A Smidge of Magic

Chapter 34

At the safe house, they found a very excited Mal. He practically knocked Vale over with his greeting, shoved his head into Ian's hand, and even gave Ban bark of approval. When he reached Roland, he sniffed the air, trying to assess the new addition to the group. He immediately huffed the smell of alcohol out of his snout and returned to Vale for more affection.

"We shouldn't stay here, we could have a scout tailing us." Ban said.

"Absconlati," Roland murmured, and a flare of blue light emanated from his staff. "I suggest we have a meal. My spell will keep us hidden for the time being."

Less than an hour later, they were all seated in the modest noodle shop that Roland had led them to. It boasted five tables and a short section of counter, all of which were empty. The owner ran it alone, and he was now shuffling his way over to their table. An elderly dragon-man with scaly green skin, a long neck, and a bulging tortoiseshell hanging on his hunched back. He had agreed to allow Mal to join them inside on the condition that he minded his manners. Mal seated himself with statuesque posture on the floor beside Vale, exuding an air of noble grace.

Ian glanced at the menu, had no idea what he was looking at, and ordered the grilled fumquat with thrice noodles. The dish sounded as good as anything else he'd read.

Once the matter of food was settled Roland shifted in his chair to face Ian. He was becoming increasingly curious about the man and the organizations that he'd attracted.

"Listen Ban, you know I'm going to help you. I still owe you a great debt. And Ian here has piqued my interest as an added bonus, so give it to me straight. What am I getting myself pulled into?" Roland asked, still watching Ian.

"It is not my story to tell," Ban said with a shrug, he turned to Ian, "It may not seem like it, but Roland is trustworthy."

"I woke up in a cave in the middle of a forest..." Ian began, relaying the events that had led up to this morning. Their meals arrived in the middle of Ian's tale. He looked down at his food and took a sniff, pleased to find that his meal smelled inviting. The fumquat turned out to be a pear-sized ovular red fruit with stringy insides. And as Ian recalled his mother saying countless times, A good meal will do wonders for a sour mood. He dug into the steaming fruit.

The others ate while Roland mulled over Ian's tale.

"Alright," Roland started, "Seeing how events are unfolding that have far-reaching implications, I will help." He took a slurp of his soup and then reached to the center of the table for the pepper grinder. "And I know who you mean when you say Court. Ban asked me to attempt to scry on them when he first got assigned to his current post. And yes, I know who Ban works for."

The conversation then turned to the three plotting out the next move. Ian, being unable to offer much contribution used his fork-stick to push the fruit-noodles around. He eyed his companions thoughtfully. He couldn't figure out why they were willing to go so far to help him. It wasn't as though they knew what the aims of the Harlequin Court were. Or even if they really were out to get him, maybe they wanted Mal. Either he had the good fortune to find the most kind hearted-people on the planet, or they had their own agendas.

"Why are you people helping me?" He blurted, his doubts and nags bubbling over as his fork-stick clattered in the bowl. "You don't know me. You certainly don't owe me anything. And you're sure as hell risking more than most would be willing to. So... why?" He tried masking the frustration and anger in his voice but hadn't entirely succeeded.

They all stopped to look at him, even Mal who had an odd piece of beef hanging from between his teeth.

"Because," Vale said, turning to Ian, "You are in trouble and need help." She reached over and squeezed his arm gently, giving him a radiant smile. "I for one would not be able to live with myself if I did not help someone truly in need."