Chapter 29 #2
She looked at her feet. “If I charge you nothing, you get to stay for as long as you wish, right?”
“Well, yes, but— I will have to return at…some point. To access any resources I need from the library, and to hand in the project. To see it published.” And then there is the matter of continuing my career.
He could not voice that thought aloud, did not wish to consider just yet the distance that would put between him and the Misnich Inn.
But perhaps if he took the time to appeal Enach’s actions on the Transportation Circle first, such journeys could last only days instead of weeks.
In fact, now that he thought about it, if he wrote to Enach stating his intentions to appeal, Enach might well remove the block just to spare the public stain to his reputation.
But that was a matter for another day.
She looked up at him. “Of course. But until then—”
Suddenly, Quiddle burst through the door, making them both jump. “Honey, can you lend a hand with the tables again? Please? I’m knackered!”
She sighed. “All right, I’ll be there in a minute. Ainsworth, do you mind—?”
“Please do help the lad! I’ll unpack my things, and I may rest a while, if that’s all right with you.”
She smiled, nodded, and was about to leave when, unable to stop himself, he added, “Wait. Honey?”
“Yes?”
“It’s just later, if we get a chance…” Oh Matron, he could feel the fire in his cheeks already. “I thought we could talk…in private? About…everything. I mean in the tavern it was so busy—and I want to talk with you because I…Well, you deserve to know—”
“Oh,” she said, pausing by the door. “Well, you don’t owe me any explanations, Ainsworth, but I do wish to hear more about your time away. So yes, later. My room, perhaps?”
“Yes! That would be splendid!”
He caught the sheepish grin she tried to conceal as she turned and closed the door behind her.
The bustling inn offered little chance for intimate catch-ups, however—even his promised one with Honey.
Ainsworth thought he might spend a night or two resting before taking on the journey, but as he spent two days in a row rushing between tables alongside Quiddle and Honey and helping out Alvea in the kitchen, he wondered if setting out on his Mount Vengeance quest immediately might have been less strenuous than the demands of hospitality.
The guests in the evening were so rowdy they kept Honey, Ashe, and Bren performing into the wee hours.
Ainsworth joined in the dancing, laughing alongside his friends and exchanging stolen glances with Honey.
This was a different kind of rest, he realized, feeling his heart, his soul, replenish after the battering they took from Hinslyth, from Enach.
Things finally quieted down on the third day.
Some of the visitors departed via the Transportation Circle, and only one new adventuring party arrived, ambling along the route from Wenslykirk.
As Ainsworth watched Honey check them in, he knew it would be fruitless to approach them considering the “curse” on the inn but, well…
He could not resist introducing himself and explaining his research, his plans.
In a rare turn of events, the weather calmed as evening approached, and the chill, crisp outdoors offered respite from the chaotic inn.
As such—and in order to finally celebrate Ainsworth’s return—that night Ashe set up a campfire along the path to Mount Vengeance: only a few steps from the inn itself, of course, should their assistance be needed.
Perched on rocks and sitting, legs crossed, on the grass, they all balanced bowls of stew on their knees and passed around a couple bottles of wine.
The group could hear the muffled roar of cheers, singing, and applause from the inn when the bard from the adventuring party took up his instrument.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be in there with them? ” Ainsworth asked.
Bren shook his head. “A bit of peace and quiet is what I’ve been craving.”
They ate under the stars, with Ainsworth recounting a bit about what had happened at the library, glossing over the unpleasantries but making it clear he was no longer involved with Enach. Then he launched into the account of his return journey.
“Why did you bring a bow? You didn’t have one last time,” asked Quiddle, almost toppling over his stew in his haste to accept the bottle Ashe passed him. She scowled at his clumsiness as she caught his bowl.
“I wanted to hunt this time. For a swifter journey,” said Ainsworth. Not entirely a lie.
He then told them about his run-in with Fig and Fern, which Honey was delighted to hear about, and even Ashe asked after Fern and whether she might visit again.
They spent the rest of the evening together, occasionally interrupted by a guest seeking more drink or requesting cloths to clean up a spill.
Honey sat perched next to Ainsworth, and he was filled with contentment when, after finishing her meal, she leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Well, Ainsworth, what’s next for your project? I thought the only thing left was the section on Mount Vengeance,” asked Ruraidh from across the fire.
Ah, it was time, then. Ainsworth nodded.
“You’ll just be waiting around for more brave adventurers?” Ashe snorted.
“Oh, hopefully! We could use an extra hand around here, and if he has nothing else to do but wait for something that will never happen…” said Spin.
Alvea laughed and agreed that an extra hand in the kitchen would be nice. “You’ll really earn your place in the staff quarters then,” the chef said, grinning.
“Ainsworth has already earned his keep!” said Honey indignantly.
“Yes, by flirting with the innkeeper…”
Ainsworth felt himself blush as Honey flashed Alvea a rude gesture in response.
“Well, no, I won’t just be waiting around,” Ainsworth said in a desperate effort to change the subject. “I’ll be recording a firsthand account of the journey.”
The only sound that followed Ainsworth’s declaration was the crackle of the campfire.
“Wait,” Ashe said, at last. “You’re going to climb Mount Vengeance?”
Honey drew away from him as though he were a scalding flame. “What?”
He took a breath. “Yes, I am. And I shall leave tomorrow. The party that arrived this morning has offered to take me.”
It had taken surprisingly little convincing. The leader of the party was an orc named Freckle, who heartily agreed to not only include Ainsworth but also to have his own adventures during the journey documented in Ainsworth’s book.
“Freckle’s lot? You can’t be serious, Ains. No one ever leaves for the mountain.”
“Exactly,” Bren said decisively. “The lad’ll do what everyone else does. Wake up in the morning and decide not to follow through with it.”
“I think you’re forgetting, Bren, that I have already headed out for the mountain several times!” Ainsworth said, indignant. As if he had not already proved himself to be impervious to whatever affliction fell upon the other adventurers!
“Aye, but it’s different this time,” said Bren. “You never set out to go the whole way. You’ll change your mind in the morning, just you wait.”
“Yes, exactly, thank you, Bren,” said Honey.
“Nah, I think he’ll go, since he’s been before. He’s not a coward,” piped in Quiddle.
“Yes, exactly, thank you, Quiddle,” Ainsworth said, shooting Honey a triumphant look. “I’ve set out before, and I shall set out again. I will take rations for about two weeks, and I plan on hunting to supplement it. I learned a lot about the land while I traveled with Ashe, and—”
Honey took his shoulder and forced him to face her. “This is preposterous. You cannot do this. You do not need to do this—you said your project could be changed, that it could leave out the adventurous accounts.”
“Well, yes. But I—I should not give up until I’ve tried everything. This is a last resort, yes, but it’s my project. I should take it into my own hands, give it a real shot of being the book that I thought it could be.”
Honey’s eyes narrowed. “The book that damn library of yours thought it could be, you mean.”
“Well, of course. They are paying for it after all!”
“The book your colleagues thought it could be.”
Ainsworth paused as Honey’s words hit their mark.
He considered his next statement carefully.
“Honey, I see this project far differently than I did before. And I am much changed in my approach to this work, I assure you. But I—I’m sorry, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.
I simply want to observe the conditions, chart a path for my book, get a clear idea of the—”
She scoffed, folding her arms. “I doubt you’ve really changed at all in that respect—and what about the small matter of the dangers the mountain poses. You’ll get hurt. You’ll—die!”