Chapter 39: A Penny Saved is a Trust Earned

I found Spinemess seated cross-legged in the spare room, back in that meditation pose they seemed fond of. I admired their commitment to self development. At least, I think that was what was happening. Introspection and quiet reflection is good for the soul. Especially when somebody shoves another soul inside your body. I hoped the two were getting along nicely. And I hoped Spinemess would have the foresight to let me know if this new roommate situation wasn’t working out.

Or maybe lots of meditation was just what magic users in this world did? Some of my Minions had what appeared to be job titles or professions listed next to their names in my Minion tab, which I presumed went beyond a simple resumé booster. Spinemess had the tagline of ‘Bone Mage,’ yet I hadn’t seen them actively cast any spells using bones, let alone conjure up a single card trick.

I would have to ask somebody about that later. I didn’t want to be overly demanding on Spinemess. I had placed them in a strange predicament and it felt rude to ask them for world lessons right now. They needed to be buttered up first.

“I saw the new wooden door you installed when I walked by,” Spinemess said. “But I didn’t realize how busy you had been last night.” The dryad motioned about. “What do you plan to do with the place?”

I had expanded the room and Gardencrafted some basic frameworks. There were a few stone pillars that supported the room’s ceiling, along with heavy wooden beams that made up the floor. Decorative ‘fake’ roots dangled down the dirt walls, mostly for the aesthetic, but also to provide cover for hidden entrances. Once again, I didn’t know much about the construction, carpentry, or masonry trades, but the System seemed to pick up on what I was intending and adjust accordingly to make it work within the bounds of reason. Most of the time, at least. There were still a lot of moments where I would struggle with getting an ethereal floorboard to line up properly before I Gardencrafted it into place. Or there would be times where an object decided it didn’t want to exist there, for whatever reason, so it would spring up into existence a few feet to the left. Which was really no different from trying to build a house in one of those Sims games, so I knew I shouldn’t be expecting much. The fact that the room hadn’t collapsed in on itself already was a testament to how much I had improved at handling the interface since the beginning.

Spinemess had placed the ‘pot of gold’ safely behind the wall of roots in a small hidden room I had dug out during the night. It was practically the size of a closet, with no security measures whatsoever. Anyone with a lightsource and a keen eye would notice that one section of the wall was darker than the rest. That would change eventually.

One thing at a time.

“This eventually will be my bedroom,” I stated. “After I get you all settled into your rooms, of course.”

As much as I wanted to line the walls with brick and mortar, or even plaster them up, I didn’t have enough Mana to do so yet. It also just felt wrong to not furnish the Minion quarters first.

“Don’t you mean your Core room? You realize you don’t need a bed, right?” Spinemess asked, “Dungeons don’t need to sleep.”

“And forever deny myself the pleasures of a soft mattress and silken sheets? Don’t be ridiculous. Mark my words: eventually I’ll fill this room up with enough plush comforts to roll around in it. There will be so much squishy luxury that you all won’t ever see me again! I’ll be too buried beneath all the pillows and cushions.”

Spinemess chuckled. “You’re an odd one, Ethel Merriweather. Not just compared to other Dungeon Cores, either. Jimbo-no mentioned you aren’t from this world? Is that true? What kind of world did you come from?”

“Why, thank you, sweetie. I try. As for your question… you’ll have to ask again later. That’s a story for another time and a lady never reveals all her secrets. We’ve got more important business to get to.” I jabbed a thumb back towards the hidden room. “Now, as for that gold… There’s more where that came from. I’ll be expanding those coffers. We’ll have a mighty fine rainy day fund for if it starts to rain cats and dogs.”

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Spinemess, unreadable through their mask, expressed their shock by tilting over to the side and supported themselves with two bent arms. They placed an open palm against the side of their face and asked in a quiet voice, “Do… Do cats and dogs normally rain from the sky in your world? Is that something you can do?”

“Heaven’s no! It’s a figure of speech.”

“Oh thank the Great River gods above!” Spineless let out a suppressed sigh of relief.

Their reaction concerned me. "Is that possible with magic in this world?" I spoke quickly, "Wait, nope. Don't tell me. I don't want to know. Forget I asked!"

Spinemess nodded. "That's for the best."

I feigned a cough. "I mean to say, I want to save a lot of pennies in our piggy bank."

"... I think I understand," Spinemess said slowly. " But why tell me all this? Why tell me where you’re placing your treasure hoard?”

“This is where you come in. As long as you remain, I’m entrusting you as chief treasurer for the Merriweather Dungeon.”

“Ethel…” They sighed. They sat up straight. “I can’t accept that.”

“Why not?”

“You shouldn’t trust me.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t. We hardly know each other. But we can change that. I'm going to trust you, regardless.”

“Why? That doesn’t make sense.”

“That’s the funny thing about trust, it never makes sense. If you don't give it, you can't get it.”

“That is… Hmm…” Spinemess paused and turned away. “Look, Ethel. I plan on leaving. As soon as you figure out how to release me. Or as soon as I Break your Dungeon. Whichever happens first. Please don’t put your trust in me. I’ll break it.”

“Well, good thing neither of us have broken yet.”

Spinemess folded their lower set of arms. “The only thing stopping me from destroying your Core is that Aura of yours. But I don’t have to. Somebody else could do it for me. And even then, I can still wait patiently. That’s not the only way to Break a Dungeon. With enough experience and time I could out-level your boundary limits. And then what? What’s stopping me from running away with all your gold?”

“Nothing,” I stated

"Nothing?"

“Nothing," I repeated. "I’d be disappointed, yes, but I won’t hold it against you. If that’s what you decide to do, so be it. I won't stop you.”

“You’re not exactly making a convincing argument for staying.”

“I don’t need to persuade you. I don’t think you'll try to hurt me, Spinemess. And I don't think you’ll try to steal from me either. That’s all there is to it."

"How? How can you be so sure?" Spinemess asked quietly. Once again, for a moment, I thought I saw Rinafen's face become visible, overlaying the wooden mask. The female tree spirit wore a concerned expression. Then she was gone.

"You’re not that kind of person.”

Spinemess folded both sets of arms. “You don’t know me.”

“You’re right.” I walked up to the skeletal forest creature. I placed a hand upon one of their arms, and looked into their eyes through the mask. I smiled. “I don’t know you. But I can see right through that mask. Call it a hunch, but I think you’ll do great. I want you to be my treasurer.”

Muffled vintage music began to play from the cellar sitting room. It echoed down the tunneled out hallway and through the wooden door. It was a barely audible, scratchy tune–reminiscent of so-called 1950’s ‘oldies’ that I listened to as a wee child–accompanied by unclear lyrics with a traditionally masculine voice.

It was the sort of music I only heard during Christmas time. Calling back to a time before the invention of the cassette.

It was nostalgic. It filled me with joy. It made me want to waltz along, as if in a dream.

Spinemess stood up sharply. “It can't be. Kraven?” Thin spines sprouted up and down their arms, like long cactus needles. The dryad turned to face the door in a wide stance. “Get back! We’re under attack.”

I smirked. Whether it was consciously done or not, Spinemess had instinctively moved to stand between the door and my spirit form.

“Stand down, Spiney. We’re not being attacked.”

Spinemess lowered their arms. But they did not sheathe their needles.

“Wanna come see? C’mon, I’ll show you. I know you’ll love it.”

The Construction of the Bone Spur Gramophone was complete.

I walked out, passing through the bedroom door like a ghost, leaving Spinemess alone to decide on their own.