Brewing Bad Ch. 89-90

Ch. 89 - A Great Admirer

Lucas had no idea why a dragon would want to meet him, but it wasn’t like he had much of a choice in the matter. He didn’t have long to prepare either because the words dragon, meet, and you were followed up with another terrifying word: tomorrow. Heisenburgle might as well have said now. That would have been better. 

Instead, Lucas had to do his best to snatch at least a little shut-eye at exactly the wrong time of day. Then he had to force himself out of bed bleary-eyed first thing in the morning and try to look like he was a human being instead of the zombie that he felt he most resembled. 

Still, he got dressed in the best clothes he had available and then ate mechanically in the hope that would make him feel better. He brought nothing that even resembled a weapon with him. There was no point. He might have smuggled a bazooka with him, but he doubted that would do much to a dragon. So, since he didn’t have one of those bitchin’ wands, he didn’t bother. Instead, the provocative with him besides a silver hip flask full of healing potion and his ring. 

That’s my secret trump card, he told himself. If things looked ugly, then I can always bail out of the coach before we get where we’re going. 

So, he was doubly surprised when, after he got ready, they didn’t head north to where he’d been told the dragon’s lair was, somewhere in the Carvagian Mountains. Instead, they headed south, back toward Lordanin. Given the state of things that seemed to be able to last place, he’d find a three-story-tall red dragon, but perhaps the Prince wanted to offer him some last-minute advice on what to say or how to avoid being eaten. 

All he could do was guess because no one else was any help. Neither Heisenburgle nor any of the men that escorted would say much of anything to him on that or any other subject, lending him the feeling of a condemned man. Lucas made the best of it, and at first, he tried to snatch a cat nap, but the rocking and rumbling of the carriage made that all but impossible. Sleeping on airplanes was hard enough, but they didn’t have to contend with potholes. 

So, instead, he explored the little blue screens that it seemed only he could see in an attempt to find something else that might give him an edge. Honestly, as interesting as Black Gate was, he was glad to finally be out of that cage for a little while. He felt like he could finally breathe again, despite the armed guards that he was sure were there to make sure he didn’t wander off more than protect him.

As they got close enough to the city to pick out details, he looked to the warrens that were the Red Lantern District and tried to pick out the Fallen Orchid, but he couldn’t. Whether that was because the place had been burned down, per his instructions, or because all the roofs had enough snow on them that it made it difficult to tell one building from the next. 

He didn’t really have any doubt that his men had followed his orders, of course, but it would have put a smile on his face to see the smoking crater of that place. They’d thought they were sending him to the noose, of course, and maybe they’d sent him somewhere worse, but as of right now, if his meeting with the dragon went well, he was pretty sure he’d make it out of this situation better off than when he’d been roped into it, which would give him all the time in the world to track down any of his enemies that might still be breathing. 

That wasn’t the focus of today, though. The last thing he wanted was to seem pissed off when he was talking to the Prince or the fire-breathing power behind the throne. So, he forced himself to stop thinking about vengeance and start thinking about blue.

In the hard leather case that resembled a doctor’s bag more than a briefcase, he held 40 doses of some of the purest stuff he’d ever made in thick glass jars, waiting to be handed off to the dragon. It was so pure now that it was faintly bioluminescent, and the little flecks of azure that floated in the blue liquid glowed faintly in the dark. Lucas would have thought that was cool as hell if the stuff wasn’t so toxic now that it would kill a racehorse. 

Brew of Mana Intoxication (pure, concentrated) (10 doses): Euphoria 15, poison 2, mana regeneration decreased by 250% for 1 hour. 

No, toxic is the wrong word, he corrected himself. Blue wouldn’t kill you with poison. It would stop your heart as the overwhelming pleasure made the real world seem like a distant and ultimately pointless memory. It would be like upgrading from heroin to fentanyl; you’d chase that dragon right off the cliff. 

Given how old the phrase chasing the dragon was, it was ironic that, in the end, that’s exactly what this was coming down to, but what was he supposed to do about that? Lucas didn’t even know how many human doses it took to get a dragon high. Did it need ten, or was it closer to fifty? Honestly, trying to figure out the dosage requirements of mythical creatures seemed pretty stupid, but that was his life now. He made magic potions and sold them to wizards and shit. 

While he considered this, the coach wound its way up the hill to the castle. When it reached the top, the door to the carriage was opened, and he was let out to be greeted by the chamberlain. “Ah, Mister Parin, of course; I was told to expect your arrival for luncheon, please, right this way.”

Lucas was the opposite of hungry, but he thanked the man and followed him just the same. Just because he was tired and confused didn’t mean he needed to take it out on the servants. That was a bitch move, and it always angered him when he saw his customers engaging in that sort of behavior. 

Besides, he reassured himself as soon as the Prince explains what the hell is going on, I’m sure I’ll calm down.

That was cold comfort as he walked these halls, though. He’d been in this palace twice before, and both times it was as a prisoner. This time, he was still closer to prisoner than guest; there just weren’t any manacles involved. 

The chamberlain took him past all the large rooms and then handed Lucas off to a stern-faced footman who brought him to the small parlor where the Prince was seated on an overstuffed couch across from a noblewoman. For a moment, he thought he’d have to wait for whatever business the man was currently conducting to be concluded, but instead, the Prince beckoned him over. 

The woman looked like she was pushing forty and seemed a little old for a man in the Prince’s position, but she was still pretty hot, so it wasn’t his place to judge. He’d certainly done worse when alcohol was involved. 

Lucas thought that perhaps he might have seen her at one or two of the parties he’d been to look for customers before shit got crazy, but he didn’t remember selling her anything. Beyond that, he really couldn’t say. 

After a while, noblewomen with scarlet dresses and corsets that were strung just a little too tight all sort of blended together. On Earth, he would have called her a MILF or a cougar, but here she had the look of just another ladder climber. At least, that’s what he thought until she looked at him and met his gaze directly. 

Her eyes were piercing and almost predatory. For a second, he was sure that there was more than meets the eye, then suddenly she smiled and asked, “Is this the young man you’ve been telling me so much about? He hardly seems like a prodigy, does he.”

Lucas suppressed his frown. He didn’t know who this woman was, but he hated when people talked out of turn, and that was especially true about people he had no hold over, like the Prince. He didn’t know who this woman was, but unless she was buying in serious quantity, she had no reason to know his face or his name.

“Looks can be deceiving,” the Prince agreed, “I didn’t think much of him at our first meeting either, but I have been shown the error of my ways.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Lucas said, shrugging off the casual insults. The gnome hadn’t taught him much about alchemy yet, but Lucas had learned more about brushing off contempt in the last few weeks than he had in the last few years combined. 

The Prince gave him a sharp look then like he’d done something wrong, but the woman ignored him and instead reached for her glass of red wine, practically ignoring Lucas. “Now Lucas, where are your manners?” the Prince chided him gently. “You’ve come all this way at an inconvenient hour. Why don’t you show the lady what you’ve been working on.”

Lucas suppressed a sigh and set his bag down on the table. He wanted to talk dragons, not show off for some side piece. I’m in no mood for this shit, he griped inwardly, but he said none of that. Instead, he smiled and opened up his satchel, pulled out one of the glowing blue mason jars, and handed it to the woman. 

“Do you know what this is?” he asked as she took it.

“Well, it certainly looks like Lwynthenll,” she answered, not even bothering to look at him, “It’s even got that slight glow, though I do remember it being brighter. I suppose I won’t know until I taste it now, will I?”

Lucas was only just sitting down when she unscrewed the top and poured herself three or four doses worth into her wine glass. His jaw opened in disbelief. She isn’t really about to do what I think she is, is she? He wondered in disbelief. 

Then, before he could stop her, she raised the glass to her mouth and took a nice long drink. Lucas felt like he was in the twilight zone. Some woman he didn’t even know had just drunk ten dragons of premium shit, and now she was going to curl up and die, and somehow, it was going to be all his fault. 

That isn’t what happened, though. Instead of seizing and collapsing face-first on the coffee table, she smiled lightly and closed her eyes but somehow kept holding on to her glass. “Oh yes,” she sighed. “That’s quite good. You’ve come a long way, Mister Blue… It’s not Lwynthenll yet… but it’s… well, it’s very enjoyable.”

Lucas looked in shock from her to the Prince and back. That was when the Prince finally figured out what was going on and said, “Ah, I see we are under a misapprehension here,” he said. “Lucas Parin, may I introduce to you the Countess Skylara. You may have heard her by another name. Skylara the Veridian, Skylara the Baleful, or perhaps most notably, Skylara the undefeated.”

“Oh, you flatterer,” the woman said with a smile, leaning back into the couch and basking in the glow over her overdose. “Introductions can wait until I’ve properly enjoyed this moment…”

While Lucas finally put the pieces together, and his eyes widened in shock, the Lady Skylara opened her eyes again briefly as she raised the glass to her lips and downed the second half of her very expensive beverage. Lucas couldn’t remember what color her eyes were the last time she’d looked at him, but they most certainly hadn’t been the golden eyes of a serpent. 

She’s the fucking dragon? His mind screamed as the Prince bowed to the room, then rather forcefully escorted Lucas out of the room by his elbow. 

“I can now see you weren’t properly briefed about this whole arrangement,” the Prince growled once they were safely in another room and the doors were closed. “But if you are ever anything less than perfectly polite to that woman again, I will have you flayed alive, is that understood?”

“Dude, chill,” Lucas said, shaking free of the man’s grip. “I didn’t know, alright. I thought I was going to meet like a dragon, dragon, not a woman that’s… well, you know.”

“The Lady Skylara is a dragon,” the Prince answered with a shake of his head as he started to calm down, “And I assure you that even in her human form, she is quite formidable. Magic is the lifeblood of dragons, and she would not need to turn back to her true form to level this castle and murder everyone in it.”

“I get it,” Lucas agreed. “Dragons are top of the food chain.”

“I’m afraid you don’t get it,” the Prince sighed, studying Lucas’s face. He obviously didn’t like what he saw. “But we don’t have time to discuss what she’s done to the envoys that have displeased her in the past just now. She will be up and around in a few minutes, and then we will have luncheon together. I trust this will go smoother than your first encounter with her.”

“A few minutes?” Lucas scoffed. “Dude - she’ll be out for hours after the hit she just took.”

“We’ll see about that,” the Prince said, starting down the hall without him.

Ch. 90 - More Than He Can Chew

Despite every instinct, it turned out that the Prince was right, and less than fifteen minutes later, Lady Skylara joined them in the blue room, where a small feast had been prepared. Lucas wasn’t hungry but wasn’t about to let lobster go to waste. Still, his motions were mechanical and automatic, as he was lost in the fog of his mind and struggled to process everything that had just happened. 

Lucas noted almost instantly that the Prince didn’t refer to Lady Skylara or to him as a drug dealer. Here, where the servants could hear, she was just a lady, and he was just a lord or a sir. Neither Blackgate nor Heizenburgle were referred to by name either. Instead, they were just ‘the project.’

Are you satisfied with the pace of your project? Do you have adequate resources for your project? Are the project facilities acceptable?

Lucas offered no complaints about anything. It wasn't just because he was distracted by everything that had just happened, either. Even though he felt like he was reaching the limits of what he could accomplish, he didn’t think this moment was the right time to voice that concern. Instead, he listened more than he spoke and did his utmost to engage as soon as Lady Skylara was seated. 

As hard as that was, it was still easier than avoiding staring. It wasn’t her cleavage that was drawing his eye either; it was just her. He was sitting at a table having a polite conversation with a dragon between the salad course and the finger sandwiches. 

Lady Skylara’s eyes had turned back to their original shade of green, and there was no hint that she was anything but a powerful matron or an important family. Well, almost nothing, he corrected himself. Her stiff demeanor had been loosened up quite a bit by the overdose of Blue she’d consumed, and her manner with both him and the Prince was so casual as to be almost flirtatious. 

“Where did you get your recipe,” she asked Lucas at one point after the main course had been served. “I’m dying to know. No matter how many elves I… questioned, over the years, they would never tell me how they made the stuff.”

“Honestly, I didn’t even know it was elvish,” Lucas said, noting the concerned look in the Prince’s eyes. He obviously didn’t want Lucas to say too much, but unlike everyone else at this table, he knew how to keep his mouth fucking shut. “It was just a recipe I’ve been experimenting with for a few years, and well, as you can see, things are really coming along lately.”

“They are,” she mused, “They really are.”

“Tell me, do you know what the elves use their little potion for?” she asked coyly. “You don’t just think they brew Lwynthenll for getting high, do you?”

“I didn’t even know it was elvish until today, soo…” he said, flashing back to the outburst from the slant that had almost blown up his first deal, “I’m going to say to commune with their Goddess or something?”

“That too,” she mused, “But there’s another, more important use for it…”

“Skylara, please, let’s not have any vulgarity while we’re eating…” the Prince sighed. His protest was respectful enough, but he was clearly doing it because she enjoyed the banter and not because he cared one way or the other what she did. Whatever it was that Heisenburgle was giving him made him one insightful motherfucker, but when it came to acting, he was still as wooden as a puppet. 

“They consider it quite the aphrodisiac,” she said, actually blushing slightly as she did. “Apparently, a race that lives for centuries doesn’t get in the mood very often, so they need a little help.”

“I see,” Lucas said, not sure what else to say. 

From what she was saying, he would have guessed that she was describing elvish Viagra, but from the way she was acting, it was quite clear that it worked on the woman instead of the man, or at least in addition to, he couldn’t say for sure. All he knew for a fact at this point was why the elves he’d tried to sell to had been pissed. If someone was selling his sacrad baby-making sacrament, he’d be pretty pissed off too.

“Have you tried it?” she asked, looking at him with an intensity that bordered on desire. “It can be quite… stimulating.”

“I think if I took as much as you did just now, I’d be dead on the floor,” Lucas answered with a shake of his head. “Besides, it's against the rules.”

Her question raised a good point. Suddenly, he had no idea how an elf would take something purer than this and hope to live. Maybe its effects on them are fundamentally different, he mused. Or maybe they just take a tiny drop of the stuff. Those thoughts raised other questions as he realized that up until now, all of his repeat customers had been human. In Lordanin, that wasn’t so unlikely, but it did beg the question, did it even get other races high? 

Before he could think about that any further, Sklara asked the Prince, “Rules? You’ve got your little genius bound by rules now?” 

“They’re my rules, actually,” Lucas said before the Prince could interject. “Rule number one: never get high on your own supply. It’s an ironclad law of alchemy.”

“Is it now?” she asked, apparently amused by all of this. She probably wasn’t the type to have many rules on what she could and couldn't do. “I suppose that is to my benefit. If you were just enjoying your blue every night, you’d have no opportunity to improve it for me. I’m very grateful for your sacrifice.”

“And I’m happy to help,” he said, smiling coldly. “After all you do for Lordanin, it’s only fair you relax now and then.”

This made her smile, and she turned to the Prince again. “At last, finally someone who appreciates all my hard work instead of putting a price tag on it.” 

While the two of them engaged in their verbal fencing match, Lucas tuned them out and focused on everything else. He was sitting here, in the palace, at the center of the Lordanin, having lunch with the city’s ruler and the dragon that safeguarded it. It was a surreal moment for a nobody like him. It was like he was that one dealer that was invited to all the right parties.

Only it isn’t, he clarified, forcing himself to focus. I still don't have what she needs. I have something that's pretty close, but I’m still missing an ingredient or two. 

Lunch for the three of them lasted for over an hour, and when it was done, he gave Skylara the case he’d brought with him as a gift and vowed to bring her more and better soon, even though he wasn’t one hundred percent sure that he could deliver, not that it mattered. Either he’d make what she wanted and be a hero, or he’d fail to deliver, and she or the Prince would kill him. The only difference in the two outcomes was that if he stayed upbeat and told them he was getting close, he’d be able to string them along a lot longer than if he was pessimistic about his chances. 

He was fairly certain that if he told Lady Skylara about just how big the haystack was that his needle was hiding in, she would bite his head off, figuratively or literally. If he told her about Heisenburgle’s experiments with vampire blood… Well, then it would almost certainly be a literal bite, and he wasn’t in the mood for that. He still had too much to live for to go back to heaven and explain himself to those assholes.  

The dragoness departed before he did, and he did so in a carriage that was piled high with gold and Blue. It amused him that she rode in a flimsy wooden vehicle that was much the same as his own, rather than sprouting wings and soaring into the sky. If she was flying around with any regularity, though, I think I would have heard about it, he reminded himself. Everyone was pretending this was just normal, so he was too. 

When she was gone, the Prince said, “Other than the beginning there, where she almost ripped out your throat, you did well,” he said with a nod as Lucas’s carriage moved forward and approached them. “I think she likes you.”

“I hope she does,” Lucas said with a sigh. “I just want to make her little drug and go the hell home. I don’t want to be on the menu.”

“Well, according to Heisenburgle’s updates, no one is going to be killing you anytime soon,” the Prince nodded. “The fact that you’ve impressed that old curmudgeon is quite impressive in its own right.”

“What do you mean?” Lucas asked. “I didn’t know the bastard was capable of saying anything nice about someone.”

“Oh, he didn’t say anything nice,” the Prince smiled, “It’s like you said. He can’t. What he can do, though, is admit when he’s wrong, and he’s certain he can’t make Blue half as well as you can. He thinks you’re using some hidden sorcery.”

“Give it time,” Lucas said with a shrug, “I’ve been doing it a lot longer than he has.”

The Prince regarded Lucas for a long moment, searching for something. Lucas had no idea whether he had found it or not, but in the end, the Prince wished him good luck, and he set off once more for Blackgate to keep. 

Despite the time of day, Lucas passed the hell out on the road this time, potholes or no. The meal, the exhaustion, and the moments of stark terror he’d experienced as he tried not to think about how very easily Lady Skylara could obliterate him had left him completely tapped out.  

That same combination, combined with the poor state of the roads, also contributed to terrible nightmares, and he woke several times on the way back. By the time Lucas arrived at Blackgate, he was even more tired than he was before he left. Heisenburgle didn’t see that as an acceptable excuse, though, and instead pressed a red potion into his hand. “Sleep is not an option,” he answered, blowing Lucas off. “We need the details while they’re still fresh in your mind. I want to know every last thing that monster said. It might be important to our future.”

Potion of Greater Wakefulness (1 dose): Poison 3, agility 1, health regeneration decreased by 20% for 8 hours, wakefulness increased by 200% for 4 hours. 

Lucas yawned and regarded the potion. He didn’t know how important any of their idle conversations over lunch might be to their future, but he really didn’t want to screw up his sleeping schedule just to have to fix it again later. So, with a shrug, he popped the cork, downed the potion, and then followed Heisenburgle into the building.