Chapter 104

Clad in Cloak

During the next two days, I explored as much of Omes Arbor as I could. Late into the night, every night, deceived by the day-like glow of the city lights. It was after midnight when I returned home on the third night. Out of habit, I woke up with the sun the following morning, though daylight barely dripped through the canopy. I equipped my newly favored dress and showed up at the bar. Kip was there.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said and blushed.

“Good morning, sir,” I said. “Did you not sleep?”

“It’s a bartender’s skill. Rest and Refresh. Allows me a few nights a month of extra sleep in half the time as usual. Helpful for when I’ve got to pull a double shift.”

“I hope Larry hasn’t made this a habit for you.”

“No, no,” Kip said. “Veronica is out, that’s why. She’s acquiring special goods for the inn. Happens twice a month. I’m compensated for the doubles. Thank you for your concern, though.”

“Glad to hear,” I said. “I’d like some breakfast. Soft boiled egg on a fresh salad would be nice. Another one of those crisp ales would be nice.”

“Right away,” Kip said.

Omes Arbor had fantastic greens. Edible flowers. Sprouts. Young shoots. The egg was perfect. The dressing was a simple spritz of lemon and vinegar. The life of my meal woke me up. I double fisted a mug of coffee alongside the crisp ale.

“How has your stay been?” Kip asked after whisking away my empty bowl and utensils.

“Omes Arbor has quickly become one of my favorite places,” I said.

“Let me guess. The trees?”

“That’s it,” I decided. “The trees.”

“Any luck with your search?”

I heaved a sigh, downed the rest of my coffee and took a swig of my ice cold crisp ale.

“I take that as a ‘no’,” Kip said with half a smile.

“He’s elusive,” I said. “The bastard. I just want to go back home. I haven’t been around this many people in many years. I don’t like it.”

“Veronica returned late yesterday,” he said. “I’m sure she might be able to help you.”

“If she’s got a clue to Hawkin’s whereabouts, I’m going to brew her a gold ranked attribute beer. Whatever she wants.”

A moment of consideration passed over Kip’s features. He chewed his bottom lip.

“Wait a minute,” Kip said. “What was the name again? Because Veronica spoke with someone last night and purchased beer from them.”

“Hawkin,” I said.

“I might have one of Hawkin’s beers,” he said and ducked beneath the bar.

He popped back up with a waterskin clutched in one hand. He tossed it onto the bar in front of me and I went wide eyed.

Branded upon the hide waterskin was the name HAWKIN. Oatmeal Stout.

I stole the waterskin from the counter and held the floppy item in both hands.

“Is… …that the one?” Kip said. “Hawkin?”

“This… …this is it,” I said.

Minutes passed. I just turned the waterskin in my hands over and over. Then, “...are you going to try it?” Kip asked.

“I-uh-umm-yes,” I said.

I ripped the cork out. Foam spilled from the neck. Foam the color of lightly toasted marshmallows.

“Veronica bought a bunch of beers from the merchant. They’re all Super Tavern quality.”

“Glass! Please!” I said.

Kip dropped two pint glasses on the bar between us. I quiered him with a glance.

“Well I’m curious too,” he said. “This’ll be on the house. Pour me a glass as well.”

I did. The malt looked black where it was thickest. Held against the light of day, a bit of mahogany shone through.

“Oatmeal stout,” I whispered.

I drank. The flavor was fair. Toasted oats. Roasted malts. Rooty. It was a nice Super Tavern ale.

“You look disappointed,” Kip said.

“Maybe,” I said softly. “I was expecting a lot more, I think. I mean—it’s nice. It’s a nice Super Tavern ale. I guess I was expecting something that would blow my socks off.”

“I’m sorry,” Kip said. A sort of deficiency pulled his smile down.

“Oh, no, no, no!” I said, waving a panicked hand at him. “It’s nothing to do with you! It has everything to do with Hawkin. He’s supposed to become a great brewer—or something. My expectations have far surpassed his capabilities… …on impressions.”

Then I squealed when it hit me.

“Oh my god,” I said. “I did it! I have another clue! Where’s Veronica? I need to talk to her! I need to find Hawkin! He was here, wasn't he? Did you see him? Do you know where he went?”

“I’ll fetch Veronica,” Kip said.

He returned with Veronica on his heels. She had a clipboard and pencil in hand.

“You had some questions for me?” She said after we introduced ourselves.

I spilled my entire quest to her.

“I’d honestly love to take a break,” she said. “Would you care to sit at a table and chat? I’ve been on my feet for the past few days. Hardly slept, too.”

She guided me to a corner table where we shared some bread and water. Then we got into it.

“I bought fourteen barrels from the man,” she said. “Fifty waterskins of two different beers.”

“Last night?” I said. “Is the man still around?”

“I understand your quest,” she said. “But the man wasn’t Hawkin. His name was Thrush. Didn’t give me a last name. Forgive me for repeating, but you said you’re new to Omes Arbor, correct?”

“That’s right,” I said.

“Omes Arbor gets a lot of traffic from the north and the east. Thousands of travelers. Even more adventurers. Since Eye of the Barred Owl is a specialty inn, we get a lot of different types of folk, if you catch my drift. Odd folk. Like Thrush.”

“How so?”

“Clad in cloak. Won’t show his face.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “I think I bumped into him! Did he stay here in your inn?”

“Larry’s inn,” Veronica said. Then she raised her voice so that it could cross the room. “Larry! The gentleman I spoke with—Thrush—has he been staying here?”

“Room 208,” Larry hollered.

Before I knew it, Veronica and Larry chased me up the stairs and down the hall to room 208.

“Miss Abigail,” Larry shouted, catching up to me. “Please respect the privacy of our guests!”

Room 208. I tried the knob. I pounded against the door. “Mr. Thrush!”

Veronica and Larry were beside me then, ushering me away from the door. I briefly struggled.

“Please, Miss Abigail,” Larry said. “Respect my patrons and establishment.”

I was so excited that I got caught up in my quest. I explained that to Larry and apologized profusely. Even though he assured me it was quite alright, his lips were pulled thin.

“As I was saying,” Larry said. “He rented out room 208. Left this morning, right before you woke up.”

“He’s gone?” I said.

Larry nodded and rushed off to greet new arrivals.

Veronica guided me back to our table, chuckling softly the whole way.

“You’re dead set on finding Hawkin,” she said.

“Tell me about Thrush,” I said. “Do you know where he went, or where he’s going?”

“Like I said, he’s a mysterious character. Deep voice. Like the usual adventurer, I suppose. Kept his hood over his face. I didn’t get a look at his features, but he was pleasant to talk to. Very flattering man, actually.” Veronica said that with a wistful smile.

“Please, Veronica,” I begged. “Is there anything else he said? Is he traveling out of town? Is he staying at another inn? Is he-”

“We bantered for a bit. He revealed that he’s looking for some sort of root for his friend. He said he spoke with Wex Hill at Poppy Wings about the root. Then he said he’s off to get what he came for.”

“Poppy Wings,” I said. “I was just there!”

“There’s more,” Veronica said. “A reputation precedes him. After he left last night, someone approached me and told me that he likes to play drinking games. If you lose, you have to drink a beer that portals you to a beautiful meadow overflowing with flowers and goblins.”

“What?” I said.

“Apparently, he goes from inn to tavern and does this. But that’s all rumored. Another man vouched for the rumor, but still.”

“I have to revisit a few places,” I said. “Listen, Veronica, thank you so much. I have to run and see if I can catch the man.”

I left in a hurry.