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I got the name of the inn where Essek was staying from Caleb. I think he suspected why I wanted it because his face got a little pinched, like he wanted to tell me not to go but also knew that would touch off a bigger discussion that he didn’t want to have, right here, right now, in the middle of the Cobalt Soul.
“I’ll be in Zadash anyway and I’ve got a thing he could help out on. Pre-Calamity shit. He’s all over that, right?” Caleb couldn’t help but agree. If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to tempt wizards into doing things they don’t want to do. In this case, all I needed was an address.
The inn was pretty shabby. Honestly, it was the kind of place I couldn’t imagine Essek being willing to walk into, let alone stay at. The barroom smelled like ale and every stew you’d ever eaten. They could serve you anything they wanted, and it would still smell like stew—that’s how deep the smell had sunk into the wood.
When I walked in, the barkeep gave me an assessing look, like they evaluated each patron for bar fight potential. Guess I ranked pretty high, because they came right over when I walked up to the counter.
“I’m looking for Seth—got a meeting with him. What room?” I’ve learned not to leave much room for argument. Used to be that just pissed people off. Now, with the robes and the abs, well, people just answer faster.
“He didn’t say he was expecting anyone…” the barkeep grumbled. They squinted at me, assessing.
I shifted and made sure the Soul insignia was visible.
They nodded and muttered something about not wanting any trouble. Then, they added: “He’s in room five.”
“Thanks, appreciate it.” I flipped them a silver. Doesn’t hurt to make some friends, and money is the easiest way. At least, it is when you’re blessed with my winning demeanor.
I knocked on the door, three sharp taps. “Hey, Seth. It’s your friend Beauregard.”
There was a thump, like someone knocked a book off a table or something. The door creaked open.
Essek had his Seth face on. That’s what I call it, even though that makes it sound creepy. The nondescript appearance had its uses, but it was weird to see someone you’ve watched nearly liquify someone with magic look like a mousy, middle-aged man, patchy attempt at a beard and all.
“Ah, Beauregard. I was not expecting you. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Essek/Seth said, motioning me in.
He glanced around the hallway behind me, then shut the door. Definitely Essek. Someone could fake the accent, but I didn’t think anyone could fake the paranoia.
“Just wanted to have a chat.”
There wasn’t much in the room, just a small, threadbare bed pushed up against a wall, a table, and a chair. There was a little lantern on the table, and as I suspected, a book.
His eyes flicked anxiously between the bed and the chair. The struggle of who would get the chair and who would sit awkwardly on the bed was a new one for him. I saved him the trouble and flopped down in the chair.
He sat on the bed, back straight and prim, even though he winced a bit at the movement.
“You can drop the disguise—I promise it’s me. Last time I saw you at Caleb’s, I brought five bottles of wine and Caleb gave me shit about having expensive taste.” He was still Seth, and I really didn’t want to have this discussion that way.
The tension in his shoulders eased just a bit, but not as much as I had expected. He clicked his fingers and Seth was gone.
Honestly, Seth was cleaner than Essek. Apparently the disguise was covering up more than just purple skin and pointy ears: his tunic and trousers were dirt-smudged and the soles of his boots had separated. Ink stained his fingers, but also flecks of mud and blood. It looked weird, to see him so worn. A bit like when I was a kid and I drug my new princess doll through mud and underbrush when I played outside.
He also seemed smaller. At first I thought it was because he wasn’t wearing a small fortune in ornamental layers like he used to, but his face gave him away: hollow-eyed and a bit gaunt.
“Apologies, I have not had time to clean up,” he said, gesturing down.
“No worries. You know there’s a bathhouse here. Like, a pretty nice one. Taught Veth to swim in there. Good times.”
“I am aware. The illusion… complicates things. Prestidigitation will help, but, well, there is also some mending to be done.”
The idea of Essek doing mending was so gods-damned funny I nearly snorted in laughter. He raised an eyebrow.
“Surely though you have not come simply to check in on my hygiene,” he added.
There was a little sharpness to his smile, a shadow of the Shadowhand, if you want to be cute about it. Must have been a bit of a touchy subject.
“No, no, you’re right. Came to see you for two things. First is: I’ve got some work for you, if you’re still game.” He wouldn’t like the second bit, so I figured I’d lead with the carrot. His eyebrows raised a fraction.
“Depends on the work, but if it is in my area of expertise, I am happy to assist. With pay, of course.”
That last bit was new. Suppose I didn’t ask how much money he left the Dynasty with, just assumed it was substantial. Still learning to reevaluate my assumptions; Dairon would kick my ass over that.
“Definitely your area. Pre-Calamity shit. Got something from a recent dig that we don’t understand, etcetera etcetera. Identify yields some mess nobody can parse. Nobody can touch it or cast on it because we don’t know if it’s dangerous. We’re shuttling the thing around by having people cast on things under it. It’s gotten a bit ridiculous and Yudala is willing to shell out for some answers.”
He gave me his usual I’m considering if this is a horrible idea look, but I could tell he was intrigued. Wizards love shit that might blow up or might be boring. Probably because everyone loves when something blows up and wizards also love boring stuff, so they win either way.
“That does indeed sound like my area.” He pushed back some hair from his forehead. He was getting scruffy, his undercut all grown out and at that stage when the little border hairs won’t stop tickling your ears. The top was downright long. That wasn’t what caught my eye though. What was interesting was the cracked-ice web of new, darker purple skin on his forearm, just visible when his sleeve rode down. It was grisly. Fresh. The skin stretched a bit along the fresh tissue, like a kid glued his forearm back together as a craft project and only got a B on the assignment.
“Been in some scrapes lately, huh?” I asked. It was obvious I’d seen, so it felt weird to notice and say nothing.
“Nothing compared to what you’ve been up to, I’m sure,” he demurred. A smooth deflection, but I’ve never been good at not pressing when there’s something to press at.
“No eyes though, right? Haven’t found any new eldritch horrors or flesh cities?” I tried for levity. See, I can be nice.
“No, no, nothing that exciting.” He didn’t elaborate. That was back when he hid anything and everything that might indicate he was less than capable. A lot like Caleb, in his early days but more stiletto-blades and double-disguises sort of paranoid to Caleb’s flaming-hands and hiding-in-muck sort of feral.
“Well, we could use your help when you’re available. Ideally soon. Caleb said you were coming to visit anyway and you’re welcome to stay with him.”
He twitched, a little ear flick. It just confirmed my suspicions.
His voice was apologetic, but firm: “Could I have a few days? I have another commitment imminently, but then I am happy to help.”
More secrets. Great. I leaned forward, making a show of my scrutiny. “What kind of commitment are we talking?”
His ears flicked down. I was frustrating him. “If you must know, I agreed to help a family with their taxes.”
That was not anywhere on the list of things I expected him to say. “I’m sorry, what?”
He sighed and tried to push back his hair again. He was more careful of his sleeve this time. The new scars must have been a sore subject. “I have been working for a family of farmers. Well, Jaque has. They cannot read, so I am helping them negotiate and fill out paperwork.”
I crossed my arms. Essek, working for farmers. It was either the worst lie he had ever told or it was the truth.
“You… farm now?” I asked. I tried to keep the incredulity out of my voice. I didn’t think he was lying, but the whole thing was so incredibly improbable.
“I use a bit of Graviturgy to help, surreptitiously, of course. And Jaque has the build to make it more believable.” He crossed his arms, then sighed. “You all spoke about how I had not experienced…what was it? ‘How normal people live?’ And I thought, perhaps”—he fiddled with his sleeve, staring down—“it might help my failure of compassion, to experience it.”
Huh. That was actually kind of brilliant. I’d never tell him that though. Honestly, it made me feel a little bad for the second part of my mission here.
“Damn, man. I’m…kind of proud of you?” I wasn’t sure what to say to reinforce that this was a good thing. I’ve never been great at positive reinforcement.
“Ah, thank you. But I should be available after. You can find me at Caleb’s.”
And there it was. That was as good of a transition as any for me. “About Caleb…”
A little ear flick again. He was getting worse at hiding his tells. It was cute.
I flipped open the book next to me and he flinched. Bet he thought I hadn’t caught the title, but I had. I read theatrically out loud: “A Common-Speaker’s Guide to Zemnian.”
When I glanced up, he had buried his face in his hands. I flipped a few more pages in. There were penciled annotations all through: little Undercommon notes and translations.
I took pity on him. “Have you told him how you feel yet?”
He peeked out from between his finger. “No, no. It hasn’t been the right time, and I don’t want him to worry for me.”
“He already worries for you.”
Essek sagged. “I know,” he whispered.
“Look, I came here to tell him that if you hurt him, I’ll…”
“Turn me into the Bright Queen?” That was the Essek we met in the Bastion, focused eyes under lowered brows and a sharp, knife-edge smile. “Because that is the only way I would ever hurt him. I can only promise to do my best, but my life is perilous.”
“You’re kind of ruining my shovel talk here, man.”
“I am sorry, please, do continue.” His face had softened a bit. I sighed. There wasn’t actually a lot more I had planned to say, certainly not when he looked so…tired.
“Uh…if you hurt him I’ll kill you, he likes you too, please ask him out so he’ll stop moping around when you leave, yeah. That’s about it.”
The smile had gotten a bit more genuine. “I will work on the asking. I am not practiced in such things, so it is challenging.” He fidgeted, rubbing the lumpy, grey wool blanket draped across the bed.
Without thinking, I asked: “Do you want dinner?”
I’m not sure where it came from. Maybe Caleb’s relentless love of feeding people was contagious. He shifted, like I’d asked some complex arcane question he had to grapple with.
I amended my question: “If I got dinner for both of us from downstairs, would you eat it?”
He nodded. Ugh, it really was like the early days with Caleb.
“Give me a minute. I’ll go get us whatever they’ve got downstairs. I’m warning you, it’s probably stew. It’s pretty much always stew.”
He laughed. “If there is meat, it’ll be better than I’ve had in weeks.” He looked a little panicked after that, like he’d said something he shouldn’t have. I mean, weeks without meat sounded rough to me, but Caduceus didn’t eat meat at all and he was fine. I didn’t push on that one.
Business at the tavern had finally started to pick up. When I got downstairs, I had to elbow aside a few folks, but the barkeep remembered me.
“What’ll it be?” They asked, yelling over the crowd.
“You got food?” I shouted back.
“House stew!”
“Gimme two!” I yelled.
They nodded and returned quickly with a tray, two bowls on it with a big hunk of crusty bread. I flipped them a gold and shook my head as they reached to give me change. Careful of my footing, I climbed back up the stairs, then shouldered my way into the room. Essek startled. Didn’t seem like he’d moved an inch, just sagged further into himself. I wondered if he’d been this tired as Shadowhand and just hid it better or if this was new. It didn’t seem like he was used to it yet.
“Two stew!” I called, cheerfully.
His eyes snapped to the bowls. I set the tray on the table, then handed him his portion.
He was dipping the bread in the broth before I’d even fetched him a spoon.
“Thank you, Beauregard. You will have to tell me how much I owe you.” He said it reluctantly, like it was hurting him, around a full mouthful of bread and broth.
I lifted a spoon to my own lips and nearly scalded myself.
Essek shoved another bite in his mouth.
“Nope, this is friendship, man. You’re one of us,” I said, waving my spoon at him in emphasis. “Don’t expect a meal every time I see you.” Couldn’t have him thinking I was going too soft.
He barely paused, just raised an eyebrow at me before returning to his bowl.
I tested another bite. They really had skimped on the seasoning—I’d bet there wasn’t even any wine cooked in, let alone a good cooking red.
“Goddamn man, your hosts must not be very good cooks if you think this is good, this is barely up to tavern standards,” I grumbled. At least the bread was pretty fresh. Definitely hearty enough; Caleb would enjoy it, and he preferred his bread dense enough it could serve as a ship anchor in an emergency.
Essek made no comment at that.
We ate our stew in peace, until I could tell from the scraping noise and studious look in his eyes that he was scouring the bowl clean.
I’d gotten about halfway through mine—plenty to hold me over until I got through the teleportation circle at the Archive and back home to Yasha.
“Hey, I’m about done and I gotta get going. You want the rest of mine?”
His fingers tightened around his spoon. Someone started cheering at whatever bard was setting up for the night downstairs. Footsteps passed outside the door, then a door slammed shut down the hallway.
Essek looked up. The look in his eyes reminded me of the feral cats Caleb insisted on feeding outside his house. I could never keep track of the names, but I swear, there were like twenty of them.
“Perhaps…” he said quietly. He paused for a second, mouth twitching. “I would not want the barkeep to think us wasteful, not this early in spring.”
“Don’t think they give a fuck, man. But sure.” I set my bowl back on the table. His shoulders slumped further. “Hey, I’ll see you in Rexxentrum next week? At Caleb’s?”
I hoped maybe he’d brighten at that, and he did, just a bit. A little excitement, a little terror—hard to tell apart on his usually impassive face. Like a tiny disturbance on the surface of a clear pond—hard to tell if it’s a minnow or a bass underneath unless you look really close.
“Yes, I will be there,” he said. His voice was a little breathier than usual. I wasn’t sure if this was a new mask or the absence of an old one.
“Cool. See you there.” I swung out the door. The same barkeep was still there, hustling back and forth as the night picked up.
“Hey!” I called. They looked up pretty fast. Such is the power of coin.
“What can I get for you?”
“Seth will bring down the bowls later. Here’s the money for his breakfast,” I tossed them another gold. Their eyebrows raised. “Certainly. Anything else for you?”
“Nope, I’m out.” I had a girlfriend to get home to, after all.
I didn’t knock when I arrived at Caleb’s. Knocking was for people who hadn’t slept in a bubble together for nights on end, pissed together on watch, and generally lived in each others’ armpits for months.
“Hey, I’m here!” I called. The door squeaked as it opened. Not sure if he left it like that as an alarm or because he just never got around to fixing it.
“Kitchen!” Caleb called back.
I slipped off my shoes at the door and walked through the living room. There were clear signs that Essek was visiting: papers all over the table, a blackboard pulled up from the lab and propped up on the mantle with some terrifying equation scrawled across it, and a wide-brimmed hat and gloves on hooks by the garden door. I rounded the corner to the kitchen and found the wizards themselves.
Caleb was slicing up a hearty loaf of bread. Sunflower and poppy seeds skittered across the cutting board and accumulated in the cracks of the countertop. He was in his shirtsleeves, the cuffs rolled up. He looked happy.
Essek stood straight-backed at Caleb’s side, slicing a block of cheese with earnest determination. While Caleb stacked the bread on the plate with brusque efficiency, Essek deposited each slice of cheese with delicate precision. There was a little frown of concentration on his face, but he looked much recovered from when I’d last seen him. Jester would say that ‘the power of love healed him’ or some shit like that, but I had my doubts.
“One minute and we’ll have this ready,” Caleb said, glancing up as I walked in.
“No rush,” I said.
Essek stilled his knife and looked up. He nodded in greeting.
Caleb gestured towards the kitchen table and I pulled out a chair.
“Essek, would you mind?” Caleb asked.
Essek nodded. He filled the kettle with water, then added tea leaves and cast prestidigitation on it until it steamed.
“That’s pretty handy,” I commented.
Essek smiled. “It is very helpful on the road. Tea, with no fire.”
Caleb set the plate of bread and cheese on the table. “I think that is enough cheese for us all. Bring the knife? Just in case.”
Essek added the block of cheese and knife to the plate. Caleb grabbed three teacups from a shelf, then poured us each a cup.
We all sat at the table for a moment, assembling our cheese sandwiches.
“Essek tells me you have a task from the Soul for him?” Caleb asked. He set down the remaining half of his sandwich to take a drink of the pink-red tea.
“Yep. If you can come by tomorrow, maybe everyone will calm down about the whole thing. The linguistics division is pissed we’ve stolen their conference room so we have a room to keep it in.”
Essek hid a smile behind his teacup. I wondered if Essek had confessed yet to Caleb. There was a nervous energy to him that suggested to me that he hadn’t. Also, I hadn’t seen them touch once yet. Caleb had been pining hard enough these last weeks that if they’d talked—really talked—well…I might have regretted not knocking.
“If you are available, I’m sure your opinion would be welcome as well,” Essek said softly. His hand moved slowly to rest on Caleb’s forearm. He patted it once, then pulled back. Caleb was giving him that look—besotted and transfixed—like Essek could be flossing his teeth and Caleb would say it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Fucking wizards.
Essek rose from his chair to refill our cups. His sleeve rode down a bit in the process, the bottom button undone. He filled my cup, then froze. Honestly, I don’t know that I would have noticed if not for his reaction. The scar on his forearm was gone.
I looked up at him. His eyes widened for a second, but he carried on refilling Caleb’s cup, then his own like nothing had happened.
I’d conveyed what I needed to, even got some tea, cheese and bread out of it. I didn’t mind starting shit on my way out, especially if it meant they would talk.
“Hey Essek,” I said, conversationally, as he sat back down, “did you tell Caleb about your cool new scar?”
That got a reaction. His ears flicked back—all the way back—like he was about to bare his teeth at me.
“No, Beauregard, we had not gotten to that yet,” he replied, through clenched teeth.
Caleb’s eyebrows had risen and he looked at Essek with fresh scrutiny.
“You…?” His brow furrowed. He studied Essek, eyes flicking up and down. He must have caught a shimmer of the illusion because he raised his hand and made the start of a dispel before pausing and waiting for permission.
Essek sighed. It shook a little bit at the end and I almost regretted doing this to him. Almost. His chin dipped down as he gave Caleb an almost imperceptible nod. Caleb completed the spell.
The disguise vanished. I say disguise, but that’s because I’m not sure what else to call it when you illusion your old posh appearance over your bedraggled, too-skinny current self.
“Essek,” Caleb breathed.
“I…I am not at my best, right now,” Essek started.
“He’s been doing farm labor,” I chimed in, taking some of the plates back to the kitchen. I’d hoped to lighten the mood, but Essek just shot me a glare.
Caleb put his hand atop Essek’s. Essek stared down at it like it was going to provide the right words for whatever shitty excuse he was going to try and make. Or maybe as though it was going to spontaneously combust.
“You…what?” Caleb asked. His brows were pinched in concern, but his eyes were wide with confusion. It was an odd contrast, but not an unfamiliar one on his face.
“I have been helping a farming family,” Essek said. There was a precision to his words I didn’t understand. Surely the obvious explanation for him looking a bit weatherbeaten was what he’d told me: he had been casting to help with farm work because he’s a noodle-armed wizard.
“He’s been doing manual labor on a farm while stealth casting,” I added.
Caleb looked…well, oddly furious. I thought he’d be pleased that Essek was trying something new, taking some steps to atone.
“You have been casting, consistently, while living on a farm. Recently.” Caleb’s voice was deadly even.
Essek nodded, still staring down.
“Schatz, you cannot do that.” Caleb angled his head down, trying to peer up at Essek’s face. “You cannot cast like an archmage on the diet of a peasant.”
Oh. That explained some things. I nudged the plate with the remaining bread and cheese on it closer to them.
Caleb’s voice was gentle. “And the scar?”
Essek huffed, a little mirthless laugh that seemed to almost shift into a sob before he swallowed it whole. “Botched teleport. I was running…grabbed one token while intending to go somewhere else.”
Caleb pressed a hand to Essek's cheek. That seemed like my cue to go.
“I’m….gonna leave you guys to it. See you tomorrow! I’ll come by before lunch!” I pulled on my shoes and got out of there. Business done—Essek and Caleb could thank me later. Preferably after they’d talked.
I arrived the next day at around 10:30am. Perfect timing. I knocked this time, just in case. Didn’t know what the fallout was from last night and figured it was best to be careful.
“Come in!” Caleb called.
I opened the door, a bit more tentative this time. Gods, did it smell good. Like eggs and bacon, maybe some fresh bread too.
I slipped off my shoes. There was a rustling sound from the couch. I walked into the living room at the same time as Caleb entered from the kitchen. He had a tray with three cups of tea, which he deposited on the coffee table.
“Good morning, Beauregard,” he said cheerfully, “give me one moment.”
There was the light clink of dishes being loaded onto the tray. Caleb straightened and I could see the scraps, little as they were, of breakfast.
“Hey man, we good to go in a few minutes?” I asked.
“I thought we might discuss the artifact here, where we need not disguise Essek’s identity, before we head out,” Caleb called as he vanished into the kitchen.
I moved to take my cup of tea and claim the closest armchair. I always leave the one facing the door for Caleb. He’s a paranoid bastard, but I love him. The blankets were so piled up on the couch, I nearly missed him: Essek, bundled up on the couch, looking like Caleb had tucked him in about 10 times before being confident that it had stuck.
One night didn’t fix everything, so he still looked a bit gaunt, but the color in his cheeks was better. His hair was trimmed back to an approximation of his usual haircut and styled cleanly. He didn’t look like the Shadowhand we’d met in Rosohna, but he also didn’t look like he’d been living in a cave for months.
“Heeeeeeeey…” I wasn’t really sure what to say after where I left things yesterday.
Essek sighed. “Hello, Beauregard.”
He dug himself out of his blanket cocoon, piling them to the side before crossing his legs under him and taking his teacup. His sleeves were pulled down, but I caught the edge of familiar, linen bandages poking out from one side.
“Sorry about yesterday, man, I just…”
He leveled me with a frosty glare, but it melted just as fast. Then, quietly, but spoken with a smile: “Thank you.”
Caleb peeked out from the kitchen, a notebook under one arm and a small bag in his hand. “I have packed snacks.”
At that, Essek couldn’t help but laugh. Caleb walked up behind the couch and pressed a kiss to his temple.
I grinned and resisted wolf-whistling, because that’s exactly the kind of generous person I am. “I would say my job here is done, but we’ve still got an artifact nobody can lift or identify so…”
Caleb pushed aside the blankets and settled on the couch next to Essek. He took a sip from his teacup. “That sounds like an excellent way to spend a day.”