Book 2: Chapter 51: An Unexpected Guest

Book 2: Chapter 51: An Unexpected Guest

The following month was perhaps the most restful period since my arrival in Tropica, despite the growth of Barry’s congregation and their escalating shenanigans.

We’d run out of metal to make more oyster cages after only a day, and it took us a mere few hours the following morning to secure the seventeen cages in the shallows of the bay. Maria had unlocked the blacksmithing skill, and as with woodworking, she found it a relaxing hobby. We added it to the roster of activities, finding time to work on projects when we weren’t too busy swimming, eating, fishing, relaxing in the sun, or petting our veritable army of cute animal pals.

I had given all the lemons to Sue. The pastries that she and Stergill had made as a result were to die for, and it inspired Maria and I to spend each evening in the kitchen trying to make our own sweets.

Four Fieldays later, we waited on the patch of dirt west of Tropica for Marcus’s arrival—he never came.

That evening, I lowered myself into the underground spa hidden within the church. A blissful groan escaped my throat.

“Ahhh—I think I could live down here...”

“Tell me about it,” Maria replied with a blissful smile on her face.

She leaned back against a rock in the center of the pool. Her skin was flushed with the spa’s heat, adding a hint of pink to the sun-kissed skin visible beneath her frilly swimmers. A washcloth covered her eyes, but above it, I noticed a hint of tension creasing her forehead.

“Something on your mind?” I asked.

Her lips pressed into a firm line, then she sighed, removing the washcloth.

“Just worrying about Marcus—same as everyone else.”

“It’s really that big a deal? I would have thought he’d be late now and then.”

“Not Marcus—never Marcus. The man has an entire wagon filled with replacement parts should an axle snap, along with a handful of spare horses. There’s a reason he’s so beloved despite his occasionally over-the-top prices.”

A knot of worry formed in my stomach, but I took a deep breath, focusing instead on the spa’s heat as I let the anxiety go.

“I’m sure he’s just late.”

Though I was excited about the material to make more cages...

“You’re probably right,” she said, but her brows remained furrowed. “It has just never happened before, so I can’t help but worry about everyone in the caravan.”

A realization hit me, and I slapped the water with one hand as I bolted upright.

“Oh... no...”

“What?” she asked, her back stiffening.

“I just remembered that Marcus is the deliverer of coffee beans!” I made my eyes go wide. “This is a disaster...”

Maria shook her head at me.

“Oh, now you’re worried.”

“This is no longer a joking matter, Maria.” I grinned and shot her a wink. “Now the great Fischer’s comfort is at stake—that should be enough to terrify anyone.”

She snorted.

“The truly terrifying thing is you speaking about yourself in third person.” She shivered. “Talk about bone-chilling.”

“Hmm. Quite a heretical opinion you’ve got there, young lady. Don’t let any of the followers of Fischer hear you spit such venom.”

Her entire body cringed, and I cackled at the disgusted look on her face.

“Perfect...” I said, peering up at Snips. “Thanks for the assist.”

She hissed a few happy bubbles, closing her eye and leaning forward.

“Of course I can reward you with a good scratch—that’s only fair!”

I set the tray down and rubbed Snips’s sturdy carapace. She leaned into it, hissing softly as I got the parts of her head that she couldn’t reach. Corporal Claws, ever the jealous type, dashed forward and presented her neck. I gave her a good scritching too, delighting in the contrast of shell and fur. The moment I stopped scratching them, their eyes moved to the tray sitting on the sand—they’d tasted every one of my trial puddings, and though they weren’t usually ones for sweets, this dish proved to be the exception.

“All right, everyone,” I said, standing up with the tray. “Who’s ready to try some pudding?”

The sea of friendly faces lit up, and a few cheers even broke out—the loudest of which was Duncan, who was swiftly clapped on the back of the head by Fergus.

“Woo!” Duncan said again, much more reserved this time.

“What is it?” Barry asked, craning his neck to get a good look.

“This, my friend, is a self-saucing pudding.”

“How in Hecate’s magical teat—” Leroy cut off, shooting a glance at Barbara. She raised an eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat. “How in Hecate’s magical torch did you create a pudding that sauces itself?”

“Better,” Barbara said, lowering the elbow.

I laughed.

“It’s not as magical as it sounds—the sauce is created when it cooks.” I moved the tray, making the firm pudding jiggle a little. “As it sets, a fluffy lemon sponge rises to the top. Beneath it... well, I suppose it’s easier if I just show you.”

I walked over to the table, set the tray down, and picked up a metal spoon Maria and I had made at the smithy. I plunged it into the pudding, making sure I scooped plenty of the lemon sauce from underneath. When I put the spoonful into a bowl, steam rose from the sauce as it spread out beneath the fluffy sponge. As I dished out the rest, my mouth watered. The smell of flour, sugar, and lemon was being wafted up into my nostrils by the rising steam, and my body seemed to demand I take a bite. When there was a bowl for everyone, Maria helped me pass them out, and we picked up the last two bowls for ourselves.

I sat in my chair, and just as I was about to take a spoonful, an alarmed squeak caught my attention. Cinnamon was up on all fours, her back arched as she stared down at the egg. I leaned forward, peering at the white shell—just in time to see it shake.

“The egg!” I yelled, leaving my bowl behind and dashing for the bed I’d made her. When I got there, I glanced back. “You guys can eat up—don’t wait for me.”

“There’s no way I’d miss this,” Maria replied, leaving her own bowl behind.

It seemed everyone else agreed; they stood and formed a loose circle around Cinnamon’s throne of pillows. No one made a noise, but then a loud mmm came out. Duncan had a spoon hanging from his mouth and a bowl in his hands. The sound of delight continued coming from his throat.

“Really?” Fergus demanded, shooting a scornful look at his apprentice.

“What?” Duncan challenged around a mouthful of pudding. He chewed and swallowed. “Like you can’t stand and eat at the same time.”

“He’s got a point...” Barry said, glancing back at his bowl.

A mass exodus occurred as everyone—except for Maria and I—retrieved their dessert. Even my animal pals got their bowls—minus Pistachio, who merely watched with keen eyes. There was a cracking sound, and I leaned down, peering closer at the egg. There was nothing there.

I cocked my head to the side. “What the...”

Someone across from me dropped a bowl, and I glanced up. Barry still held his spoon in one hand, but the other had gone slack. His eyes stared past my shoulder. I whirled.

Behind me, ten meters or so across the sand, a crack was tearing through space itself. It was as long as Cinnamon’s body, but then another crack shot out, loud enough to rumble the ground beneath me. The rent in space tore wide, and tendrils of inky black snaked out like shattered earth. A power stronger than I’d felt before came from the tear.

“Get back,” I said, stepping forward and pushing Maria behind me. “Something is coming...”

No one moved, all eyes fixated on the broken air. A paw as big as my head and darker than night stepped through it, padding softly onto the sand.