Brewing Bad Ch. 138-139

Ch. 138 - A Way Out

Without appearing like he was in a hurry, Lucas raced down the stairs and welcomed Heisenburgle into his gilded cage curtly but courteously. “You’re in better shape than I thought you’d be after what happened,” the gnome admitted as Lucas bent over to shake his hand.

“Well, I’m a hard man to kill,” Lucas answered brusquely. 

The gnome stiffened at the word kill and said, “Perhaps it would be better if we chatted in private.”

“Right this way then,” Lucas agreed, noting that Heisenburgle didn’t so much as look at the beautiful women that were nearly twice as tall as he was.

He really only has eyes for alchemy, Lucas told himself as they walked. Even as he attempted to escape the maids and speak in private, Mirin insisted on accompanying them. Whether she was being clingy or simply trying to spy on them, he really couldn’t say. 

“Right this way, your lordship,” she said amiably. Lucas had no idea if Hisenburgle was actually a lord, but he also doubted this was the first time the gnome had been to the Prince’s little love nest based on the way he was acting. 

Before their conversation could progress beyond pleasantries, they had to endure a full tea service. That took several minutes, and though the tea wasn’t drugged, Lucas didn’t plan on having any. This was not a social call. 

Each time he tried to shoo her away, he was met with a response like, “Nonsense, not with a guest this important,” or “The head maid would have me skinned if I didn’t treat Lord Heisenburgle with all the courtesy he’s due!”

The gnome seemed resigned to the whole thing and took it much better than Lucas did. He simply sat there patiently and twiddled his thumbs while she carried on. 

After several minutes of fussing over the two of them and leaving them with half a dozen small pastries and two steaming cups, the blonde maid finally departed. That was when the gnome began to fling his glitter dust around the room in the search for invisible spies and minders; for once, he didn’t even mock the gnome. He just waited with bated breath to see if he would find someone.

The gnome didn’t find any people hiding in the corners or under the desk. What he did find, though, was a paperweight that made the dust on it glow faintly. Lucas didn't even know that shit could do that and vowed to mix some up himself just in case he ever needed to see if someone had boobytrapped his rooms. The gnome didn't say a word. he just scowled and then set a cushion on top of the thing like he was muting a microphone.

When that was done, he moved to the far side of the room and said, “That should take care of that,” in a very soft voice.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Lucas said, skipping any outpouring of gratitude they’d both regret. “I—”

“I almost didn’t,” Heisenburgle answered in a whisper. “I try not to entangle myself in matters where my liege has been displeased, and you, my unorthodox alchemist, have greatly displeased the great man. I’m still not certain—”

“That’s bullshit,” Lucas protested a little louder than he meant to. He lowered his voice and continued. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t tell the crazy dragon lady about Danaria, and I certainly didn’t—”

“You’ve done more than enough to get locked up here,” Heisenburgle shot back, “Which tells me that the Prince is very troubled by your continued existence and not entirely sure what to do with you. Doubtless, if he didn’t need you, you would be a lose end that was already tied up, but in this one thing, it would seem you’ve been blessed by the gods themselves.”

Lucas didn’t answer, both because he got the point, however unfair, and because he wasn’t certain whether the gnome was hinting at things about the divine which he should know nothing about or if he was just getting uncomfortably close to the truth with a figure of speech. 

Instead, the two glared at each other for the better part of a minute before the gnome said, “I don’t know what you expect me to do about any of this… The Prince will keep you here until you are nice and malleable. After that? Well, who can say?”

“Is he already trying to replace me and make Blue without me?” Lucas asked. 

“You know the answer to that,” Heisenburgle answered with a crooked smile. “You also know that as much as it pains me to say it, I can’t make what he wants me to make. Oh, I’ve tried, but it is too unorthodox for anyone but you, it would seem…”

“I want you to tell him you think I’d be better off in your care,” Lucas said, ignoring how humiliating that was. He might have known that the gnome was his warden this whole time, but admitting it made him feel like a chump. “Tell him… I don’t know; tell him that Danaria’s death is tearing me up, and you think I need to be able to throw myself into my work.”

Lucas had thought that would work. He’d thought that the gnome would have jumped at the opportunity just to have someone to talk shop with again, but the man seemed cagier than usual. Normally, even when the two of them bickered, there was some joy in the old gnome's rage, but today, he only seemed brittle and tired. That was a bad sign and enough to make Lucas worry that he was in deeper shit than he thought. 

“I told you,” Hisenburgle repeated slowly as if Lucas had some sort of learning disability. “Not. My. Problem. I make it a point not to cross my patron. That goes double when dragons are involved. I did try to warn you. Don't forget that. I told you that woman was a monster on several occasions. There’s nothing in this world that could…”

“What if there was, though?” Lucas interrupted, grasping at straws. “What if I uhmmm… Had a way for you to get what you really wanted.”

“What I really wanted, huh?” the gnome asked skeptically. “What is it you think I really want?”

“To be an alchemist,” Lucas answered quickly. In fact, he answered it too quickly, though he only realized that as he saw Heisenburgle’s face begin to purple with rage. “Whoa, hold on there, that’s not what I meant, and you know it. I meant that what you want most is for your talent to be alchemy, not smithing or—”

“Engineering,” the gnome answered peevishly. “If I was merely a smith, I would have to do the honorable thing and drink myself to—”

“What if I said I knew a way to change that, maybe,” Lucas answered, cutting him off. 

“I’d say it's impossible,” Heisenburgle scoffed. “The gods themselves determine talents at the moment of birth, according to their grand designs. They’re the only ones that could ever do such a thing, and the enlightened, immortal Thrzealwick is not in the habit of taking petitions.”

“What if I told you I’ve met the man, errr, gnome,” Lucas answered, leaning in conspiratorially. 

He hated giving that much away, of course, but really, more than anyone else, he needed to get Heisenburgle on board with his mad scheme. Lucas might know all there was to know about red dragons, but Heisenburgle was the one who had been spending years building tools and devising stratagems to kill her. While he had little interest in steam-powered jousting horses, some liquid-cooled anti-fire armor or something like that would definitely come in handy for what he wanted to do next. 

They were powerful words, but they didn’t seem to do much good. Instead of answering, the gnome took off his spectacles and started to clean them on his shirt. When he was finished, he said, “I understand that grieving is hard. I’ve been there myself, but you must be careful not to fall into the grip of madness, my friend.”

“I’m not crazy!” Lucas said, too loud again. He repeated it the second time more softly. “I’m not fucking crazy. I’m not.”

“Anyone who seeks to pit themselves against the Lord of this city is either very crazy or very stupid,” the gnome said with a smirk. “And anyone who seeks revenge against Skylara… Well, not even the stupid would think of something so dumb.”

“Who said I was after revenge?” Lucas said, giving the man a nondenial denial. “I just said I wanted out of here to—”

“What you want is clear to everyone, Lucas,” Heisenburgle answered in a way that wasn’t completely patronizing. It occurred to Lucas only belatedly that the smarmy gnome was actually trying to be sympathetic. “I expect the Prince knew from the first moment he sat down with you. That is why you are where you are. To calm down. Pity, I can not stay long. I do not wish for my lord to get the wrong idea about a man who claims to have—”

“I did!” Lucas hissed. 

“What is that phrase you told me once?” the gnome answered. “Never get high on your alkalis, was it?”

Lucas opened his mouth to correct the prick, but he closed it again when the gnome started to walk away. When he reached the door, he stopped and said. “Just stay calm, enjoy all the comforts that wealth can provide, and when the Prince has made a decision about what to do with you, he’ll let both of us know.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that when Danria is dead, asshole,” Lucas growled, offended at the very idea. 

“Grief is temporary,” the gnome assured him as he stepped through the door and started to shut it behind him. “The Prince of Lordanin and his plans, though. That’s forever. You might as well get used to it like everyone else.”

Lucas fumed at that. For a moment, he almost picked up one of the teacups and threw it at the door, but he mastered the urge. Instead, he sat down, replaying the conversation in his head and wondering what he could have done to seal the deal instead of fumbling it. 

“What the fuck am I going to do now?” he asked himself as he reviewed his list of dwindling options. 

He’d already known that that Prince was unhappy with him, of course. All that Heisenburgle had done was confirm the degree. It was a small comfort that the man couldn’t simply replace Lucas, but it was concerning that he would have considered that an option. 

“Machiavellian motherfucker,” Lucas complained loudly enough that he hoped the microphone, or whatever its magical equivalent, was picked it up. 

You’re really on your own now, buddy, he told himself. But that’s pretty much par for the course, ain’t it? It didn’t matter. Even if he had to choke-stab that bitch in the middle of a ball with nothing but his trusty ring and a sharpened letter opener, he was going to do it, and no one, not Hisenburgle, not his very pretty guards, and certainly not the Prince was going to stop him. 

Ch. 139 - A Change of Heart

For the week that followed his disappointing meeting with Heisenburgle, Lucas worked even harder on his martial efforts. He channeled his rage into his exercises and focused only on hitting harder and swinging faster. It was cathartic, but not as cathartic as getting out of this tiny prison would be. He was sick of it, and worse, he was pretty sure that if Danaria really was dead, he would have already succumbed to its many temptations, which made him sick whenever he looked at himself. 

It was hard to stay focused on eating right when two pastry chefs were on site just to make sure he got fat and lazy, and they were just the tip of the iceberg. Every day, Lucas had to contend with three beautiful maids, and nothing would have made them happier than to ply him with sex and drugs until he forgot his own name. To him, it was like that one chapter of the Odyssey that he’d read back in junior high; at the time, he’d joked about how cool that would be. 

“What better life could you ask for than being trapped on a deserted island with drugs and a hot ass girl forever?” he’d asked his friends at the time.  

Lucas was certainly regretting those words now. He even had a hot nymph here with him, and though she seemed to want nothing to do with him, Lucas was pretty sure that she was on the menu just like everyone else. Every day, he felt like he was beating his head against the wall, and if not for his regular sparring sessions with Sir Milen and the regular notes the man provided, he was pretty sure he’d have gone insane. 

At least news from the outside was better than things in here. Though the Manor was a complete loss and unlikely to be rebuilt anytime soon, Danaria was well, and though many of the injured and maimed were still in bad shape, no one new was likely to die. Business, though it didn’t matter half so much as everything else was doing just fine, and the warm spring was likely to be a good season for him, though Kar’gandin did warn him that they would need him back for some brewing by the end of Summer at the latest or inventory would start to get tight.  

Out of everything right now, the idea of brewing more Blue was the thing that he was least concerned with. Though he desperately wanted to experiment more with various alchemical concoctions so he could test exactly how much an attribute boost did what, he wasn’t feeling the drug thing right now. 

It was the other little tidbits of news that brightened his day. Along with the improving weather, construction was proceeding apace on he and Danaria’s future home. The dwarf included a small sketch of a window that was going to be done in floral-themed stained glass with that letter, which warmed Lucas’ heart, even though he knew he couldn’t keep it. He knew who’d drawn it, though, and that was enough. 

Those meager crumbs kept his soul fed, and the thoughts of everything he had to look forward to kept him well clear of even the smallest of temptations, much to the annoyances of his maids. Though Lucas was quite sure he couldn’t endure such a situation indefinitely, he was certain he could do this for months or years. Fortunately, he didn’t have to. 

Less than two weeks later, he woke up one morning to find out he was being summoned for dinner that evening at the palace. That was surprising but not comforting. Lucas had no idea what it meant, to be honest. “Is he going to execute me, or is he going to set me free?” Lucas asked himself aloud as he returned to his room after hearing the news. “Maybe he just wants to know why I’m not banging the maids yet.”

Lucas had no idea what the man wanted, but he was determined not to let it bother him and spent the rest of the day training just as he would have normally. He wasn’t going to use this as an excuse to waste the day until it was time to bathe and get ready. 

Then, he calmly changed and destroyed the letter he’d been preparing to hand off tomorrow at the end of his dancing lesson, just in case. His sword-fighting achievement was up to 52%, and he’d hate to miss even one lesson, but the last thing that Lucas wanted was to leave a single trace of Danaria’s existence behind; he was certain that the maids would ransack the place in his absence, and he wasn’t going to give them a single thing to find. 

The ride to the palace was utterly dull, and except for the four guards who rode on the running boards outside the small plush cabin that Lucas was seated inside, it was completely normal. He knew those guards were there to keep him from running more than anything, but he also knew that he could escape any time he wanted to. That gave the whole thing an air of ceremonial formality that he found more than a little amusing.

At the palace, there were no signs that this was a larger feast, which Lucas sighed in relief at. While he would have loved the chance to jam a butter knife into Lady Skylara’s eye, the last thing he wanted was to deal with any pomp or ceremony. 

Instead, he was announced and then escorted into the Prince’s private dining room, where he found not just the man himself but also another familiar face: Hiesenburgle. Lucas ignored the gnome to start with and instead bowed to his Royal Highness. Lucas might have no respect for the man, but rudeness was not likely to help his cause. Instead, he asked, “So, to what do I owe this honor?”

The Prince pursed his lips as he studied Lucas. Then he said, “My people say that you’ve not been adjusting to life in my little getaway, so I thought you might do with some fresh air.”

Or maybe you could just let me out of my fucking cage, Lucas growled internally before he answered, “That’s very thoughtful,” as he sat down at the Prince’s left hand, across from the gnomish alchemist. 

The conversation that followed was mostly about Lucas. The Prince asked why he was so fixated on practicing his swordplay, and Lucas confessed that it was the only form of exercise he truly enjoyed. When pressed further on the topic, he admitted that he was also using it to work through some of his emotions. “I’ve got some anger issues,” he said dismissively. “I haven’t exactly made that a secret.”

“You haven’t,” the Prince agreed. “I’m just curious as to whether or not you understand you can’t act on them. Skylara is a valuable asset, both to me and to the city.”

“What in the hell do you think I’m going to do against a dragon,” Lucas sighed. “She almost ripped my head off without trying.”

“I imagine she thought she was being gentle,” the gnome quipped, though both of the men ignored him. 

“Anyway, so if that’s all you’ve called me here for, I apologize for wasting your time,” Lucas answered.

The conversation paused briefly as servants wheeled in a first course of seafood bisque and warm rolls. The Prince waited until he’d had several spoonfuls of his soup before he picked the conversation back up. “Nonsense,” he answered. “Your well-being is nearly as important to me as hers is. In a sense, your destinies are bound together, though I understand that’s difficult for you to accept.”

Difficult? His mind raged. He didn’t trust his voice just then. He only nodded. 

The threads of that conversation continued, course by course, and though many words were exchanged over appetizers and salad, the Prince didn’t get to his point until the blackened Halibut was laid in front of each of them. 

“I think it’s time you get back to work,” the Prince said simply as he attacked his meal with a knife and fork. 

“Work has never stopped,” Hesienburgle said. “If you’d like an update on—”

“I think both of you should get back to work,” the man clarified. “I think too much idle time could take you to a dark place, Lucas, and as much as my servants have tried to cheer you up, it does not seem to be working.”

“It's a nice place,” Lucas agreed, surprising his amusement at the way Heisenburgle was acting as he took on a mien of moroseness. He wasn’t sure that would be enough to fool the sharp-eyed Prince, but it was his only choice. “It's just… It’s the wrong point in my life, you know?”

“I do,” the Prince agreed. “In retrospect, it was an error, but we shall amend that now by letting you focus on your real passion.”

“I’m not certain he’s ready,” the gnome huffed. “Is it wise to put a man who has suffered such a loss around so many toxic compounds?”

“If you think he’s a danger to himself, you’re welcome to assign him an escort,” the Prince agreed after taking a bite. “But Lucas strikes me as a man with something to live for.”

“What’s that?” Lucas asked, almost afraid of the answer. 

“What else?” the Prince answered with a cold smile. “Gold. Now that you’ve perfected your recipe, we can finally start working on exports. After you’ve started to earn appropriate revenue once more, I’m sure you can buy a few ladies to fill that hole in your heart.”

For just a moment, Lucas was dumbfounded. The Prince was intelligent but not wise, and he apparently had a giant blind spot where emotions were concerned. For just a moment, Lucas wanted to wring his scrawny little neck, but he resisted. 

There’s no need for that, he told himself. Not when the man is giving me everything I want. 

The rest of their lavish continued just like that for four more courses, two of which were dessert courses. Given Lucas’s somewhat ascetic diet for the last month, he was stuffed, but still. He didn’t complain. Instead, he enjoyed every one of the gnome’s attempts to weasel out of this. 

“Maybe in a few weeks, after I complete my current treatise,” he complained, “or perhaps after I’ve had time to restock the main reagents such an industrial operation is likely to use.” At every turn, he attempted to backpedal, but the Prince would hear none of it. 

As Lucas and Heisenburgle left the man’s chamber, Lucas had to work hard to suppress the smile that this had worked out the way it did. He was being shipped off to work on Alchemy anyway, and Heisenburgle’s protests didn’t even enter into the equation. 

When they arrived in the courtyard, the guards started to unload trunks from the rear of Lucas’ carriage, though that assessment changed. Apparently, they’d already packed his shit, and no one had bothered to tell him. That told him everything he needed to know. 

This event had been planned from the outset, which almost certainly meant that the gnome was in on it. Hell, he might have planned it. Whatever Heisenburgle might have said in there was, at best, a ruse. That was confirmed moments later by the man’s own words. 

“When we get back to Blackgate, I expect a full accounting regarding that detail you mentioned before,” the gnome whispered as the servants moved Lucas’ belongings to the gnome’s dark carriage. “And if you’ve lied to me, I’ll lock you in the basement and feed you nothing but moldy crusts of bread. You’ll wish you were going back to the Prince’s château.”

Lucas smiled at that. After being confined to his own perverse heaven for a few days, being sent to a real dungeon would be a relief. It would be honest, at least, and his life was complicated enough that he appreciated a little honesty when he could get it.