A Villain at Sea: A Destiny Detour Short Story Starring Shrilynda

Part 2 of 7 - In Search

Seizing her opportunity, she stepped inside. In a glance, she saw a large pot over a fire—simmering stew, most likely. The smell was nauseating, both due to the fact that her head was pounding and because she rarely ate. A large trough of water sat next to the door. Long loaves of bread sat cooling on a tall counter. Shrilynda crossed her arms and tapped her fingers on one arm. Any one of these items was suitable for poisoning. Being presented with the opportunity, however, filled her with unwelcome pause. Since Namon preferred slow, arduous deaths, the poison was likely to be slow-acting. Namon may have savored the panic of poison victims, but Shrilynda had no use for and no way to manage a panicked room of dying people right now.

She rubbed her throbbing temples. Of course, she could not run the risk of killing the monkey. The only chance to use the stone was if it stayed active, which meant it had to stay inside the monkey's living body. As soon as the monkey was no longer touching the stone, it would no longer call to the sea creature. Besides, while she was trying to think clearly, she had to admit the deaths of everyone at an inn in Bayselle might call down unwanted attention. She just needed to lure the monkey away. Perhaps she was making things too complicated. She could have a worker here snatch the monkey and carry her outside. Then she could go prepare a pain-dulling potion for herself.

She withdrew the knife from her belt, but before she could move herself next to the door and out of sight, a man burst through.

"Ack," said the man, jumping back. She had run right into Cliff. Or, more accurately, he had run into her. "You scared me. I'm looking for the ale?" Why was that a question? "Lucia has her hands full, and I thought I'd give her one of mine, or two, even, but if I'd known you were back here, I would have just let you handle things. So the big party out there—you know—the Elana clan and the Zuros—"

He continued speaking after that, but Shrilynda did not know, and she did not want to know. If Cliff had the monkey with him, she would have stabbed him right there, but he was monkey-free. She slipped the knife back in her belt. She needed a reason for him to take his pet out of this busy place. Vague mass poisonings were one thing, but witnesses reporting dark, hooded women skulking about near the site of multiple magical stabbings was definitely attention she wanted to avoid.

By the point she had mulled over those thoughts, the man had stopped speaking and was headed back in to the main room.

"Wait," she said.

He froze and spun around on his heels, blinking his dumb, pale blue eyes curiously.

Unfortunately, she had no follow-up.

"I need..." she began.

"Oh, you don't work here," Cliff said. "I'm sorry. I just assumed. Anything I can help with?"

He was a helper who was friends with everyone, it seemed. Shrilynda should be able to come up with an excuse to lure him out of here. Shrilynda had lived with a helper-type for fourteen years after all.

"My...horse," she tried, waving vaguely in the direction of her non-existent animal. Helper-types loved animals, or so she assumed. "It's been attacked by..."

Cliff gasped. "Did you get hit by those bandits outside town? I can't believe they're still out there, attacking people with impunity." And then his whole face lit up, like this was an opportunity. "We need to report this to the new law council." He clapped his hands together. "Oh, a few more of these attacks will really legitimize a local protection force. And—" he blinked, focusing back on her. "I'm sorry to hear about your trouble. Not from around here? You have an accent I can't quite place."

"Not from around here," she agreed. "But if you could hurry..."

"Oh, of course!" he exclaimed, springing into motion. "Just let me grab Quita and we'll get you some assistance."