Chapter Thirty Three: What’s ‘Tamatta You?

Over the following days, Zuglah appeared sullen and a little bit withdrawn. In truth, he really wasn’t, but only to those who knew him best. He was wrestling with a lot of new information, and some very confusing feelings. His friends were patient, filling in the holes in his education or simply being a sounding board for his ideas and speculations.

He really wanted to be pursuing his quest. With every passing day, he became more obsessed with the gronnibox and hopefully finding that Centaur. He sought out Healers and Necromancers, Witches and Shamans, anyone who could tell him how to kill a Lich. Nobody seemed to know, at least not how to do it around his level.

Slorric had outright scoffed at the suggestion that he had faced a full Lich, no matter how many legions she was able to summon. Wizard Gamstone was not much better, asking, “Did she reanimate you and send you here to steal corpses after she killed you or something? Why are you asking me about Liches?”

Zuglah had tried to clarify. “Well no, she never actually managed to kill any of us.” He did not mention how close she had come, though. If it hadn’t been for Basho Bal and his party of Orcs… So he said nothing. The tongue lashing he had received from Krane had been quite enough, thank you.

“Then it wasn’t a Lich.” With that, the massive Dwarf had spun around on his heel and strode off. Apparently, a Skagla brood, as a Lich’s small army was called in Dwarf, was not something they would expect to deal with until well after they had left the Glout. Gamstone was currently angry with him, because he believed that Zuglah should have had his full team selected by now, and be training around the clock for the school’s new dungeon. He could not understand why Zuglah was not more worried.

In truth he was worried, but not for the reasons that Gamstone might think. The only preparation that he needed to make was mental, and perhaps emotional. After all, this was the first time that he was going to get killed.

When he had told Pliesson that he didn’t think he should participate in the next run, the Driole chucked like an angry gopher. “There is only you, me and Randal left of our original group. Even if Randal shows up, which I sincerely doubt, you are going to be in a group of strangers. Is that what you really want?”

They had still been sitting and drinking with Meegar when the subject came up. Chayah was the first person to chide him, pointing out that Pliesson both deserved and wanted to come. Zuglah didn’t know how to explain. It was too embarrassing.

“It’s not going to be pleasant. And you’re wrong, Pliesson. I am almost positive that Randal is going to show up. Fenne will make sure of that. I think they are going to make another Bean.”

Warwick had a knack for putting things together. “You’re going to throw your tomato, aren’t you?” Okay, maybe he was confused. Or Zuglah was?

“I don’t have a tomato, Warwick. If I did, I would eat it. Is there some sort of a tomato spell?” He was a little bleary from the wine, but the others all laughed.

Denton, who was deep in his cups by then, said, “They mean that you plan on tossing your life away recklessly. But they don’t know you like I do. I know you wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh. I’d never heard that expression before.” Zuglah slurred. Denton nodded, satisfied. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to do the tomato.”

“Chuck your tomato. You are going to chuck your tomato.” Pliesson corrected. He took a deep breath. “And I’m going to throw mine too. If I have to find out, it may as well be now, right?” Zuglah remembered saying something very similar, once. Being nervous about the first time you died was pretty common, it seemed.

Everyone had pretty much agreed, and the discussion had turned to how to brave Pliesson was, for sticking with him. It didn’t matter that Zuglah was being brave, they generously pointed out, because he didn’t have much choice so it didn’t count. It wasn’t until he caught Chayah laughing at him behind his back before he had realized that they were teasing him. It was time to go home.

As the one week deadline came and went, speculation grew and so did tensions. Slorric informed him that Lieber Cant was requesting an extra couple of days to finalize all of the details. People relished the extra days to ponder the gruesome possibilities awaiting him. The one bright spot in all of this was he finally had the chance to bring Chayah on a proper date.

He made arrangements through Badger, his local contact with the Adventurer’s Guild, to have a traditional High Elvin repast prepared. Then he contacted Krane, who came to the tower for the first time, rather than have them attend him at the Inn. For such a stiff culture that seemed to thrive on formalities, Zuglah considered it a sign of encouragement. The Prince was warming up to him.

Zuglah had Krane deliver them to the Stanish Crypt, since that was the only thing they could find marked on a map. As they stepped through, Krane surprised Zuglah by pulling him aside and returning his bottle of Leap!

Zuglah must have looked surprised, because he said, “You never told me that my sister was coming along. I thought you were sneaking off by yourself.” He refused to take it back, and Zuglah had no choice but to follow him through the portal.

Zuglah was happy to be back in the sun-filled, ancient cemetery at the bottom of the hill. Chayah was pleased as well, asking questions about their quest and the Instance he had found here. They sat and stared at the Stanish Crypt while Zuglah told the story again. It made him miss Caldwell.

After that, they climbed the hill to the Big Ugly Tree, and Chayah gasped for real. There was an elaborate meal spread out before them on a small, sturdy Dwarven campaign table. The entire top of the hill was spread about with blankets, and the underside of the branches had been hung with colorful paper lanterns. There was an enchanted Gnomish music box, playing subdued harpsichord ballads and rousing martial anthems by turn. Below them spread a landscape covered in a rich blanket of flowers and plants, herbs and weeds. There were deer and squirrels, foxes and ravens all casually picking their way among the plants, eating what they wished.

Their own feast was just as magical. Thin pastries folded into the shapes of delicate animals concealed roasted sprouts, burnt knots of garlic and herb, or lightly powdered in a fine white sugar, indicating that inside were delicious jellies or sweet cream. There were spicy dumplings filled with pork and cubes of beef that expelled the most delicious brown gravy when bitten. There were barbecued mice and sparrows and voles, many other small animals that Zuglah didn’t bother to identify before popping into his mouth and crunching down whole. There were battered, deep-fried moths in a candied shell of hard caramel that melted in his mouth.

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There was a large meat pie for Zuglah, as well as a lightly pastried, delicately creamed vegetable pie for Chayah that she happily shared with him. It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

It seemed that the Elven cooks were capable of flavors that he still hadn’t experienced. That, or upon learning that they were cooking for a member of their own Royal Family, they had tried their absolute best. And that was saying a lot, for an entire race of chronic over-achievers.

There were jars of honey mead, sweetwines and rich, Dwarven ales. A pot of herbal tea was steeping beside the portable wood stove that warmed the entire hilltop.

All of the food was incredible. It was not until the pies were both gone that Zuglah discovered the half turkey and stuffed yams and candied figs in the basket. He remembered that he had asked them to include a bird of some kind, and when he discovered it, he nearly tore right in. But instead, he rummaged around the dirty dishes in the bottom of the basket until he found the small round vial that he had been seeking. He trotted back to the edge of the blankets, where Chayah stood looking down on a vista of wildflowers.

She glanced at his hands as he approached. “Oh. The potion that Krane gave you. What is it?”

He showed her Caldwell’s precise writing. Leap!

“The night we met, you said that you wanted to try it sometime. If I’ve got the timing right, it should finish up just after sunset. What do you think?”

Chayah agreed enthusiastically. Zuglah took her by the hand and led her around until they were no longer facing the field of flowers. She protested mildly at first, accusing him of fearing that she would trample his flowers. “There are lava tubes all around that field. But worse than that, there are poppins.

She said, “Oh! No wonder nobody else comes here.” She dragged him a little farther away from the flowers. She coyly opened her mouth when he held out the stopper, and his heart was racing as he administered two drops under her tongue. He felt a familiar lurch in his belly as he dosed himself. She grinned at him excitedly. “What now?”

He pointed towards a small copse of trees, perhaps a mile away. “We’ll start off slowly. Just bound towards those trees. Don’t worry if you fall, it doesn’t hurt no matter how high you jump. It’s part of the spell. Ready?”

She nodded, and he let go of her hand. To demonstrate, he locked his knees and began loping down the gentle hill. Within two strides, he was soaring across the landscape. From behind him came a high pitched scream that made him twist and lurch around, midair. Just as he managed to crane his neck around, a gleaming, copper-haired projectile soared, laughing and screaming, over his head. He bounced and cartwheeled for another few feet, and finally skidded to a halt on his back. Chayah was also laying on her back, having come to a crashing halt of her own, and laughed. They both climbed to their feet, and Chayah cheered as he casually leapt to stand next to her in one jump. “Nice move.”

“It’s so nice to get out of those treacherous shoes. It pains me that you don’t know how nimble I actually am.” She laughed throatily, on account of his recent performance. He was becoming quite fond of the sound. “But seriously, though. I think we need to be careful. We need to very, very carefully racetothathilloverthere!” He had one quick image of her face flashing towards outrage, as he bent his knees deeply and launched himself away.

He was lazily arching through the warm afternoon air, when the same laughing, copper-red missile slammed into him. His own laughter mixed with hers as they tumbled through the air and bounced across the landscape. Zuglah did his best, and managed to end up on the bottom. He might have been raised in dense woods, but that was no reason not to be a gentleman. The race ended abruptly when she kissed him, and he forgot all about it. But he definitely felt like a winner.

They spent the rest of the afternoon just jumping hither and yon, and Zuglah enjoyed himself even more than he had the first time he tried the potion. They even made a game out of sunset, jumping higher and higher as they said goodbye to the sun just one more time, then one more. Finally, it was gone for good. “We should have just enough time to get home. I think it’s around that direction, don’t you?”

They struck out in leaps and bounds, holding hands and making a game out of who could devise the most outrageous landing. After a while, they settled on a splayed-leg, bottom first landing where they skidded across the landscape in a fashion that they both found hilarious.

Chayah was the first to spot the Big Ugly Tree, but as soon as she pointed it out to Zuglah he also saw it easily at the top of his next jump. “Come on! We really don’t have much time left.” He grabbed her by the hand, and they launched themselves into the air.

They were well practiced at jumping in unison by then, and so they were streaking through the cold, crisp moonlit sky, hundreds of meters in the air, when he felt the reverse lurch deep within his stomach. It seemed like the potion had worn out.

He looked over at Chayah, who appeared not to have noticed. Still, she did not resist as he pulled her into his arms. As hard as it was to wrest his eyes away from hers, he somehow did it. He looked at the colorful lanterns hanging from the Big Ugly Tree, and he Blinked.

It was a nice way to land; Chayah weighed almost nothing in his arms, but even in the dark she was luminous. The way she nestled her chin into his neck made him spin. And the way her brother Krane scowled at them made his blood run cold.

“How is your gleaning coming along? Do you need me to fetch a horse and cart for all of your bountiful harvest?” He looked around pointedly.

Zuglah set Chayah down on her feet. “Unfortunately it turns out that I’m not a very good teacher. So bad that she ran away, in fact. I was just bringing her back. Heroically, I might add.” He straightened his doublet in a dignified manner and managed a straight face.

“Yes, everything he just said is super true. Zuglah did manage to pick a few herbs, but I ate them. You know how I feel about vegetables.”

They stared blandly until Kramer finally shook his head with a rueful laugh. “I’m glad you are enjoying yourselves. But it is past time to go. I assume you’re both ready?”

Zuglah quickly agreed that he was. Chayah, on the other hand, was not quite as agreeable. “Zuglah has a big run coming up, and he still needs more Jump potion. You’ll be quick, won’t you Zuglah?”

“Yes. For the run, I only need two jars for safety. So about ten poppins. Chayah, is there any of that wine left? Maybe your brother wants a cup.” She nodded, and went to the basket for a goblet. Zuglah fetched his sling and donned it. He scurried down the hill, stopping when he reached the edge of the field of flowers. Within a few seconds, he caught the tiny blue gleam on the top of the poppins’ bulb. The plant had three, so he was well underway. He kept low to the ground, and very quickly located the rest.

Gleaning by moonlight, and even in pitch blackness, had long been a favorite pastime of his. Even if he had direct competition for an ingredient, which was common in the form of both man and beast, he had a formidable advantage by being able to forage in total darkness. Very few creatures could. He had spent many moonlit evenings in this very field.

At the top of the hill, he found the siblings sitting casually by the portable iron stove, enjoying the wine and the evening’s fairy moths, who had come to dance together beneath the lanterns. Chayah smiled, and shared her goblet with Zuglah when he sat down.

“Chayah was just telling me about your intentions regarding the upcoming dungeon. That is a hard path to walk, Zuglah Glun. I have seen men of great resolve lose their nerve when faced with the moment. I wish you luck.” He raised his goblet in salute, and drank. Zuglah was hardly reassured.