Chapter 185
Nerves
Hiccup
I opened my eyes to absolute splendor. Now, Hawkin’s ethereal plane always had colors that were beyond what I could barely recognize. This plane, however, was one of his best ones yet. The flora was divine, absolutely divine. Some of them were translucent, and they gave the gardens a phantom dreaminess.
The tavern was larger than I thought he’d have made it. The grounds spanned more than the square footage of my entire estate, barley fields included. The globe bar was massive, and it looked like it might take a full minute to walk around it.
The oddities of goblin ship wreckage used in furniture or sculptures, brought a worldliness to the space. The tavern was bustling with adventurers and many of my guests. Folk ambled through the gardens, and their delighted gasps filtered through the greenery.
I deposited the invitational beer for the grand opening into my inventory, and I wrung my hands. How nervous it was to be put in charge of Hawkin’s inn! What an opportunity to make things right between him, Abigail, and I. Part of me worried I would squander the opportunity.
“And where is Erik?” I muttered. “He should be here by now.”
“Shall I send a search and wrangle party for him?” said Riggvelte.
“No, that’s quite all right. I’ll exercise patience.”
“Of course, Master. Don’t forget to stretch first.”
I nearly choked on a sudden laugh. That was the Riggvelte I’d made friends with! Ah, but if he could be more himself, I would love that. My favorite side of him was his human side. There were always ways to draw it out of him, such as dungeon crawling with him. Oh, it brought out his wit and mirth time and again.
Ah, those dungeon beers had certainly helped to pump up my Brewer’s Reputation. But managing Hawkin’s tavern would certainly improve it. With Hawkin and Abigail as partners—friends, foremost.—I might be able to reach halfway through gold. Level 3000 seemed just around a few corners! Beyond, like a lantern light across rural landscapes, was diamond rank.
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As if squinting to see such a far away flicker of light, I searched the crowd for Hawkin. Was this the day that I was going to finally meet him? I had an apology in mind which I had been rehearsing all week.
All I’d ever had of his image was what I concocted through Abigail. She never sat me down to describe his features, but I had still ended up with an image of him. He seemed a sweet man.
When Abigail spoke of their adventures together, I couldn’t help but to picture myself and Ashlee. Their adventures reminded me of mine with hers. For Hawkin’s mausoleum beer, I had to thank him. My life was all about beer until his beer changed my life. I could never repay him for giving me one more day with Ashlee. Riggvelte could attest that it changed me. Erik could too.
I slapped my palm with the back of my hand. “Where could Erik be? He might look like an ogre but this isn’t in the man’s character.”
“Say the word, Master Hiccough. I’ll send for him immediately.”
I sighed. “I shall wait…I shall wait…It’s just so unlike him. He’s always been prompt, especially for such an event! Oh, there’s Thrush.”
Preceded by split white air, Thrush stepped onto the plane. Save for Riggvelte and I, everyone shuffled away from the nightream in fear. Gasps trapped air, hands went to hearts, soft curses dropped into beards or blouses.
Abigail strolled out from the gardens, holding a man’s hand. Ah, so that was Hawkin. But they weren’t the only ones to suddenly appear. Butlers emerged from the winding ramp of the beer cave behind the bar. They carried steel firkins on their shoulders, and they lined them up on the bar. One by one, taps were malleted into keystones. A few of the firkins showered out a spray of beer foam.
The bartender raised his hands and smiled wide. “Welcome all! We will begin with a selection of twenty different beers produced by Hawkin Ballow and Abigail Yak. Pairings have been provided by a very special guest. Would the man of the hour be so kind as to introduce Thrush?” The crowd was silent. “…Hawkin?”
Hawkin stepped up, and he cleared his throat. I almost had to laugh; he seemed as nervous as I felt!
“Uh, whoops,” said Hawkin. “Sure. Hello, everyone. Uh, this here is my friend Thrush. He’s just as, uh, scary as he looks, unless you’ve, uh, got some smoked fish for your first encounter. “ He chuckled perceptibly, but his joke was answered with silence. “Uh, sorry, I’m not used to these sorts of things. Thrush wouldn’t try to eat any of—”
He was not good at this, so I stepped forward and whirled around. “Gentlefolk, welcome to Hermit Tavern on Dellia Lucerne’s ethereal plane! Fear not our beloved friend, Thrush! He comes in peace, bearing a thrill of delights for your palettes. Please enjoy his divine smoked meats, extravagant cheeses, and charming smile!”
Thrush tried on a smile. He curled his lips back from his fangs. His teeth seemed so soft that they swayed in his gums. His eyes beat like hearts, and their creamy depths pumped nodes of blood along their mossy veins.
Everyone understandably gave him even more clearance. In that new space, Thrush set up his yurt. When it was all ready and open for folk to meander in, blue smoke from a smokestack that protruded through the top. The smell of smoked fish humidified the air.