Remembering that oath? Out and about. Flyers that don’t fly. A rocky conversation. The newspaper. The stink.
After the disappointing encounter with Kaixo, Sal didn’t have the heart to make the trek over to the Mind & Body Tables. He slept in and ate his morning peach in bed. He was grateful the ghost didn’t force him down the steps to get his morning fruit.
Sal spent most of that day in bed, sleeping, or thinking, or doing a little mixture of both.
Betty was out and about. Was she angry with him?
He’d told her about what happened with Kaixo, including how she’d seen into his past. As far as he knew, Kaixo might know about his greatest sin, but she didn’t know about his Dark Lording.
Betty seemed to take in stride, though she’d soon vanished after that. Maybe she wouldn’t come back.
Could Sal blame her?
He wasn’t sure why he was taking his locked Diagraff so hard. it wasn’t like he could work to get new spells. What he needed was a day off to sleep and eat and not worry about his magic or about the diner.
His benefactor had other ideas.
Around three in the afternoon, he was napping, when he got the warning message:
<<<>>>
Warning! Karmic Gauge reduced by 1%. That solemn oath isn’t going to fulfill itself. You’re too close to stop now!
Current Karmic Gauge: 77 % (Still blue, but dontcha wanna get to purple?)
<<<>>>
Sal drew himself up out of the bed, rubbing at his chest.
The banshee stood at the top of the steps, arms crossed, looking angry.
“I know, Shivaun, I know. I needed to rest. I guess I have rested enough. It’s time to start spreading the word. I’ll go and help Fabrizio get the Mind & Body Tables ready, which should give me the percentage point I just lost. And I aim to get more than that.”
Sal got out of bed, washed himself out back in the alley, and put on a fresh set of clothes. He then hurried across town, pausing at the entrance of the Godspear Tower, where a few battered Climbers were limping out, having failed to get the Copper Key.
He’d only heard whispers about what an actual Tower climb was like, though he couldn’t blame those adventurous souls for trying. The reward of a Deux Coin was a strong incentive. Anyone who got one might do a little Dark Lording of their own.
Sal touched the stone and knew that if he could lure in some of the foot traffic off Tower Road, he might just fill his diner. For that, he needed to get creative. He’d start with a sign, though he knew that was just a start.
Fabrizio met him outside the Chapel, and they walked back around to the little kitchen back by the Mind & Body Tables. While they cooked lentils and baked bread, they talked about all of Sal’s ideas for opening his diner. Fabrizio liked some, hated others, but insisted that what Sal needed were several big signs and some flyers. Sal wasn’t clear on that flyers were, but he trusted the Ponti like no one else.
There was a Gimm shop up near the North Wall, that might be able to help him. The Stoneskins were very clever when it came to merging gadgets and magic. Cheryl’s fan back at the Copper Key Inn had been an example of that.
The North Wall section of town would fall under the power of the Viscount of Grains, someone that Sal hadn’t met yet. And after his strange encounter with Otto Ovum, he was okay with that.
Sal also had another request for Fabrizio. The former Dark Lord wanted to help people, either financially or with some work, because it was clear Sal wasn’t going to be to cheat his way into unlocking his Diagraff. At this stage, he thought his best chance for success was getting his Karmic Gauge to 100%. Helping Kaixo had given him a full twenty points. If he could house another poor soul, that might just push him over the edge.
Fabrizio only laughed. Finding people to help in Tower City wouldn’t be difficult at all. Everyone needed something. For now, that was great news for Sal. However, he couldn’t let that get in the way of opening his café, however.
After helping Fabrizio clean up, Sal swung by the Copper Key Inn and offered Kaixo a job.
She didn’t like the idea, but she agreed, because the book he’d given her had provided her with any number of powerful spells. The New Astounders had a Tower Climb appointment, in the next ten days or so, and she promised to tell him when they had an exact date and time.
He was glad. He wanted to be there and wish her and her team well. He was also curious about meeting one of the Scallia Capran dragonriders. He’d only seen two dragons in his long, long life, and they had been magnificent creatures. But how could they get one into the Tower?
The next day, he was up bright and early, getting breakfast on the way. He stopped by a stand selling fried dough rings along with spicy sausage rolls, deep-fried. When he asked the proprietor—an old Primogeny woman with graying hair and way too much ear hair—her name, she said it was Madame Benyay. After some conversation, he learned that she used two different deep-fat fryers for her food. The old elf woman had laughed, eye-crinkling. “Yes! Two fryers. Who wants a sweet sausage roll?”
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Sal asked Madame Benyay if he could buy a few dozen of the dough rings for his café, which prompted a whole conversation on the cursed nature of Champion Plaza and why it was closed. Madame Benyay was pretty sure that Sal would be dead within a week, once the Braggadorios learned that he was trying to open Tony Belly’s old place. Then again, Madame Benyay couldn’t believe that a ghost hadn’t killed him already.
Shrugging, Sal was simply happy to have a source for the pastries. He wanted a dozen plain, a dozen sprinkled with powdered sugar, and a dozen of the lemon rings. It was probably too many, and Benyay made it clear that they only were good right out of the grease, and that he shouldn’t try and sell anything day-old.
Sal made no promises. He hurried off to a busy street near the North Wall, where many of the Gimm lived and worked. He found Faerg’s Printing Shop next to a tall building with name in scrolling letters across the front. The Tower Today! There were several men and Gimm talking excitedly out front, either holding large pieces of folded paper or writing in notebooks.
He wasn’t sure to make of it, so he pushed his way into Faerg’s shop. Faerg himself stood on a stool at his counter. His skin was gray and cracked, and he was as wide as he was tall. A big mop of black hair covered his head, parted in the middle. He had three big fingers and was screwing a nut tight into a nut on a gadget.
“Welcome to Faerg’s. Whatcha be needing?” The Gimm man spoke in a deep, rough voice.
There were any number of jokes about Stoneskins having gravelly voices.
Sal wasn’t about to insult the man by making another one. “I have come for three signs, and some things called flyers. I can only guess they are magical pieces of paper that fly through the air.”
Faerg titled his head. “No, no, that’s not how any of that works. What do you want them flyers for?”
“I am opening the Champion Café on Champion Plaza, in Tony Belly’s old place. I have dealt with the ghosts, and all will be safe, I assure you.”
Faerg shifted his arm, and a few rocky growths on his arm clattered across the counter. “Excuse my stones,” the Gimm printer said. “Do any of the Braggadorios know?”
“Otto Ovum knows,” Sal said.
Faerg grunted. “You might be okay then. Don’t expect much help from Ziggy. He’s only in town to play dress up.” He cleared his throat, then spit a stone into his hand, which he dropped into a basket near him. He also swept the few rocks on the counter into a big palm and tossed them into the same place.
Sal was used to the oddities of dealing with the Gimm. “Yes, sir, so, if you wouldn’t mind, could you explain how flyers work?”
“I print up a bunch of paper, and you hand them out, and tell folks about your diner before someone cuts your throat.” He grumbled laughter. “It’ll be harder to market when you’re dead!”
“Or if you have a sword in your chest,” Sal said with a sigh. “I see. The paper does not actually fly. Where I am from, we were limited to writing a sheet of paper, one at a time, though sometimes, we enlisted legions to aid in the copying.”
Faerg grunted laughter. “Don’t know what to say to that. Anyway. How many do you want?”
Sal didn’t know, but he worked with Faerg on the number, the design, and what might be on the signs. He planned on hanging them on all three entrances to Champion Plaza, which meant Tower Road, at the corner of Holyboat and Wellwater Lane, and down near the harbor at the mouth of Fishstink Street. He was hoping he might get some of the fisherman traffic.
Before he left, Sal had to ask, “I do have one question. What is the Tower Today?”
Faerg squinted one eye shut, which caused a pebble to drop off his chin. “You really aren’t from around here. That’d be the newspaper. If you’re opening your diner, you should pay for some advertisement. I know a good rocky running the printer press, and he knows everyone else. You should also get someone to review your place. Would be good publicity.”
Sal thought he was so lucky to be working with Faerg, but then that was thanks to Fabrizio, who once again proved invaluable. Well, he’d never have to pay for another breakfast or lunch for the rest of his days. Or as long as Sal had the café open.
Sal was about to leave, when his curiosity got the better of him. “Excuse me, Faerg, I would like to ask about the Gimm and the Gorbin who live out in the mountains. Do they really live in peace? I have heard say they do, though I always though the Gimm and Gorbin were loath to be in each other’s company.”
Faerg wrinkled his rocky nose, which sent more pebbles clattering. “Whole lotta Gimm. Whole lotta Gorbin. Some hate each other, some don’t, but here on Torment Island, we’re mostly peaceable. Got a good life out there, in the Undersun Caverns.”
“Why don’t you live there? If I might be so bold to ask such a question.”
Faerg blinked, and it was like rocks clicking together. Nothing dropped off him, though. “Here is where there’s business. Folks like you need printing, and I’m also a Notary Public, and that keeps me busy thanks to the governor and all his paperwork. We Gimm keep close to the North Wall, though, just in case we might have to rock on back to the Undersun City. You being new, we call it the Undersun, or Undersun Caverns, or Undersun City. But you get the point.”
Sal had an idea, and he thought Faerg might help him. “Are there Gorbin sorcerers in the Undersun?”
Faerg squinted his eyes suspiciously and didn’t respond.
It was clear the Gimm man wanted more of an explanation.
Sal had one. “I have a book, written by a Gorbin, and I found some magical theories that I am eager to discuss. Verily, I do not need a necromancer to help with my diner, as I have the ghosts under control. My inquiry is more to satisfy my curiosity than anything diabolic.”
Faerg wasn’t impressed. “Neither the Stoneskins nor the Skinless much like visitors. People have hated us for either having too much skin or not enough. If you went up there, you’d have to do some fast talking. Still might not save your neck. The Gorbin sorcerer you want to talk to just might kill you for fun.”
While he doubted that was the case, it was clear Faerg didn’t want to help him.
He thanked the Gimm, and then left. He’d return the next day to pick up his signs and flyers. He was going to open in three days, on a Monday, and he’d spend the weekend getting the word out. He’d still need to advertise. He went over to the Tower Today building, and had the name of Faerg’s friend, with the unlikely name of Anthrokite.
In the end, he didn’t need a contact. All he needed were some gold pieces and yes, he would have a half-page ad about his restaurant. He bought fourteen days of space, hoping that would be enough. He also bought himself a subscription. It would be a great way to keep track of current events, and he might even learn more about the inside of the Godspear Tower.
All in all, he was feeling optimistic.
Until he returned to his diner.
He planned on cooking himself lunch, practicing both his eggs and his pancakes, and he also wanted to try some bacon, though he was having a hard time finding that cut of pork. It seemed bacon wasn’t as popular as it once had been.
The first thing he noticed as he pushed through the front doors was the smell. It was horrible, a mixture of nightmare stenches, from latrines to graveyards to slaughterhouses. With a little rotten food thrown in to really make your stomach turn.
The second thing he noticed?
Shivaun, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking insanely upset.