Chương 39: Redcap Pepper Jerky

I looked at my recipe: Recipe: Redcap Pepper Jerky Rarity: Uncommon Type: Monster / Plant Core Ingredient: Redcap Flesh Ingredients: Firepepper Seeds Salt Honeycap Nectar Rendered Fat Description: Made from thin strips of Redcap flesh coated in rendered fat, honeycap nectar, and enough firepepper seeds to make someone reconsider all of their life choices. This sweet and spicy dish is then heavily salted and smoked over a low flame until dry, chewy, and above all—spicy!

Instructions: Cut the redcap flesh into thin, even strips. Remove any dense clusters of spores, unless excessive heat and/or hallucinations are desired. Pre-cook the strips in a pan using rendered fat and honeycap nectar. Season heavily with firepepper seeds and salt. Smoke over a low, steady heat until the outside is dark and dry, but the inside remains slightly tender.

"Alright," I said.

"Time to get to work."

"What can I do?" Pella asked excitedly, her pig-like tail coiling and springing behind her. I put my hand on my chin.

"I think that I need to handle anything to do with the core material. The redcap flesh, to be specific. I'm going to prepare it. Could you gather the rest of the ingredients?" Pella nodded and began gathering things from the shelves and cupboards. I focused on my own tasks. I held out my knife and grimaced. It was caked in dried blood, chipped, and cracked. The edge had grown uneven from everything I'd put it through, and the handle was stained dark where my fingers usually rested. Pella glanced over my shoulder.

"You can't use that," she said.

"Here—" With a flash, she spun a knife in front of my face. I hadn't even seen where she had pulled it from.

"You can use this tonight. I'll need that back. It's enchanted." Sure enough, the blade held a light-red glow, and I could feel warmth flowing off it. I took the knife. It felt heavier than mine. Quite a bit so. Deceptively so. I set the redcap flesh on a cutting board. In total, I had around twelve chunks. I took one, held it end to end, and then slid the knife into the edge and cut all the way through, pulling off a thin strip—like bacon. The strip held a few spots of darkened spores.

The recipe called for removing some of them, as they could be hallucinogenic. That would be problematic. I used the tip of the knife to pop out the larger darkened spore clusters, leaving the pale flesh underneath. I left a few smaller spots intact. Again and again, I cut strips, removed spores, and set the flesh aside. The enchanted blade passed through with barely any resistance. The redcap gave off a sharp, earthy scent, somewhere between wet bark and crushed pepper.

I gathered the spores themselves into a neat pile. It was then that Pella returned with the rest of the materials.

"This is everything," she said. She stared at the spores.

"I heard that redcap spores can give you a high like none other. Maybe later, you and I—""No," I replied." Humph. Suit yourself." I grabbed a pan and added rendered fat. Like the refrigerator, the stove did not work with wood and flames, but with crystals beneath a strange, thin stone disc. Pella did something, and the pan soon began to heat. The fat softened, melted, and spread across the iron with a faint hiss. I added the redcap flesh. As suspected, it looked like bacon as it sizzled and browned.

It, however, did not smell like bacon. It smelled like burning grass. Not entirely pleasant.

"Are you sure about this?" Pella asked, holding her nose. I shrugged.

"It usually goes this way. Trust the process."

"Alrighty," she replied, thrusting a fist into the air.

"Trustin' the process!" The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. I flash-fried the strips until browned, then added firepepper seeds, salt, and honeycap nectar. The nectar hissed as it hit the hot pan, coating the strips in a thin, glossy glaze. A sweet aroma rose through the harsher grassy smell, followed by a prickling heat that stung my nose. I looked around.

"I guess I should have checked before… Do you have an oven?" Pella smiled, reached down to the corners of the stove I worked on, and did something that I couldn't see. The entire stone slate fell in upon itself, twirling as it did until the disc sat at the bottom, surrounded by stone. It was a stone oven and stove combination.

"These stoneworkers are full of ingenuity," I said.

"And that must have cost you lot a pretty penny."

"What's a penny?" Pella asked. I waved her off with a hand.

"It cost quite a bit of coin," she said.

"But Rurick got it for a steal. He is friends with many a stoneworker. Lord Garran as well. He makes deals that I almost can't believe sometimes. I couldn't believe my wee eyes when he had this baby put in for me."

"Good boss," I said.

"The best." I set the half-cooked strips down on the spinning stone. I was wrong. It wasn't just a stove and an oven. It was like a microwave, too. I chuckled at the thought of magical radiation crystals… and then I imagined some crazy wizard making a nuke out of crystals. It wasn't funny anymore.

"We want to set the heat low," I said.

"As low as it'll go, if we can."

"Can do," Pella said, leaning down and tapping the stones.

"Those aren't hot?" I asked.

"Not to bare flesh." She closed the oven, and there was a soft pop, like air sealing shut.

"And all done," I said.

"And now we wait." Both of us stood awkwardly for a time. The kitchen had gone quiet, aside from the low hum of the crystals and the faint clatter of the tavern beyond the door. I stared around and fiddled with my thumbs.

"Want to get a drink?" Pella asked.

"Yeah, sure. Why not?" Back in the bar, I was surprised to find Vaelith and Rurick still talking. Vaelith was completely gone. Lost in the spirits. Her speech was so slurred I wasn't sure she was speaking any language at all. Rurick seemed like he had long given up his conquest to bed her and now simply wanted her to leave.

"I think you've had enough," I said to Vaelith. She turned to me. She said… something and then laughed to herself." Ugh… nobody likes a sloppy drunk," I said, waving my hand over her." Cure Poison." Mana: 10/20 I felt magic travel from my hand into Vaelith and, suddenly, her eyes went wide. She stared down at her hands, the red flush disappearing from her face almost instantly.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"You didn't hear me? I cured poison. Alcohol is basically a poison, and I was curious if that would work. Guess it does."

"Do you know what you've done?" she asked, her voice low and animalistic, like a warning before an attack.

"Do you know what you've done?" Rurick and Pella stepped back. I started walking backward as well.

"Now wait a second, Vaelith… whatever you're planning to do to me, I was only trying to help—" Vaelith stood, grabbed me, and embraced me in a hug.

"That is incredible!" she said.

"I can drink and drink and drink to my heart's content, and you can just cure me. Bam! No more hangovers. Not for this princess. First the food, and now this. You are turning out to be my best servant."

"Wait," I replied.

"Who was your best before?"

"The cow."

"Ah." Vaelith turned.

"Ya' hear that, barkeep? I'm fixin' to keep on goin' with another round—wait, where did he go?" True to it, Rurick had used the opportunity to escape. I didn't blame him one bit. Pella laughed.

"Took his chance and got away. Sneaky little cat he is. You can drink with us." The three of us drank and told Pella of our journeys so far. The tavern remained loud around us, mugs knocking against stone tables and voices rising over the fire. Rurick had returned, but kept a wide distance from Vaelith who, on occasion, would glance his way and give him a smile. And for some strange reason, Pella wouldn't stop staring at me. I ignored it and, eventually, it was time to head to bed.

Pella said that the food should be done early if I wanted to retrieve it myself. I told myself I'd wake up early and hoped it was true. Pella hadn't drunk much, and I cured myself before realizing that I had limited mana. Vaelith complained about a possible hangover, but it was the woman's own fault. How had she gotten drunk again after I had healed her? In the room, there were four simple beds. The mattresses were thin, the blankets rough, and moonlight spilled through a narrow window above. No sign of Marnie.

Sable slept in a corner bed by the window, her lyre leaning against the wall. I set Vaelith in one bed and took another. It hadn't been more than an hour before I was woken by the sound of someone trying, and failing, to enter stealthily. I gripped my knife, expecting goblins, but soon found it was just Marnie. I breathed a sigh of relief. She found the empty bed and laid down. I was almost asleep when the sound of soft sobbing woke me. Marnie had gone out somewhere, and where she had gone had not been pleasant.

She now quietly wept to herself, and it was clear she was trying to hold it in. Too tired to think about it now—that was just a problem for tomorrow.