Heretical Fishing

Book 2: Chapter 21: Exploration

The midmorning sun beamed down. I held a hand to my forehead, shielding my eyes. A sparse cloud drifted before the light, providing a modicum of relief. A soft breeze blew across the fields and the sugarcane leaves rustled and shifted around us, highlighting the silence that stretched between Barry, Helen, and I.

“So...” I said, drawing the word out. “New building, huh?”

Barry sighed.

“How did you know?”

As I went to answer, the cloud partially shielding the sun was swept away, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Is there somewhere we can talk inside?” I gestured at the ornate door. “I have a splitting headache and it’s bright as hell out here.”

“Are you sure you want to see...?”

“Yeah, but can we talk about it inside?”

“All right.” Barry turned to Helen. “Would you mind taking Fischer down? I’ll just finish concealing the outside, then come join you.”

“You’re sure?”

She arched an eyebrow, giving him a dangerous look.

“Are you implying I can’t do it as well as you, dear?”

Wisely, Barry hopped off the ladder and put down his hammer.

“Nope! Thank you, my love.”

She nodded and rolled up her sleeves, and Barry led me to the door. It swung outward, and as we stepped inside, I gave Ruby a polite nod.

“Mornin’.”

She stood wide-eyed against a wall, her still-wet hair bound in a towel.

“Er—good, uh... morning?”

As Barry closed the door behind me, the light of day was blessedly banished. A soft orange glow suffused the chamber, climbing up from a stairwell that led down into the depths of the earth.

“There’s a place for us to sit downstairs,” Barry said, giving Ruby a wincing smile in passing.

I gave her a little wave.

“See ya later.”

She raised her hand haltingly.

“Yeah... later...”

As we walked down the stairs made of the same smooth brick, the soft orange glow came from sconces set in the wall. I stopped at one, cocking my head at the small flame inside. It burned behind a shield of glass, and there was no wick or coil from which the fire could be fueled. I leaned in closer and spotted a tiny hole in the stone brick beneath the flame.

Gas? I wondered. Or some sort of magical Xianxia land fuckery?

“Barry...?”

“No idea,” he answered. “They lit by themselves when I first came down and seem to turn off when someone hasn’t passed in a while.”

“And they turn back on when someone approaches again?”

“Just so.”

“Huh... neat.”

Step after step, we made our way further down. I expected it to get colder as we went, but the air remained pleasantly warm. We reached a flat section of floor, and a long, spacious hallway met us. It stretched out an impressive distance and had open doorways intermittently placed on either wall.

“So,” Barry said, looking down the hallway and avoiding my eyes. “How did you know...?”

“I felt the power coming in this direction, so I had a hunch it was you.”

“Oh...” He slowly turned to me. “It came from you...?”

“By ‘it’, do you mean that ungodly amount of essence or whatever your way? Yeah, mate—my bad. It wasn’t too much, I hope.”

He barked a laugh, and some of his weariness disappeared.

“It was entirely too much, but hey, look at the result.” He breathed deep, then let out a slow breath. “How did you do it?”

“Did I ever tell you how I made my house?”

“No.”

I opened my mouth to tell him, but then I looked into the first room.

A colossal round table made of what appeared to be a single piece of timber took up most of the space. Dozens of chairs surrounded it, and at the far end of the room, seven eyes went wide as they saw me: with her gaze locked on me, Sharon started rolling up a giant parchment she had been animatedly gesturing at; Private Pistachio nodded in greeting, his stoic features revealing nothing; Sergeant Snips slowly lowered from sight, her eye wide as it retreated from view; Rocky stared at me with a hint of accusation, daring me to say something, but then Snips’ claw shot up and dragged him from sight.

The sound of something hard smacking carapace rang out through the room, and Rocky let out a very feminine squeak.

We walked past the doorway, and I shook my head in amusement. I turned to Barry and started telling him all about my accidental house creation, sparing no detail. Barry’s forehead grew more and more lined as I spoke.

“Gold coins with a scythe and a face? Never heard of anything like it. Do you have any more?”

“Er... I did?” I gave him a rueful smile. “They were all consumed in building this place.”

“If you pictured a house and it built itself, what did you imagine last night?”

“Uh, that’s a little less straightforward. I couldn’t sleep, so I tried meditating on the coins. I realized I already had everything I needed, so I focused on protecting what I had.”

“Protecting what you had...” Barry repeated, tasting the words, his vision going distant. “And it sent the power my way...”

We strode onward, and I glanced into a room with a...

You have got to be kidding me...

Steam rose from a pool that took up most of the room, with boulders rising periodically from the heated liquid. There was an underground hot spring, complete with a trickling waterfall and shower cubicles on the far wall. I glimpsed a familiar shower head through one of the open doors, which was presumably where Ruby had come from.

Just when did they recruit her? I thought. I wonder if they also got Steven, or they only…

My thoughts trailed off as I noticed someone in the pool.

In the center of the hotspring, with his arms held out to his sides, the man in question let out a content sigh. Steven opened his eyes and peered out at the world with a half-lidded gaze and a ridiculously relaxed smile on his face.

It didn’t stay there long; he caught sight of me. His entire body went rigid and everything but his head dipped below the water’s surface. He slowly shifted, making his way around the boulder and disappearing behind it, never once taking his eyes off me.

Having missed the show, Barry was still gazing into the distance and walking along, so I jogged to catch up, laughing under my breath.

“What happened on your end last night?”

He shook his head as his eyes cleared.

“I was woken up by something tugging on my core—the power you were channeling my way, from what it sounds like. I went to the well to get a drink and the weight of your will folded me like a croissant.”

“Oh. Sorry about that...”

“It’s fine. I started thinking about all the things I had yet to do, and when I pictured creating a church for the.... uh...”

He shot a look at me, and I sighed.

“It’s fine, mate. I already know about the culty churchy shenanigans you’ve got going on. So you thought about building... what? A place for your heresy?”

I shot him a wink, and he gave me a small smile.

“That pretty much sums it up, yeah. I wanted to create something hidden for everyone.”

“So I wanted to protect the life I’ve carved out for myself here, and the System recognized that what you’re doing would do so. That’s... kind of a big deal.”

He grinned, and for the first time that morning, he looked as carefree as usual.

“I thought the same thing.”

I ran my hand along the stones as we walked on. They were cool and smooth, and as we approached a door, they grew even colder. I poked my head around the doorway, curious as to what I’d find.

A humid breeze blew out from an underground forest. The room was the biggest yet in both width and height, and saplings of different varieties sprouted up sporadically from the lush green grass covering the floor. In the center of the room sat the only mature tree, its trunk wider than any I’d seen in this world. Great roots extended down into the ground in every direction, and the tree’s bark was the deepest brown imaginable.

I gazed up at the roof as I stepped into the room; golden light beamed down from tiles set in the ceiling high above, so bright that they were hard to look at.

“That’s something...”

“That’s not even half of it, Fischer. This place...” Barry knelt down next to one of the saplings and touched its bark. “It’s already astounding, and I don’t think any of us are even close to understanding the whole of it yet.”

“Does that mean you don’t know the purpose of this tree room yet?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Do you?”

I grinned.

“No bloody clue, mate.”

“That makes two of us,” he replied, laughing.

I gazed down at the different saplings as we strode toward the tree in the middle of the room, and the air grew cooler with each step toward. I hadn’t properly appreciated the tree’s majesty from afar, but a sense of awe was inescapable when standing at its base. I reached out with one hand, pressed my palm against its smooth bark, and took a deep breath. The air smelled sweet, and I got the impression it was filled with life.

“How many more secrets are hidden down here, Barry?”

He didn’t respond, so I turned to look at him. His lips were pressed into a firm line, and they shifted as he considered something, his eyebrows furrowed.

I cocked my head.

“... mate?”

His eyes snapped up, his gaze firm.

“Do you trust me, Fischer?”

I didn’t have to think about it long.

“I do.”

He slowly nodded, his eyes unfocusing as he thought on what to say next.

“I don’t think you should go further in.”

My head rocked back.

“Can’t lie, mate—I didn’t expect that. There’s stuff I wouldn’t want to see?”

“Just that. I know how much you value your peaceful life here, and I respect that. I don’t want to introduce any unnecessary worries.”

I tongued my cheek as I considered for a long moment.

“Is it something that puts anyone in danger?”

His lips pursed, then he burst out laughing.

“No one is in danger, no.”

One side of my mouth curled up as I looked at him and fought down an undeniable sense of curiosity. I swept it aside.

“All right, mate. I trust you, and if you think it’s for the best, we can end our little tour here.”

“Thank you, Fischer.”

“Nah, thank you, mate. I appreciate everything you’re doing here to keep everyone safe.” The last hints of my headache were finally receding, and I stretched high as I stood from where I knelt by the tree. “seeing as though my tour is over, I think I’ll go mess with Snips a little bit before I leave—she’s entirely too cute when she’s guilty.”

Barry let out a soft chuckle.

“I’m guessing they’ll have retreated by now, but you’re more than welcome to try.”

“Oh, one more thing, Barry.”

“Yeah?”

“You should start collecting pearls.”

“... Pearls?”

“Yeah, mate. Pearls.”

Barry stopped walking, staring his incredulity at me.

“Why?”

I stopped too.

“Because they function the same as those strange golden coins. Whatever we did last night consumed dozens of pearls I had stashed away.”

“... You had dozens of pearls?”

“Yeah, something like that, but that’s not important.” I waved my hands dismissively, delighting in the look on Barry’s face. “What’s important, mate, is that you get more.”

***

In a room made of smooth bricks, Trent, the first in line to the throne of Gormona—and not at all resembling a toe by his estimate—sniffed.

“I suppose it’s a little better.”

Leroy gave him a flat stare.

“A little better?”

“That’s right.”

Leroy glanced around at the room’s features; a shower and a toilet, both of which had running water; a gigantic bed that was comfier than any Leroy had ever felt before; space and equipment for exercise; and even a small garden with one of those golden tiles that the room two doors down was with.

“You know, Trent, I think I hate you.”

Trent crossed his arms like a petulant child.

“You dare say such things to the crown prince of your kingdom?”

Leroy sighed.

“Yeah, I definitely hate you.”

“Pah!” Trent threw up his hands. “How am I supposed to be happy about being thrown into another prison?”

Leroy looked at the door and the black metal bars blocking the escape, then turned back to the idiot.

“You were locked in the last room too, but there you had to pee in a bucket.”

“The bucket doubled as a drum, and without it, you’ve removed my only source of fun.”

“You’re saying you’d be happier here if I got your pee bucket back?”

“It’s a percussive instrument, cultivator scum—not a pee bucket.”

Before Leroy could hit him back with some snark, a beautiful form entered the door beyond the bars of Trent’s prison cell. Barbara.

“I’ve brought lunch.”

Leroy smiled at his wife.

“Finally!” Trent said, perking up. “There better be something sweet this time.” He snapped his fingers at Leroy. “Fetch it for me, cultivator.”

Leroy gave him a sickly sweet grin.

“Gladly, prince.”

Trent’s toe-like face became even more detestable as he frowned at Leroy, clearly not expecting the polite response.

Leroy reached the bars, and Barbara passed him a plate with a croissant and dollop of jam, and a cup filled almost to the brim. He strode to Trent, set them on the ground, then made his way back to the bars.

“Before you get any ideas...” Leroy’s arm muscles bulged, and he swung with all his power at the black metal. The room reverberated with the strike, yet the bars held firm.

Trent’s eyes went wide and he gulped; Leroy smirked.

“There’s no chance of escape, so you may as well get comfy down here.”

Trent’s fear was swiftly hidden behind a strained smile, and he sat down before his food.

“Wait...” he looked down at the cup. “Why in Demeter’s busty chest is this water green, cultivator?”

He sniffed the contents, then took a tentative sip with raised eyebrows. As the flavor hit his tongue, he let out an appreciative mmm.

“That isn’t water,” Leroy answered. “It’s sugarcane juice.”

“It’s... it’s delicious!” Trent said, then started sculling the sweet liquid.

Leroy shot a look at Barbara—both their faces crinkled in shared amusement.