Arcanum - Of Steamwork and Magic Ch. 14

I rubbed at my face. "Let's get some baths."

"And some more ammo," Sally said, her good cheer not dampened in the least.

"And some more ammo," I said, nodding.

"And fresh food," 'Magnus' rumbled.

"And some fresh food," I said, sighing. "And then we go to the Zoological Society and we get this tomfoolery done with." I turned back and glared at Sally. Or, more accurately, I glared at the trap that she had set on the top of her backpack. The rabbit within was looking around at Tarant with big, shiny black eyes. It made a soft chuff noise. Well. At least the rabbit was impressed.

The rabbit remained impressed as I set it down on the paper cluttered desk of one Dr. Tristran Fenwick. The round bellied, red cheeked halfling looked faintly bemused as he eyed the trap. "Did you paint this rabbit, Dr. Cog?" he asked.

A slow, pulsating beat started behind one of my temples as I said: "No, Dr. Fenwick."

"I thought you told my receptionist that you wished to speak about a new species of giant," Dr. Fenwick said, standing up so that he could peer around the cage at me.

"This is the giant," I said, pointing at the cage.

"The rabbit?" Dr. Fenwick asked, his brow furrowing.

"Yes," I said, my teeth clenched.

"The rabbit is the giant?" Dr. Fenwick asked.

"Yes!" I said, slamming my palms into the desk.

"What kind of giant looks like a rabbit?!" Dr. Fenwick asked.

"It transforms into the rabbit using magick!" I said. "Dr. Hippington said-"

"Dr. Hi..." Dr. Fenwick gaped at me. "Dr. Cog, are you telling me that this is another damnfool attempt by that discredited, half-insane crackpot to get his damned foolish storybook myth into the Zoological Society's papers!?" He asked.

I slowly sat down on the chair across from the desk. I sagged back. "Yes," I said.

"Well, I'm sorry, but you can't just waltz in here with a rabbit you painted blue and get awards and accolades from the Zoological Society! You may be an exceptional gunsmith and your paper on electrodynamics acceleration was groundbreaking but, sir, this is an office of science, not of quackery!" My fingers slowly pressed to my temples and I began to work them in slow circles.

"I. Don't. Care. I just need the pelt of the Stillwater Giant," I said, my voice grim.

"If you want that, you might want to check somewhere that's less rigorous," Dr. Fenwick said. "Might I suggest H.T Parnell's?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

My forehead made an alarmingly loud bonk as it struck the edge of the desk.

***

"You need more money?" Mr. Bates asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. I stood at the window of his smoking room, holding a much needed glass of bourbon that Mr. Bates' massive half-ogre bodyguard had prepared for me. I knocked the bourbon back and enjoyed the warm glow in my belly for a bit.

"Well, Mr. Bates," I said, cheerfully. "My investigations have already born a great deal of fruit, have they not? We know that the Black Mountain Clan has been kidnapped by elves. But elves are difficult to reach in the best of times and the best of situations - but this far from both. So..." I grinned. "I wouldn't think that a man of your means would find a mere two thousand crowns to be too hard to cover."

Mr. Bates inclined his head. "You raise a good point. And the funds are a paltry amount to find the source of this mystery." He snapped his fingers. "Chukka!"

His massive bodyguard brought him his checkbook.

"Of course I can't sell my finest, most hard won exhibit!" H.T Parnell spluttered. "Three men died to slay and skin that-" I waved the check under his nose, silencing his speech as we stood before the large glass container that contained the "pelt" of the "Stillwater Giant" that was on display in his woefully absurd Museum of the Wondrous. H.T Parnell took the check. He read the number upon it. He blinked several times. Then he coughed. "I mean, of course! And tell Mr. Bates that I hope he enjoys his new product! Though, uh, be sure to not handle it roughly. The..." He paused. "The stitching is a mite fragile." He winked at me.

I took great pleasure cramming the stitched together bear pelts and antlers into Sally's backpack.

"Are you sure this will work?" Virginia asked, nervously as we headed across the bridge and back towards the wilderness at the edge of Tarant.

"Absolutely," I said, my voice flat and promising a great deal of pain to anyone who disagreed.

Warm and balmy July had finally ceded way to the scorching heats and thick mugginess of August, and heading north towards the edge of the Gray Mountains did little to take the edge off. We marched along with a grim, dogged persistence, stopping only to set down the cage, open it, and march away without glancing back as the rabbit emerged from the cage. On the 8^th, we arrived at Stillwater, tired and bedraggled...but ready.

I walked up to Mryth's door and hammered on it as hard as I could, the frame actually shaking with the impact of my green fist. The door opened and I saw the slender elf was dressed in a green doublet that looked roughly three centuries out of fashion, with a gemstone collar necklace and golden buttons along his chest. He wore hose and thick boots, and he looked shocked to see my face again. He looked even more shocked as I jammed the "pelt" into his hands. Mryth looked quite gratifyingly shocked.

"W...What is this?" he asked.

"The pelt. You asked for it. I delivered it," I said, grinning slowly at him. I had to admit, marching to and from Tarant, getting attacked by bears and hounded by kites, eating hard tack and sleeping on hard ground...all of it was suddenly worth it, seeing the expression on Mryth's face as he slowly unfurled the pelt. He looked at the mass of matted fur and then looked at me.

"No. Seriously. Where did you get this?"

"By killing and skinning the Stillwater Giant," I said.

Mryth...believed me. His eyes widened and he gaped at me.

I let the moment hang. But I knew it could not last - if he took a second glance, or let his hands wander, he would notice that the "pelt" was stitched together with obvious false seams. And so, only after his gape had served as a balm to my soul did I finally say: "No, I'm just pulling your leg. I bought it from H.T Parnell's."

Mryth blinked. And then he burst out laughing. He threw his head back, dropping the pelt onto the ground and then clutching at his belly. He laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed, and then collapsed against the wall. Tears streaked down his cheeks and then he wiped his eyes clear, sighing. "Ah, you've been a sport! Here, give me your map." He said, and I pulled the Atlas of Arcanum from my pack. He took it, scribbled on it, then handed it back. "This is the route to Quintarra, my old chum."

I punched him in the jaw.

TO BE CONTINUED