Frontier Chef: My Cooking Skills Are Broken-Chapter 41: Dinnertime

The little girl was biting at Ezra’s neck, but he’d fought with her enough times that an arm’s length, his hand at her collar, was zero threat.

"I want to stay with the fish!" she said.

Neve was walking behind them, fixing her hair back into a ponytail. She stuck the bone club back in the middle and the strands held taut.

Ezra yawned and shook the girl once, twice for good measure. "Didn’t you say they aren’t fishes? Besides, the beast-keeper was this close to throwing the bucket at your head."

He brought up his other hand and measured barely an inch with his finger and thumb. She didn’t like that answer at all. Instead, she kicked at his chin and he caught it mid-swing.

"Close," Neve said. "Next time aim for his eye."

"Don’t encourage her."

The buildings of Harken came into view and there was a crowd forming. Only this time it had nothing to do with Ezra. Which was weird considering he was the one who had conjured crowds twice in a row the day before.

Two figures were darting left and right across the commons, one big and wide, the other smaller and furry.

The smith had given up on politeness about halfway across the commons, and the escalating gasps didn’t help one bit.

Patches was ahead of him by twenty feet, the obsidian spear sideways in its teeth. The shaft dragged against the volcanic rock and left sparks in its wake.

Ezra brought the girl in front of him and kept her hanging, her bare legs dangling without purpose. "I have a little girl here, don’t harm us. We’re coming through."

"That spear is mine," the smith said. His beard was grayer than yesterday. "The obsidian took ages to refine. I told you this vermin stole it." He was talking to Ezra now, and paused when he saw the girl.

Patches reared up on its hind legs, locked both arms around the shaft, and dug its back paws into the volcanic road.

The girl was out of Ezra’s grip before he got a word out, and by the time he opened his mouth she was already across the commons with both hands on the shaft below Patches, her bare feet finding what grip they could on the stone.

The smith pulled and Patches and the girl pulled back. Nobody was going anywhere, and from the look on all three of their faces, nobody planned to be the first to admit it.

Neve stopped beside Ezra and watched. He could’ve sworn he saw the slimmest smile on her face.

"I think we’ll be here a while," Ezra said to Neve.

Her face was cold again. "I don’t care."

"One night," the smith said, through his teeth. "Your animal had it one night. I’m not asking for damages. I want it back before it ends up in a dune."

"That’s fair," Ezra said.

’I don’t have any food to bribe him this time.’

"Then do something."

The ground moved under all of them before he could.

One slow roll came from deep below, traveled up through the volcanic road, and hit the soles of his feet before he understood what it was.

Then still.

Then a second roll that didn’t stop.

Patches let go and bolted sideways, fur straight up its spine. The girl stumbled back on her bottom and the smith caught the spear as it came free. He stood holding it with both hands, beard and all but his eyes still scowling.

The rumbling went still. Even the vents had stopped hissing steam.

Then the ground split open from under the little girl.

Ezra grabbed her leg and pulled her from the emerging mouth of rigid teeth rotating in an outer ring. Volcanic stone and sand flew in every direction and the thing kept rising from under the ground.

’Too fucking close.’

The first worm was pale yellow-white, eyeless, and man-length, its jaw already cycling before it had fully cleared the ground. It tilted in the air for a second longer before bringing its full weight back into the ground.

’Whatever it’s made of is enough to break volcanic stone.’

Ezra threw the girl at Neve who had her bow already manifested. She mumbled something as she unsummoned the bow to catch the girl by the ankle.

"Watch her!"

"That should be your job, brute. I’m the Slayer here."

Ezra met her eyes across the commons as the ground started rumbling again.

"Watch me."

The west bell started ringing, followed by the east bells. Then all of Harken was ringing.

Harkenians cleared the open road. A fossil digger dropped a crate near the fountain and a second worm swung toward the sound before it had fully surfaced. A third broke through at the eastern passage, bigger than the first one.

A guard came out of the western corridor at a run and pulled up hard when he saw the commons.

"How many?" Ezra said. He caught Neve joining in with the crowd moving towards wherever was safer.

She didn’t look happy at all being stuck on baby-sitting duty, neither did the girl who was still flinging her limbs about.

"Can’t get a count from the north post. Ground’s still moving."

The smith stood with the spear in his hands. He looked at another worm finishing its arc over a building, mumbled something to himself and held the spear out to Ezra.

"Your fire won’t make a scratch on those worms," the smith said. "But this will keep its teeth from eating off your arm."

Ezra took it and ran.

The ground in front of him came undone and a teeth sprung out. This one was quicker than the rest.

Patches got there first on all fours and launched itself, driving its teeth into the yellow hide. It hit the ground rolling, shook its head once True to its name, it did strike first.

But the hide was fucking thick.

Ezra drove the spear into the same section where Patch’s teeth left marks. Volcanic glass skidded off the surface and the force came back up the shaft into his wrist. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

He pulled back, and the jaw was already orienting toward him. His Culling Arts guided his swing correctly, but the spear wasn’t enough to do the job.

"Wait, give it here, boy." The smith was behind him, failing to catch his breath. "I haven’t appraised it yet. Without that it’s functionally—"

Ezra held the spear up.

"Appraisal."

The smith stopped.

The spear lit from the inside out. Not the orange of Ember Arts—deeper than that, the engravings of the volcanic glass filling with molten heat.

[ Caldera Tooth Spear — ★★★★★ ]

> Profile: Volcanic obsidian harvested from active vent interior. Heat-formed. Edge self-maintains under sustained thermal exposure.

> Threat: Penetration force scales with wielder’s fire affinity. At sustained contact, heat transfers into target tissue on entry. Culling Arts compatible. Output amplifies under hearth proximity or active Ember Arts.

The power hit his hand the moment the appraisal closed. The shaft was warm against his palm and getting warmer, the obsidian pulling at his Ember Arts.

The smith was looking at the spear, his beard a state of shock. He’d cut that from the volcano wall himself.

Whatever he’d thought he was making, it hadn’t been this.

The ground cracked open again.

Two more worms broke the surface at the eastern passage simultaneously, jaws already cycling, and the sound they made when they hit the open air sent everyone still in the commons back against the walls.

Ezra rolled his grip on the shaft.

The obsidian threw heat back up through his palms, eager to be set free.

’Okay, I fuck with this.