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Chapter 55: Can you forgive something like that?

  Hector’s eyes went wide as the tower leaned to the side. One of the wooden legs holding the tower popped, sending wood spitting across the dirt before it split clean in half. The brewing vat groaned as it pitched forward.

  A rush of wind accompanied its fall as Hector’s hair whipped around him; the tankard slammed into the floor, exploding into a shower of debris and large splinters of wood. The rotten smell of aged ale slithered through the air.

  Marcus gagged, leaning on Delworth, whose eyes were wide with wonder. Hector was unimpressed. A slight tinge of annoyance bubbled in his chest. He clenched his fist, his head snapping to Lincoln.

  “What in the name of the great lake is wrong with you, Lincoln?” He yelled, his voice twinging. “Do you have any idea how old that is? It’s been here longer than any of us, and you did that to it.” Hector pointed a trembling finger at the ruins of the tankard.

  “Sorry,” Lincoln said. His cheeks, quickly gathering dust, went red.

  “Wasn’t it going to fall, anyway?” Delworth asked. He rested one hand on Marcus’ shoulder while using the other to rub his back. “Keep it in. You’ll become dehydrated if you throw up.”

  Marcus fanned his hand, taking deep breaths as he slowly turned towards Hector. “It should have fallen a long time ago. If anything, this place is slightly safer now. Why does it matter that it was old?”

  How can these two not see the history that has just been lost? Did they not care about the things that would be lost? You know what, never mind.

  Hector set his jaw. Emela, standing next to him, shook her head with exasperation while Nyx, who stood just behind, was as calm as ever. It was sad, but what was done was done. No one else seemed to care about it.

  Jodie stalked over to Lincoln, crunching over wooden splinters—the old ones now joined with the new ones they had created. She snatched the large wooden plank from Lincoln. “Give me that, before you break the one useful piece we’ve found, you idiot.”

  She moved it under her arms, her nails biting into its surface to secure it in her grip. It looked like someone trying to carry a foldable garden table, only with a lot more ease.

  “You know what, let’s just get the coins counted,” Hector said, massaging his forehead and gesturing to an open spot on the dirt. Jodie huffed, placing the plank on the floor as best she could without breaking it.

  “As I said outside, Lincoln and I also have something to talk about,” Hector said as they all gathered around the board. Lincoln gave Hector an appreciative nod. Not that he needed to. They’d already agreed on how this was going to go.

  “Not a problem, I hope,” Emela said, meeting Hector’s gaze.

  He shook his head, then reached for the pouches at his belt. His fingers played with the strings as he spared a glance at the pouches the others pulled out. There wasn’t as much as he’d thought there would be.

  Is this going to be enough? If it isn’t, Lincoln’s plan might be the only chance I have left.

  “Here’s ours,” Jodie said. Several small pouches thumped onto the wooden board.

  “And ours,” Emela said, throwing one pouch onto the board. It thumped with a clink. They mustn’t have had a good time of it.

  Hector resisted the urge to sigh.

  Lincoln threw his down, and Hector threw his own. With four soft thuds, the pouches clinked next to each other. Hector couldn’t help it. A sigh passed through his lips. His head hung as he dropped to one knee and began opening the pouches.

  “I kinda had to do the actual taking part by myself,” Jodie said, crossing her arms. Hector raised an eyebrow and glanced up at her. She shrugged and gestured towards Delworth and Marcus. “These two were useless to the point of almost being a danger. Delworth even went up to someone and just asked if he could pickpocket them.” She shook her head and sighed.

  “It wasn’t that bad for us,” Emela said, jerking her head towards Nyx. “She did most of it, if I’m honest. I didn’t really know what I was doing.”

  Makes sense. Somehow, I can’t imagine Emela actually doing much. I should have known she would struggle with that. I’m glad that Nyx was there. Then again—when isn’t Nyx nearby?

  Hector picked up the coin pouches, spilling their contents over the board. The coins bounced off each other with satisfying clinks. Hector raised a hand to his mouth, rubbing at his cheeks. It wasn’t looking good.

  Glancing up at each of them, he jerked his head at Lincoln. “It went well for us. Well, until the Phoenix company showed up. Then I had to save Mirae.”

  “What?” they all said in unison. Lincoln shrugged.

  “Is she an Idiot? What was she doing, outside?” Jodie asked

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  “Jodie!” Emela hissed.

  “What?” Jodie replied. “That was something stupid to do. I mean, didn’t you hear what he just said? The Phoenix company was there. They almost caught her.”

  “It was the guards that almost caught her, actually,” Lincoln said, smiling at Jodie.

  Hector shot a glare at him. Did he need to aggravate her? As for what Jodie said, Hector couldn’t blame her. That was just how she was, and she didn’t exactly know why Mirae had left the stall. But he couldn’t exactly tell her.

  I don’t even know if I should tell them. I’m going to need to come up with a plausible excuse at some point.

  Hector picked up a silver coin off the board. The afternoon light flickered off it as he held it up in the air. He glanced back down at the board. There weren’t many of these. Most of them seemed to be bronze. It wasn’t looking good.

  He jolted—hadn’t he had another pouch? His hand shot to his waist as he fumbled for it. Where had he last—the shed!

  You’re kidding me. I can’t believe that I left it in the damn shed. If I hadn’t gotten so worked up with Dad… oh no, Dad. What if he finds it? How am I going to explain this to him? I’m such an idiot.

  “Everything alright, Hector?” Emela asked, tilting her head to the side. She shifted on her feet as she regarded him.

  Hector nodded, his heart hammering in his chest. He let out a breath, feeling it as it left his lungs. He’d have to deal with that problem later. “It’s all fine. I’m just a little worried about the amount is all,” He said, glancing down at the rest of the coins. A crate clattered behind him, followed by squeaking. Hector shook his head; there were about seventeen silver coins.

  A bunch of bronze made up most of the pile. But they would hardly amount to much. Maybe one silver if he was lucky.

  “What do you mean?” She asked, crouching down to his level. A frown flickered across Nyx’s features, but Hector paid it no mind. Emela brushed a loose strand of pale blond hair behind her ear. “Do you not think this will be enough? How much more do you think you will need?”

  Hector shook his head, raising a hand and combing it through his white hair. “I don’t know,” he said, “but a lot more than this.”

  They all fell quiet. The sound of dripping water on some far-off wall filled the silence. Stale ale and the rancid smell of rotten wood drifted in, and Marcus’ nose scrunched as his face paled a little.

  I don’t know the size of my dad’s debt. But I doubt the collar gang would be this riled up over anything less than a couple of gold. So this seventeen, plus the three I got from the Farmhand over there… It’s not gonna cut it.

  The boy lay against one of the large pillars that held up what remained of the brewery’s roof. He was still unconscious. At this point, Hector was a little worried he was in a coma, but he doubted it. That could only mean one thing.

  Well, I can deal with him after the count is done. It will tie in well with what Lincoln and I have to say—and probably smooth things over as well.

  The group had wordlessly agreed to talk about their hostage after the count. Hector was thankful for that.

  Lincoln’s plan might actually be the only way forward. I can’t believe this is what we’ve come to. Damn.

  The coins continued to clink in the silence. When Hector was done, he counted eighteen silver and thirty bronze. Two of those silvers were made up of bronze. It wasn’t looking good.

  “Alright then,” Hector said, climbing to his feet. He dusted off his knees and clapped the dust off his hands as they all focused on him. He gave Lincoln a sharp nod and moved over to the pillar where the Farmhand lay.

  One more ride, then—shall we?

  Hector bent down, hefting the Farmhand over his shoulder and walked back over to the board. With a thud, he plopped the Farmhand onto the dirt, a little way from the board. Delworth got onto his knees and began scooping the coins into different bags.

  Patting the Farmhand on the shoulder, Hector let out a breath. “As you can tell, this is a Farmhand. One that Lincoln and I borrowed…”

  “We kidnapped him,” Lincoln said. He puffed out his cheeks and rolled the air around inside them.

  “You what!?” Emela snapped. “I thought you just found him. What have you done, Hector?”

  Where would we just find an unconscious Farmhand? They aren’t wild berries.

  Hector shook his head, meeting her eyes. “It was not without reason. If I didn’t need to take him with us, I wouldn’t have. Besides, once you hear what Lincoln and I have to say, you’ll understand.”

  A silence settled between the group. The caws of the crows outside, loud and piercing, pervaded the air. Jodie raised an eyebrow as she subtly shook her head. “Well then, go on.”

  Hector bent down and whispered into the Farmhand’s ear. “You can drop the act. I know you’re awake. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to get physical…”

  “Hector,” Emela said in warning. He held up a hand—what he said and did were too different things, but this guy didn’t know that.

  “One… Two…”

  “Alright, alright.” The Farmhand’s eyes went wide as he looked around the group. His body shook when he spotted Hector from the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt me.”

  Well, this is a far cry from the guy who almost dropped Lincoln. I guess now that he is surrounded, that confidence has dropped.

  “This guy,” Hector said, pushing off the dirt and getting to his feet, “Was patrolling a barn that Lincoln and I believe could be involved in demonic cultivation.” He glanced at his friends; various reactions flittered across their faces. None of them were good.

  “You went to the farm?” Emela asked, frowning. “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t? What were you thinking?”

  “He was being a good friend,” Lincoln said. Emela shot him a look, daring him to say something else. He fell silent and hung his head.

  “I did, and I’m glad I did,” Hector said with a sigh. “It’s bad, guys. People are actually dying. Never mind the fact that we went to the farm.”

  Emela went to say something, but paused. Her mouth fell open as her tongue rolled around her cheeks in disbelief, and she frowned. Hector shook his head. “Tell them,” he said, nudging the Farmhand with his foot.

  The Farmhand glanced up at Hector, his brows creasing in a frown. “I can’t,” he said, looking at his feet. “I don’t… I don’t know what you are talking about?” His face contorted with a look of confusion as he looked back up at Hector.

  “Now is not the time to be keeping secrets. We’ve seen the bodies,” Hector said. His fist clenched at his side—did this Farmhand take them for idiots? “How do you even explain your cultivation? Someone at your rank should not be Gravity Forging two.”

  The boy’s head fell, and he muttered something. Jodie raised an eyebrow to Hector, and he shrugged. With a sigh, the Farmhand looked back up, his eyes shifting between them. “You’ve got to believe me. If I could say I would. It’s just that… when I think of…” His brow creased. A dull look briefly crossed through his eyes. “When I think of it, I can’t remember a thing, but one thing I know is: That place is horrifying. I can’t go back. Please, you’ve got to help me.”

  The boy sobbed softly into his bound hands. Hector looked at his friends. What was going on with this guy? Did he want them to feel sorry for him? He had to be joking, right?

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  Anyone feel sorry for this guy? The Farmhand I mean.

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