After once again closing her eyes to help adjust to the light, Zoe surveyed the war zone–for a lack of a better word.
Tables had been flipped on end. Several propped up against the rear exit while the rest served as barricades and obstacles between the front door and the bar’s counter. Most of the chairs had been set up in the same manner.
Sitting behind the counter was a fairly disheveled Tom, currently in the middle of sampling his own wares.
“You gave me a right fright,” he said between drinks.
“I’m sorry about that,” Zoe said as she slowly stepped into the parlor, picking up her backpack before she moved. She kept a wary eye on the pistol lying on the counter. While not knowing much about mundane weaponry, the pistol made her somewhat nervous. “It wasn’t my intention. Has something happened?”
Despite being set up for war, Zoe couldn’t spot a single bullet hole around the room. She was fairly certain that she would notice anything made by that gun. It looked large enough to take out an elephant and still have enough punch to kill a horse on the opposite side.
“‘Has something happened,’ she says as she walks into my bar at such a strange hour. The lights in the sky weren’t enough for you, Zoe? Or did you miss them completely?”
“Well, yes. I had noticed that. But I hadn’t realized they warranted all of this.” She waved her hand around the tables, ending at the pistol laying on the counter.
“Apparently you missed out on the zombies and other monsters wandering the streets over the last few years.”
“New shop policy,” he said with a smile, “anything strange happens and I’m closed.” After taking another swig of his drink, he held out the bottle towards Zoe.
“No thank you,” she said, waving a hand in front of her. Realizing that hand still held her dagger, she quickly sheathed it.
“Suit yourself. So, what is going on out there?”
“Not a clue. Wayne is talking with some people to try to find out the answer to that. However, I’ve been wandering around and haven’t noticed anything immediately dangerous. No creatures running the streets, at least.”
“Well, that’s a small relief.” He started to take another drink, but paused with the bottle halfway to his mouth. After a moment of deliberating with himself, Tom capped the bottle and placed it somewhere behind the counter. “So, what brings you to my humble bar at such a late hour? I take it you didn’t come for just a social call.”
Zoe shook her head. “Nothing dangerous, but it might cause your business some problems. I need salt. Non-iodized sea salt. Everything you have, probably. I already cleaned out the local food mart–they didn’t have quite enough on their shelves. The woes of living in a small town, I suppose. Without a clerk present, I didn’t want to search around their back room.”
“Must be desperate times,” Tom said, lifting an eyebrow, “if you’re stealing from the local shops.”
“I left my name and number, along with a list of everything that I fully intend to pay for once someone contacts me.” Zoe let out a small sigh. She had had to teleport straight into the building. There had been a momentary concern over alarms before deciding that Shalise came first. “And I intend to reimburse you as well. But yes, something of an emergency with a student. One unrelated to the changes in the sky.”
Eva had mentioned Hell’s changes and its likeness to the sky over Brakket City, but someone chasing after Shalise didn’t seem to line up with that particular problem.
“Welp, let’s take a look-see at what I’ve got in the back room.”
Tom pulled up the part of the bar that allowed access behind the counter. He gestured for her to follow as he slipped into the door labeled ‘Employees Only’.
The room itself wasn’t all that large. Larger than your average pantry–Zoe couldn’t touch the shelves on both sides at the same time–but not by much. It did, however, have a large trap door in the center of the floor. A wine cellar of some sort, Zoe assumed.
But they weren’t headed there.
Tom stopped at a section of the shelves labeled ‘Dry goods’ and bent over to pull out a large bag.
Zoe almost sighed in relief as she spotted the label. Twenty-five pounds of sea salt would work perfectly. She had eleven, single pound containers from the grocers.
“I think this is all I’ve got,” he said, hefting the bag over his shoulder. “Unless I start draining the table shakers.”
“That should be plenty. Thank you, Tom. You might have just saved a student.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever done that before. Strange day.”
“Indeed.”
“What do you want done with the salt?”
In response, Zoe pulled out her focus–her wand, not her dagger. No need to make Tom more nervous. With her wand, she dropped the sack straight to between.
Tom stumbled slightly at the sudden lack of weight on his shoulder. He looked around as if expecting it to be levitating above him. “Handy trick,” he said when he failed to find it.
