Cinnamon Bun

Chapter Four Hundred and Fifty-Two - If You See Something, Say Something

"Awa, it's nice just being us again," Awen said.

I grinned as I looked to the side. Awen hadn't looked too bad when she was with all of the other recruits and Sir Tissue, but now that we were off on our own it looked like she'd cast off a bit of tension, her shoulders had relaxed and she looked much happier.

So, to add to the happiness, I leaned to the side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a side-hug. "Did you have some fun, at least?"

"It wasn't bad," Awen said. "Some of them were a little weird about working with a human, but Mister Jean-Pierre put an end to that. And I think we did pretty well in the dungeon?"

"That team with the two that look like they just came off the mean streets," Calamity said, "they didn't look like they knew what they were doing."

"Oh, were they that bad?" I asked. He was definitely talking about Hannah and Davis. The two had been nice, but I think Calamity was probably right about them not quite having all that much experience.

"I've seen a lot of new people showing up to hunts before," Calamity said. "Happened all the time. People would show up with ideas of how things were done, but no experience. Sometimes you could set them straight before they'd hurt themselves, sometimes you'd need to give them the boot before they ruined a hunt. But you just have to live with it. Most people need to start somewhere."

"They seemed nice," I said. "I think Hannah, especially, really wants to be part of the guild. That kind of enthusiasm should help a lot, I think."

Calamity nodded. "Yup. You'd get wanna-be hunters like that too. It's great, because they want to be part of the group so much that they don't complain when you give them scop work."

"Hey," I said. "That's mean."

"Someone has to clean the dishes and dig the latrines," Calamity said with a shrug.

Awen laughed. "I think it's okay. It'll make them useful to the guild, and at the same time they'll have time to learn how to be good explorers."

I hummed, but didn't say anything against that. I remembered the first group of explorers I'd run into a long, long time ago. They'd had a younger grenoil with them who was always doing the boring work too.

We were just passing the old delver camp when Awen spoke up. "Um, so, Broccoli, why did you come and get us?"

"Oh!" I gasped. "Oh gosh, I completely forgot to tell you. Right! I came to get Jean-Pierre, uh, Sir Tissue. He's one of the guild's best trackers, and we need him. Booksie was... she was kidnapped."

"Hoh boy," Calamity muttered.

Awen just gasped, hands clamping over her mouth. "When? Why?"

"This morning, we think. Or maybe last night? I don't know, exactly. Amaryllis is trying to find out, and Caprica is working with the sylph embassy too. I rushed over to get Jean-Pierre, and the two of you too."

"Can we help?" Awen asked. "Being kidnapped is... no good, most of the time."

"Yeah," I said. "Just being there should help."

"Hey now, I'm not a terrible tracker myself, you know," Calamity griped. "And I have a good nose. Maybe I can pick something up from Booksie's place. But... we sure she was kidnapped?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, she's got a mighty stressful time coming up. Some people respond to stress by toughening up, some just push through, others fold, and then some run away from home, change their identity, and become incredibly handsome hunters."

I narrowed my eyes, inspecting Calamity. That last one was a bit suspiciously specific.

"Uh-huh. I don't feel like Booksie would be the sort to run away from her marriage. She doesn't strike me as that kind of bun. If anything, she might be the sort to put her foot down." I shook my head. "Maybe you're right, but I don't think so."

"It was just an idea," Calamity said. "Best to assume the worst and work to find her, then we can figure things out from there."

"Mhm!" I agreed.

We left the marshes behind, starting down the road at a brisk clip. I took some time to splash some Cleaning magic onto myself and my friends. Calamity especially--mud was very good at getting stuck to fur. By the time I was done, his fur was standing on end and he looked particularly poofy.

I tried not to giggle, failed, then endured Calamity's pouting until we were almost back to Rockstack.

We made good time on the way back. Not sprinting, exactly, but not wasting any time either. All three of us kept a quick pace, which meant less chatting than I was used to, but still... I couldn't help but feel guilty for all the time I'd taken getting to Jean-Pierre in the first place. Could I have gotten there faster? Was Booksie hurting because I was being slow?

"Are you okay?" Awen asked.

I nodded. "I'm fine," I said. "Let's just get back to Port Royal."

"We're teleporting back, right?" Calamity asked. "Because I'm not sure if my breakfast agreed with that, but I'm less sure about trying it on an empty stomach."

'Yeah. The guild's paying for it, and it's way, way faster than going back to Port Royal ourselves. That's a trip that takes a full day by carriage."

Calamity scoffed. "We could do it in a morning. We move a lot faster than a carriage."

I blinked, but looking back... yeah, we probably were faster than a carriage, especially on these roads, which were muddy and covered in potholes. I wasn't thinking about it, but our 'fast walking' speed was probably as quick as my running speed before arriving on Dirt.

I supposed that was the benefit of having even slightly higher stats. And a life that encouraged lots of moving all day long.

Rockstack appeared ahead, sitting atop a large bump in the landscape that probably kept the outpost nice and dry from all the swampiness around it.

I led my friends up to the front gate, ready to shoot past the guards, when I decided not to. Yes, I was in a bit of a hurry, but that didn't mean that I could just stop being polite. There were limits to such things. "Hello," I said as we came up to the gate.

"Oh, you're back," one of the grenoil said. The guards hadn't changed yet. Or maybe Rockstack only had a few to begin with. "Hey, you mentioned something about seeing a bun earlier, didn't you?"

My heart did a little leap. "Yes?" I asked.

"Well, we didn't see one," he continued. "But there's this guy that comes here every so often."

"Two or three times a week," the other guard said.

"Always thought he was a little strange. Comes over and buys enough food and supplies to keep a dozen fed. Anyway, this morning, some time after we saw you, he came into town and we chatted him up. He asked if we knew what sorts of food buns eat."

"We don't," said the other.

"Yeah. But I thought I'd ask you," the first continued, looking expectantly at me.

I looked between them. "So... a mysterious... this guy's a grenoil? Okay, so a mysterious grenoil came up this morning, and he usually buys lots of supplies and takes them out of the outpost, and this morning he wanted to know about bun foods?"

"He came maybe an hour after you left," the guard said. "He's still around, I think. We'd notice him leaving. I thought you might know what buns eat, since, uh, you know."

"Yeah," I said. "I'll go talk to him."

"You think that was just a coincidence?" Calamity asked once we were through.

"It could be," Awen said. "There's more than one bun around."

"Not that many," I said. "I think Booksie's one of the only buns in Port Royal. They're... we're, rare. And someone asking what to feed a bun today, of all days? Uh, maybe it's worth a little detour?"

There were only so many stores in a place like Rockstack, and only so many strange and mysterious grenoil going around buying heaps of supplies. So it wasn't all that surprising when we found our suspect at the general store, juggling a heavy backpack filled to the brim with boxes and jars and a couple of sacks.

Calamity smiled a very cat-like smile as he wrapped an arm around the grenoil's shoulder. "Hey there, buddy!" he said.

The grenoil jolted, nearly losing his grip on his burdens. "Who are you?" he snapped. "Unhand me!"

"Don't worry, friend, I just have a couple of very quick questions for you," Calamity said.

I glanced at the owner of the shop, who was eyeing the whole scene warrily, then smiled as big and innocent as I could manage. "Sorry about stopping you, mister. But we heard you asking about buns?" I wiggled my ears in emphasis. "We kinda lost our bun friend, and we were wondering if maybe you saw her?"

The grenoil stiffened, then shook his head. "No, I didn't see any buns."

"You were asking about their eating habits," the shopkeeper said.

"I was just curious," he replied.

"Our friend was kidnapped this morning," I said. "We're really worried. Maybe just answer a few questions? Please?"

"We promise it won't hurt," Calamity added helpfully.

***