Poisonous Fox

John Joenson took a furtive glance at the girl walking besides him. He tried his best not to ogle her, but he had a hard time not. This was the first time he had ever been on a date, and he was determined to score big.

His dad had given him some pocket change for a date, something to impress the girl, not that he needed any help, of course! Well, maybe a little help was nice. He did tend to blurt things out, at least their farmhands had told him he did.

One thing he knew though, was that if he wanted to impress anyone, then he absolutely needed to take charge. Which was why he was leading the way, as boldly as he could, while still glancing at Jackie every chance he got. Not because he was nervous he would lose her in the crowd. No, of course not that!

Really, she was lucky to have caught the Ol’ Joenson eye.

But not ogling her was hard! It was just… she was so exotic looking!

Even travel-worn, she was still beautiful. That was probably why John Senior Joenson decided to humor John Junior’s attempt at romance. That, and forming some of those critical life skills John Senior always talked about.

That lush lilac hair though… he stared dreamily… so full and rich, and probably soft when freshly washed and shampooed. John Junior could just imagine running his hands through it.

And then he had a naughty thought. If her hair were naturally that color…

Hooh boy!

He blushed and turned his face away before she saw him and divined his thoughts.

Shaking that thought aside before he pitched a tent, he reminded himself to focus on making a good impression. But that was hard. Because a city-girl like Jackie Stillson had to have seen it all before. She lived in Southbridge, for crying out loud!

But!

John had a thought about that. He figured that she would have been kept too busy, too mired in the daily grind for her to really appreciate all the sights.

And so, for their first stop, he was taking her to the best outlook on the green, which was how locals called any part of the public domain. It was some dumb saying inherited from before the Shattering, at least according to his tutor. It was dumb though.

They were walking along the highway, on the good side of town. The sidewalk was wide and open, with some fun stalls lining the parks and middle-class shops. Some people liked to call it the ‘mall,’ but that was a dumb name too, at least, John had always thought so. It should have been called the promenade, at least, that was what his dad always said.

Oh! Oh! That reminded him of a funny.

He pointed down at the highway, where the road was carved straight through the city, maybe ten yards down. Of course, it was kept at a lower elevation both to even out everyone’s journey, and to provide defense in case of an invasion. Or more importantly, to make sure the Crown collected their toll. But anyways! The highway was sunken, and for good reason.

Still pointing at it, and making sure he had Jackie’s attention.

“It’s called the highway,” he started. “But really, it should have been called the low-way, right?” He smiled at Jackie and winked. “Because of the elevation! It’s lower!” He chuckled at his own joke, just glad to have shared it. He made sure to watch for her reaction though!

She looked away, towards the shops they were passing. Some of the muscles in her face twitched, likely hiding an improper laugh.

Nailed it! He thought, patting himself on the back.

A half hour later, they were reaching the outlook. It was a bit crowded for John’s tastes, but he could understand that. A lot of people came to the spot, it had the best view afterall! Still too many people though.

Rather than focus on the crowds, and the smell, and the noise, he focused on the park.

The promenade split off from the highway as it neared the bridge, and went around the bridge’s towers and gates, before terminating in a large park.

While he might be somewhat used to greenery, the trees and flowers and grass were a nice change of pace from the fields of grain and greenhouses.

It looked like even Jackie was unused to the view though. He caught Jackie looking around at the trees and grass, mouth slightly agape.

He knew it!

She had been kept indoors or busy running errands that she never had the chance to enjoy the finer parts of Southbridge! And if that was the case, then she certainly would have never enjoyed the view from the end of the park.

He wanted to take her there next. He tried getting her attention, but she was too busy taking everything in.

Some men might have felt dismayed at being ignored, but not John! Because this was a perfect chance to get closer. It was risky, though. So, so risky. But, no guts, no glory. He chewed the inside of this lip in worry and doubt, before he decided to just go for it.

He reached over and tugged on Jackie’s elbow, startling her.

“C’mon!” he said, before she could say anything else. “The best part is this way!” He finished as he led her onward.

And she followed!

And he had touched her! So soft and warm! He could just imagine waking up next to her after a long night of passion…

As he daydreamed, they walked past the greens and out onto a cantilevered glass and metal decking, overlooking the chasm. Directly below their feet? Glass. Below that? Metal. Below that? Hooh boy! The Firmament! Though that part was at least a couple miles down. It changed day to day.

Jackie seemed taken by the view.

Truth be told, so was John, at least when he stopped thinking about Jackie for a second.

He was leaning against the railing, feeling the wind tussle his hair, and watching it run its fingers through hers.

She was marveling at all the activity lining the gorge all the way down.

A network of ramps and elevators and tunnels, known collectively as the quarry. It was one of those industries that was allowed into the nice part of town. Or rather, under it. John briefly wondered if the miners ever dug up into someone’s cellar by mistake. That would be fun! Well, maybe. It depended on what crawled up after.

Jackie finally found her words.

“What are… are… Is that mist?” She asked, getting a view of the Firmament below.

What sort of question was that? John might be a bit slow, but he was never that slow. Maybe he and her would be an even better match than he had thought? It was nice to be the one with the answers for once.

“Those aren’t mists,” he answered, giving his best impression of a knowing smile.

“Then what are they?” she asked. “They certainly look like them.”

He laughed. “That they do. They also look like the clouds above us! But that’s the Firmament for you.”

Her lips twitched. “And what is the Firmament?”

He rolled his eyes. Now she was hamming it up to make him feel good. Even he knew that. But! This was another good sign!

“The edge of the world, duh!” he said with a laugh. “You feeling hungry? Maybe thirsty?”

She shrugged, “I could eat.”

“That settles it! C’mon!”

He began leading her back towards the promenade, and then towards the wealthier part of town. Well, they still had a ways to go before they got to the really good stuff, but the town progressively improved the further from the highway they went.

Soon, they arrived at a market place where most of the guilds had offices. John could never admire the place enough. There were stalls set up in one quadrant, selling all manner of overflow from the incoming caravans, most of them from the south. They even had a fresh batch of kunbeorn, ready for purchase, though most likely would be shipped further north at a later date.

The plaza had the best prices though, at least on imported goods.

“Wonder if we need anymore hands…” John muttered to himself, thinking of his father. Maybe, if John saved enough coin for later, he could have a nice surprise for him. It would certainly make some chores easier.

Besides the crowds around the stalls, there were also the guild fronts. The Mercs, the Caravaneers, the Artificers, the Alchemists, even the Guard. If there was a sanctioned guild, then they had a front on the plaza, even if it was the size of a booth.

John realized with a fright that he had been ignoring Jackie as they looked over the crowds and the goods. He caught her eye.

Her expression was unusually stern.

Maybe she was bored?

He winced, and remembered that she was a merchant herself. Of course she would be bored here. This was where she probably normally worked or ran errands.

“Pretty used to this place, then?” he asked, scrambling for a way to salvage the date. Worst case, she would leave early and go home, or back to whatever house she worked for. He needed to distract her somehow. “Still hungry?” A hopeful tone laced his voice.

She nodded. She had already said as much.

Why was he so stupid! He hit himself on the forehead. Food was easy. They had been passing by a ton of food stalls, and the smells had been enticing, but he wanted to take her to someplace special, someplace that would sear itself into her memory. Especially since any old eatery was the same as another, and there would be no reason to prolong the date if they stopped at the nearest food vendor.

No, it had to be special, John decided.

And there was only one place he had heard about from his friends, and from his dad, that was both nice, and appropriate for a date. One that would leave an impression.

That would wow Jackie Stillson.

He decided to take her to a restaurant up on the hill, in the nobel quarter, a place called, Ma’Ritz.

The things he had heard about the place made his own belly rumble. They had had a long day. He gave Jackie a shy grin.

“Well, I know a place that’s really good. Worth the hike. Wanna keep going?”

She shrugged, although her eyes lingered on the market stalls. Was there something that she wanted specifically? It might make a good gift for later, he thought. But then again, looking at the crowded stalls, he really thought coming back at a calmer hour might be the best bet for shopping.

Soon, they departed the plaza, passing onto Mercs Quarry, which was another wide march that outfitted most of the well-to-do mercenaries and adventurer types, though the latter were mostly just successful bandits, at least according to his father.

As he was jostled about in the crowds though, he saw another opportunity for physical contact with Jackie.

He reached out and grabbed her forearm, hanging onto her this time.

She recoiled just a bit before realizing it was him to have touched her.

“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t want to lose you here. It’s so busy.”

After a pause, she gave another shrug and relaxed.

“You just surprised me is all.”

He forced a smile, understanding that she was likely on edge, just the same as him.

They made it past Mercs Quarry, into Mustering Square, and then finally, they reached the main boulevard heading up onto Blossom Hill.

Very well-to-do folks were taking their daily strolls along the sidewalk, enjoying the safety and the sight of the flowered gardens. The flowers were all imported from the south, though there might have been a few from the marshes too, not that he would know the difference. He had only ever been there a few times, and only when he accompanied his father on business.

As they reached the inlet though, one of the Baron’s men approached. They were the self appointed peace-keepers, but they had nothing on the Knights. Largely, the Baron’s men were there to collect their ‘honest dues.’

“You and the miss know where you’re going?” the guard asked.

The guard wore a red jacket with some golden filigree, marking him as somewhat important in the garrison, or at least, one that cleaned up well enough to take a public posting.

“Sure do, sir,” John said. “Need anything?”

“...maybe,” the guard said, eyeing both John and Jackie with suspicion. Jackie surprisingly never squirmed under the attention, another mark in her favor. A Joenson could never show a soft hand, else there would be problems.

John pulled a Charger from his pocket and tossed it. “Honest pay for honest work,” he said, attempting the same phrase he had heard his own father utter plenty of times.

The guard smirked, pocketing the Charger.

“That it is,” the guard said. “Name?” he asked.

“Joenson,” John gave his surname with no small amount of pride.

“Yeah?” The guard asked, recognizing him. “Didn’t bring any nip with you?”

John shook his head at the slang-word for something that was very impolite. However, the man had asked a question, so he answered. “Left the infused stuff at the granaries. Nothing raw though.”

“Shame… but for the best. On you get.” The guard went back to his post, leaning in the shade against a trellis.

Jackie seemed to question what the ‘nip’ had been all about. Did she not realize what the Joensons grew? If so, then he would let her remain ignorant for a while longer. Because while the stuff was a must for pacifying and reducing the suffering of beasts folk, the substances could easily be abused. Shameful, really. Put a bad twist on everything.

He decided to remove the suspicion from the air, and gave a playful bow to Jackie.

“After you,” he said.

Jackie scoffed, almost laughed.

Nailed it!

They kept going, passing through the trellis lined entryway, and onto what was officially the nobel district. It was all at a higher elevation than everything else, commanding better views, and cleaner air. But despite the fact that the nobel district, and Blossom Hill in particular, were elevated, the ascent was gradual and easy, with a circuitous route leading the way.

There were several shortcuts and cut-throughs, with stairs going straight to the next level, but the scenic route was what John decided to go with. More time to get to know each other, was his reasoning.

He did notice Jackie taking it all in, especially the narrow alleys where shops and boutiques took care of their less than savory business.

“Come here often?” John asked, still struggling to get the girl to engage steadily.

“Hm?” she asked, glancing away from a rare independent artificery. “Oh, yes. Just lost in thought.” She pointed at a larger building overlooking much of the hill, spreading up and down several switchbacks worth of the boulevard.

“Ever been there?” she asked, pointing at a commanding structure.

“The Academy?” he said, surprised she would have brought it up. Everyone knew that landmark, so she must have been asking something else in specific. This was corroborated when her eyes widened fractionally at his answer. “No, the Joensons don’t need that sort of education for what we do,” he explained.

On the next lap of the switchback, they came across the Academy entrance. The entire institution was rather spectacular, with delicate silver columns holding up a spiraling tower. The base of it though, all leveled and bleak stone, formed an almost cliff towards the lower parts of the city. That was the way of it though. Palatial to the rich, a fortress against the masses. Or something like that. He was fairly sure he had butchered the saying.

When they passed a group of students, mostly boys, loitering on the steps leading into the academy, John felt a pang of jealousy. When he felt their questioning glances, their judgemental whispers, he hastened Jackie along.

Shaking his head, to clear the thoughts, he reminded himself and Jackie both of what they were all about.

“Almost there,” John said.

Jackie nodded, still glancing about curiously. John figured she might not have been sent up into the neighborhood too often. Maybe she really had worked with the Pit? She seemed too nice for that though. He still thought his father had been wrong about that though. There was just no way.

Soon he was brought forth from his musings. They were reaching near the summit of Blossom Hill, where it leveled out a bit, and near the secondary, slightly taller hill, where the baron himself resided.

It was then that John caught scent of it: A heady fragrance. He had heard about that. And had been looking out for it. He inhaled deeply through his nose and let loose a heavy sigh. Jackie gave him a curious look, which left John stunned. Had he really smelled it first? Normally the infusion process left his senses a bit deadened, or so he had thought. Just how bad was Jackie’s nose?

But finally, the fragrance caught Jackie’s attention. She sniffed.

“What… what am I smelling?” she asked, pursing her lips and frowning, her brows pinching together. It was an adorable expression, one that John wished he could remember forever.

“You’ll see,” John said, giving a sly grin.

It was ten steps after that that they came in view of their destination: Ma’Ritz.

The restaurant, tavern, hotel, and brothel, all at the same time. It was the finest place open to the majority of well-to-dos. Most of the district frequented the place, and on special occasions, even the lower classes were known to splurge.

It had even been rumored that some fool had taken on debt just to live a ‘final night’ there, as it were. Of course, when the Pit caught up with that fool… well, John hoped it had been worth it.

The front of the establishment was painted in the baron’s colors, red and black, but with specs of blue and teal as well, denoting independence from any single family. The double doorways were mahogany, with tasteful carvings worked in. Side windows were open, and somehow vented the best smells of the kitchen out along the boulevard.

It was a presence that almost rivaled the Academy. Almost.

Or perhaps, John was just that hungry.

Upon entering, they were waved through by a very friendly girl with a bluish tint to her skin. John wondered if that was a deviation, or a cosmetic. He still remembered the chewing out his father had given him about asking Jackie about her deviation. It was a taboo subject, he had been encouraged to recall. Regardless, she was quick to serve and guide them to a table near the tavern.

It was clear that they were in the more boisterous, less private, dining area, where the prices were cheaper. He hoped. But even if the prices were cheaper near the bar, John thought the place had that expensive feel to it. It had carpets for crying out loud! But that was good, because if he thought the place was expensive, then Jackie certainly did. That meant the plan was working. And from the way Jackie kept eyeing up the decorations and clientele, John would say he nailed it. Again.

The tavern seemed rowdy, with boisterous men and women taking late lunches and sharing drinks with friends. Once again, John felt some jealousy. If he lived in the city, he could come to such a place with his friends too!

He gave a chagrined smile when Jackie caught him watching the patrons.

“Been here before?” Jackie asked.

“First time,” John confessed. “But I’ve heard amazing things. You? Your master bring you here?”

She shrugged noncommittally.

John would have furthered up on that line of dialogue, because he was fairly sure that this was her first time, but the same blue-tinted girl came back. She was certainly on the smaller side. And now that John really examined her, he thought that there was something off with her. Her face just seemed too smooth.

Likely a cosmetic effect then, he decided.

“What might I bring you to drink today?” the blue tinted girl asked.

Jackie’s gaze fell heavily upon John, causing him to cough and blush. Being put on the spot was rough! “Uhm–” he started.

“-Would the sir prefer a menu?” the server offered.

“Yes, please!” John said, feeling relieved.

Jackie scoffed and shook her head slightly. John hoped that once drinks started coming, along with the food, that things would recover. As it was, he just felt like an out of place fool. And it seemed that some of the regulars were watching him, or Jackie, and that left him feeling even more nervous. The attention would take some getting used to, he decided. But he could do this.

He was a Joenson, afterall.

Soon, the menu came back, and John gave it a look, feeling another squirm in his belly. None of the prices were listed on the sheet of paper. And the quality of the cardstock was impeccable and thick, likely single use.

Jackie arched an eyebrow, glancing at him and the menu. She seemed to know what he was thinking.

This was his chance, that look said. Either go hard or go home. So… he went hard.

When the serving girl came back, John ordered their first round of drinks, two molten mules. It looked good, sweet, spicy, and strong. He hoped that it would help facilitate a better evening.

When the drinks came, Jackie’s face lit up at the first sip.

John tried his, but it left his tongue burning. “Molten wasn’t a joke,” he huffed.

“The kick’s nice,” Jackie admitted, her voice just a bit huskier, likely from the drink itself coating her pipes. John doubted it would have kicked in that fast, afterall.

Soon after, John ordered for both of them, and Jackie had another molten mule.

“It was well described,” Jackie added nonchalantly, glancing at John’s twisted expression with clear amusement.

The conversation floundered until the meal came. He had ordered them the house special, and he was glad he did. Because when the meal came, the steaming plates smelled royal. John’s mouth salivated. The drinks might have been a bust, too spicy, too strong, but this? This food was heretically good. It was traditional fare, tubers and gravy with thick slices of sauced bread.

John was digging into his own dish when he glanced over and saw Jackie pushing around the tubers. Was she scowling at her plate?

He paused in shoveling another sopping bite and cleared his mouth enough to speak. “What’s the matter?” he asked, with only a few flecks of food flying. “Don’t like it?”

Jackie winced, shaking her head and pushing the plate gently aside.

“Huh,” John said, finishing his bite. “Well, don’t wanna waste it. Mind if I finish?” he asked, his stomach still with room enough.

She pushed the plate further across the table and took her cup with both hands.

“Thanks!” John said, beaming with only a little bit of pepper stuck to his teeth.

The serving girl came back as he was picking his teeth clean, discreetly of course! He used a napkin to cover his actions. When the server came back, she saw both plates before John and she frowned.

“Is something the matter?” the serving girl asked.

John, still cleaning a piece of stubborn crud stuck in his gums, took a second to answer. Meanwhile, Jackie took the initiative, which left John somewhat worried that the date had taken another turn.

“Do you have something with more meat?” Jackie asked.

The serving girl frowned, and John’s eyes widened a bit.

Meat? What kind of meat was this girl used to eating?

Jackie continued on, unaware of the scandalous statement. “More spice, perhaps? I thought I smelled something good from back in the kitchen, but I haven’t seen that out front.”

Maybe she meant a meat substitute?

“Uh… sure! I’ll check,” the girl said, hustling back.

“Did you mean for a fungal instead?” John asked, after a bit.

“Hm?” Jackie asked, head tilted. “Oh, no. I meant meat.”

This time, she did notice John’s wince. But before John could explain where meat came from, and why it was almost taboo, the serving girl returned with a platter that held a single skewer. A long wooden stick with several brown and striated pieces marked by both grill and flame.

John’s stomach churned in a bad way when he saw the platter set down before Jackie.

How much was that going to cost? He wondered.

“From the chef’s own stock,” the serving girl explained, noticing several dubious glances from the nearest patrons.

Jackie thanked her and took the skewer, her eyes wide, and drool practically leaking from the side of her mouth. “This smells phenomenal,” she murmured, before nibbling off a bit of the topmost piece.

John gulped.

“Anything else for the sir?” the server asked.

John shook his head slightly, feeling somewhat faint. Jackie took another bite.

“Very well, I will return.” The server turned to help several of the other patrons. One of the regulars, a thickset woman with heavy cheeks, was watching in fascination as Jackie ate.

“I’ll take another round,” the thickset woman ordered, before nodding to a giant of a man who accompanied her. “Same for him.”

The server hustled off, while Jackie began tearing into the meat with force. By the time the server returned with drinks for the other patrons, Jackie had finished tossing back her own liquor, and was now pointing at John’s drink.

John frowned in confusion. “This… these are strong you know? Are you sure you don’t wanna pace yourself a bit?” his voice trailed off at a higher note.

Jackie rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fine,” she said. “I passed you my meal, the least you can do is share your drink. You're just wasting it now.”

John winced, but she had a point. He slid his drink over, and she tossed that back, setting the empty cup down.

“How many is that?” the thicker woman asked John and Jackie, though Jackie ignored her for the drink instead.

“That makes three for her,” John said with a wince.

The woman whistled. “For a little thing, she sure can hold ‘em.”

When the server came back around, the giant of a man cheered. “Get the girl another round!”

Just how much did these drinks cost?! John guessed he could dip into some of his savings. And if it was too bad, he could send the bill to his dad? Sure, his dad would whip him good if that happened.

Three drinks turned to four.

Four to five.

Eventually, the thickset woman and the giant of the man joined Jackie and John at the table, and they began an impromptu drinking contest. They had switched from the molten mule to shots, and they tossed them back before cheering and slamming the glasses top-side down on the table, cheering.

It drew more attention, and soon several onlookers had gathered around.

The server was having to push through the crowd just to deliver the drinks. And during all of this, John was stuck sitting at the table, in the middle of the attention, all without drinking anything stronger than ale.

He felt incredibly out of place, but he was not about to drink to oblivion while away from the safety of home. That would be the definition of foolishness, and his dad had warned him plenty.

Another round of shots. Another round of cheering, of clapping, of judgemental stares at the lout sitting at the table who refused to partake in the festivities.

This was too much.

And it kept going and going. The faces blurred together. He tried grabbing Jackie’s attention, but she was lost in the haze. She must have been. She was just… ignoring him! It must have been the drink.

A lout clapped him on the shoulder. Leered over him. They were all pressing in.

Another shot, another cheer. Another shove. Someone shoved him? Why? Malicious? Because he chose to remain sober?

It was too, too much–he had to–he fell from the chair, stumbling, pushing his way from the crowd. He half expected Jackie to follow, to at least say something. But she never called after him. None of the patrons cared that he left. The server girl was harried.

It was… why? Things had been going well, had they not?

He needed some fresh air, to clear his head.

That was it.

The fumes from the liquor, from all the people, pushing in on him.

He stepped further away from the crowd, and felt even better. Each step improved his mood. He exited the tavern, nobody stopped him.

The night air felt good. So good, in fact, that he kept stepping, walking back down the boulevard, leaving Blossom Hill. As he reached the bottom, he realized his pouch was still full of Chargers, that he was shy of a date, and that Jackie would likely think very poorly of him. That was, if she remembered him at all.

It was… probably for the best. He could have gone back. But at that point, that would be even more awkward. And Jackie seemed content enough with her new friends. Really, he was probably doing her a favor.

What he really needed to do was to think of something to tell his father.