Bright and early the following day, Gideon headed down the mountain with Grimsby and Sir Clonk. Though Clonk had balked at first about leaving the castle during his vacation, he relented when Grimsby promised to oil him again once they returned. Gideon had been skeptical about having the manpower to get all the supplies back up the mountain and was grateful for Clonk’s presence. The suit of armor was currently rolling their empty cart behind him one-handed as if it were weightless while whistling a ballad Gideon didn't recognize.
Another reason to be grateful for Clonk’s presence was the matter of the spiders, which scared the shit out of Gideon. Most of his dreams during the night had been nightmares. Of those nightmares, about half were spider-related, while the other half involved being stuck at EnviroCharm and getting chewed out by Mr. Dreadmoor.
So it was nice to be on the road, Gideon thought. It gave him something to occupy his mind. The sky was orange-red as the sun crept above the horizon, and the path, though uneven, was broad and spider-free. What more could he ask for?
“So, when was the last time you went to the village?” Gideon asked.
“About twenty years ago,” Grimsby replied. “It did not go well.”
He wore an oversized sun hat, a pair of mirrored glasses, a long overcoat, a fake beard, baggy trousers, boots, and black leather gloves. He looked ridiculous. Before leaving the castle, Gideon had told his companions to let him do the talking and to hang back once they arrived in the village.
The status of the undead was a tricky topic in Acretan. Though Acretan was not as religious as the Principality of Celestra to the north, as the church had lost much of its power here after the overthrow of the old King, undead were still viewed with distrust and suspicion as a general rule. It would be even worse out here in a village on the outskirts of the country. Gideon doubted he would be able to explain that Grimsby and Clonk were harmless—that he owed his life to them.
“What happened?” Gideon asked.
“Oh, I tripped and fell while bartering for fertilizer, and my hat flew off. Some kids saw me and started screaming. The villagers ran inside their homes, then came out with pitchforks.”
“Grimsby fails to mention that by bartering, he means he was robbing them in the middle of the night,” Clonk added.
Gideon sighed. Why am I not surprised? “Let’s not steal from anyone this time, okay? These people are our neighbors. If we can build a good relationship with them, it will be a lot easier in the long run.”
“It wasn’t that I wanted to,” Grimsby muttered. “I’m not a cur. I was only worried they’d find me out if I talked to them long enough to make a legitimate purchase. I left three gold pieces behind in exchange. A more than fair price. And I dropped my coin purse during my escape, so really, they were the ones who were thieves.”
Gideon almost felt bad for the skeleton when he put it like that. It must not have been easy to look as terrifying as he did. “Hopefully, they’ve forgotten all about it by now. It’s been twenty years, after all. And this time, you have me,” Gideon said with a grin. “I met a couple of the villagers when I was passing through. They seemed pleasant enough. They warned me not to climb the mountain.”
“That was sound advice,” Sir Clonk said without a hint of emotion. “You should have listened to them.”
----------------------------------------
It only took a couple of hours for the three of them to reach the village of Emberly, as it was faster to go downhill than to ascend. Emberly was a small collection of buildings and outlying farmsteads in the shadow of the Frostpeak Mountains. It was one of the smallest settlements Gideon had ever seen and lay at the end of the rail line he had taken from Prospera. The train only ran once a week. When Gideon had taken it to get here, there were only a handful of passengers.
The glassworks, their first destination, was a small wood and brick building to one side of the village, with a chimney that released a thin trail of wispy smoke into the sky. Though Gideon had seen the sign in front of the glassworks when he had passed through Emberly on his way to Castle Kastorus, he had no idea who the proprietor was. He hoped they’d be able to help.
“Wait here,” Gideon said to Clonk and Grimsby as he approached the wooden door of the glassworks and knocked.
It took a moment before a call came from somewhere inside the building, a woman’s voice saying, “Be right there!”
Gideon waited, looking back at Grimsby and Sir Clonk standing near the cart. Gods, Gideon thought, they couldn’t be more conspicuous if they tried. Unfortunately, a suit of armor and a man whose skin was entirely covered couldn’t help but be conspicuous. As Gideon looked at them, he wondered if he’d made a mistake bringing them here. But he could hardly haul all this himself, either. Nor could he deal with the spiders alone.
They’d have to hope no one was looking for anything suspicious.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“Remember,” Gideon said to Grimsby, “if anyone asks, you have a rare skin condition.”
The door opened, and a red-haired, heavy-set woman wearing a brown apron answered. She looked like she was in her mid-thirties, and her hair was tied back in a bun. She looked at Gideon quizzically as if sizing him up. “Don’t know you,” she said, stretching out one of her gloved hands. “I’m Aurora.”
“Hi,” Gideon said, shaking it. “Gideon. I’m trying to fix up the castle up the mountain, and I—”
“Oh! It’s you!” Aurora said, grinning. “I heard about you. We all thought you were dead. Down at the pub, there was a bet going.” She frowned. “I should have put in some money.”
With a shrug, she let the door swing open, turned around, and walked deeper into the glassworks. After a moment of hesitation, Gideon followed her inside, hoping his companions would be fine without him.
“So, uh,” Gideon began, looking around the glassworks. There were shelves full of tiny glass sculptures depicting all manner of animals and beasts. “I was hoping to make an order. There’s a crack in the conservatory roof, and I—”
“I’m not going up there to install it,” Aurora said, sitting at a workbench and crossing her arms. “That place is spooky as hell.”
“No, we can install it. We just need it made.”
Gideon reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheaf of paper where he’d sketched the glass pane and written down its dimensions. He handed it to Aurora, and she raised an eyebrow.
“I mean, this is pretty simple. I can make this easily.” She shrugged. “It’ll be ready in a few days.”
“Great, thank you.” Gideon tried to hide his disappointment that they wouldn’t be able to take it back with them today. But he knew he shouldn’t have been surprised. In hindsight, it had been foolishly optimistic to think they would be able to return with a custom order on the same day. “I really appreciate it.”
She smiled. “Aren’t you polite? That’ll take you far. But listen, no refunds if the glass breaks on your way up the mountain. The wilderness doesn’t work for me.”
“I understand.” Gideon found his eyes drawn to the shelves of sculptures. “These are beautiful, by the way.”
“Thanks,” Aurora said, adding, “I just make them for myself. They’re not for sale.”
“Oh,” Gideon said. “That’s too bad. I mean, I’m more concerned with fixing the roof at the moment, but they’d make great decorations.” Gideon walked over to the shelf and looked at a tiny glass dragon, its wings spread, breathing fire into the sky. The blown glass representing the fire was tinted red. The attention to detail was incredible. Gideon had never seen anything like it. Suddenly, he realized how they must have been made. “You make these with magic?”
Aurora looked at him for a moment, then smirked. “What, you don’t trust the skill of my hands?”
“I didn’t mean to insult you. I just meant—”
“Nah, you’re not wrong.” She wiggled her fingers. “Aeromancy. I manipulate the air in the glass as it cools. I can change its flow and its temperature. How’d you know?”
“Oh, I’m a geomancer,” Gideon said. “But I’m only Silver.”
“Only?” Aurora raised an eyebrow. “If I were more sensitive, lad, I’d be offended. I’m Silver, and I doubt I’ll ever get higher. Not that I mind. What are you trying to do, become a master wizard?”
Gideon felt the tips of his ears grow hot. “Not exactly,” he stammered. “I just want…” He paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “I want to go as far as I can. That’s all.”
Aurora nodded. “Ah, but you must have a goal besides that. Go far, sure. But what do you hope to reach once you’re there? What are you hoping to achieve?”
Gideon looked at her, his mind struggling to process the question. To impress Yvette and the other young mages at Falconridge? To show his old boss he was better than EnviroCharm? To convince himself he had what it took to do great things, and always had? So if he ever saw his father again, he could look his old man in the eye and tell him he’d made it without him?
None of those, however, seemed like the right answer.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.
“Ah,” Aurora replied. “You might want to figure that one out, kid.”
“While I’m working on it, how much do I owe you? And, uh, do you know of anyone in the village that could use the services of a geomancer?”
Aurora looked at him and scratched her head as if thinking of her answer when a scream sounded outside.
“He’s returned!” a man’s voice shouted. “The Rattlebandit!”
“Oh, shit,” Gideon muttered. He ran outside, only to be greeted by a man wearing overalls pointing his finger at Grimsby’s face.
“I remember you,” the man said. “I was only a boy then, but I’ll never forget the Rattlebandit.”
“The what?” Grimsby shouted.
Sir Clonk’s laughter echoed up and down the street. “No, sir, you misunderstand. My companion here has a rare skin condition.” Clonk turned to Gideon, who was standing in the doorway with his mouth agape, and gave him an awkward thumbs up.
Gideon walked forward, holding out his hands. “I’m sure this is all just a misunderstanding—”
But the villager would not be deterred. He shook his head and stared at Grimsby, his eyes narrowing. “No, of course, it’s you. You had that same beard.”
Gideon wanted to hold his head in his hands and scream. Had Grimsby worn the exact same disguise?
“Please stand back,” Clonk said. “The skin condition is very severe.”
“I’ve been waiting to do this for twenty years,” the man said, reaching into his pocket. He rummaged around, then pulled out a handful of coins. “The money you left us that night got my mother, father, sister, and me through a hard winter.” He held out the coins.
Grimsby stared at him in shock.
“Please, Rattlebandit, take it. It’s only a fraction of what I owe you. I can’t ever repay you, not really, but… Please, take this. It’s the least I can do.”
The skeleton held out his gloved hand, and the man pressed the coins into Grimsby's palm.
“You’re not, uh, terrified of me?” Grimsby asked.
“I mean, I was,” he said. “Twenty years ago. But when I thought about it, I realized you ran away from us, not the other way around. And you gave us a windfall in the process. So how scary could you really be?”
“But why Rattlebandit, then?”
“Oh,” the man said. “It just became kind of a funny name when we’d tell the story about you. My father always said he made out like a bandit that night. How often do you sell a bag of manure and make twenty gold?”
“No, seriously,” Clonk said. “It’s highly contagious.”
Gideon was suddenly aware of Aurora looming behind him. She clapped her gloved hand on his shoulder. “Hmm,” she said, stroking her chin. “I’ll tell you what, Gideon. This first one is on me.”
----------------------------------------
Copyright © 2023 Tater Prince. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or used in any manner without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
This novel is only posted here on Royal Road. If you see it anywhere else, please let me know! Thank you.