The identity of the next few shops we passed weren’t quite as obvious. One had a sign shaped like a shoe, but the rest were very non-descript. Generic craft and supply shops I assumed. But as we approached the center of town, there were a couple of buildings I easily recognized. As one might expect at a crossroads, the major activity was at the intersection. The two most impressive buildings here were the Inns on the corners. They were each large three-story structures, easily big enough to have a couple dozen small rooms upstairs. On the ground floor of both businesses were well-lit taverns, the further one clearly being the more rowdy.
While similar in overall size, the two Inns were almost polar opposites. The one closest to us bore a finely crafted wooden sign that read “Rock Bridge Inn” in very fancy script. It was clearly the more upscale establishment. Everything from the wooden porch wrapping around the front to the shutters on the windows screamed high quality. They were definitely the Ritz Carleton of this town. Personally, I thought they should lose points for such an uncreative name. By comparison, the other Inn clearly understood where it was located. It was a very worn looking wood and stone building, as if the years had properly broken it in. Sitting atop the door was a simple sign written in big block letters. “The One Eyed Troll” had the kind of name one expects to find in any respectable fantasy town. I thought that alone made it the clear winner in this Inn battle.
As we stood there two fellas, human-ish, stumbled out of the Rock Bridge Inn and barely made it down the steps without falling. We couldn’t quite make out everything the muffled voice inside was yelling, but it seemed they exceeding their intoxication limit for the Rock Bridge Inn. But they were not the least bit swayed in their evening activities. They simply staggered across the street and heading right into the Troll. There was a loud cheer from the crowd as they entered and joined in on the revelry. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but the fun atmosphere alone made it clear where I was voting we stay. On the other, other side of the street, the top of the T intersection, stood two other buildings of note. Although to be honest, I thought they made kind of strange neighbors.
The first was the town brothel. The two-story structure itself wasn’t really an indicator, but the young ladies on the front porch kind of gave it away. They were each beckoning us over in their own way. The first was a fairly young looking goblin, short, green and really working her dress. I had to admit, it made me a little curious. Don’t pretend you’re shocked, you know my middle name. And admit it, you thought about it too. The other was human and she appeared to be a bit older. She had pale skin and dark hair. I’d guess she was in her early forties. But the complimentary fit of her dress made it clear she was in phenomenal shape. While she didn’t express the enthusiasm of her younger companion, the subtle beckoning of her eyes showed a woman with a great deal of experience. But, as the gentleman in me gave both of them polite smiles, the part of me who didn’t want to upset the assassin ex girlfriend at my side, decided not to let my gaze linger too long. So, I quickly switched my attention to the second building worth mentioning.
It was a simple single story structure, built from a combination of wood, metal, and heavy stone. Thick steel bars covered all of the windows and it had a large iron banded front door. This was definitely a structure built to withstand an attack. Almost in contradiction to its fortification feel, the building had a very nice wooden porch running the length of its front. There were two giant rocking chairs sitting on the porch, one of which was occupied. The large jaw and oversized lower canines made it fairly clear she was an ogre. A giant grey cowboy hat sat on her head, with her long black hair tied off in back. She wore a brown vest over a black button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal very large green forearms. Brown chaps over black pants ran down to her large boots. She had her legs crossed and resting on a stool, which made it easy to see the shiny spurs on the back of her boots. Just in case the outfit wasn’t obvious enough, she wore a small star shaped copper badge on her vest. As she slowly rocked back and forth the almost eerie creaking of the rocking chair could be heard over the roar of the taverns. This was not a small ogre.
This impressively large woman was definitely the town sheriff. A strong hand reached up to tip the brim of her hat as her eyes met ours. She had perfected that cop glare. You know, the one coming across as a friendly greeting but you know you’re really being looked over by a well-trained eye. Being not guilty of anything in particular, we all just nodded back and smiled in greeting. Freddy always looked friendly and Vix and I were well versed in the skill of looking plain and blending in. But it’s possible I was out of practice, because the ogre decided we were worth talking to and spoke up.
“Help you folks find something?” she asked.
The voice was deep, raspy, and ogre like, but sadly lacking any kind of southern accent one might expect from that outfit. This was actually my second encounter with an ogre, as my last Veil trip brought me face to face with one. Although to be honest, he wasn’t nearly as large as the sheriff here. It suddenly made me wonder if ogre females grew larger than the males or if this particular lady was just genetically gifted. I made a mental note to ask Freddy about it later, which seemed vastly safer than asking the sheriff. Even sitting in the rocker, I could tell she was over ten-feet tall and very thick in muscle. This was not the kind of lady you kept waiting. But as I was about to answer, Freddy beat me to it.
“We are seeking accommodations for the evening. Could we perhaps trouble you for a recommendation?” Freddy asked.
“The Inn is quieter and has nicer rooms, but most people prefer the food at the Troll,” she replied.
“Thank you very much,” Freddy smiled.
As we started to turn, she spoke up again, “Fanny’s Flair opens in the morning, if you’re in the market for some clothes.”
I thought it was an odd thing to say until I remembered I was standing there wrapped in bandages with no shirt to speak of. It was almost funny how quickly I’d forgotten what I was wearing. Maybe that was why we got a few funny looks as we entered town.
“Also,” she continued, “we have a town healer if you need anything looked over. She’s very good.”
“That is wonderful. Thank you so much. Where might we locate this healer?” Freddy asked.
“Third store down on the right,” the Sheriff pointed, “Magic Myrtle’s. She’s always up late, just knock on the door.”
“That is very much appreciated, thank you,” Freddy smiled.
“Always here to help,” the Sheriff nodded.
We all smiled thanks and then without even asking me, Freddy started leading us towards the magic shop. Once we were far enough away that I didn’t think anyone would overhear us I spoke up.
“Um, are we sure we wanna trust a strange magic user to look me over?”
“Of course. The success of the mission will in all likelihood depend on your physical condition. It would be best if we knew how badly you were injured. Plus, we have no reason to distrust this healer. Witches in the Veil make a living on reputation. If she did not excel at her craft, it is doubtful she would still remain in business in a thriving town like this.”
“Fairly logical,” Vix added.
“Let’s hope you’re right.”
Freddy nodded in a way that made it clear he thought I was being absurd. I guess if I trusted him to be our expert guide, I should trust him on this. I just didn’t love the idea of being mana blasted by someone I didn’t know. Kara was part of our team and had been through it with us. There’s a certain trust there. This was far out of the realm of my comfort zone.
The shop wasn’t much to look at, but it was fairly easy to find. The sign hanging over the door showed a snake wrapped around a wooden staff. It looked a little ominous but when I said that to Freddy he looked at me baffled.
“That is the Rod of Asclepius, a traditional Greek symbol of medicine and healing,” he stated.
“Shouldn’t it have wings and a second snake?”
“You are
thinking of the caduceus, often associated with Hermes staff. While that symbol has become prevalent in some modern medical fields, it is not actually a traditional symbol of healing. Hermes was a messenger god and the caduceus is most often associated with commerce. The caduceus is frequently confused with the Rod of Asclepius,” Freddy stated.
“Okay. So, that’s a good snake and stick and I’m about to get better?”
“Correct,” he smirked.
I just shook my head. Part of me wanted to thank Freddy. It was fairly obvious he’d love to tell me much more about the Rod of Asclepius. Freddy keeping his explanation to a few sentences was definitely as close as he got to being concise. He must still be worried about my injuries.
The front of the shop was a simple, solid wooden door and a small window. Peering through the window we found it was mostly dark inside but we could make out the hints of a flickering light through a doorway in the back. As instructed by the sheriff, Freddy knocked proudly. After a bit we heard shuffling and slowly the flickering light grew brighter. I can’t explain why, but we couldn’t get a good look at Myrtle through the window. She appeared a small shadow of a lady, a hooded cloak keeping her locked in darkness. But finally that shadow got to the door and opened it up.
“Greetings weary travelers. How may Myrtle be of service today?” her creaky voice asked.
Myrtle appeared very old by normal standards, but there was something more to it. Almost as if she gave off an aura making it clear she was much, much older than we imagined. She appeared human, although a feeling in my gut made me doubt that. She had a very dark complexion that contrasted nicely with her bright blue eyes. A dark cloak covered everything but her face and boney hands. She held a small lantern in her right and a gnarly walking stick in her left. She looked very frail and wrinkled. From a purely physical appearance, I might have guessed she was in her seventies. But once you looked into those large blue eyes, there was an overwhelming depth making her seem centuries older. Oddly, it wasn’t a spooky sensation. I should have been weirded out, but it was actually quite calming. Almost like we were visiting someone’s kindly old grandmother. As I stood there sizing the witch up, Freddy took point.
“Greetings Myrtle, my name is Froedrick and we apologize for disturbing you at this late hour. We were informed by the sheriff that you might still be awake and available for hire.”
“Yes, yes. Myrtle is always on the clock,” she cackled.
Even the weird witchy laugh wasn’t enough to break the grandmotherly vibe. Honestly I was starting to feel hopeful I might get some milk and cookies. Which would be awesome because everybody loves cookies.
“Fantastic,” Freddy continued, “this is my friend Bruce and we would ask that you look him over. He has been badly burned.”
“I see that,” she stated, “please come in.”
Myrtle started shuffling back inside and we followed. I gently grabbed Vix’s arm and held her back a bit. Then I removed Vlad’s bracer from my left arm and handed it to her. Since it was dragon skin, it hadn’t been damaged at all by the fire. But it still seemed to stick to my skin a bit, which was odd. That had never happened before. I didn’t want to think about my skin melting and sticking to it, so I just handed it off and figured I’d worry about that later.
“Keep this safe for me.”
She didn’t really seem to understand, but she took the bracer and placed it in her pack. I squeezed her arm as a thank you and gave a face that said I’d explain later. I wasn’t sure if there was anything to be worried about. But Vlad was injured and his connection had been very weak since the warehouse. Vector told me he needed to rest. The last thing I was going to chance was some stranger’s magic screwing up his link to my bracer. Or Myrtle deciding she always wanted a dragon of her very own and knocking us all out with magic and stealing it. Sure, that sounded crazy in my head too. But I was injured and honestly not the biggest fan of magic, so you’ll have to forgive me.
Myrtle took us into the back room and laid her lamp down on a small desk. She paused, murmured for a moment and various candles all around the room sprung to life. While I wasn’t happy with someone spontaneously casting a spell right next to me, I enjoyed being in the well-lit room. The room was bright enough to see everything without being harsh on the eyes. I took the opportunity to take everything in.
There was a large wooden examination table in the middle of the twenty by twenty foot room. The table was oversized and just big enough that I figured even the sheriff might be able to lie down upon it. The room was covered in various weird artifacts. Small animal skulls, strings of beads, feathers, and other quirky odds and ends seemed to be hung randomly all over the walls. There were a handful of chairs scattered about, each one apparently made by a different craftsman. Myrtle gestured for Freddy and Vix to take a seat. She showed me to the table and I carefully plopped down onto it. It was then as I stopped moving that I realized how badly my body was injured. I was in rough shape.
Slowly and methodically she removed all of my bandages and examined my wounds. Her hands were very cold to the touch and a stark contrast to the warmth of my burnt skin. She traced her fingers over the burnt wrinkles in my skin and even lingered a bit over the pain in my lower back. After a few minutes of looking, touching, and eventually even smelling my wounds, she nodded to herself and walked over to her little table to examine some papers.
The silence was just long enough that I started looking over towards Vix and Freddy with a “what’s going on” expression on my face. Vix shrugged and Freddy looked at me like I was a kid doing something wrong. Myrtle finally mumbled to herself a few more times and turned around to speak to me.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, your injuries are quite severe. The burns and that back,” she said, waving a finger and giving me a tsk tsk sound. “I can tell that your body heals quicker than most. Even so, I believe it will be many days before you feel back to your old self. I can greatly speed up this process for say, three hundred?”
“That is an acceptable price,” Freddy said before I could speak up.
I actually expected Freddy to haggle, but apparently not when it came to magical health care. Or maybe he just knew the going rates and we were getting a good deal. But without hesitation, Freddy reached into his pack and produced some weird looking currency. I didn’t recognize it, but Myrtle seemed all too happy to accept it. I hadn’t thought about money in the Veil. We’d used all of our gold at J Street and I didn’t think to get anymore. But I guess Freddy had planned on us staying the night at an Inn and eating, so he’d come prepared. I made a note to pay him back whatever the equivalent was once we got back to the real world.
Myrtle’s hands showed surprising strength as she helped me lay down flat on the table. Then she used those cold hands to rub some type of lavender smelling ointment over my wounds. Even gently rolling me onto my side to get my back. Her hands were very practiced and precise and much stronger than they appeared. Even with her impressive strength, she managed to cover all of my wounds without pressing too hard or causing me too much pain. Once she was satisfied with her work she laid the bottle of ointment down on her table and grabbed a mug laying there. She took a long drink and although I worried she was going to spit it on me, she just swallowed it down. I hoped it wasn’t an alcoholic beverage because I didn’t want to find out what happened when you drunk cast spells.
From that point, the process took on a more familiar tone. As I’ve now seen Kara do several times at GHOST HQ, Myrtle took a position with her hands above me and started to chant and sway. Her focus was absolute and after some time her hands began to glow with a white light. I started to look away, but it was a soft light and amazingly easy on the eyes. Once she seemed happy with the glow, she started to sway back and forth.
At first nothing changed, but then the ointment on my wounds started to glow the same color as her hands. It felt cold against my skin, almost to the point of pain. She closed her eyes and murmured louder. I could feel the light
, surging through my whole body. The sensation was very similar to Kara’s healings, although much more intense. The ointment was also odd and something new. There was almost a surging through my body, a pulsing with the force of the magic. I don’t know how long it lasted but it felt like a significant period of time. When she was done, she slowed her sways and chants and the glow subsided.
I could see that my skin was still fairly red, but most of the burnt tissue was gone. Even more impressive than the look of my skin was how my injuries felt. The difference between when I came in here and now was night and day. Especially my back, which I was finally ready to admit was even worse than I feared. I wasn’t quite back to my normal self, but I could definitely see it from here. This was a far cry from my crispy state. After a good nights rest, I was betting I’d be just about back to my full badass ninja self. But, as much as I’d love to hit the sack, there was another priority, my stomach. In a very similar fashion to how I feel when my body is healing itself, I was famished. My tummy grumbled to let me know I needed lots of food.
Myrtle nodded and smiled over me as if she was satisfied with the job. I hopped up and felt pretty good. I flexed my left elbow with very little discomfort at all. It was practically fully functional again. Vix handed me a fresh shirt from my pack and I managed to shrug it on. My muscles were very stiff, but I’ll take that over pain any day. From the way I was feeling, it was very clear Myrtle excelled at her craft.
G.H.O.S.T. Teams (Book 3) Spirits Page 16
