Spit and Song (Ustlian Tales Book 2)

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Spit and Song (Ustlian Tales Book 2) Page 15

by Travis M. Riddle


  He said, “The clothes I’ve got should be fine.” Just to be sure, he closely looked over the types of clothing the store offered, and deemed them unnecessary for him. “We can adapt well in the hot and cold. I need a lot of water, and I personally really don’t care for the heat, but it won’t ruin me.”

  “Your skin doesn’t burn in the sun?”

  Puk shook his head. “I’ve got long-sleeved shirts anyways. And yes, before you ask, the material’s thin. I won’t overheat.”

  Kali nodded, satisfied with his response. Granted, he had only ever traveled by wagon in Herrilock, so he hoped he wasn’t overestimating his own capabilities. He’d let her know later that if he passed out and died, she shouldn’t feel guilty leaving his body to rot.

  With the clothing eschewed, Kali said, “I think that’s all we need here,” and proceeded to pay the elderly faif, who smiled crookedly as they approached her counter.

  The whole haul was kindly paid for by Kali, and they stepped back outside into the bustling market square with their arms full.

  “What’s next on the docket?” Puk asked, blissfully ignorant about any preparations they needed. He was along for the ride.

  “There’s a food stall nearby that I think we should visit to grab you a few more things, but then we’ll probably be good after that. I can go get the rest of the money we’ll need while you finish packing up at the inn.”

  It was a short walk to the stall Kali had in mind, where they bought a greater variety of unsalted nuts (“You’ll be thankful to have options,” she told him), as well as a selection of fresh fruits that she insisted would help keep him hydrated and offer some natural sugars. She also advised he eat them relatively early in the journey before they spoiled in the extreme heat.

  They agreed to meet back at Shiar’s Slumber in an hour, which did not give Puk a huge window to get to Farrowheart District and back while still packing his belongings in time. He kicked himself for not being proactive and getting everything ready the night before, but that was never really his style. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him.

  Once Kali was out of sight, he raced toward the western side of the city, his newly-obtained possessions bouncing wildly in the small, poorly-made complimentary sack the old faif woman had given him to carry everything in.

  By now Puk had memorized the fastest route to Damian’s den, and he was at the green door in no time at all, giving the secret knock which might have just been how Markus normally knocked and did not hold any sort of secret meaning at all.

  Whichever the case, the gatekeeper let him inside, but Damian had unfortunate news for him.

  “I’m out right now,” he told Puk with an apathetic shrug. “Got plenty of other shit you’d like, though.” He was wearing his signature orange overalls and smelled mustier than ever.

  The two stood in the hallway while they talked. Out of the corner of his eye, Puk could see black mages in adjoining rooms casting Fire and Bio spells, crafting more oporist. There had to be a large swath of people in the city using it to justify how much they were cranking out all week.

  Puk’s eyestalks dipped. “I don’t want any ope,” he sighed. He also declined Damian’s offer of ash, even though the discount he added on was slightly tempting. Puk left the den empty-handed, frustrated, and wondering if he had time to find a dealer on the street with any supply left. The spit he had back in his room would last another day or two, but definitely not long enough to make it all the way to Restick.

  Do dealers stay at travelers’ outposts?

  He pondered the notion as he wallowed through the streets of the slaughterhouse district, the acrid stench of raw meat assaulting his nostrils. On his left was a row of shops including butchers, taxidermists, and at the end of the street, a hunting supply store.

  The sight of the store sparked a thought in him, causing him to recall the game of Hunt he’d played with Randolph when he’d lost all of his money.

  The bait card he’d tried to play was ineffective on lamatkas, which led to him losing said money, but Randolph had mentioned off-handedly it would’ve worked if their target was a cordol.

  Well, his target was a cordol now.

  Puk ducked into the empty store and headed for the bait section, trying to appear as if he knew what he was searching for despite never having gone on a hunt of any kind in all his life.

  The shopkeeper, a centript man with a few carapace segments missing, easily noticed how lost he was.

  “What needed?” he asked.

  “Uh…” Puk desperately searched for real terminology, but had to rely on the Hunt card. “I need ‘smelly bait,’” he said, embarrassed.

  Clearly Carsuak was the man’s first language, and Puk watched as he tried to wrap his mind around what was meant by “smelly bait.” Pondering the phrase for a moment, the centript then scuttled over to where Puk stood and snatched up a tightly-sealed pouch with the words “Bor Sludge” embroidered on its front.

  “Import from Gillus. Very bad smell,” said the centript.

  “Will this help catch a cordol?” Puk asked.

  “Very bad smell,” the shopkeeper nodded.

  Puk wasn’t sure if he totally understood, but he had to rely on the man’s expertise, and handed over the crescents for the pouch of dried sludge.

  Once back on the street, Puk pulled the opening of the pouch loose and a rancid smell escaped, sending him into a hacking cough. Spittle soaked into the pouch as he tightened it back up, double-knotting the string keeping it closed.

  “Fuck me,” he gurgled, heading back toward the inn.

  He was definitely feeling more confident in the quality of his smelly bait.

  - -

  The bank clerk gave Kali an unsure look when she requested to withdraw more than half her entire savings, and if she was being honest, she felt somewhat unsure herself.

  She still wasn’t totally okay with helping a drug dealer, and now with the knowledge that Puk had dealings with the man in the past, she was less trusting in her companion. Though he had been amiable and good-natured in the week she’d known him; perhaps all that behavior was in his past. He had turned over a new leaf.

  Plus, there was a part of her that was intrigued by the prospect of seeing Myrisih in person. She wanted nothing to do with any of its back-channel trades—after she completed this book job, anyway—but she was fascinated by the hidden city’s existence, and there was no telling if she would ever get another opportunity to see it.

  Counting the slips of paper and engraved metal coins, three hundred crescents in total, Kali considered how foolish it was investing so much of her own funds into the trip. The return would be vast if they successfully collected the bounty on the book, and Puk exuded confidence in their abilities, but still doubt danced on the edges of her mind.

  The amount was correct, so she stored the crescents in an inner pocket of her knapsack and started back toward the inn.

  Much to her surprise, the receptionist at the front desk informed her that Puk had already returned and was upstairs preparing to leave. She had taken the time to pack her things the night before, so she took these last few minutes to find her parents and say her goodbyes.

  It was mid-morning, so she knew her father would be in the master bedroom drinking a cup of coffee and either reading over various workplace documents or his current novel. He had been a voracious reader in his youth, just like his daughters, but ever since founding the inn, he’d had less time to indulge and snuck in a few minutes of reading whenever he could spare.

  As expected, Kali found him hunched over his desk, with her mother standing nearby. They were examining an expense sheet she had written up, discussing the quantities of meat and vegetables they should order from the grocer the following day.

  She was greeted with warm smiles as she entered the room. Knyla said, “Heading out now, I suppose.”

  Kali nodded. “You suppose right.”

  Her parents tabled their discussion and stood to wrap Kali in
a tight embrace. She squirmed and struggled to free her arms from underneath their bodies to reciprocate the hug.

  After they split apart, Knyla’s face turned serious. “You’ll be careful, right?”

  “I wasn’t planning on it, but if you want me to be careful, then sure,” Kali joked.

  It usually wasn’t such a big deal when she left on her frequent trips across the country. The only thing different about this one was the length of time she’d be gone. She had made sure to tidy up her room before departing.

  Of course she had not mentioned any of the side-journeys she and Puk were taking: no cordol hunt, no Myrisih, no scavenger hunt. But traveling to another country for the first time in her life was a big enough deal for them to express a smothering amount of parental concern.

  When detailing her trip, she had told them she would be traveling with Puk, which caused a great deal of confusion. Ultimately it had given her mother some small comfort, knowing her daughter’s companion was an Atluan who had made the journey before, despite her previous reservations about him.

  It was her father’s turn to be serious. He looked her in the eye and said, “Remember that you can always come back here when you need to.” His eyes implied if you can’t make it to Atlua, just come back.

  She hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  If she blew all of her money and didn’t end up in Atlua, then her dreams would be well and truly dead.

  “I know, Dad,” she smiled, pushing the thought of failure from her mind. Dwelling on it would be of no help.

  They spoke for a few minutes more about the route she was taking (the Ribroad, of course); which Atluan town she’d sail to (whichever had the cheapest tickets in Restick, of course); and if she needed any extra money (she could handle herself, of course). Soon, her parents needed to get back to work, and it was time for Kali to meet Puk downstairs.

  Her heart swelled with one last hug from her parents. She had already been planning on living away from them, on spending most of her days traveling, but only now was the reality of it setting in. She was going to miss them.

  “Thank you,” she told them. She hoped they knew the two words encompassed a lifetime of gratitude, for everything they’d done. Every kindness they’d granted her. Every bit of aid, every opportunity. For her room just a few feet away that she knew would always be waiting for her when she came back, the key tucked away safely in her bag.

  Botro and Knyla each planted a kiss on her cheeks and told Kali they loved her and would miss her.

  “I’ll be back before you know it,” she promised them. “You won’t even have time to miss me. Not too much, anyway.” She grinned.

  They then returned to the drudgery of ordering ingredients, and she grabbed her knapsack from her bedroom and locked the door behind her.

  Downstairs, Puk leaned against a wall waiting for her. He was wearing his new, clean boots, which provided him with an extra half-inch or so. His backpack, which was sized to strap to the back of a short qarmish body, looked positively stuffed after their morning shopping trip.

  “How’d you fit everything in there?” she asked, pointing at the stained bag. It was obvious the bag had seen many adventures.

  “With great effort and trouble,” was his reply. “I almost ate one of the apples just so I wouldn’t have to pack it, but then I managed to squeeze it in somehow. Though I might’ve crushed an orange in the process. We shall see if it soaks through the bottom and leaves a trail of juice behind us. It’ll be fun.”

  “You know citrus attracts sandmites, right?” she asked, her voice low, grave.

  Puk’s stalks perked up in alarm. “For real?” he whispered.

  He set his backpack down and was about to unclasp it to see if his joke was actually a joke or not when Kali chuckled.

  “I’m kidding,” she said.

  “Oh,” Puk said, relieved. He heaved the pack onto his back again, straining with the weight of it. “I’ve never heard of sandmites before, but you had me worried.”

  “Sandmites are real,” she said, “but they aren’t attracted to citrus. Not as far as I’m aware, anyway.”

  That hint of uncertainty appeared to disquiet Puk, which amused Kali.

  Seeing him pull the bag up onto his back, though, did concern her. Puk was a small man, and weighing himself down with a heavy backpack would make for a deeply unpleasant journey, not only for himself but for her as well. If he was struggling with every tiny step, it could easily double their days out in the desert.

  “Here, let me take some of that,” she said, removing the backpack and opening it up.

  Lucky for Puk, he had not obliterated an orange with his absurd packing method, but the backpack’s innards were still a horrific sight to behold. Clothes were wadded up and smushed down as far as possible, with his dirty sandals placed on top to further flatten the fabrics, imparting plenty of stains in the process. The fresh fruit was stuffed into whatever available crevices the bag contained, and Kali could already see several bruises on one of the apples. Not to mention all the pouches and other extraneous items he’d already owned and needed to make room for. It was the worst rush job she’d ever laid eyes on.

  Puk leaned a solitary stalk over the backpack, peering at its contents. It then curved upward to look at her. “Yeah, I know,” he said, addressing the horrified scowl on her face.

  “This is insane,” she said.

  “I already said I know!”

  She started unpacking the bag in the middle of the lobby floor, tossing aside light pouches she knew were filled with dried fruit and unsalted nuts, though there were a couple more than she remembered buying earlier.

  Puk noticed her eyeing the pouches and blurted out, “Oh! I bought some more stuff. For the thing, I mean. The trip. I bought some smelly bait to attract a cordol.”

  “Smelly bait?”

  “Yes. And trust me, it stinks worse than shit, so, uh…don’t open those two pouches.” He pointed at two in particular, and she nodded her understanding.

  Kali re-packed the qarm’s bag for him, carefully choosing which items would be okay traveling with her instead. She decided he should keep his pouches of snacks, so that he could eat them whenever he needed to without asking her, but she thought it’d be alright if she carried the bait.

  This garnered fervent protests from Puk, who insisted he carry the bait—“Trust me, it smells horrible and is gonna make all my stuff smell horrible too, you don’t want that”—and so she found room for his sandals and some of his clothes instead, as well as a few other personal items he wouldn’t need at-hand on the road.

  With his pack lightened and neatly organized, Puk had less trouble hiking it up onto his back and profusely thanked her. Even with his few belongings loaded into her own bag, her load was relatively light.

  The last thing they did before leaving the inn was filling up their respective waterskins in the kitchen.

  Outside, they made their way to the northern district of the city where the Spine Gate was located. They were able to get their errands completed in a timely fashion, and therefore Kali knew they’d be able to reach the first outpost along the Ribroad long before sundown. It would be the next day, halfway to the second outpost, when they would veer off the designated path into the open desert to seek out the cordols. She typically left the city from its other gate, traveling that open pathway east toward the mountains, but she was familiar enough with the Ribroad and northern geography to feel confident in their travels.

  They were only just passing through the Spine Gate and exiting the city when Puk said, “Would it be bad to admit I’m already sick of walking?”

  “Yes,” she laughed. “I’m gonna pretend that’s a joke.”

  “Probably a wise choice for most complaints I’ll inevitably make.”

  The bones of the Ribroad towered high above them, and Kali could feel the heat of the sun bearing down even through the tarp stretched across the curved white bones. A few minutes into their journey, beads of swea
t were already rolling down Puk’s forehead.

  The Ribroad served as the primary route connecting Seroo’s Eye with Restick on the country’s coast. It was wide enough to allow wagons, ayote riders, and those like Kali and Puk who unfortunately had to travel on foot. Construction was underway in the north to connect the two cities with a railway, allowing travelers to ride a steam-powered locomotive with engines similar to those used in airships, though the rails currently only spanned half the distance. Originally the plan had been to convert the Ribroad itself into the railway, but that was quickly abandoned in favor of giving those who couldn’t afford a train ticket the option of still traveling underneath the road’s shade. Instead, the railway was being built adjacent to the Ribroad, curving along the same trajectory. In Kali’s opinion, the rails should have been built decades ago, but it took a long time to get construction started in the desert.

  “I’ve never gone down the Ribroad,” Puk said, his eyestalks curved backward to gaze upon the bones and leather high above. “It’s pretty spectacular.”

  “It is,” Kali agreed.

  Growing up in Seroo’s Eye, she often caught herself taking for granted how unique and magnificent the city she lived in was, with all of its adobe buildings clustered inside the skull of an extraordinarily massive beast. Every once in a while, she took a step back and looked at it from an outsider’s perspective. Trying not to let the gigantic bones bursting from the earth seem like an everyday occurrence.

 

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