It was deathly still in the back courtyard of Pheres' residence, overlooking the port. Hunter clung to the shadows gifted by the moon, which had disappeared behind thick, dark clouds. After a strained goodbye, Hunter sped off so he would arrive there before Pheres did. He’d use that time to think about the reason for his late-night surprise visit to his sister Jo.
A flutter of wings overhead drew his attention up to her balcony.
Monty?
Although the courtyard was quiet, light filled the downstairs windows near the servants' entrance. He couldn’t risk calling out Monty’s name. He let out a low whistle like a Nightingale call. Tower had mentioned gray parrots like Monty could talk, but they were very picky about who they deemed worthy.
Given the grave danger Aspa presented to Jo, Hunter hoped the bird might clue him in on what he’d seen. Sharpening his eyes and ears, Hunter stepped closer to the ivy trellis snaking up towards Jo’s balcony and whistled again.
The click-click-click of sharp nails on wrought iron came from above as the bird hopped along the balcony railings. The bird turned around, and big round eyes stared down glittering like black diamonds.
Hunter beckoned Monty with swift, urgent motions of his hand. The bird spread its wings, ready to take flight, then let out a warning squawk. Light spilled across the courtyard from the servants' entrance. A figure emerged, eclipsing the warm glow.
“Sweet merciful heavens, you finally made it. Get over here and let me have a good look at you.” The female voice had a rich, oaky warmth to it.
Hunter looked around, wondering if she was talking to someone else, but he was still very much alone. Stepping away from the wall toward the servants' entrance, Hunter offered a tight smile. To do anything else would make him guilty.
“You had me worried it was getting so late.” She cocked her head to the side. Hey, you’re not Stavros. Is the poor sod’s ticker acting up again? I’m blue in the face telling him and his boss Andreas to take it easy on the snuff!”
Hunter was working through a list of excuses. Thinking on his feet was nothing new to him and he whistled casually as strolled towards her. “Sorry, I don’t work for Andreas. I’m here about the port manager's books.”
The woman looked to be in her fifties, a cloud of white hair crowning her round features. She had the look of a soft kindness that if she grasped you in a hug, would feel like the comfort of being wrapped in a warm woollen blanket. Tugging on her apron strings, she straightened a little, although not surprised that Hunter wasn’t who she’d been expecting.
“The books you say?” She raised a brow, and lines deepened as she puckered her lips. “I don’t have any dealings with that, and I won’t ask any questions why you’re here at this time of night.” Her soft voice turned to stone as she crossed her arms—arms that looked strong enough to wrestle a bear with one hand tied behind her back.
Hunter took that as a sign she was losing patience.
He navigated the courtyard in brisk steps and bowed before her. “Just following orders, you know how it is.”
Her eyes narrowed, her arms rising higher across her chest. “Aye, I certainly do. Did you just rise from the crypt? I’ve seen ghosts that look more robust and more color in their cheeks. I’m fixing up a stew for the master, and I dare say you could do with some, put some meat on your bones.”
Hunter smiled in gratitude. “If I had more time, I’d take you up on that offer, but my orders were clear. I am to speak with the bookkeeper who lives upstairs as a matter of the utmost urgency.”
She looked at him, curiosity brimming in her warm brown eyes, like he was a mystery to unravel. “Is that so. No offense, but you speak much better than you look. Mind you, I’m probably the only one brutally honest enough to tell you you’re whippet thin. If you turned sideways, you’d fall through a drain.”
Hunter laughed. “Yeah, I appreciate your honesty and concern. Can’t say my boss cares as long as I get the job done.”
She clucked like a mother hen and threw a scathing look to the upper levels of the residence. “It’s the same here, lad. I’d say you’re a similar age as my young fella Dimitris, although he’d make two of you. He’s a fine, big strapping lad because I reared him on my granny's homemade pig's trotter stew. I’ve a fresh pot made; it’ll put hairs on your chest and anywhere else you might need it.” She let out a hearty laugh. “Only problem is it tastes so bland because my kitchen herb and spice cupboard is as lively as a group of old farts preaching the word of Raziel.”
Hunter produced a small pouch from his inventory. “My mother swore by volcano salt to give any dish a nice kick. You’re welcome to take this as I’ve got plenty more.”
Her eyes brightened like shiny copper coins. “Oh, I could kiss you.” She pinched his cheek and then took the pouch in her hands with such care, like it was spun from gold. And with a grateful smile, she placed it in her apron pocket. “I haven’t had any salt since the trade route to Haloktima was blocked off. Master Xuthos likes to complain about my cooking but does nothing when I need supplies. Says my stew tastes like pig swill, what does he expect when I don’t have the right herbs and spices to work with?”
“Speaking of work, I really should —”
“Where are my manners? I’m Maeve but everyone calls me Aunty Mae.” She beckoned him inside. “Let me add some of that volcano salt to the stew and fix you up a canteen to take with you.”
“Nice to meet you Aunty Mae, I’m Jakob.”
Hunter hung his head low as he followed her, his eyes keen for any signs of Xuthos or his henchmen that might recognize him.
The kitchen was empty.
“I don’t know where my head is at times. Who is it you were saying you are looking for?” She leaned a hand on the counter while lifting the lid off a big copper pot. Steam rose in white haze, tendrils spreading the savory aroma of cooked meat through the room. She took a pinch of salt from the pouch and began sprinkling it into the pot.
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“I’m supposed to talk with Mistress Filo, about Master Xuthos’ books that keep track of his inventory.”
She suddenly stopped and shot him a wary look. “She’s not here. Lovely wee slip of a girl but it’s strange because in all the time she’s been here, I don’t think she’s ever once left this residence. She’s had plenty of visitors mind you.” She closed the lid on the pot and put the salt pouch away. Moving closer, she lowered her voice. “Between you and me, I don’t like the company she’s keeping, especially the one in the strange looking leather armor and a fancy silver pendant that screams ‘notice me or I’ll gut you like a pig.’ Wouldn’t put it past her to do it either; it’s all there in her eyes, one look from the likes of her’ll drain all the marrow from yer bones.”
She was rambling now, and she knew it. “Ah listen to me, bending your ear with such notions. I’m sorry for wasting your time. Call back tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll be back by then. Besides the stew, is there anything else I can get you?” She looked away, a nervous edge creeping into her voice. She busied herself grabbing a canteen from the shelf and with a ladle scooped in a generous amount of stew.
Hunter took the canteen as soon as it was offered. “Thank you. Do you know where they went?”
Her eyes darkened. “Nobody tells me nothing around here, and I learned a long time ago it’s best not to ask.” She looked around the quiet kitchen. “Listen, I’d love to stay and chat, but we’ve both got work to do even at this late hour. Hope your boss doesn’t bust your balls on this wasted trip here.”
Hunter thought of Tower and the renovations. “I’ll explain, but it would go down a whole lot smoother if I didn’t return empty-handed.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were still alone. He lowered his voice as he turned back and looked her in the eye. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare copper pot lying around?”
She flashed a wry grin. “You know I just might.”
***
Once outside, Hunter searched the skies whistling for Monty. It wasn’t long before the swish of beating wings alerted him to his presence. The bird swooped down and landed on his shoulder. There was a note attached to his foot.
“Thank you, Monty.” He gave him a gentle pat, hiding the urgency in his voice. “Do you know where Jo is now? Can you take me to her?”
The bird shook his head and stretched out a leg with the message while his other talon dug into Hunter’s tunic, prickling his skin. He didn’t care; all that mattered was Jo. Hand trembling, he opened the small message scroll.
Your sister took a walk to the Black Temple. Monty cannot gain entry due to the death cultist’s protection array in place. Don’t come to the forge; I’m not there. I’m gone sight-seeing at the Black Temple. Your sister is safe for now; if they are planning what I think they are planning, we have two days until the dark harvest occurs.
Hunter’s legs trembled like the ground was opening beneath him.
Aspa had Jo!
How the hell did Xuthos just let that happen? Did his Uncle know yet? He never thought he’d have to rely on the pact’s amendment with Claude to keep Jo safe, but he just might if she were with Aspa.
His thumb rubbed the note as he skimmed it again. A subtle sense of relief washed over Hutner, re-reading that Mercos was at the temple. He’d saved their lives once before, but hopefully it wouldn’t come close enough for him to wield his Dragonhammer again.
“Monty, go find Mercos at the Black Temple. Tell him I trust him with my life and Jo’s too. I’ve got something I need to do. Once it’s done, I’ll come find you there.”
Monty let out a mournful caw but nodded his head. He took flight, his wings fluttering like ship sails among dark seas.
Hunter was alone, but he was no longer helpless. He had allies, and he had the means to grow stronger. He was so close to defeating the next gate boss and on the verge of breaking through to become a Third Star Refiner.
There was as much fear for the Black Temple as for Tower, but the horror stories associated with it all led back to death cultists. If Hunter had any hope of breaking into it and finding Jo, he had to advance to the next level. He’d use the slower time difference inside the tower to his best advantage.
Within minutes, he’d arrived in a distant alleyway away from Xuthos’ residence. Out of sight and hidden in the night’s shadows, he rubbed his storage ring staring at the one item in his inventory that caused him the most grief. There would be no way he could ignore the use of the Night Mare.
Narrowing his eyes, Hunter retrieved a golden blush apple. Despite Tower’s tips on beast training techniques, simple observation was out of the question. Straight to appeasement, he gripped the apple and released a steady breath.
Death by stampede was not on his bucket list.
Summoning Night Mare, he readied his stance to leap should she not be pleased. A loud snort and shake of her midnight mane, she hooved the ground ready to charge. With a low whistle, Hunter flashed the apple in front of him. Night Mare tilted her head, the glean from her black eye no longer a strained force ready to attack.
“Come on,” he paused, almost letting ‘girl’ slip past him. “Come on, Alice. This juicy apple will be yours for the taking.”
Night Mare approached with caution, snorting as her teeth bared ready to bite the apple from his hand.
Hunter stretched out his hand, offering it to her and slid a hand over her neck with a gentle pat. Without taking another moment for her to change her mind, he leapt on her back nestled between her wings. The Night Mare chomped, and lifted its head toward Hunter.
“Whoa, now. If you want more apple, I’ve got plenty to give you once you take me to the tower.”
The Night Mare shook her head, whinnying.
Hunter groaned and retrieved one more apple from his inventory. “This one only until you set me down at the tower’s entrance.”
Her neck craned back, lapping up the apple as her wings flapped, lifting them into the sky.
“Yeah!” Hunter pumped his fist into the air, the adrenaline surging at his success as she turned her direction toward Tower. This time she stayed course, avoiding the apple orchard, but his heart raced as she dove head first toward the sea.
“Up, up…” He gripped her neck and main tight, not looking forward to a midnight plunge into the sea.
She shifted, spreading her wings to soar across the waves, her hooves grazing the crests. Turning upward, she slowed to a hover above the edge of the tower’s base.
Kicking his legs over the side, Hunter dropped to the ground and held out another Golden Blush Apple. “That was great Alice, I’m glad we’re starting to see eye-to-eye.”
The Night Mare chomped the apple and spun around, her tail whipping him in the face before taking flight toward the orchard.
Maybe not so much.
He glanced at her stats as he touched the entrance to the tower. Even if he couldn’t unsummon her yet, curiosity pulled at him to see if their relationship had improved.
Name: Alice
Age: 24 Earth hours
Energy type: Mana
Bond type: Summoned. Unique
Relationship: Stood down from Hostile to Passive Aggressive
Specialization: Undetermined
Training Progress: Untrained [See sub-menu for further details.]
Hunter couldn’t stop grinning. A step in the right direction…she no longer wanted to pound him into dust.
He could handle Passive Aggressive, and training progress would improve further in the beast tutorial room. For now, he had another Spartan Sprint to run.