Heretical Fishing

Book 2: Chapter 65: Could Have Gone Worse

As I lay in the shade with a sausage dog on his back between my arm and body, I drifted in and out of sleep. Each time my awareness returned to the waking world, I smiled and rubbed Borks’s belly. The filtered sunlight peeking through Lieutenant Colonel Lemony Thicket’s canopy was just right, providing the perfect amount of warmth to counteract the chilly forest air. All things considered, it was a wonderful day to be ambushed.

I cracked an eye as I felt Barry coming.

That’s something, I thought.

I’d never been able to discern who each person was before, but that flicker of chi striding through the forest was definitely Barry.

“Over here, mate,” I called, closing my eyes and letting a smile cross my face. “Next to Lemon.”

Borks stretched, and I scratched his belly as Barry drew closer.

“How did it go with Roger, by the way?” I asked, knowing he was close enough to hear me.

“Not good,” came the gravelly voice of definitely not Barry.

I bolted upright, and Borks responded with the same level of surprise. He shifted into his nightmare form in an instant, his large torso standing over my shoulder. Roger’s stride didn’t falter for a moment. He marched toward me and Borks, his‌ gaze flinty. Barry followed behind him, looking as confused as I felt.

I reached under Borks’s chest, patting his shoulder reassuringly and letting him know it was fine. I was sure he wouldn’t attack Roger, but I didn’t want him to scare the farmer. As Roger drew closer and I got a better look at his face, I realized my worry was misplaced.

His jaw worked inaudibly as he looked from me to Borks, then at the tree.

“I take it this is Brigadier Borks and Lieutenant Colonel Lemony Thicket, then?”

“Er—yeah, mate. Borks, Lemon—this is Roger.”

Borks nodded, and Lemon sprouted a leaf, waving it at him.

He bit down, the muscles at his temples flexing with the effort.

“I need to thank you for healing Sharon.” He spared Barry a glance. “Both of you.”

I rubbed the back of my head. “It was all Barry on that one, mate. All I did was exist.”

His face didn’t change as he stared down at me.

“If you weren’t a cultivator, a traveler, as Sharon tells it, then she’d never have been healed.” He looked at Barry again. “Correct?”

“Uhhh... yeah. That’s right.”

Roger’s eyes came back to me.

“You saved my wife—Maria’s mother—from a terminal illness. So, I thank you.”

The cold indifference on his face didn’t match his words. Without another sound, he lunged for me. Any of us—Barry, me, or Borks—could have stopped him. None of us did. Roger’s hand held my collar. He pulled it toward himself as much as he could without ripping another of my shirts.

If looks could kill... I thought, seeing the fury etched in every line of his face. His upper lip twitched, then peeled back to reveal clenched teeth.

“But,” he said, jaw trembling, “you did so by making her a cultivator.” The last word was venom-laced, and he spat to the side as if he couldn’t bear its flavor. “Then, you made my daughter a cultivator, potentially dooming all of us to death if the capital were to find out.”

“Fischer had nothing to do with Sharon’s awakening, Rog—”

“Shut! Up!” he roared, whirling on Barry. “Everyone keeps calling it awakening, or ascending, or some other pleasant bullshit that makes it sound like something good!” He took a deep breath, but it didn’t still his anger. “You turned my wife into a gods’ damned cultivator!”

Barry nodded, steady as a boulder.

“I did. And I’d do it again.”

“What gives you the right?” Roger let go of my collar, stomping toward Barry and poking a finger into his chest. “Who gives you the right? You’re not a god, so stop acting like one!”

Barry gave Roger a tragic smile, his eyes filled with compassion.

“She would have died, Roger. Soon, too, by my estimate. I regret that I couldn’t give her a choice, but she wasn’t lucid enough to understand me, let alone consent. As I said, however, I’d do it again. I’d do it a hundred—a thousand times over if it meant saving her life. As for Maria—”

“Don’t!” He screamed, his voice like gravel. “Don’t even speak her name! You two turned my little girl into an abomination!”

“Mate...” I said, unable to hold my tongue. “That’s going a bit too fa—”

“Shut up, Fischer! I don’t care if you’re some god or someone pretending to be one! You’ve single handedly tainted the two people I love the—”

“Enough!” I moved in what must have been a blur to him. I lifted him by the torso and slammed him into Lemon’s trunk, not hard enough to hurt him, but hopefully hard enough to knock some sense into his thick skull. It stunned him enough for his anger to break, his eyes going wide. “Remember what Sharon said about not saying things you couldn’t take back? They’re still your family, you stubborn old prick!” I opened my mouth to continue, but cut myself off. I took a deep breath, then let out slowly, continuing with a calmer tone. “They’re still your family, Roger, you peanut. They aren’t different people.”

“And!” I continued, raising my voice a little. “Maria knew exactly what she was doing. She requested to be made into a cultivator after I warned her off of it. Repeatedly. To call that a mistake is to call your daughter an idiot.” I let go of Roger, and he slumped to the forest floor, his face going blank as he leaned against Lemon’s sturdy trunk. I kneeled down so our eyes were level. “We both know she’s not an idiot. She’s brilliant, mate, and she was of sound mind when she decided to become a cultivator.”

“I know...” he said, his gaze staring right through me. Slowly, motion returned to his face. His lip trembled, but this time, it wasn’t because of anger. With eyes growing bloodshot, he lowered his head into his hands. I hesitantly raised a hand, but pulled it back, not knowing how to reassure him. I looked to Borks for assistance, but he was already on the move. His golden hair bounced as he padded up to Roger in Golden Retriever form, sniffing and nuzzling his arm and head.

An arm laced with wiry muscle drifted up to rest on Borks’s back.

Barry and I turned away at the same time.

“I’ll be picking some lemons over here when you’re ready to talk again, Roger.”

I heard a muffled sound that could have been a sob, but I kept my eyes forward as I strode away, knowing there was nothing I could do to comfort him. We reached one of the lemon trees on the other side of the clearing and began studiously searching its branches for the juiciest of fruit.

“Well,” Barry whispered. “That couldn’t have gone any worse.”

I shrugged.

“Pretty sure a meltdown was impossible to avoid, given how staunchly he views the world. All things considered, it could have gone way, way worse.”

Barry reached up and plucked a lemon.

“I suppose that’s true. Still, there’s something unsettling about seeing a man like Roger distraught.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I can handle anger and hatred, but how do you comfort a bloke like him? I feel like there’s a fifty-fifty chance it just makes everything worse.”

“Agreed. We’re lucky to have Brigadier Borks here.”

I sent a pulse of gratitude Borks’s way, and he sent his love back. I could practically see the way his tail was wagging in my mind’s eye. I leaned around the trunk of the lemon tree, spying Barry as he reached for another particularly fat lemon.

“So, were you gonna tell me about what you got up to last night?”

“I have no idea what you mean. I just had a night in with the family, and...” He let the words trail off, letting out a sigh. “You’re sure you want to know?”

I grinned.

“Very much so, especially after Theo told me it was something I could use.”

Barry rolled his eyes.

“Would have been nice for Theo to give me a heads up on that particular detail.”

I puffed out my chest and rolled my shoulders back.

“Sounds to me like he has his priorities straight, my man. Lucky for you, I’m a benevolent god, so shan’t smite you for not being more forthcoming with information.”

I caught the lemon thrown at my head and let out an indignant gasp.

“From casual insubordination to overt assault? Well, I have never. Keep it up, young man, and I’ll be informing your wife.”

“You wouldn’t...”

“Hmmm. Perhaps I wouldn’t, but only in exchange for some information. If only there were something you could tell me. Something I didn’t know and desperately want to learn of...”

“Oh. Like the workshops I created last night in the church? Is that something that would interest you?”

My jaw dropped open, and I blinked at the smug look on his face.

“You’re serious?”

“I certainly am.”

“Workshops? What kind of workshops?”

“Oh, you know, nothing too impressive.” He made a dismissive gesture with one hand. “Just a tailoring room, a woodworking shop, a smithy—”

“A smithy?” I interrupted, yelling. “Do Fergus and Duncan know?”

“Know? They’re in there right now, working on cages.”

My mouth practically salivated at the idea.

“What’s in there?”

Barry went on to describe a room filled with what sounded like a mountain of different tools. When he mentioned there were two forges powered by System shenanigans, my jaw dropped open. I had spent plenty of time in the smithy of late, and I couldn’t help but picture the joy that the smiths must have had when they first set eyes on the room. Moreover, the lack of metal for oyster cages was the only thing gatekeeping the acquisition of more pearls, so having two forges fueled by chi or the System or whatever was a massive boon.

“That’s wild, mate... I can’t wait to see it.”

“It’s even more impressive than what I’m describing, Fischer. I don’t really understand anything about blacksmithing, but I know Fergus and Duncan are beyond chuffed with it.”

“What about the woodworking and tailoring rooms?”

He described their features, both of which were just as impressive as the smithy. I shook my head.

“I can hardly believe what I’m hearing, mate.”

He gave me a pride-filled grin.

“You’ll have to come see it for yourself, then.”

“Hang on,” I said, raising a finger. “I cut you off before. What else is down there?”

“Oh, right. I almost forgot. There’s a tannery for Ellis, too.”

My eyebrows furrowed.

“A tannery? Like... a solarium?”

“What on Kallis is a solarium?”

“You know—a place to tan.”

“A place to tan?”

“Yeah. Your skin?” I pointed at my browned arm. “Tan. I know Ellis has a buff bod now, but I didn’t take him for the type to work on his complexion.”

Barry shook his head, sheer incomprehension plastering his face. “No, Fischer, I don’t mean a place to tan. What are you even...” He stilled, giving me a flat stare. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

I gave him a smile so wide that my cheeks hurt.

“Would I do that, Barry? Mess with you for my amusement?”

“Yes. Often and flagrantly.”

My grin widened even more, and he shook his head. Before I could say anything to make Barry more disappointed with me, a bark grabbed our attention. Borks sat on the grass beside Roger, whose chin was raised and gaze fixed on us. His eyes were red‌ and puffy, but his face was resolute.

“I’ve reached a decision.”

Barry and I shared a glance, then I turned back to Roger.

“Er... that’s good, mate. But what decision are you talking about?”

“The only one there is to make.” He breathed deep, firming his shoulders and standing taller. “I want you to make me into a cultivator.”