Novels2Search

Small Steps

"Alright, Junior," Silas said softly, adjusting the slug-rat on his shoulder. "Let's see if we can find some work."

The journey to the Registry Office was uneventful but tedious. Silas kept an eye out for potential dangers while mentally rehearsing how he'd explain Silas Junior to anyone who asked. He hoped they'd focus more on his willingness to work than on his pitiful summon.

Arriving at the Registry Office, Silas took a deep breath and stepped inside. The office was bustling with activity; tamers and summoners of all kinds crowded around various desks and counters. He spotted Morgaine at her usual station and made his way over.

Morgaine raised an eyebrow when she saw him approach with Silas Junior perched on his shoulder. "Back so soon?" she asked.

"Yeah," Silas replied, trying to sound casual. "Diog's recovering from some injuries. Thought I'd see if there were any odd jobs available."

Her gaze shifted to Silas Junior, her expression unreadable. "And this is your... replacement?"

"For now," he admitted.

Morgaine tapped her chin thoughtfully before nodding. "Alright then. Let's see what we have." She rifled through a stack of papers on her desk before pulling one out and handing it to him. "There's a delivery job that just came in," she said. "Nothing too dangerous—just taking some documents across town."

Silas took the paper gratefully. "Perfect," he said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

As Morgaine detailed the task specifics, Silas felt a flicker of hope rekindle within him. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Morgaine handed Silas a sealed envelope. "These documents need to be delivered to the Merchant's Quarter, specifically to Master Thaddeus at the Golden Scale Trading Company," she explained, her tone businesslike. "Payment is two silver upon confirmed delivery."

Two silver. It wasn't much, but given his current situation, Silas wasn't about to turn his nose up at any opportunity. He carefully tucked the envelope into his jacket. "Anything else I should know?" he asked.

Morgaine's expression softened slightly. "Just... be careful in the Merchant's Quarter. The traders there can be..." she paused, searching for the right word, "difficult."

Silas nodded, already heading for the door. "Thanks, Morgaine."

"And Silas?" she called after him. He turned back. "Try not to let your... companion make a mess on any important documents."

Silas Junior chose that moment to emit a wet gurgle, drawing several disapproving looks from nearby clerks.

The walk to the Merchant's Quarter took them through increasingly affluent neighborhoods. The cobblestone streets grew wider and better maintained, while the buildings rose taller, their facades decorated with ornate carvings and gilded signs. Merchants in fine clothing haggled with customers while guards in polished armor kept watchful eyes on the proceedings.

Silas felt distinctly out of place, especially with Silas Junior leaving occasional slime trails on his shoulder. Several passing merchants wrinkled their noses at the sight of them.

The Golden Scale Trading Company's office was impossible to miss – a three-story building with actual gold leaf decorating its entrance. Two guards flanked the main doors, their armor bearing the company's emblem. As Silas approached, one of the guards held up a hand.

"State your business."

"Delivery from the Registry Office," Silas replied, producing the sealed envelope. "For Master Thaddeus."

The guard scrutinized him for a moment, his gaze lingering on Silas Junior with obvious distaste. "Wait here," he commanded before disappearing inside.

Silas shifted uncomfortably under the remaining guard's suspicious stare. Silas Junior, perhaps sensing the tension, attempted to hide behind Silas's neck, leaving a cold, slimy trail in its wake.

After what felt like an eternity, the first guard returned. "Master Thaddeus will see you. Follow me."

They were led through a series of opulent corridors, past busy clerks and important-looking individuals engaged in heated discussions about trade routes and profit margins. Finally, they reached a door marked with a golden nameplate: "Master Thaddeus, Chief Operations Officer."

The guard knocked twice before opening the door. "The delivery boy, sir."

Silas bristled at being called a "delivery boy" but kept his mouth shut. He stepped into the office, immediately struck by its grandeur. Rich carpets covered the floor, and the walls were lined with expensive-looking paintings. Behind a massive desk of polished mahogany sat Master Thaddeus himself.

The merchant was a corpulent man with multiple chins and fingers adorned with gaudy rings. He barely looked up from his paperwork as Silas entered. "The documents?" Thaddeus demanded, his voice carrying the distinctive accent of Bastian's upper class.

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Silas stepped forward and placed the envelope on the desk. "From the Registry Office, sir."

Thaddeus finally deigned to look up, his small eyes widening in disgust as they landed on Silas Junior. "What in the seven hells is that... thing?"

Silas Junior, apparently choosing the worst possible moment to demonstrate its abilities, let out a wet burp and drooled slightly. "My... current summon, sir," Silas managed, fighting the urge to wipe the slime off his shoulder.

Thaddeus's face contorted with revulsion. "Get that abomination out of my office before it ruins my carpets!" He frantically waved a bejeweled hand at one of his clerks. "Pay him and get him out!"

The clerk hurried forward with two silver coins, practically throwing them at Silas in his haste to see them gone. "Thank you, sir," Silas said stiffly, pocketing the coins. He turned to leave but paused at the door. "Oh, and sir? His name is Silas Junior."

He didn't wait to see Thaddeus's reaction, instead hurrying out of the building as quickly as dignity would allow. Once outside, he let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Well, that could have gone worse," he muttered to Silas Junior, who responded with what might have been an agreeable squish.

Back at the Registry Office, Morgaine was waiting with another assignment. "How did it go?"

"Master Thaddeus wasn't exactly thrilled with Junior here," Silas admitted, "but the delivery was made."

Morgaine nodded, unsurprised. "He's never thrilled with anyone. But you completed the task, and that's what matters." She pulled out another document. "Ready for another?"

Silas checked his coin purse. Two silver wasn't going to make much of a dent in his problems, but it was better than nothing. "What've you got?"

"The Alchemists' Guild needs someone to collect ingredients from the market district. Simple gathering work, but they're paying five silver." She held up the list. "Interested?"

"Five silver?" Silas perked up. "What's the catch?"

Morgaine's lips twitched. "Some of the vendors can be... particular about who they sell to. And the Alchemists' Guild is very specific about quality."

Silas took the list, scanning it quickly. Most items seemed straightforward enough – dried herbs, mineral salts, common crystals. Nothing too exotic or dangerous. "We'll take it," he said, tucking the list away.

"Good luck," Morgaine called after him as he headed out. "Try not to let Junior eat any of the ingredients!"

The market district was crowded as usual, filled with the sounds of haggling and the smells of various foods and spices. Silas consulted his list and began making his way through the stalls.

The first few items were easy enough to find – basic herbs from a weathered old woman who barely glanced at Silas Junior, and crystals from a distracted vendor too busy arguing with another customer to care about the slug-rat's appearance.

It was at the third stall that things got complicated. "No," the merchant said flatly, looking at Silas Junior with undisguised horror. "I will not sell my premium mineral salts to someone with... that thing. It might contaminate my entire stock!"

Silas gritted his teeth. "The Alchemists' Guild sent me specifically—"

"I don't care if the High King himself sent you," the merchant snapped. "Not with that creature. It's dripping... something!"

Indeed, Silas Junior had left a small puddle of slime on the counter. Silas quickly wiped it away with his sleeve. "Look," Silas tried again, "I just need—"

"No! Get that disgusting thing away from my stall!"

Other merchants were starting to stare. Silas felt his face growing hot with embarrassment and anger. He was about to give up when Silas Junior suddenly perked up, its tiny nose twitching.

Before Silas could stop it, the slug-rat launched itself from his shoulder onto the merchant's counter. The man screamed and jumped back as Silas Junior slithered rapidly between jars and containers.

"Stop it! Get it away from my—"

But Silas Junior had already found what it was looking for. With surprising precision, it wrapped itself around a specific jar of mineral salts and brought it to Silas.

The merchant stared in shock as Silas examined the jar. These weren't just any mineral salts – they were exactly what the Alchemists' Guild had requested, down to the specific grade and quality.

"How did it...?" the merchant sputtered.

Silas was equally surprised but tried not to show it. "As I said, the Alchemists' Guild sent me. Now, how much for the jar?"

Still somewhat dazed, the merchant named his price. Silas paid quickly before the man could change his mind.

As they left the stall, Silas looked at his unlikely companion with newfound respect. "Good job, Junior. Maybe you're not completely useless after all."

Silas Junior gurgled happily and left another trail of slime down his back.

The rest of the shopping went more smoothly. Word seemed to spread through the market about the slug-rat that could identify quality ingredients, and while merchants still looked disgusted, they were more willing to do business.

By the time they returned to the Alchemists' Guild, Silas had everything on the list. The guild's quartermaster inspected each item carefully before nodding in approval. "Excellent quality," she remarked, counting out five silver coins. "Not many can tell the difference between standard and premium ingredients. How did you manage it?"

Silas glanced at Silas Junior, who was contentedly oozing on his shoulder. "Let's just say I had some unexpected help."

The quartermaster raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well, if you're interested, we often need quality ingredients. Come back tomorrow – I might have more work for you."

Outside, Silas held up his coin purse, now seven silver heavier than when the day began. It was a far cry from the gold he needed, but it was progress. "You know what, Junior?" he said as they headed back toward the estate. "Maybe Bonereghard was wrong about you. Maybe we can make this work after all."

Silas Junior responded by leaving another trail of slime down his back.

When they finally reached the estate, Bonereghard was waiting in the entrance hall, his skeletal features arranged in their usual expression of sardonic amusement. "Ah, the triumphant return," he drawled. "And how much did our dynamic duo earn today?"

Silas held up his coin purse. "Seven silver. Not bad for our first day."

Bonereghard's monocle glinted in the fading light. "Indeed. Though at this rate, you'll have paid off the estate's debts sometime in the next century. Assuming, of course, that Silas Junior doesn't dissolve through the floor first."

As if on cue, Silas Junior let out a wet burp.

"He actually helped today," Silas protested. "He can identify quality ingredients. The Alchemists' Guild wants us back tomorrow."

"Marvelous," Bonereghard replied dryly. "Our savior is a slime-trailing connoisseur of herbs and minerals. Truly, the Beckham legacy is in capable appendages."

But Silas noticed that when he went to check on Diog later that evening, there was a small bowl of premium mineral salts mixed into the wolf cub's healing potion. Perhaps Bonereghard wasn't quite as dismissive of Silas Junior's talents as he pretended to be.