Book 2: Chapter 21: Exploration

Book 2: Chapter 21: Exploration

The midmorning sun beamed down. I held a hand to my forehead, shielding my eyes. A sparse cloud drifted before the light, providing a modicum of relief. A soft breeze blew across the fields and the sugarcane leaves rustled and shifted around us, highlighting the silence that stretched between Barry, Helen, and I.

“So...” I said, drawing the word out. “New building, huh?”

Barry sighed.

“How did you know?”

As I went to answer, the cloud partially shielding the sun was swept away, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Is there somewhere we can talk inside?” I gestured at the ornate door. “I have a splitting headache and it’s bright as hell out here.”

“Are you sure you want to see...?”

“Yeah, but can we talk about it inside?”

“All right.” Barry turned to Helen. “Would you mind taking Fischer down? I’ll just finish concealing the outside, then come join you.”

“You two go ahead,” she replied. “I’ll finish up out here.”

“You’re sure?”Nnêw n0vel chapters are published at novelhall.com

She arched an eyebrow, giving him a dangerous look.

“Are you implying I can’t do it as well as you, dear?”

Wisely, Barry hopped off the ladder and put down his hammer.

“Nope! Thank you, my love.”

She nodded and rolled up her sleeves, and Barry led me to the door. It swung outward, and as we stepped inside, I gave Ruby a polite nod.

“Mornin’.”

She stood wide-eyed against a wall, her still-wet hair bound in a towel.

“Er—good, uh... morning?”

As Barry closed the door behind me, the light of day was blessedly banished. A soft orange glow suffused the chamber, climbing up from a stairwell that led down into the depths of the earth.

“There’s a place for us to sit downstairs,” Barry said, giving Ruby a wincing smile in passing.

I gave her a little wave.

“See ya later.”

She raised her hand haltingly.

“Yeah... later...”

As we walked down the stairs made of the same smooth brick, the soft orange glow came from sconces set in the wall. I stopped at one, cocking my head at the small flame inside. It burned behind a shield of glass, and there was no wick or coil from which the fire could be fueled. I leaned in closer and spotted a tiny hole in the stone brick beneath the flame.

Gas? I wondered. Or some sort of magical Xianxia land fuckery?

“Barry...?”

“No idea,” he answered. “They lit by themselves when I first came down and seem to turn off when someone hasn’t passed in a while.”

“And they turn back on when someone approaches again?”

“Just so.”

“Huh... neat.”

Step after step, we made our way further down. I expected it to get colder as we went, but the air remained pleasantly warm. We reached a flat section of floor, and a long, spacious hallway met us. It stretched out an impressive distance and had open doorways intermittently placed on either wall.

“So,” Barry said, looking down the hallway and avoiding my eyes. “How did you know...?”

“I felt the power coming in this direction, so I had a hunch it was you.”

“Oh...” He slowly turned to me. “It came from you...?”

“By ‘it’, do you mean that ungodly amount of essence or whatever your way? Yeah, mate—my bad. It wasn’t too much, I hope.”

He barked a laugh, and some of his weariness disappeared.

“It was entirely too much, but hey, look at the result.” He breathed deep, then let out a slow breath. “How did you do it?”

“Did I ever tell you how I made my house?”

“No.”

I opened my mouth to tell him, but then I looked into the first room.

A colossal round table made of what appeared to be a single piece of timber took up most of the space. Dozens of chairs surrounded it, and at the far end of the room, seven eyes went wide as they saw me: with her gaze locked on me, Sharon started rolling up a giant parchment she had been animatedly gesturing at; Private Pistachio nodded in greeting, his stoic features revealing nothing; Sergeant Snips slowly lowered from sight, her eye wide as it retreated from view; Rocky stared at me with a hint of accusation, daring me to say something, but then Snips’ claw shot up and dragged him from sight.

The sound of something hard smacking carapace rang out through the room, and Rocky let out a very feminine squeak.

We walked past the doorway, and I shook my head in amusement. I turned to Barry and started telling him all about my accidental house creation, sparing no detail. Barry’s forehead grew more and more lined as I spoke.

“Gold coins with a scythe and a face? Never heard of anything like it. Do you have any more?”

“Er... I did?” I gave him a rueful smile. “They were all consumed in building this place.”

“If you pictured a house and it built itself, what did you imagine last night?”

“Uh, that’s a little less straightforward. I couldn’t sleep, so I tried meditating on the coins. I realized I already had everything I needed, so I focused on protecting what I had.”

“Protecting what you had...” Barry repeated, tasting the words, his vision going distant. “And it sent the power my way...”

We strode onward, and I glanced into a room with a...

“Thank you, Fischer.”

“Nah, thank you, mate. I appreciate everything you’re doing here to keep everyone safe.” The last hints of my headache were finally receding, and I stretched high as I stood from where I knelt by the tree. “seeing as though my tour is over, I think I’ll go mess with Snips a little bit before I leave—she’s entirely too cute when she’s guilty.”

Barry let out a soft chuckle.

“I’m guessing they’ll have retreated by now, but you’re more than welcome to try.”

“Oh, one more thing, Barry.”

“Yeah?”

“You should start collecting pearls.”

“... Pearls?”

“Yeah, mate. Pearls.”

Barry stopped walking, staring his incredulity at me.

“Why?”

I stopped too.

“Because they function the same as those strange golden coins. Whatever we did last night consumed dozens of pearls I had stashed away.”

“... You had dozens of pearls?”

“Yeah, something like that, but that’s not important.” I waved my hands dismissively, delighting in the look on Barry’s face. “What’s important, mate, is that you get more.”

***

In a room made of smooth bricks, Trent, the first in line to the throne of Gormona—and not at all resembling a toe by his estimate—sniffed.

“I suppose it’s a little better.”

Leroy gave him a flat stare.

“A little better?”

“That’s right.”

Leroy glanced around at the room’s features; a shower and a toilet, both of which had running water; a gigantic bed that was comfier than any Leroy had ever felt before; space and equipment for exercise; and even a small garden with one of those golden tiles that the room two doors down was with.

“You know, Trent, I think I hate you.”

Trent crossed his arms like a petulant child.

“You dare say such things to the crown prince of your kingdom?”

Leroy sighed.

“Yeah, I definitely hate you.”

“Pah!” Trent threw up his hands. “How am I supposed to be happy about being thrown into another prison?”

Leroy looked at the door and the black metal bars blocking the escape, then turned back to the idiot.

“You were locked in the last room too, but there you had to pee in a bucket.”

“The bucket doubled as a drum, and without it, you’ve removed my only source of fun.”

“You’re saying you’d be happier here if I got your pee bucket back?”

“It’s a percussive instrument, cultivator scum—not a pee bucket.”

Before Leroy could hit him back with some snark, a beautiful form entered the door beyond the bars of Trent’s prison cell. Barbara.

“I’ve brought lunch.”

Leroy smiled at his wife.

“Finally!” Trent said, perking up. “There better be something sweet this time.” He snapped his fingers at Leroy. “Fetch it for me, cultivator.”

Leroy gave him a sickly sweet grin.

“Gladly, prince.”

Trent’s toe-like face became even more detestable as he frowned at Leroy, clearly not expecting the polite response.

Leroy reached the bars, and Barbara passed him a plate with a croissant and dollop of jam, and a cup filled almost to the brim. He strode to Trent, set them on the ground, then made his way back to the bars.

“Before you get any ideas...” Leroy’s arm muscles bulged, and he swung with all his power at the black metal. The room reverberated with the strike, yet the bars held firm.

Trent’s eyes went wide and he gulped; Leroy smirked.

“There’s no chance of escape, so you may as well get comfy down here.”

Trent’s fear was swiftly hidden behind a strained smile, and he sat down before his food.

“Wait...” he looked down at the cup. “Why in Demeter’s busty chest is this water green, cultivator?”

He sniffed the contents, then took a tentative sip with raised eyebrows. As the flavor hit his tongue, he let out an appreciative mmm.

“That isn’t water,” Leroy answered. “It’s sugarcane juice.”

“It’s... it’s delicious!” Trent said, then started sculling the sweet liquid.

Leroy shot a look at Barbara—both their faces crinkled in shared amusement.