The long line. Food magic? The priestess appreciates the finished fountain. Fake smiles. Of ghosts and demons. Dishes and friendship.

Tuesday, the traffic to the diner was far heavier than usual, but Sal wasn’t ready for the crowds that came in on that Wednesday morning, where he only had table settings for half of his patrons. There was a line outside, and by noon, it was stretching down to Tower Road.

Theovanni took over serving the food that Shivaun was cooking at lightning speed. Sparky was in the back, breathing fire every so often to keep the stoves burning as hot as possible.

Sal went out to the end of the line and went up to a couple of cat boys, fully armored, with long knives attached to their gauntlets. The Filinar guys nodded at him as he approached them. He knew Hajawan, so he could speak to them in their native language, only his cat accent wasn’t as good as he would’ve liked. “Greetings and purrings, my friends. What is this line for?”

One of the cat boys, a tigerish sort of fellow with black and orange stripes tapped his claws against his leg. “Purrings to you, friend. There is a café in Champion Plaza. It just opened, but it has something called backmeat. It gives one Mana. If you have the coin. Which we do.”

The other one, a lion man with a mane, shook his head. “No, all the food is magical. And it’s called Backon, as it turns your Mana back on.”

Sal only smiled. “I believe the cut of the pig is called bacon. And yes, there was magical bacon, but it sold out early. Not all of the food is magical.”

The tiger boy looked disgusted. “No, the food is magical. I don’t mean to hiss, sir, but don’t speak unless you are certain of the facts.”

Sal stepped back as more people got in line. “I suppose you are right.”

He wasn’t going to argue the point, since both of the cat boys were intent on believing what they wanted. They would in time understand the nature of his diner. At some point, he would have a variety of magical food, once he got more powerful.

Yes, he might’ve gotten a few Karma points for insisting on telling them truth, though at the same time, getting the Karma points was rather easy, since so many in Tower City needed so much help.

He was on his way back to the café when he saw the elderly Templars, crowding around the finished fountain. Most of them had bandages on various parts of their body, thanks to Dergle. The Pontrafax Genetrix, Kizi Adamu, stood with her arms crossed and permanent scowl on her face. When she saw Sal, she marched over to him. “What is the meaning of this? You, there. What is your name again? Sal Dang?”

“Sal Fang,” he said softly. He didn’t have the Fear Blade because he wasn’t about to carry a sword around. That was only asking for trouble. “What is the meaning of what, Pontra? The fountain seems mostly repaired, though I have it on good authority that it will be turned on this Saturday morning, to celebrate the end of summer and the opening of Champion Plaza proper.”

His good authority was Betty Don’t-Bite. She’d overheard a couple of government officials who would be providing the Gimm technology that would turn on both the lanterns and the water pump. Dergle had done a fabulous job with his repairs. At the same time, Ziggy was finally coming through, though he’d said that the fountain was the church’s responsibility, and he had a special relationship with that particular religious organization.

Speaking of which, Sal had already sent word to Governor Ziggy about the Saturday celebration. He also sent letters to the five Braggadorio families, on Tony Belly’s old stationary, about the grand opening of Champion Plaza. There would be music that night after it got dark. It was going to be a wild day of food and festivities.

Sal had not sent the Pontra an invitation. For obvious reasons.

He invited the Braggadorios to set up booths to sell their various, and of course, only Otto Ovum and Hamletti Hooftop had responded. The other three families hadn’t yet, though they still had three days until the big unveiling.

His new furniture would also arrive on Saturday morning, including four tables, eight chairs, and three new umbrellas. Sal was going to keep the scorched one. It filled his heart with an odd joy, remembering his first encounter with Theovanni and his tiny dragon.

The Pontra’s eyes became slits. “You. You and that demon are cahoots. You are a tool of evil.”

“If I were, your grace, I do believe that the fountain would have been fixed far earlier. It was a hardship on me and my business.” He forced a smile. “But let us leave all of that behind us, shall we?”

Kizi Adamu opened her mouth, closed it, and then put on her own fake smile. “I was very relieved to see that your business managed to survive the construction. I did push my Templars to hurry. Perhaps you are right. Let us leave all of that unfortunate business behind us. Saturday, you say, is when we are celebrating the fountain being finished. I suppose all are invited?”

Sal could see the wheels already turning in her mind. “Yes, Pontra, all are invited who have the best interests of Champion Plaza in mind. It will be a peaceful, happy day, and I hope that it will usher in a new era for this part of town. It was once a beloved place.”

“Oh, it was,” she agreed. “I would also like to see this part of town enjoy a renaissance. It is so near to the church, but I do have worries, however, about the ghosts, the demons, the dark things that haunt the buildings. You have ghosts in your diner, do you not?”

His first inclination was to lie. He so wanted to lie. It would be too easy to lie. Instead, he told the exact truth. “I have learned to live with the ghosts that are in my diner, and they do not bother the customers anymore, and so, they do not bother me.” Every word was the truth.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

The Pontra cocked her head to the side. “Can the same be said for the demon that hurt my poor Templars, all in the prime of their lives.

Sal didn’t roll his eyes, though that took some effort. “The same can be said for the demon, though after he hurt your people, my friends and I fought him and managed to convince him to leave. He is gone for now. If Grandmother Maker is kind, he will not return.”

Kizi Adamu furrowed her brow. “So you admit that you have had dealings with the demon?”

“Unwanted dealings. Yes. If I never saw the ash demon again, I would not weep.” Again, telling the truth was so very easy. In his heart of hearts, though, Sal knew he wasn’t done with Dergle Driptongue. The demon would return, he had to, because they were bonded, and yet, Sal had given the demon very specific instructions—return only when your desire is to serve me and this diner righteously and obediently.

Knowing the ash demon, it would take a bit for Dergle to come up with way around that order. Sal only hoped that Shivaun would remember how to make the chocolate-chip cookies, because they were very good. Missing out on them would make Betty sad at the very least.

Serving them felt like honoring his father’s memory.

The Pontra Genetrix studied him. “It seems you have an answer for everything.”

Sal bowed. “I am merely trying to run a successful restaurant, which should benefit my neighbors as well as the town.”

“So it would seem.” The Pontra then got even sweeter, teeth-achingly so. “I am your neighbor, the closest one outside of that wretched tower, and if I can ever help you, please, I beg of you, let me know.”

“Of course,” Sal said simply. “I know the Church wishes the best for all peoples everywhere.”

Did the Pontra almost roll her eyes? Now, that would be very funny if that were the case.

But alas, no.

The Pontra snapped her fingers. “Come, my Templars. Let us leave this very responsible businessman to his daily duties. I will attempt to tell my congregation of Saturday’s joyous occasion. A working fountain in Champion Plaza is a glorious occasion.” She said like she’d just taken a sip of a very sour lemonease.

She walked away in a huff, with her beaten and bandaged retinue falling in after her.

Sal knew that she wasn’t about to change. A thriving Champion Plaza would be bad for her business. No, she would continue to spread the rumors of ghosts and demons in the square, and she would come up with other ways to bring about his undoing.

Sal had to wonder about his life. To think, dealing with the demon was easier than dealing with the Pontra. At least with the demon, he got cookies.

That night, after the busiest day so far, Sal walked back to Confusion Street and the Body & Mind Tables. He wasn’t there in time to set up, but he was there to help Fabrizio do the dishes. Like before, Sal washed and the Ponti dried and put stuff away. The former Dark Lord told him all about his encounter with Kizi Adamu.

Fabrizio sighed. “I’m sorry, Sal, that she has it in for you. But maybe now that she sees how serious you are, she’ll change her tune. That could happen, right?”

Sal had to splash the priest with some soapy water. “Do not be naïve, my friend. She does not want a vibrant Champion Plaza. Believe me, she has only just begun to endeavor to shut me down and return the plaza to its former haunted state.”

“Oh boy, Sal. You’re probably right. I’ll see what I can do, though she doesn’t care much for what I think. She’s in charge, and I’m just out here, feeding people and getting people to read. Oh, and speaking of reading, my Gorbin is getting better. Did you know they have a whole library of Young Adult books? I am very impressed, and quite excited. How did things go with the Gorbin on Sunday?”

Sal told him, and Sal realized he hadn’t gotten any Karma Points for coming to do dishes. Interestingly enough, he didn’t care at all. He was just glad to be there helping his friend.

A second later, the message came, giving him enough points to get to purple, or 85%. The message said something about him simply helping out a friend with no ulterior motives. Sal was glad the system recognized the truth about that.

Fabrizio set a pile of clean plates down on the shelf behind them. “So you’ll have to be seeing more of the Gorbin shamanka, right?”

“The shaman, yes. To level and to choose my proficiencies, I will need her assistance. I find that I do not mind at all. I am grateful that I have magic, and I am very grateful for the bacon. The Pork Poet has been very kind, and I think, maybe, you have aided me in that.” Sal turned and stopped washing dishes. ‘Verily, Fabrizio, your assistance has made my life possible here. You fed me, you aided me in dealing with my ghosts, and you have been astounding. I so appreciate you. You are the best of friends, and I…”

He felt his throat close from the emotion. He was near tears. It took a moment, but he pulled himself together. “I needed a friend who wouldn’t betray me.”

“Betray you?” Fabrizio laughed and came over to hug him. “I’d never betray you! If there’s one thing you can say about Yeshu of the Book, he was always the best of the gods. He wouldn’t betray anyone, ever. And since I’m his servant, that goes for me as well.”

Sal leaned into the hug until the Ponti pulled back. “Yeah, Sal, I feel the same way about you. You’ve opened a whole new world to me. It’s not just the new language and the new books, but it’s your restaurant, the ghosts, everything. I’ve grown so much since we met. I can’t thank you enough.”

“We are even,” Sal said quietly. “We are friends. However, little did I know when we first met our friendship would involve so many dishes.”

That made Fabrizio laugh as they went back to washing and drying.

There was a comfortable silence between them for several long minutes.

Before he realized it, Sal was asking questions freely. “My friend, Fabrizio, I am sure you know you are handsome, if nothing else, your dimples are very striking to say nothing of your biceps. The church allows courting and marriage, and yet, your social calendar remains free. Why is that so?”

The Ponti paused drying a plate. “Oh boy, well now, that’s a question everyone has all right. Funny thing is, I don’t feel handsome at all. Probably because of how I grew up. Let’s just say it’s a long, long story of how I got here, feeding people, reading a bunch, and not, uh, dating. Too long of a story tonight I’m afraid.”

Sal was more intrigued than ever. At the same time, he felt a bit ashamed for asking. “I do apologize, Fabrizio. It seems it is a painful subject. I too have my own long story, and one day, I would like to tell you everything.”

“That’s a deal then. The best kind of deal.” Fabrizio smiled, showing those dimples. He then seemed to get embarrassed, so he turned and placed a plate gently on a shelf, and subtly changed the subject. “You know, I think there are some old Gorbin cookbooks down in the secret library you found. I’m thinking maybe they can give you some ideas for your proficiencies. You could take them to the Gorbin, maybe, though I have to ask, Sal, how come that wasn’t a big deal for you? I mean, most folks would die twice at the very thought of going to Bloodsoaked. But you did it without a problem.”

Sal only laughed a little. “I had little choice, my friend. It was not courage, but desperation. Another chapter in my long, long story. Much of it is tragic, but nearly all of the tragedy is of my own making.”

The former Dark Lord wanted to tell his friend everything right then, about his life as the Dark Lord, about his death, and about his Mysterious Benefactor bringing him back to life.

But Sal couldn’t, not yet.

For now, his Benefactor wasn’t removing Karma points for lies of omission. Sal thought that might change at some point. If Yeshu was right, the way of the righteous only narrowed.

But those were thoughts for another day. For now, Sal would merely enjoy his life and look forward to Saturday, when most of his friends in Tower City would show up for a kind of second grand opening.