discussion; to her, he was her Kitten, and nothing else needed to be said about it. In her mind, this was more human chattering and of no consideration. Her only concern was that she did not want that ribbon around her neck.

From the shake of the armored woman’s head, she appeared to think Eric was trying to fool her, but that she wasn’t going to make a big deal over it. This was yet another thing for Eric to think about and possibly discuss with Inspector Terms when they next met.

Gathering the last of their equipment, the three stopped at the animal stall, where Mary caused a commotion when she tried to buy the merchant’s only wagon. This was the same boxy wooden wagon that had been pulled by the two bull/goat animals. The merchant at first refused to sell, and the rotund man was even bravely yelling directly into the face of the black-clad woman. The moment she agreed to pay market value for the wagon, he calmed down. He charged her an exorbitant price for the cart. The price sounded insane even to Eric’s uneducated ear, but she seemed fine with it. She admitted as they packed up that it didn’t matter since the UWC would pass the cost onto his kingdom, and they would probably take umbrage at any price then anyway.

“I bet he will charge you even more for the animals to pull it,” Eric remarked while he and Sasha were climbing into the wagon and stowing their equipment. Well, Eric was situating his gear, Sasha was curling up to sleep.

“To bad for him then,” said Mary as she grabbed the front of the wagon with her black-clad stone arms and began to accelerate up the ramp and out of the fortress.