39 – Revelations

Jasper, naturally, caught the first greateagle out of Siroc he could find. The dragon in disguise had the right of it; only suckers hung around to speak with the authorities.

He didn’t have any teleportation spells to get away, but nobody was willing to chase down the orichalcum-rank ‘excusing himself’ from a situation. Besides, that Caldimore worm could make himself useful and deal with the logistics. What else were nobility good for?

The greateagle took him to Tilden, and he caught a conveniently-timed Convoy to Meridian with only one interrupting stop, which meant he’d be there by next morning. He didn’t buy a Lounge ticket, not now that he had escaped the nightmarish deep north. He had coin to spare, but not so much he would throw it away.

The next twenty hours he spent making a nuisance of himself in a range from tipsy to drunk, excusing the binge on how Mae had sent him out during the Peace Day Festival of all things. He was due celebration during the dull ride back.

Especially since he couldn’t indulge around her. For an alchemist, she sure had strong opinions on substances and how they were used. Or maybe because of that. He supposed it made sense, in retrospect.

After sipping on a health potion to clear the remnants of a hangover, sniffing his shirt and finding the smell acceptable enough, he stepped out into the faint gray light of pre-dawn, stretching his arms wide and gazing around at Meridian’s busy Convoy Station.

“Wonder if she beat me back,” he mused.

The Iron Vipers had their own sort-of guildhall, which was more an alchemy lab in the crafting district with living spaces thrown in as an afterthought. The place belonged to Mae, but she let her teammates stay there when they wanted.

Swinging the door open, he yelled out in announcement, “I’m home, sweetheart!”

“In here,” Mae called from, unsurprisingly, the lab. “And don’t call me that, you idiot.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if she hadn’t slept yet. She’d gotten back much earlier than him, though, if she’d had time to start experimenting.

He walked up and leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms and studying the elf. She wore thick protective clothing, gloves, and eyewear, and held two glass vials, pouring one into another with a steady hand.

“You’ve been drinking,” she said, not glancing over.

He paused. There shouldn’t have been any giveaways, but he hesitated to lie outright.

“Informed guess,” she said, stealing a look out of the corner of her eye. “You really shouldn’t. Your brain barely functions when sober. Don’t inflict yourself on the world when you’re drunk. To say nothing of how bad it is for you.”

“Eh, that’s what health potions are for.”

“Health potions aren’t a panacea, and you know that. Not even at our level. They don’t prevent the long-term organ deterioration associated with substance abuse. They don’t even fix immediate trauma with complete consistency.”

His shoulder still twinged from a hunting incident a few years back, so he knew that well enough. He was considering sneaking a sip of that potion the dragon had given him to be rid of it.

“And it’s a compounding issue,” Mae said. “Especially important for the long-lived. Humans can get away with abusing their bodies because they’re here and gone. Live more than a few centuries and habits catch up. Your health matters. Take it seriously.”

They both quieted at that. For good reason. It was a major source of tension between them.

It was reasonable, Jasper knew, for an elf to refuse to romantically involve herself with a human by the simple matter of mismatching longevity. That didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating when he knew they both wanted it. She had literally admitted as much. But Mae had a stubborn streak to rival a mule, and she didn’t do ‘flings’. Early on, she’d told him that she would only consider it if he reached Titled, so that if they became serious, she wouldn’t ‘blink and lose him’. She was probably speaking from experience, so, again, he couldn’t blame her.

There were easier ways to get laid than earning a Title, but it turned out he was equally stubborn. And, to his utter mortification, helpless when it came to this woman. She’d turned him into a damn celibate. Dad would disown him if he found out.

“Welcome back though,” she said. “I expected you to take longer. You have it?”

“I do.” He pulled the item out—the one that had sent him to the far reaches of the Northern Kingdom to begin with.

The [Arctic Essence Gland].

Mae took it, peeked into the wrapping paper, then tucked it into her inventory. She had skills that prevented the spoiling of alchemical reagents.

“Excellent. How many did it take?”

“I killed five.”

“Five?” Her eyebrows shot up. “Lucky you. It’s a rare drop. It should have taken dozens.”

He snorted. “Nah, I bought it. Came back to town after the first trip and one of the consortiums had gotten its hands on some. Multiple. Apparently there was a big influx of parts. Someone went out and slaughtered a damn battalion of those things.”

Mae paused. “That doesn’t make sense. The environment…the scarcity…the Hoarfrost Plains are over the Granite Spines, they’re incredibly difficult to get to. And even for level eight hundred, Frostmaw Titans are ridiculously durable. They’re terrible hunting targets, both for experience and coin.”

“I’m aware,” Jasper said dryly. “I suffered three days of that frozen hell.” And in that time only found five of those beasts. He’d have killed for a tracking skill. “Thought I’d have to go out again, a full week or more, but thankfully, that wasn’t the case.”

“But who?” Mae asked, her brow furrowing. “The Hoarfrost Plains are awful hunting grounds, and hardly a place a stray Titled might pass through when coming from another city. That’s why I couldn’t get my hands on any to begin with. The entire market has been dry for decades.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Jasper rolled his eyes. Mae was obsessed with answers. She had that sort of mind that refused to see something strange and accept it. “Some Titled from Prismarche, or immortal, visiting for the festival,” he said, “flew over and—”

His teeth clicked shut.

Wait. A passing-through immortal? Cleaning up a bunch of Frostmaw Titans simply because they’d been nearby, and for that level of power, the downsides Mae had mentioned weren’t a big deal?

He started laughing.

“Oh, fuck me. There’s no way. Right?”

“What? What is it?”

“I’m in her debt twice over.”

“Her?”

He shook his head in amusement. “Probably a coincidence.” He wasn’t sure though. “Either way, thank the gods I didn’t have to hunt those bastards myself. You owe me a huge favor. Nearly froze my balls off.”

“The potions I make go to the team, not just me, so that’s your reward.” She eyed him, inordinately caught up on a minor detail. “Her? What ‘her’? Who are you talking about?”

He waved a hand. “Nothing. Just a dragon I met.”

Mae paused, her burgeoning jealousy morphing to interest. And it had been jealousy. Her interest in him but refusal to act on it was the whole damn problem. He could have moved on if she wasn’t always giving off obvious, if accidental, hints.

“A dragon,” she said. “Outside the Sky-Pillar Range?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you certain? She’ll be executed for that. And she just told you she was one? Or transformed?”

“Of course not.”

Mae’s curious if disbelieving expression flattened. “It wasn’t a dragon, then. Ugh. I don’t know why I believed you.”

“It totally was. I’d bet my boots on it.”

She squinted. “Why?”

“Had to have been there. Just acted…dragony. Had horns too. Well, that’s because she was shifted as a demon, but it didn’t help the impression.” A pause. “Also, she was throwing around tier-fourteen magic like [Magic Missiles].”

That brought Mae’s curiosity back. “You’re exaggerating.”

“For once, no. Might’ve been higher. Heavens, Mae, I don’t even know how to describe it. Disintegrated a level twelve hundred just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Then she picked up the Convoy.”

“What?”

“Half of it, anyway.”

“Jasper! Start from the beginning.”

“So, the Convoy derailed, and then she picked it up.”