Mark of the Fool

Chapter 450: A 'Haunted House'

Alex Roth, the very first Junior Crafter ever hired by Toraka Shale, emerged from the workshop with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. Tucked away in his satchel, he carried a writ of employment with a promissory wage clause included of fifty gold pieces per shift, with three shifts per week as a schedule.

Not included in the written contract was Torakas verbal promise to lend him her aid when it came time for him to buy his familys first home in Generasi. Also not included were the numerous extra benefits that would be coming to him in the future.

Soon, it would be time to begin step five of his plan, whichin some wayswas the easiest step. Of course, it was that step that would also bring the greatest risk to his life with it, but when wasnt his life at risk these days?

Just need to get my hands on a dungeon core of my own, he muttered, crossing the crowded street with Claygon at his side. No problem, really, I only need to enter a dungeon, steal the core and break it down, just me and Claygonand maybe the rest of the cabal. If Im lucky, invisible monsters wont turn me into stone and scream at me until Im rock-shards!

He sighed. What even is my life, really?

Then there was step six to think about.

If step five risked his life, then step six risked the entire plan; there was no step more critical, but if it worked

Financial freedom, he muttered to himself, stopping in front of the rundown bakery.

He put his hands on his hips, examining it with a practised eye.

Alex had never really stopped and taken a good look at the building before, not in any depth, and what he foundwell, was disturbing. McHarris was selling bad eggs, butthis placehe couldnt imagine which of their ingredients wouldnt be bad.

Bloody thing looks more like a haunted house than a cake shop, he murmured, eyes scanning the buildings facade.

What is a hauntedhouse? Claygon asked.

Oh, its an attraction they build for the festival of ghosts, Alex thought. Its full of people dressed as spooky monsters. Its supposed to be scary just for the fun of being scared. Selina and Theresa love it, but personally, I see enough monsters in real life. I think the haunted house is supposed to resemble actual haunted buildings, which are buildings that angry spirits are trapped in.

Ohand what makes thislook haunted? Claygon asked.

Well, theres a few things. First of all, look at all the cobwebs around the window. Haunted houses always have loads of cobwebs hanging from them, though thats really less a sign of ghosts than it is a sign of poor cleaning habits. Oh, and its also a sign of spiders, but that's pretty obvious, isnt it?

Notto me Claygon thought.

Oh rightwell, Ill explain spiderwebs another time. Anyway, the threshold looks like it hasnt been cleaned in months, Alex continued scanning the building. Windows are dusty, the brick on the chimneys darker than a moonless night, and it smells like old dry food even from here. AndOh, by the Traveller, no!

He shuddered at a terrible sight crawling from a crack in the mortar.

A sight less welcome in a bakery than even the most vicious of Ravener-spawn, so feared by chefs from Thameland to Generasi, that there were some who had nightmares about it.

The creature that was a plague to restaurants and mills across the world

the common cockroach.

It crawled along the bakery wall, antenna wriggling away as though it were drumming on the bricks, before slipping back into the crack and disappearing into the building to defile everything within.

Well, there goes the idea of grabbing a quick meat pie, Alex muttered. Last thing I want isoh. Oh dear. His stomach churned. Is thatoh dear, those are bat droppings on the roof. How has the bakers guild not shut this place down yet?

He glanced at the sign above the door, which had a faded image of a mermaid carrying a cupcake in a giant clam shell. The paint was chipping, nearly flaked away, exposing the bare wood beneath. Under the image was the shops name: Mermaid Cakes.

Well, lets go and have a look, shall we? Alex said.

The first thing that caught Alexs attention was the tinkling of a bell as he opened the door. It was a pleasant little sound, contrasting strongly with the second thing that caught his attention.

The smell.

A pungent, sour scent struck his nostrils like a punch from Claygons fist, nearly laying him on his back before hed taken two steps into the place. Only an iron willforged by a year of combatting the Markand the sheer politeness hammered into him by two different families kept the contents of his stomach from spewing out onto the floor.

Not that a pile of vomits presence on the floor would have been out of place.

At a quick glance, it looked as though the wooden floors werewell, if not clean then clean enough. But Alex had learned all the tricks when it came to floors: for a few minutes effort, one could make a floor seem clean with a quick sweep of a broom, no mopping or polishing needed.

Of course, the corners told the true story.

And the story these corners were telling was filthier than a sailors bragging after a late night visit to the local brothel. Dust, crumbs, tangles of hair and worse all nestled in those corners, each the perfect nest for an entire menagerie of vermin.

By the Traveller, Alex thought, noting cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. Did no one report this to the bakers guild? Does Generasi even have a bakers guild?

Hello? A voice called from somewhere unseen. Is that you? Youre early.

Alex heard shuffling from the direction of the kitchen, or at least where he guessed the kitchen was. Mermaids Cakes was set up much like McHarris bakery: a small seating area at the front of the shop where customers could enjoy hot snacks, then a counter upon which bread, cookies and pies were displayed, and finally a doorway to the back where the kitchen was probably located.

It was from that door that Alexs nostrils caught the sourest of the shops odours, though he definitely detected a certain sickening sweet and sour aroma rising from the baked goods on the counter.

Rotten ingredients are likely masked with sugar or jam, he thought. Ugh, here I am, halfway across the world and I run into the exact same thing I found at home. But, stilltheres some talent here.

While the scent might have been the stuff of food poisoning nightmares, the baked goods looked delightful. In particular, a certain cookie caught his eye, one dressed up with an image of the shops mermaid mascot, covered in icing rather than paint.

He was just about to take a closer look at the cookie when the source of shuffling footsteps appeared: a middle aged man with a pan in hand.

A pan he nearly dropped when he spied the hulking young man and his towering golem. Alex wasnt surprised. It wasnt the first time that he and Claygon had provoked that reaction in a stranger.

A customer? The man cried as if shocked. Cantexcuse me, sir, butand I know this is a bit rudebut do you exist? I cant rule out the idea that the boss ordered the wrong sort of mushrooms.

Erno, Im real, Alex said. Er, youre a bakery right, you shouldnt be that surprised to have a customer.

I can be if its this bakery, the man snorted, putting the baking pan down on the counter and squinting at Alex. Well, then off you go. Shoo shoo. Run along now.

The Thameish wizard gaped at the man, glancing up at Claygon.

This man has told us to leavewe are not welcome, Claygon noted.

YesI mean no, that doesnt make any sense! Alex cried.

The man startled, snatching up the pan again. Youre not one of those ghost hunters are you? If you are, youd best be moving along and moving along quickly. My pan found the head of the last one and I wont be afraid to do the same to you.

This man is a threat, Claygon declared, levelling a fire-gem at the man. I will destroy him.

No, dont destroy him! Alex cried.

I tell you, that acts not going to work! The man brandished the pan. Theres no ghosts in here! If there were, they would have done me the sweet mercy of taking me into the afterworld already!

What the hells are you talking about? Alex demanded.

I am destroying him now, father, Claygon said.

No! Dont destroy him! Were not destroying anyone!

You take your act and your fake ghosts and you get out of here! The bakery worker snapped.

Will you shut up! Im trying to stop Claygon from turning you into a bloody ghost!

If he is a ghostthat means he will stay a threat after I destroy his body. Yeshaunted house, I understand father, came Clagyons resounding voice in Alexs mind. We willgo outside. Then I will blow up the house.

No, its okay, Claygon hes not a threat! Alex pleaded.

Oh? Is Claygon the name of your fake ghost? The man demanded.

No, its the name of my very real golem! The wizard snapped. Hes who Ive been talking about!

Ooooooh now I understand, youre nothing more than a common loon, the man sighed in relief, putting down the pan. Right, off you go then. Or if youre going to go mad and blow me up lets get it over with. Oh by the way, its pronounced Clay Golem not Claygon, are you foreign or something?

Whats being foreign got to do with anything? Alex demanded, starting to wonder if he should let Claygon blow this place up. So what if Im bloody foreign?

Well it means you could be talking funny and mis-saying words. The man put his hands on his hips. You do have that weird accent.

My accents not weird! Your accents weird!

No, its not, yours is.

Look, whatwhat is going on here? Alex squinted at the walls. Is this a prank? Is this some big joke Thundar came up with? Ah, or maybe Baelin, hed do something like that.

What makes you think Im joking, you loon? The man asked.

Because none of this makes any sense! Alex gripped fistfuls of his long hair. Ia bloody customerwalk in, and the place smells like a bloody trash fire. Then you come out, deny that I exist and tell me to leave your bakery and start talking about ghosts and the like! What in bloody blazes is wrong with you? Its no wonder you dont have any customers coming into your bake shop, and you look like you could use a bloody sale.

The man cleared his throat. Its not my bake shop. And listen, Im trying to protect you. You must be a loon to walk into a place like this: youre the first customer Ive seen in about a month now, and theres a good reason for that. Look at the place. He gestured around. You have a nose. It stinks in here for good reason. But, here I work and here I stay.

Wait Alex paused, a horrifying sense of deja vu hitting him. You just work here?

Oh yes, I need the job, hence me not minding you obliterating me right now, the man grunted. Better than working for the old slave driver. I mean, look at this.

To Alexs great horror, the man rolled up his sleeve, revealing a series of welts along his arm. Familiar welts. Welts that might have been given by an abusive baker punishing a worker for not whipping custard fast enough.

A moment of empathy/sympathy struck Alex so hard, he had to lean against Claygon for support. Andhe holds you hostage with your pay? Never pomotes you? Never appreciates or trusts you? Has you using rotten food and just plays it off? Never protects you from nasty customers.

A baffled expression crossed the bakery workers face. Howhow do you know all that?

Because Alex sighed. At one time I had welts just like yours. Were brothers in mistreatment, my friend. Brothers. Tell me about your McHarris.

My McHarris? Whos that? The man asked.

Another devil, my friend, Alex said. One Ill tell you all about.

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