Chapter 56: Tea, Coffee and Cake
Peaker was the first to wake up.
His dark eyes flickered open, blinking away the heavy crust of a deep, uninterrupted sleep.
The absolute fullness in his stomach was still there, a solid, heavy lump of digested mountain mutton that made any sudden movement feel like a monumental chore.
Grunting softly, he dragged his upper body off the rough fabric and sat upright on his straw mattress, rubbing his temples to clear the lingering fog from his mind.
A few moments later, Ghost let out a low, rumbling groan that sounded like a shifting tectonic plate.
He sat on his mattress too, his majestic blonde mane, still coated in the dull, silver grey ash powder of his merchant disguise, sticking out in every direction as he stared blankly at the dirt floor, waiting for his brain to catch up with his biological functions.
Finally, Evan’s eyes snapped open.
There was no grogginess in his transition from sleep to wakefulness.
He sat on his mattress too, his movements fluid and silent despite the artificial wrinkles of the disguise paste tightening on his face.
The three of them sat in a silent triangle, the initial warmth of the morning disappearing as the stark reality of their mission flooded back into the room.
They were deep within the outer ring of an enemy clan planning a regional bloody rebellion, and the clock was ticking.
’When do we assassinate the guy?’ Evan asked them, his voice flat, low, and entirely devoid of any morning hesitation.
Ghost ran a massive, ash stained hand through his hair, his thick brows furrowing as he forced his mind back into a tactical headspace.
’We need to make a plan first,’ Ghost stated firmly.
’We can’t just stroll into the central compound and put a bullet or a fist through a cultivator’s skull. We don’t know their guard rotations, we don’t know the exact layout of the inner part of the clan and we don’t know his personal habits. We will make a plan tonight, under the cover of darkness when the enforcers change shifts.’
Peaker stretched his arms over his head, his joints popping loudly in the cold air.
The lingering taste of savory fat and garlic from the previous night’s legendary roast was still coating his throat, making him crave something to break the heavy density in his gut.
’If we’re staying put until tonight, let’s have some sweet tea and a sweet cake,’ he suggested, a lazy grin splitting his face.
’My throat feels like it’s been lined with grease, and I need a sugar kick to actually stay awake for this planning session.’
Evan looked at Peaker, and said,
’Nah, I don’t think you should eat a sweet thing with a sweet thing, though it is your choice of course,’
Evan countered, his tone dry and clinical.
’The flavors will just cancel each other out and leave a cloying film in your mouth. Personally, I’ll have a bitter coffee with a sweet cake.’
Ghost let out a raspy chuckle, shaking his head.
’I am good with the sweet option, give me the sugar.’
With the consensus reached, Ghost pushed his massive frame off the mattress.
He adjusted his hunched, elderly merchant posture, pulling his coarse grey tunic straight before slipping through the canvas flap of their partitioned stall.
He walked out into the main tavern area to find the heavy set innkeeper and give the order.
Meanwhile, Peaker and Evan remained inside the quiet stall.
The silence between them was comfortable.
Peaker leaned his head back against the timber support post, his eyes tracing the seams of the tent.
A couple of minutes passed before the canvas flap rustled again.
Ghost came back inside, ducking his head to clear the low frame, and sat back down on his mattress.
A few seconds later, a young, pale vampire servant, likely a baseline mortal from the outer slums working for scraps, timidly stepped into the stall.
The servant carried a crude, splintered wooden tray containing their breakfast.
The servant set the tray down on the low wooden stool in the center of the trio and quickly scurried away without making eye contact.
Arranged on the rough wood were two steaming clay mugs of sweet tea, giving off a rich, herbal aroma laced with heavy honey.
Beside them sat three single person sweet cakes that were dense and golden pastries that had been fried in lard and dusted with a fine layer of unrefined beet sugar.
On the far edge of the tray sat a single, dark clay cup filled with a thick, boiling liquid that smelled intensely of roasted, burnt beans, Evan’s bitter coffee.
For the next fifteen minutes, the stall was filled only with the rhythmic sounds of chewing and swallowing.
Peaker tore into his sweet cake, washing it down with gulps of the honeyed tea, thoroughly enjoying the massive rush of sugar.
Ghost ate his portion in three massive bites, his giant jaw working through the dense pastry with ease.
Evan took a bite of the sugary cake, letting the sweetness coat his tongue, before taking a sip of the black, bitter coffee.
The intense, unyielding bitterness of the brew instantly cut through the cloying sugar, cleansing his palate and shocking his nervous system into absolute alertness.
It was a perfect, functional balance.
After drinking and eating every last crumb on the tray, the heavy density of the tent began to feel claustrophobic.
The air inside the stall was stagnant, choked with the smell of their own breath, old straw, and the lingering grease from the tavern kitchen.
Evan stood up, his bones giving a faint click.
He needed a moment of isolation to realign his thoughts before they plunged into the dirty mechanics of the assassination plan.
He moved past Ghost and Peaker, stepping out of the partitioned stall and navigating the muddy, straw lined paths of the main tavern area.
The morning crowd was sparse, consisting only of a few deeply depressed, pale vampires staring blankly into their empty cups.
Evan pushed aside the heavy, wet leather flap of the main entrance, stepping completely outside the structure.
The transition was instant and brutal.
The cold mountain wind rushed into his face like a physical slap, the sheer intensity of the freezing air cutting through the dull warmth of his food coma.
He closed his eyes for a second, letting the bitter cold bite into his skin, forcing the remaining lethargy to evaporate from his mind.
As the wind swirled around him, lifting a few strands of his dark hair, Evan reached up and rubbed the surface of his skin.
The texture was rough, covered in the sticky, dried layer of the merchant disguise paste and the fine dust of the outer ring’s muddy lanes.
He suddenly realized he hadn’t even washed his face since they left the sunflower valley.
A subtle smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked out across the bleak landscape.
’These dirty bastards... after living with them... even I forget to wash my face,’ Evan said, his voice a soft, amused whisper that was immediately carried away by the howling wind.
His gaze drifted past the spiked wooden fences of the outer ring, lifting toward the massive, towering mountain peak that dominated the northern horizon, a colossal monument of dark slate entirely filled with heavy, pristine white snow that sparkled under the pale winter sun.
’I wonder where and what Hannah and Santiago are doing now.’
