CHAPTER 9 The Smell of Wet Dog

CHAPTER 9

The Smell of Wet Dog

Rufus

I’d said that I would be alright with a hot spring stopover in Thistlecrick, but I was, in fact, not alright.

There was something so unforgettable, so recognizable, so fragrant about the smell of a wet dog. And I was that dog—wolf. Whatever.

So when we actually arrived at the hot springs an hour later, I excused myself to go find Derilla Vane while Minstrel Bronwynn headed for the baths.

“I’m surprised to see you this far from your dungeon.” Derilla smirked, pouring me a cup of dewdrop petal tea. The Naga clans had escorted me into the deepest part of the estate, to the private dwelling of the arachne general. He sat in his usual spot, overlooking the beautiful mountainous hillside.

I accepted the cup, refusing the offer of cream, and considered how much to tell him. I was technically his superior, but the last time we’d battled was four years ago at the winter solstice, and since then, he’d grown more powerful.

On the years Derilla couldn’t attend due to his diapause, the arachne’s apprentice Merik of the Naga clan would compete as a proxy. He won the position every time, but dared not claim the title himself. Everyone continued to call Derilla the general even while asleep. The arachne was terrifying, and could probably defeat even me in a fair fight.

Not that Derilla ever fought fair.

At this time, he was neither my superior nor my king. I ignored the building pressure churning in my stomach from a combination of notifications blinking in the corner of my eye and Derilla’s passive [Fear] perk. This was why I hated leaving my dungeon.

I cultivated a calm facade, even going so far as to activate [Natural Poise] .

[ Natural Poise , passive effects: perfect posture and an air of confidence. Effects can be identified by anyone with an equal or higher Charisma. When activated, +1 Charisma for minutes equal to Charisma.]

“I’m on a trip to meet with the new leader of the Servalt Assassin’s Guild, and to have a polite talk with them about recent events.”

“Alongside Minstrel Bronwynn?” Derilla took a sip of his own tea. He was a very relaxed arachne who felt like the silent edge of violence.

Since he had surpassed me in level, I didn’t need to check my notifications; they weren’t about him. Still, I could see he was hostile even in his hospitality.

I shrugged. “She’s going in the same direction, and she is our queen’s best friend. I’m watching that she makes it there safely.”

Derilla considered, swirling his cup as he stared at one of the many waterfalls in the distance. His rooms, no matter where the city moved, remained overlooking these three stark hills. Hot springs flowed in bubbling pools worn into the mountainside, and all manner of beasts traveled to soak in the waters.

The largest waterfall fell into a pond made of runoff from the hot springs at the bottom of the ravine, which left the peaks shrouded in shifting mists. It had a harsh, ethereal beauty.

“As you say.” The arachne nodded, amusement heavy in his voice, but also acceptance. “And how is Her Viciousness settling in?”

“Not much has changed, except Keith is smiling like an idiot and she’s helping more with the paperwork.” Something any good ruler needed: the ability to file reports. “And I am reminded every day how foolish her parents were for sending her off here to die. What idiot throws away a highly trained administrator?”

Derilla grinned. “A dead one.”

“Undead, technically,” I corrected. “Now they are haunting the royal cemetery in Drendil, as I’ve heard.”

For that, I was relieved. There’d been jests at the table about tossing the couple in my dungeon to get some much-needed counseling. Could I have destroyed them and reformed them into upstanding members of society with the force of my overwhelming mental perks? Maybe. Would it have taken a lot of time? Yes.

And then I’d be stuck in their company.

That wouldn’t do. Also, I was not a manipulator by nature. My mediation style revolved around facts and repeat reminders: Don’t lie to your spouse. Don’t withhold information from your spouse. Don’t not talk to your spouse. Don’t ignore the burning passionate fire that dwells in your soul that tells you to be vulnerable and lay bare the feelings of your heart to your spouse. Don’t lie to your spouse. And so forth .

“Speaking of, when is your spar?” I asked, finishing my tea and sampling some of the food set out.

The naga were half snake, and the arachne were half spider, and both enjoyed a predominantly carnivorous diet. The platter reflected that; delicate slices of fish were layered into the shape of rose petals, grilled boar bites were skewered with a variety of dipping sauces, and tiny grilled squid were crispy. They all tasted wonderful.

For the first time, Derilla tensed. His devilish grin tightened, and he let loose a bit of his dark intent. As soon as it flared, it was back under control. “We had a quick bout before the wedding, actually. A single pass.”

“Oh?” I was surprised they’d chosen to do so in private. Unless Her Viciousness had foreseen the results and chose to spare the general an audience to his defeat.

“I’ll be going back into training,” the arachne stated. “But I’m not going into diapause this year. You can expect me at the winter solstice.”

“I look forward to it.” And that was that.

We lapsed into silence, enjoying the scenery.

A second round of trays were brought in. Soy phoenix eggs were served on rice, alongside a warm miso broth with fresh green onion. They were much smaller than the usual floofpoof bird eggs commonly eaten in the Dark Enchanted Forest.

Eventually, we moved to the private hot springs reserved for the General of the North. I transformed, losing the hair and my snout. I did not become human nor elf in this form, but could pass for both with my slightly pointed ears. I attributed my lighter than usual golden-brown tan to the hours spent indoors.

I soaked happily in private, long after Derilla excused himself, and hoped my travel companion was having an equally relaxing venture.