Chương 9: Goblin-Eye Soup

Fishy hovered behind me for the rest of the trip back. The fish, whom I had come to think of as a he, swiveled and spun around and around, while doing the occasional flip in his water globule.

"Master," it asked.

"Where are we going?"

"To Lina's," I replied.

"And it's not Master, it's Rook."

"Wook, Kook, Look," Fishy replied, trying a handful of words that were somewhat close to my name.

"Just Rook," I said. Eventually, we made it back to town around two-ish. There was still plenty of daylight to be had. Bramblewick hummed with its usual afternoon noise: cart wheels creaking over packed dirt, shop doors opening and closing, chickens clucking from coops. The sun sat high and warm, baking the dust until it smelled dry and faintly sweet. As I stepped toward Lina's family's shop, I saw Madam Moolisa staring at me from behind the side gate.

She practically beamed with delight, her bell clanging against her neck as she shifted her weight. Her dark eyes first drifted to me… and then to Fishy. She leaned low and puffed out her frustration.

"Friend?" Fishy asked.

"Sure," I said, "friend." Fishy floated down toward Madam Moolisa… and the cow tried to take a chomp out of him.

"Danger, danger," Fishy said, twirling about, the water globule spinning around my head. Sunlight flashed through it, throwing little distorted ripples across my face and the shop wall.

"Knock it off," I complained, "you're scaring her." Madam Moolisa huffed and stomped her hooves until Fishy darted away, floating high up in the air. Her tail flicked hard enough to slap her own flank.

"You knock it off too," I said to the cow. She huffed her frustration and then returned to grazing. I pushed the door open and stepped inside Lina's shop.

"Wait for me," Fishy said, hovering down and barely making it inside before the door shut. The shop smelled of burlap, dried herbs, and old wood. Warm light spilled through the front windows, catching dust motes in the air and glinting off rows of jars along the shelves.

"Ah, right on time. Hope you're hungry—" Lina appeared and then froze, staring at Fishy. Fishy stared back at her, a single bubble escaping his mouth and popping at the top of the water globule.

"What is that?" Lina asked flatly.

"A fish," I replied.

"Yeah… What sort of fish?"

"A silver one?"

"Yes, I can see that… but is it a magical fish?"

"I don't know… why?" Lina slammed some items onto the counter. The jars and small bundles rattled against the wood.

"Because it's floating in a magical ball of water!"

"Oh that? Hadn't noticed."

"So you really aren't going to tell me?"

"Not much to tell. This floating fish started talking to me. I named them Fishy. They became my companion."

"You named it? Are you an idiot?"

"... Wait, why?" Lina slapped her forehead.

"Naming things is one step in how to make something a companion. Has the system—" Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. I scratched the back of my neck.

"Yeah, the system already says he's my companion."

"He?" she asked.

"How do you know?" I shrugged.

"I don't. Not really. Just got the feeling it's a he, you know?" She narrowed her eyes.

"I'm too sober to deal with this right now. Come on, it's time to cook."

"Fishy," I said, "stay here."

"Cook?" the fish asked.

"Food? Me hungry."

"And what would a fish eat, anyway?"

"Here," Lina said, pulling a small loaf from behind the counter.

"It can eat some of this. Fish like bread… right?" She threw the loaf to me. I pulled off small pieces and tossed them into the water globule. Fishy ate them as they came. Each bit of bread drifted for only a moment before he snapped it up, leaving faint crumbs swirling through the orb. He said nothing but continued to eat. I guess it was satisfactory.

"Now stay here," I said. Fishy didn't answer, but floated down, staring at each item Lina had set up to sell to customers. His water orb bobbed near a display of folded cloth, close enough to make me nervous.

"Is that thing going to wreck anything?"

"You know about as much as I do." Lina sighed.

"Fine… let's just get to cooking, eh?" We cooked for a time, following the directions laid out in the recipe. Behind the shop, Lina had a small cooking space set aside, likely for testing wares, brewing simple mixtures, or preparing whatever counted as a quick meal when business ran long. A squat iron pot sat over a contained cooking flame, with a stained prep table beside it. The room was warmer than the shopfront, and the air held the layered smell of dried roots and old smoke.

"It just says to boil the mushrooms and vegetables, but with no mention of stock," Lina said.

"I suppose that we can add the bitterroot and fat here as well." I did as she said. She let me handle the cooking from start to finish, only helping me by giving me ingredients or reading the recipe off a paper from which she had copied from my status window. The mushrooms went in first, thin slices darkening as they hit the water. Potatoes followed, pale chunks bobbing up through the steam. Bitterroot gave off an earthy smell as it softened, the kind of scent that made me think of wet soil and cellar walls.

The fat melted across the surface in little shimmering pools. Eventually, the water began to boil, yet it smelled little better than boiling mud.

"Alright," she said, "add the eyes." I held the brown sack over the pot, turned it around, and heard the plopping sound as both hit the water. There was a slight hiss as the slime evaporated, and the eyes floated to the top, one turning to look directly at me as I boiled it. My stomach churned, and the smell was unbearably awful. It rose thick and foul, like rotting meat boiled in pond water. I gagged more than once. Lina as well.

"Did we do something wrong?" she asked as the cook was nearly complete.

"I guess we'll see," I replied, having absolutely no hope that anything created from that unholy concoction was edible.

"Alright, lastly add the moonleaf." I pulled on the sprig, and small leaves fell into the pot. The leaves landed lightly on the surface, soft green against the murky broth.

"And now, the pinch of salt." Lina slid a small piece of parchment forward with a tiny bit of salt already ground up and ready. Carefully, I picked up the paper with one hand, and with the other, between two fingers, pinched the salt and— Poof. Into the soup. For a moment, I swear I could feel something change. A slight glow came from the pot. Suddenly, a freshness filled the air. It smelled of spices; strong and vivid. The meatiness of the soup was powerful, but not overpowering.

The stock had thickened in a heartbeat, whereas before it was little thicker than water. Steam rolled upward in rich, glossy waves, carrying the scent of mushrooms, browned fat, soft potatoes, and fresh herbs. The eyes had slightly melted and now looked more like two cracked eggs atop the soup. The broth had shifted from an ugly gray-brown to something deep and golden, with little flecks of moonleaf drifting across the surface.

"That looks… good," Lina said.

"Smells good too," I replied. Carefully, Lina scooped us two bowls and handed me a wooden spoon. The bowl was hot against my palm.

"You first," she said. I glared at her.

"You know… just in case." I put my spoon into the soup, scooped up the eyeball, and forced my quivering hand to move it to my mouth. I opened up and ate the spoonful. Flavor exploded across every tastebud I had as a rich, earthy wave washed over them. The tenderness of the potatoes played well with the thin-sliced mushrooms, and the bitterroot was not so bitter once it had intermingled with the animal fat. And the goblin eye itself…

it had close to a marrow-like flavor, and not a hint of foulness that I had anticipated. Near the end, the moonleaf cut through, almost cleansing to the palate, like a flavor of mint. It was an exquisite taste unlike anything I'd ever had. Different in an exciting way. If I had to rate it, I'd have given it a 7. 5 out of 10. And with my personal scoring system, that is saying something. And I… I had made it. Lina stared at me." Oh!" she said.

"From your face, I can tell it was good. So… what did it taste like?" With something close to tears in my eyes, I said, "It was fantastic." Lina stared down at the soup as if she held gold in her hands. As carefully as someone handles fine china, she scooped up the eyeball and went to eat it.

"Food!" I heard a voice cry as Fishy, globule and all, rammed into the spoon. Fishy opened his mouth… and ate the goblin eye.