Chapter 83

He Has No Choice If…

Hiccup

Laurel and I met in the privacy of my study. She’d been sitting on the edge of her seat for the past two hours, talking empathically while wringing her hands. During her lengthy apology, the sun had moved from early morning to late morning.

“…so please,” she said. “I hope you understand. I should have been more careful with my research.”

“You’re gold rank,” I said. “You fell prey to the manipulations of a diamond rank Brewer. I don’t begrudge you what’s out of your power.”

“I hope you will be willing to work with me as the Alik family liaison and representative.”

At that moment, a precise knock sounded behind the study door. Riggvelte promptly strolled in. “Madam Yak has arrived in the gardens,” he declared. “Corylus is with her. They’re making their way to your study.”

“Please excuse me, Ms. Aiou,” I said. “I have urgent matters to attend to with Abigail.”

Laurel hadn’t yet acquired my forgiveness. That must have been why she winced. She lingered for a moment, tilting her head as though debating whether to say something or not.

She smoothed the fabric of her dress, then stood. “Very well.”

I nodded. She turned to leave and stiffly crossed the study.

When she’d just reached the door, I said, “Ms. Aiou, I will never forgive you for that cruelty; however, I will be frank with you and give you the same respect I’ve given Evon—but that’s it. Even though I’m willing to lose ties with the Alik family over this, I am also willing to work with you. But in the future, please come directly to me if you want to know anything about me. I won’t tolerate another slight.”

She paled, smiled small, and ducked her head as she left.

I leaned back in my chair and massaged my temples. I breathed deeply and groaned from mental exhaustion. Or was it pain?

I woke every morning to the reality that Ashlee was gone. There were more people in my mansion than I believe I’d ever roomed, but it was still empty. Ms. Aiou had managed to prove that scars are no armor. The pain I felt…

How does one person have enough blood to bleed for years like this? No wonder the heart can hurt so much. It always bleeds.

“Master Hiccough,” Riggvelte said gently.

I stopped massaging, and cleared my vision. I must have been seeing so deeply that the world was blurry to me for a moment.

Corylus and Abigail had just arrived at the threshold to the study. They spoke in low voices and hugged. Corylus left. Abigail entered. She was a smiling beam of light.

“My dear friend,” she said. She took the seat across from me.

“How glad I am to see you,” I returned with true enthusiasm.

“You’ve got a full house!”

“Much occurs.”

“Corylus and I passed by a woman in tears. Is everything the matter?”

“I am a flawed man, but some things I will not tolerate.”

“What happened?” she said.

“I’m not ready to discuss it.”

“It must have been severe.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I said. “I’ve been swamped with meetings. A surge of Alchemists and Brewers have flooded my estate. All with the same questions.

“Hawkin’s beers.”

“The nightream dreambon has appeared in the Brewer’s Guide to Magic Ingredients.”

“Ah, yes,” she said.”

“Tell me everything.”

Abigail shared a beer that had the texture of fine sand, but the taste of an aged orange in spiced syrup. Throughout our conversation we stood to stretch a few times, shared another beer, and debated what dreambon attribute beers could do.

“...Thrush can now access any corner of the world in the blink of an eye,” I said.

“Logistics first,” Abigail said. “One of those dreambon beers has to get to a corner of the world in the first place.”

“You’ve mentioned Thrush has a limitless inventory.”

“It’s not limitless,” she said. “He gets the same weight capacity warnings we all do. It’s just that his body withstands the weight. I swear he could put a mountain in his pocket.”

“This means that Thrush can deliver all of Hawkin’s beers to me by taking two steps through this dreambon beer portal.”

“Technically, yes,” she said. “You’d have to have a dreambon beer.”

“That’s what I want. How much for a vat?”

Abigail chuckled. “We haven’t even talked to Thrush about it yet.”

“Of course, of course. Speaking of Thrush. I found her.”

“What do you mean? Who?”

“Eileen,” I said.

“You found her! Hiccup, that’s incredible! That’s exactly why they stopped in Omes Arbor!”

“I haven’t spoken with her yet, but I’m hoping I can employ her. That’s how I hope to establish a strong connection with Thrush.”

“I’m sure Thrush would be pleased with that,” she said. “You’ll be meeting him in a month’s time or so.”

“How are Hawkin’s ethereal beers coming along? Any new dungeons?”

“No new dungeons just yet, but he does clone-brew the first two on a daily basis. He’s also been focusing on another plane.”

“How many does he have?” I said.

“Four, including the dungeons.”

“Do you think he’d be willing to sell ethereal ingredients? Or dreambons?”

“He hasn’t even invited me to use any of his ingredients. He hasn’t even invited me onto one of his planes.”

“I thought he liked you.”

“He’s taking his time with things,” she said, “and I’m in no rush.”

“Don’t be upset if I bring up these topics repetitively. I want those ingredients. I want those dreambons.”

“I know you. I understand where you’re coming from. Your quest path career is important to you.”

“Ashlee wanted me to strive for the stars,” I said. “And my reputation has been increasing substantially these past few months; after years of stagnation!”

“Mine too, believe it or not. I’ve seen a few bumps in my reputation as well, here and there.”

“Hawkin’s beers are helping us gain reputation, if only by association. We can do more—in fact, I’m going to enter Hawkin’s beers into the Oude Brewer’s Competition.”

“What?” Abigail said. “No. Hawkin has expressed a strong disinterest in competing.”

I waggled a finger. “He has no choice if others submit his beers for him.”

“Why would you, when I’m telling you not to.”

I relaxed back in my chair. “Of course. You make a good point.”

“Hawkin trusts me. I trust you.”

“Of course, of course.”