Chapter 96

Wood Pie

(Hawkin)

Brewer’s Reputation: 435.

[Slime-tooth Goblinspuck Clone brew.]

[Brewed by Erik Skullander.]

[Silver rank. 98/100 Grand Honorable.]

[Brewed with Quartz valley barley, wheat, and rye in the light lager style with Little Spuck okra. This beer holds a smooth chewy caramel undertone. The hops contain a fragrance of freshly kilned cedar. The foam is Taffmallow. Something for the esoteric beer collector, this beer is 300% more viscous than other lagers, and if a beer could be chewed, this one is a contender. Slimy and not quite slimy all at once.]

Beneath the dome of bone white snow, the foam was a mix of yellow and white, as though turmeric powder had been sifted over white foam. The beer was orange-brown. Erik had somehow turned taffy into something quaffable. The okra gave it the thickness of watery soup.

“This is not goblin spit beer,” said Thrush.

“It’s incredibly close though,” I said.

“Not close.”

“I’m impressed,” said Abigail.

“There’s no goblin spit,” said Thrush, but he was smiling as he stared into his empty tankard. His eyes pulsed and throbbed, one after the other. His toes danced, and his belly gurgled. “I like this.” Orange-brown and yellow colors began to fleck his irises.

“But will the goblins,” said Abigail.

“The goblins already like it,” said Thrush.

“How do you know?” I said.

“Erik gave a barrel to Green-fin, and the goblins drank it up like spit beer.”

“It’s settled,” said Abigail. “Let’s clone this and brew as much as we can to take the burden off Slime-tooth.”

I considered for a beat. Thrush withdrew a chunk of splintered tree trunk from his inventory. He peeled a log-size chunk off the trunk and sniffed it.

“I’m all for it,” I said. “…Would Gloom-glower know the difference?”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“We’ll have to see. I’ll need to talk with Erik about cloning his beer. We’ll have to share profits with him.”

Thrush dropped the log beneath the smoker. He withdrew another chunk of tree, red oak by the look of it, and turned to Abigail. “Yes, a royalty! I will be your merchant.” He passed the red wood beneath this nose, sniffed it like a dog on the scent, and dropped the log beside the first.

“Fine by me,” said Abigail. “All we have to do now is acquire some little spuck okra seeds.”

“We’ll plant them on Beyond the Cabin. We can use a barrel of Aggravated Wild Growth to make them huge. That’ll go a long way. They’ll grow faster there too.”

Abigail heaved a sigh. “I’ll go see if I can find Slime-tooth again and give him some more food and healing beers. Afterward, travel to Lavenfauvish and talk with Erik. If he doesn’t have seeds, Corylus will.”

“And I’ll spend some time with my smoker!” said Thrush.

He was passing another log of wood beneath his nose and inhaling deeply.

“You’ve got new wood to smoke?” I said. “Is that one red oak?”

“Yes. Yes. And post oak and hickory.”

“Choice wood, I think.”

“This one’s apple wood. Smell.”

Thrush passed around a rough log of apple wood. It smelled like a freshly crushed apple. The wood had an aroma that had a tinge of syrup to it. Part of me wanted to lick the wood to see if it was sweet.

“Oh, that’s apple wood for sure,” said Abigail.

“Smell this one,” said Thrush.

Another rough log was passed between us.

“Another fruit wood?” I said.

“Fig,” said Abigail. “Definitely fig.”

“Not fig,” said Thrush.

“Has to be pear,” I said.

“It has to be cherry because it’s cherry wood,” said Thrush.

Now that he mentioned it, it was most certainly cherry wood. It was much more tart-smelling than the apple wood, and I still wanted to put my tongue to it. When the log returned to Thrush’s possession, he bit off a huge chunk and chewed the wood. It sounded like wood tumbling down a barren cliff. The more he chewed, the smaller it got. All the while, his toes were dancing.

But there was more wood! After swallowing, he withdrew another tree trunk section. With his claws, he peeled off a log and passed it around.

Abigail put her nose to the wood and laughed. “Smells like pie!”

“Wow, you’re right,” I said, careful to avoid splinters. “I’ve never smelled wood like this. What is it?”

Thrush bit off a chunk of the trunk and chewed like a beast munching through bone. I could hear the crunches in my own skull.

“My Composition tells me this is pecan wood,” he said. “I had pie once… in Omes Arbor. Tomato pie. I don’t think it tasted like tomato pie.”

“There are all kinds of pie,” said Abigail. “Fig pie, chocolate pie, banana pie, pecan pie.”

“Wood pie. I already like the sound of it. But why are humans making wood pie? It’s difficult for humans to eat?”

“Pecans are nuts.”

Thrush withdrew canopy branches of a pecan tree from his inventory. Abigail and I leapt back to dodge the sudden bush. Thrush crashed through the entangled wood and ripped ripe pecans from the branches. “These.”

After popping a whole pecan nut into his mouth—shell, too—he gave the rest to Abigail.

“I’ll be traveling to Lavenfauvish anyway,” she said. “I might as well bring back some ingredients for pie.”

“For pecan nut pie?” said Thrush. “I’ll smoke extra fish for the occasion. I’ll use pecan wood and we can become 10 percent pecan together.”

With that, Thrush began rifling through his inventory for his next pick of fish.