Chapter 10

Clairvoyant

My nerves are on pins and needles all evening. My head is on a swivel. I can't help but feel like we're being watched. Even over the delicious stew the wife of the innkeeper served for dinner, I'm looking around at the shadows more than I am concentrating on my eating.

Little surprise Ayre notices. "Remmi," he asks as he leans across the table with a look of concern, "are you alright? You've hardly touched your stew."

At the reminder, I dip a chunk of bread into it before popping it into my mouth.

I know American bread back home is legally cake in, like, anywhere else in the world that cares to define the difference, but it still strikes me how different the baked good is here. It's a meal unto itself. I'd always heard how bread and water wasn't the abusive prison food we thought of it as because of how heavy the bread was, and how they were getting half or even whole loaves of it. Still, it's an entirely different thing to taste it for myself.

And it definitely isn't cake. Sugar is a luxury item in this world, and even if it wasn't, the French don't exist to start the habit of adding it to everything. The yeast isn't up to the same grade as back home, either. Oh, it's definitely leavened, but maybe the lack of sugar means less expansion. The result is the dense, heavy half-loaf before me that tastes strongly of grain with a piquant effervescence on the back end that reminds me of a mild sourdough. The outside is crisp and crunchy, but despite the weight, the inside is soft and moist.

It's nothing like bread back home, but I could learn to love it all the same. It's one of the things I normally look forward to about eating out. The reason is as much how different it is as it is about the taste on its own. Coming from sweet bread, one wouldn't think that taking that away would be appealing, but there's something bordering comfort food about the hearty, robust flavor.

When I first described my impressions to Ayre, I wasn't nearly so elegant. "Bubbly," was how I described my impression.

"Bubbly?" the elf had asked in clear confusion.

"Yeah, like, fermented? Like I bite into it and get the wheat gas."

Ayre's face had promptly scrunched up, the archer's petite nose wrinkled. "Remmi, that sounds disgusting."

Right now, though, I barely taste it. It's thick in my mouth and it takes effort to swallow. "I can't shake it, Ayre," I answer my friend with a negative turn of my head. "My spider sense is tingling, but I can't figure out why."

A very similar expression of confusion returns to Ayre's face as when I called bread bubbly. "You possess the senses of a spider?"

I shake my head again. "Sorry, figure of speech. It's a way of describing a sixth sense for impending danger."

And there goes the nose wrinkle, albeit in greater confusion, rather than disgust. "What does that have to do with spiders?"

"Nothing, not directly," I admit. "It's actually a reference to a hero from our literature, who stylized himself after a spider."

Ayre just shakes his head. "Your people are weird, Remmi." He turns his attention to the rest of the room, though. "What kind of danger are you picking up on?"

A third time, I give a shake of my head. "I don't know, that's what's so frustrating. I just feel like we're being watched, like there are eyes on us, but every time I turn to see, nobody's there, or everybody's deep in their own business."

The elf across the table from me gives a thoughtful frown. "How is it that you can tell when people are looking at you without seeing them?"

I give a wobbly hand gesture. "Eh, it's not really something concrete. It's just a feeling people get. A splash of paranoia, a rush of adrenaline sending the hairs on your neck up. Are you telling me you've never had the feeling of people's eyes on you like hot spots of sunlight on the back of your neck?"

Ayre's frown deepens. "If I had, I'd see a healer. Or a guard, thinking they'd tried to cast a ray spell on me."

I give a frustrated sigh and tear off another chunk of bread. "I don't know how else to explain it, Ayre, I'm sorry. It's just one of those things, if you know, you know. You know?"

My overuse of the same phrase gives Ayre a bout of confusion, but he shakes his head. "No, I don't. I suppose it's possible it's some sort of defense your people developed in place of magic, what with all of the monster-like threats you face. I've heard some martials get a skill like that. You really can't be any more specific about what's causing it?"

Once more, I shake my own head. A thought grips me and I turn to Ayre with intensity that startles him. "Ayre, I'm sorry, but would you mind if we rented a single room tonight? Two separate beds, of course, but I've got a foreboding feeling. Whatever's going to happen, I'm sure it won't be while we're surrounded by people out here."

Ayre's soft lips purse as he considers the request. "You know double rooms are more expensive than two separate ones. Are you really sure something's going to happen tonight?"

"I'm not sure of anything," I admit, "that's what I've been saying. But I'll feel a lot better when we're on the road again tomorrow." I plop one elbow on the table and prop my head up with that hand as I swirl the bread in the stew. "Probably when I'll be able to sleep, too."

Ayre gives a concerned sigh. "It sounds like a troubling thing to have such a pushy yet utterly unreliable clairvoyant ability."

Still, Ayre agrees to the arrangement, and we turn in to our room once I've made my way around my unsatisfying supper.

It's a small room despite being a double, only a little bigger than the singles. The beds are about the size of twins and are on opposite sides of the room, which is just wide enough so that neither overlaps with the door frame.The room is deep enough to allow a chest for storing our things at the foot of the bed, but all of our stuff is stashed in my storage space, anyway, so those go unused.

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Since it's early, we don't turn in immediately. We read some, we chat some, we tend to our gear. Eventually, however, we do turn in, but not before I bolt the door and tie a string around the lock with a bell on it. If anyone does pick the lock and open the door, they'll knock the bell off. There will be no sneaking in unnoticed tonight.

Despite the precautions, I sleep lightly the entire night, tossing and turning, unable to truly reach deep sleep.

I don't even need the bell after all.

... The moment the bolt clicks over, I'm wide awake. By the time the bell hits the floor, I'm sitting up straight as a rod.

And by the time I reach for my gun, a hand clamps around my arm.

I turn back to see a face inches from my own. With the proximity and near total darkness, it takes me a moment to recognize the bulbous thing as a mask. A fox mask.

"Pardon my intrusion, little chickie," the figure chuckles, "but you smelled so good that I couldn't resist slipping in for a bite."

I recognize the voice immediately, though I never bothered to learn the name behind it. Ever since that afternoon, my mind had a different name assigned to it, courtesy of Ayre.

"... K-Kyubi?!"

"Aw, recognize me already? Or are you talking about the mask?"

"You're the receptionist from the guild," I answer immediately. I'm struggling against his grip, but he's inhumanly strong. I can't even move my arm against his one hand. "The creepy guy that's always smiling."

"Creepy?" he asks as if truly offended. "My smiles are charming! Everyone says so! Why, you two are the first girls to walk away from me, did you know that?"

I grunt as I struggle underneath him, but he's got my lower body pinned to the bed with his legs. "Is that what this is about?" I continue the forced conversation as I search my mind for anything I can do. "Feeling slighted because we didn't melt for you?!"

"No, no," he replies calmly with a shake of his head. "That was just a curiosity, albeit a big one. I suppose I can take a moment to explain. You see, my smile is special. It may be hard to believe now, but I used to be a very homely boy. Gangly, with a large forehead."

"I swear, if this turns into a flashback ..."

He ignores my interruption. "But then ... a genie came to me. Oh, it didn't look like a genie. It scared me. But it promised me anything I wanted. I wanted never to be ignored again. Never to be mocked or ridiculed. And the genie entered me, and made it so. Now, no woman can resist my smile. Not until today."

The description eats at me, and I silently cast Diagnose.

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TARGET: Foxy Receptionist

HEALTH: Uninjured

ENERGY: High

VITALITY: High

CONDITIONS:

- Frenzied

- Corrupted

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Damn it. Corruption, here? ... Wait, what is with that target description?

No, never mind that, I have to keep him talking until I can come up with a way out of this.

For crying out loud, Ayre, why are you such a sound sleeper?!

"You say it's just a curiosity, but you're sure making it sound personal," I try.

"Oh, once, it would have been," he agrees readily. "But I'm past that. I've grown as a person. It certainly would have been easier if you hadn't walked away, but that isn't why I'm here. Elves are succulent, true, but you ..." He sticks his face uncomfortably close again and inhales deeply.

"You smell divine."

That sounds disturbingly not like innuendo. He isn't actually talking about eating me, is he?!

I do my best to keep my voice calm. "Yeah, well, that might have to do with the fact I'm a bona fide Hero! You'd better back off now if you don't want to get hurt!"

He just gives a manic, disturbing giggle. "Oh, you're just a little hero, though! The genie made me too strong! I've fed on Gold-ranks, you know! They couldn't fight back, either. Of course, with my smile, they never got the chance."

"Great, I come all the way to another world, and I run into a Furry version of Jack the Ripper."

He hums at my words, probably trying to parse the nonsense it sounds like to his ears. "You talk a lot more than those other girls, too. They didn't say much at all, actually. They just drooled."

"I don't think you're as strong as you think you are," I barb back. "I think you're just used to them sitting around and letting you do whatever you want!"

He tilts his head comically too sharply, as if accommodating for his mask hiding his expressions. "You know, you have a point. Until the screaming starts. That always snaps them out of it. Admittedly, by then, it's too late."

His head tilts the other way, though. "But we're getting off topic. If you smell this wonderful because you're a Hero, that means the elf isn't. Yet my smile didn't work on her, either. Do you know why?"

I look him directly in the masked eyes and grin. "That's because she's a guy."

Whack!

The reason I was looking him right in the eyes is because I saw movement behind him and I didn't want to give it away. Right on cue, Ayre brains him with his bow and a full-on baseball swing that would have made Babe Ruth proud.

His body shifts off of me and I rear back while triggering Empower, burying a boosted foot into his crotch as hard as I can. The blow physically lifts him the rest of the way off of me and he goes to the floor holding his crushed jewels and howling to the moon.

I go for my gun and yank it out of its holster, resting on the nightstand next to my bed. "Be careful, Ayre, he's Corrupted, just like the Abomination!"

With uncanny suddenness, he stops screaming and rolling about. "... You've seen something like my genie before?"

"Sure did. Let me show you how we killed it."

I fire, but he jumps to the side. My shots chase him up the wall as he continues to dodge until he's in the upper corner of the room.

Ayre tries to hit him, too, while I'm changing rounds, but he's got one foot up on the bed and can't fully draw his bow. All of his shots go wide, with the receptionist only having to shuffle a little.

"This room is too small! We can't move around properly like this!"

The receptionist titters up in the corner. "If only you girls had a strong protector to stand between you and me! I'm going to shred the meat from your bones one strip at--"

"PURIFICATION CANNON!!!"

"Huh?!"

A pillar of light erupts into the night sky over the sleeping village of Meritori, and if any had slept through the alien sounds of gunfire within the inn it emitted from, surely the collapsing remnants of the roof would have changed that.

I stand there like an idiot, staring up at the starry night sky suddenly revealed through our new skylight. Ayre moves over to stand next to me.

"... Do you think the Throne will agree to pay for that?"

A groan from the rubble keeps me from having to answer that question, and I go over to clear the remains of wooden tiles from the body.

"Careful, Remmi," Ayre cautions. "He might only be pretending!"

A second Diagnose clears that possibility. "It's safe. The corruption's gone. His status has changed to Unconscious."

Only then does Ayre move over to join me as we look down at the face underneath the fox mask.

"Wow, he wasn't kidding," I note. "That forehead's huge."

"I feel like he's going to be a lot less popular from now on ..." Ayre agrees as he looks down at the homely, lanky man before us with deep sympathy.

"Well, you know what they say. Easy come, easy go."

"Remmi, nobody says that."