Filled with laziness, Tom rolled around in bed until his feet could reach the floor before he fell off.
Jeez. It's still spring, so why is it this cold?
It hadn't even been this cold during the rain before.
Speaking of rain...
Pulling open the bedroom curtains, the sky was still covered in dark clouds while thick drops of water fell from above and slid down the glass.
Changing clothes, he put on a gray overcoat, creating an interesting contrast with the pair of brown boots that had become his favorite.
After the day Tom first arrived at the headquarters, Fox had provided him with additional clothes, including several styles for different climates and some darker, less flashy colors.
She's a bit clumsy, but she's an excellent professional at what she does.
He smiled while grabbing the book about hods from the small side table.
Tom's joints bothered him a little when he moved, as if they had stiffened, though not enough to stop him from continuing with what he planned to do.
And this nose wanting to run too? Ahh...
He complained mentally while wiping it with his forearm.
Only once he was already outside on the street in front of the headquarters did a thought occur to him.
Wow… I think the combination of getting soaked this morning and exhausting my hods during the ritual pushed me too hard.
That explains the absurd cold I'm feeling now that I wasn't feeling this morning. And the joint pain too...
It wasn't some unbelievable conclusion, just a bit frustrating, making him sigh in annoyance as he crossed the street beneath the veil of rain from the clouds.
Tom got a cold.
Umbrellas exist in this world, I remember seeing one or two people using them while I was heading to the cathedral.
Next time I'll ask Fox for one, or just buy one myself.
He kept his left hand inside the overcoat holding the book so it wouldn't get wet. That was the improvised solution he had found to protect it.
Arriving at the street below the one where the headquarters was located, Tom signaled for a carriage, which, being covered, gave him some shelter from the rain and wind until his destination.
"To the d'Kallivyeski Library!"
The driver then pulled on the horse's reins, beginning the journey.
…
Stopping in front of the large gothic building with stained glass windows, Tom stepped out before the library. Its massive doors were left slightly open because of the rain, but the lighting inside indicated the place was operating.
Tom simply entered.
Once again, the environment seemed empty, filled only by the presence and aroma of countless books around the many shelves.
Walking up to the librarian's counter, waiting there was a young-looking man with pale skin, a squarer jaw, slicked-back straight red hair, crimson eyes, and an almost empty glass containing a liquid of the same color beside him. And from his formal attire, only the vest was missing, probably stored away in some closet or something similar.
"Ruzz."
"Tom."
They briefly greeted each other.
Placing the book on top of the counter, Tom then suggested:
"I came to return the book about hods."
"Wow, a book that size and you already finished it."
The librarian seemed a little impressed.
The book itself wasn't huge, but it also wasn't thin enough for someone to read it completely within just a few hours or a little over a day.
Ruzz pulled out a small notebook, opened to a specific page and then checked the back cover of the hods book, comparing the records between the two.
"Alright. That'll be twelve zenns, converted, one krann and two zenns."
Feeling satisfied and somewhat relieved, Tom pulled the required amount of coins from the inner pocket of his overcoat.
"Can I ask about Clinton? After the first time I came here, I haven't seen him again."
"Ah. He's fine. He's the chief librarian and works during the night and morning shifts. Right now and the last time you came, it was around late afternoon and early evening. So it's not his schedule."
Answered the librarian while collecting the coins related to the loan.
You seem way less rude today, can I already call this a miracle? Tom amused himself with that thought.
Setting the returned book aside, Ruzz confronted Tom with a question.
"The last time you came here, you were looking for books about divine channeling rituals."
I can't even compliment you a little before you make me regret it? He tilted his head slightly to the side and parted his teeth in disappointment.
"Uh-huh."
The vampire then swirled the nearly empty glass of crimson liquid in circles before smiling and revealing his sharp fangs.
"Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Kind of, why?"
Without getting hung up on details, Tom really had achieved what he wanted with the divine channeling ritual, and the reason he implied he hadn't completely achieved his goal was to figure out what the vampire was scheming.
"I confess I felt bad for, in a way, refusing to help you further by not even providing a single critic for the ritual. Would you be interested in receiving one or perhaps several? Of course, discreetly and for a fair price."
Aaaa... Tom almost let out that sigh, but resisted the impulse in order to maintain his position in the conversation as if he knew little or almost nothing about the subject.
"That's tempting... I'm listening."
With the interest captured, Ruzz drank the final drops of the red liquid from the glass and then moved in on his "victim".
"I have available critiques of the Blind One, the Shadow of Life, and the Hermit Angel among the orthodox divinities, I have several from non-orthodox beings, and also some general critiques."
Raising his facial muscles, Tom ended up breaking character and showed genuine surprise.
One specific part of the vampire's statement caught his attention, especially the last part.
The section about specific gods didn't interest him at all, since he had no intention of making contact again, or at least not anytime soon.
There's more than one general criticism?
From his interpretation of Father Abel's words, only one collective general criticism was used.
"Tell me more about these general critiques."
Ruzz even turned his head and glanced sideways at Tom after hearing that statement. In his "plan", Tom was supposed to immediately ask for critiques tied to a specific divinity.
"Errm… I mean. Yes, I have some general criticisms you can use to communicate with some random being or with some group or pantheon."
What? You can do that?
Tom almost took a step backward.
The worst part is that the more I think about it, more it makes sense.
Even if someone didn't know the exact critic of a specific divinity, it didn't mean it was impossible to try reaching them through other known gods, using honorifics related to their power or the symbolism of their presence.
And I took the most problematic path with the fewest possible clues by using the general critic without any indication. Wow, that could've gone really badly.
The mercenary ascendant couldn't see himself, but at that moment he was sure something like a lamp had lit up inside his mind, because he had an idea.
After sniffing once, he made his move.
"OK Ruzz, your offer is interesting. But can I at least take a look at one of the general critiques? One of the general ones, not the specific ones, and then I'll decide whether I want to buy or not based on the potential I can sense from what you show me?"
While looking at the vampire, Tom imagined gears spinning inside his head, because the expression on the pale face turned introspective.
Has free sampling not been invented in this world yet?
If not, wow, they're missing out on a great practice for attracting customers and increasing product sales.
"Very well, Tom. You convinced me. I'll show you the most common critic, the least sophisticated one, after all I'll basically be giving you a critic for free by doing this."
So you noticed my plan...
Tom had to act at that moment to keep a serious face.
Pulling his notebook back over, Ruzz opened one of the final pages before writing something down. After finishing, he turned it upside down so Tom could read it.
Approaching the counter and scanning the page, Tom immediately narrowed his eyes in astonishment.
But isn't this...?
At the top corner of the page were the following words.
"Co Ha Tha Superiors"
Tom spent several long seconds reflecting on how to proceed from there. New questions arose in his mind and he was already almost completely dropping the character, because he had been surprised once again.
Recovering himself, he decided to take the initiative, asking the vampire for the fountain pen.
The vampire set the glass back on the counter and handed the pen to Tom, who took it and wrote something below the critic.
"CHTSPR"
"Is it the same thing?"
He turned the notebook back toward the librarian.
Retracting his sharp fangs, the vampire heavily nodded.
"I had imagined you might already know this critic, after all, as I said before, this is the most common one. Now let me ask you something."
"Was the one who passed this critic to you some priest, bishop, or low-level member of the black market?"
Tom pinched his own chin before nodding.
"Yes, why?"
"It's pretty obvious, because what you wrote is a simplified criticism. It only uses the consonants from the criticism without repeating them, it's a way to 'encrypt' the content."
With that said, Ruzz closed the notebook.
"But anyway, are you going to want the other critiques or not?"
Meanwhile, Tom was still processing the new information he had received.
"Oh, so, how much do the other critiques cost?"
"The general ones cost 450 zenns each. The specific ones are one obra for unknown divinities, while the orthodox ones start at 1500 zenns or more."
Fweeeew.
Tom let out a whistle of shock after hearing those prices.
And the orthodox ones are even more expensive? What the hell, man.
"My friend… so, I'm actually not going to take any."
"They're at an excellent price. You won't find them cheaper anywhere else on the black market. I also doubt any church official would tell you."
Gesturing something close to a "bye" with his hand, Tom turned around refusing the offer, leaving the vampire behind with a somewhat grumpy expression.
He kept thinking about the matter during the entire walk out of the library and while calling for a carriage to head back. Upon sitting down, several "pieces" clicked together inside his mind, and he couldn't control his facial expression at all.
No fucking way!
"No fucking way!"
His thoughts and speech synchronized as they elaborated a hypothesis. If it was correct, his "free sample" had been more than worth it.