City Shopkeeper

“One cockatrice omelet, a sugar loaf, and two glasses of mana plum juice.”

Ali squints at a pad of parchment, scribbling notes.

“Jett, ya finished yet?!” Rhena’s voice howls from the restaurant’s rear.

“A-almost!” He carries a wobbly pile of dishes, inching toward the kitchen.

“Anything else I can get you folks?” Ali looks up, smiling at the table of patrons.

The morning breakfast rush. I watch from the open kitchen, our crew scurrying like ants. It’s the launch of Rhena’s new menu, and we’ve been enlisted to help—drafted into her army. Leena mans the frying pans. Khalid wields a knife, slaughtering onions. Jett cleans tables like a field medic dressing wounds. Ali does battle with customers. I wash dishes, sweat trickling down my forehead.

And over it all, Rhena watches with a satisfied smile on her wrinkled lips. Omar lies draped over her shoulders, the yellow serpent hissing and tasting the air.

[You missed a spot.] Lapio lounges atop my head like a glowing blue turban.

“How ‘bout you grab a rag and start scrubbing?” I mutter.

[I’m supervising.]

Scooping bubbles from the sink, I plop them between his ears. A crown for the kitchen king. A sultan of suds.

[Ack!] He swats, grumbling and squealing. Leena giggles, snatching the latest order from Ali.

We aren’t trained kitchen staff, but you wouldn’t know it. Under Rhena’s tutelage, she’s whipped us into shape…or at least brought us to a passing grade. It reminds me of our crash course in courtly etiquette before the Sultan’s gala. It’s hard to believe it’s already been two months since that wild day…

Life moves fast when you’re busy. Each morning begins when pink rays rise over the dunes, casting shadows behind the soaring walls of Dan’tar. It begins when we crawl from our underground lair, stretching, yawning, and shuffling to the Roost—our magnificent stall. Even now, I still get giddy when I look up at its blue and white striped canopy. Its display boxes and shelves are pedestals for treasure…showcases for our craft.

“Here ya go, bud.” Jett arrives in the kitchen, setting his pile of dishes with care.

Compressed low to the floor, Plum waits, beady black eyes sparkling with excitement. Face flung back, his jaw hangs open like a garbage can—a trash incinerator.

“Glooooop…” A grateful gurgle rumbles while Jett scrapes leftover food off the plates, dropping into our bright red disposal unit.

“Rawp? Rawp!” A puff of fire flares on Jett’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Baki. I won’t forget.” He smiles, tearing a piece of toast and holding it for his fireball newt.

It vanishes, inhaled by the tiny orange creature. He catches me staring, launching off Jett’s shoulder and landing smack on my head, assuming Lapio’s throne.

Yes…we might be helping Rhena for the morning, but some things never change. A slime is always hungry. A fireball newt is never still. And a merchant…she’s always plotting her next sale.

In the months following our debut at the palace, we set to work, filled with renewed energy. The first stop was the harbor. We scoured the stalls, settling on discounted crates of sea sponges. It was an odd choice, but Lapio assured me he had a plan.

When he directed us to the import master’s office and started recommending trade routes, I began to get it. He smacked a paw on a wall-mounted map, nose twitching with excitement. A shipment of flower petals and artisan soaps from Toronor. Salts and scented oils from Galanta.

Khalid perked up when the first caravans arrived. He snatched the fragrances, immediately mixing and matching. Then came my time to shine. Wielding the ancient art of fusionism, I combined the ingredients, blessing salt and soap with fresh scents. The flower petals imbued the sponges with vibrant, irresistible colors.

Our bath product shop was born.

At the next Grand Bazaar, goods flew off the shelves. It took work, but the harvest was worth it. Our coin pouch grew heavy with important funding. Soaps and sponges are nice, but they were merely a means to an end—a way to capture coin for our next venture. It’s been brewing in the back of my mind. An expensive, dangerous mission…

“Aaaand…perfect!” Leena slides a cockatrice omelet from the frying pan, garnishing the dish with broiled cherry tomatoes and a sprig of rosemary.

“That’s the last of ‘em.” Rhena peers over the counter, surveying her dining room the way a monarch admires her realm.

“I was just getting the hang of it!” Khalid brandishes his knife, gesturing to a mountain of diced onions.

“Thanks for hopping in at such short notice.” Rhena turns to the group. “When the staff came down with slime flu, I nearly had a panic attack. A nasty bug traveling around Dan’tar lately.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I smile. “It’s the least we can do.”

“And everyone loves the new menu! I, uh, might’ve snagged a sugar loaf during my break. Moist and dense!” Ali grins.

Rhena’s eyes narrow.

But she relaxes.

“Well, thanks again, dearies. I can handle it from here. Atlas should be stopping by to help, so you’re dismissed. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

We nod and hang our aprons just as Atlas meanders through the front door. His lightweight robe is stained down the front with colorful streaks—spilled syrup from his snow cone stand. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a fashion choice. Not a bad look.

“Mornin’, Sera. Mornin’, Leena. Mornin’, Khalid, Ali, Plum, and Baki.” He greets each of us as we exit. His muffled voice echoes while we step into the warm air. “Rhena! Are those sugar loaves?! By the gods, I can’t work on an empty stomach. Mind if I swipe one or—?”

The door slams behind us.

A golden sun hangs in the cloudless sky. It rains onto dry, cracked sandstone, surrounding us in gentle warmth. Shadows flicker overhead while we walk—swarms of El’sorian hummingbirds migrating to nest near the coast. Down below, throngs of shoppers bustle between camels and shellback caravans. We may be in the desert, but our city teems with life.

We walk together, passing the narrow alleyway with the Coop’s secret entrance under a loose stone. Jett skips ahead while Khalid and Ali argue the merits of cockatrice vs ostrich omelets. Leena peers into storefronts, eyes lingering on baked goods. Plum slurps a pebble off the ground.

Another typical day. Much work to be done.

[Looks like the scholars are on break.] Lapio points to a cluster of men in green robes lingering near a food stall.

They nibble pita wraps while sparkling creatures levitate over their heads. Parrots, mice, and a crystalback wavesurfer…their djinn all sport an erudite aura. The bond between a spirit wielder and their djinn is as old as El’sor itself. For most, the glittering creatures are inherited within noble families, cementing a gifted upper class. Not a day goes by that I’m not grateful for Lapio’s companionship. I beat the odds.

And ever since repaying my kobold loan, my stress levels have plummeted. He’s here for good. Business partners for life.

“Should we join them?” I look up into his beady eyes. “A morning trip to the library?”

[And miss a beautiful day? No, no. I’m made for the markets, not the study halls.]

“Hmm…I’d expect more from a noble rabbit. That’s not very cultured.”

His whiskers bristle.

“I’ll never get used to it.” Leena glances at the two of us. “It’s like you’re talking to the sky.”

She’s right. As the only one who can hear Lapio, I’ve got an important role to play…though I sometimes wish I could tune him out.

[I’ll have you know, I was first amongst my peers in mathematics. Fancy tutors and tomes…psh! A true prodigy learns by doing! Now, I might not be the best reader…or the best at paying attention…but have you ever seen someone manipulate numbers with such ease? Not to mention a photographic memory. I once counted every spine on a desert cactus, just to prove to a scholar that…]

My eyes glaze over while he rambles. We wind down city streets, shoving through crowds, but Lapio doesn’t let me off the hook.

[…and that’s how I learned to track human stats! Behold! Behold!]

Glittering gold materializes in my vision, swirling and warping into floating words and numbers—a complete breakdown of my career.

I scan down the list, letting out a deep, exaggerated sigh.

“Yep, Lapio. You proved me wrong. You sure are competent. A mathematical genius.”

He puffs up, paws on his hips while wearing a satisfied smirk.

We finally arrive outside the stall. Soap and salt residue rests in wooden display boxes and on tall shelves. The striped canopy flutters in the breeze, iron lanterns swaying beneath each corner. Far down the street, I spot Laz scrubbing the inside of a barrel, his pink wolf djinn chattering overhead. Seems we have something in common.

“Alright, team. Let’s get to work.” Leena steps forward, thrusting a finger in the air and taking charge. “We’ve got a mission to complete. Everyone remember what Sera told you?”

The group nods, recalling our latest meeting. Once the bath products were sold, I filled them in on the plan I’ve been cooking. Everyone’s on board. It’s ambitious. More extreme than anything we’ve done before…

“Jett, broom duty. Ali, cleaning display boxes. Plum and Baki…er, pest control!” She barks orders. “Sera and Khalid, fetch water and rags from the Coop.”

“Task accepted.” I salute.

“You got it.” Khalid nods.

We set off, footsteps tapping on sandstone streets. Khalid’s red vest shines in the sunlight like a lush rose…but the faintest of seams catches my eye.

“Khalid…did you snag your clothes?” I point.

“O-oh!” His eyes widen. “Is it that obvious? I tried mending it myself. Guess I’ve still gotta practice…”

“No! I can barely see it. Wow!” I glance at his burly, hairy hands, struggling to imagine them threading a needle. “So you’re a tailor now?”

“J-just a hobby. Something I practice. Ya know, between workin’ the stall and liftin’ weights.” His cheeks glow pink. “It can be art, ya know? Those nice robes the nobles wear…sometimes I dream…”

His words trail off while he looks away.

“Yeah. I understand. It can be art.” I smile.

“But it’s just a silly thing. I could never make anything like that,” he mumbles.

Perhaps to his relief, we arrive at the Coop’s secret entrance. My braid touches the ground while I crouch, hands moving automatically—trained after years living in the shadows. They grip the large, loose brick, my forearms tensing while it slides like butter. The ground opens, a black, shadowy void marking the ancient tunnel systems of Dan’tar…a world acknowledged only in the history books.

I plop inside, Khalid following with a heavy thud. A beam of light shines through the hole, particles of dust dancing in the air current. As I slide the stone back into place, darkness wraps itself around our bodies, broken only by faint, stray rays in cracks overhead.

“Where’d I put it…?” Khalid’s hands smack the stone walls, searching for the torch.

A burst of orange light fills the tunnel as his fingers make contact, activating an illumination crystal mounted to a stick.

He sets off, leading the way toward the Coop’s central chamber. We crouch, the ceiling low and oppressive. The floor slopes, burrowing deep under the busy metropolis above. Sounds from the surface world fade, leaving only footsteps, breathing, and the sound of my beating heart.

“Ya know, I saw Plum in the alley last night talking to a pair of street slimes,” Khalid says while we move. “They were jiggling like gelatin desserts.”

“Glad he’s making friends.”

“Seemed like they were trading pebbles and bottlecaps. I didn’t get a good look though. They scattered when they saw me. Strange, eh? You ever wonder what it’s like to be a slime? Ya know, not having arms or legs or—”

He cuts off and freezes.

“Ack!” I bump into his mountainous back. “What gives?”

He doesn’t reply. His silhouette trembles while pressing against the wall, slouching low.

“I…I heard somethin’.” He points down the tunnel.

“Relax. Nobody knows about this place besides us.” I pat his shoulder. “Maybe Rhena dropped some supplies down.”

“No. It was a voice.” His eyes widen. “You don’t think…from the lower tunnels? Or ghosts they say live down here?”

“Khalid, I’ve lived here for years. The tunnel monsters stay down where it’s cold, and the ghosts are just a story.” I reach out, snatching the torch. “C’mon. I’ll prove it.”

“If…if you say so.”

His burly form rises, following behind me and using my frame as a human shield. It reminds me of our adventure into the Cobalt Grotto. For someone so powerful, he’s got a major weakness—crumbles in the dark.

“But yeah, I wouldn’t mind being a slime. Not sure about the diet though. Rocks, beetles, garbage, and—”

I round a corner and come to a screeching halt. Khalid slams into my back, sending me tumbling toward a ghastly sight. The Coop’s circular chamber lies before us, crystalline lamps bolted to the walls. They cast pale light onto our hammocks, our cauldron, and the domed ceiling high overhead. They illuminate faded palm trees, desert butterflies, wispy spirits, and other hieroglyphs on the walls.

But that isn’t what’s unusual.

No…standing at the chamber’s center, a pale, ethereal figure stares. I squint and shield my eyes from the black silhouette with a brilliant purple light on its shoulder. Wild, messy white hair comes into view. Brilliant blue eyes shine. Long fingers pull a black bandanna from its face, exposing sharp, sparkling white teeth.

They clench into a smile.

I relax.

[INDIVIDUAL IDENTIFIED: Kuba Lunglade]

“Breaking and entering?!” I scowl, but deep inside, I don’t mind.

“It’s been a while.” He waves while the glowing purple light coalesces into the shape of a hamster wearing a headband and a utility belt. The djinn mimics his wave.

“Great galloping camels! You nearly scared me to death!” Khalid emerges from my shadow. “What’re ya doin’ here? The coin is under lock and key if that’s what you’re after!”

“I’m offended.” Kuba clutches his heart and glances at his djinn. “Does Brick look like a scoundrel to you? He’d never loot his friends.”

“But you would?” I raise an eyebrow.

Kuba doesn’t reply. He just grins.

“Well, if you aren’t raiding, then what’s the explanation?” Khalid flops onto his hammock. It squeals under his weight. “We’re busy. No time for chitchat.”

“That’s the thing…” Kuba and Brick both stand up straight, gravitas flashing across their faces. “…we’re here on business.”

“Hm?” I give a skeptical look.

“That’s right. Big moves happening in the thieves’ guild. We’re here with a proposal—an offer you can’t refuse.”