The crab tapped on the floorboards with a restless leg as he stared impatiently at the road.

  Nearby, John opened his toolbox, its many drawers and partments unfoldily as he did it, the tents all correctly arranged and lined in their perfectly sized spots. Hammers of different types, chisels of different sizes, levels and rulers, everything within had clear signs of wear, yet was all carefully ed and clearly well maintained.

  The grizzly marieved a measuring tape and calmly made his way to one er of the ptform.

  “You know,” the old pipe smoker said to the crab, “if you keep doing that, yoing to drill a hole into the wood. Wouldn’t want to promise the structural iy of your floor now, would you?”

  “Bah!” Balthazar excimed, starting to pace bad forth. “I shouldn’t have sent a drunk into town with a buny money. What was I thinking? What if he never even es back?”

  “Crab,” the carpenter said, as he crouched down with difficulty and stuck the tip of his measuring tape to the er of a floorboard, “he left only a few minutes ago. You o calm yourself.”

  “You don’t get it,” the distressed mert said. “I gave him a pouch with 50 gold. He’s surely going straight to the first tavern he sees to drink it all away! He’s not even going to remember the list of supplies you gave him anymore. He probably already used it to wipe his lips after downing the sed or third bottle.”

  “I think you should give the fel a bit more credit than that,” said John as he stood up and stretched himself with a hand pressed against his lower back. “He strikes me as the hoype underh all the booze. Besides, is 50 gold really going to set you bauch that it’s worth all that worry?”

  Balthazar sighed as he watched the man leisurely walk his way to the opposite er of the trading post, measuring tape stretg behind him.

  “I’m sure you find him to be very ving, yes,” the crab said, “but that’s probably just his natural charisma in a.”

  “Don’t know about that,” the man said, while bringing the tape down on the end of the floor’s er. “I heard a lot about the charismatic golden crab down by the pond outside of town, and as far as I’m ed, the jury is still out oher you’re the trustworthy kind.”

  “A bit harsh,” Balthazar said, “but I’ll let it slide.”

  “You o learn to quiet your mind, fel. It does you no good to worry so much over things you ’t do nothing about.” He looked down at the number oape and took his pencil from behind his ear. “Mind passihat piece of paper?”

  “What? This?” asked the crab, pointing to the man’s notes o the toolbox.

  “Yep. That’s the one.”

  Balthazar grabbed the paper and skittered across the ptform to give it to the man. “Here you go.”

  “Much obliged,” John said, jotting down the measurements on the paper.

  “But yes, like I was saying,” the upset mert tinued, “how am I supposed to be sure a drunk isn’t—”

  “ you do me a favor?” the old man interrupted. “ you unhook the tape oher end over there? These old knees aren’t made for bending up and down anymore.”

  “I… yes, sure,” Balthazar agreed, rolling his eyes as he walked back across the trading post to the opposite er. “Just unhook a ght?”

  “That’s right.”

  The crab flicked the tape with the tip of his pincer and watched it retract towards the man while walking ba the same dire.

  “So, point being,” Balthazar tried saying again, “could I really—”

  “My, my. Quite the damage you got here,” John interrupted once more.

  The carpenter was looking at the area where the tree trunk had previously fallen and broken the fence, as well as damaged some floorboards.

  “How did you mao do this?” the man asked.

  Balthazar sighed. Both because he did not like to be interrupted while doing one of his favorite activities—talking—and also because that area and the events behind it were still a sore spot for him.

  “It was before I decided to hire a proper professional to do the roof,” the crab muttered between his mouth parts. “One of the big tree trunks over there fell down and crashed through it.”

  “Mhmm. Going to o repce the railing here. ’t have someone falling off from here now, we? And this floor needs patg up. Someone might lose a boot to that.”

  “Sure, but as I was…”

  “Be a pal and pass me that level over there, will you, youngster?”

  Balthazar sched up his mouth as he turo the toolbox and grabbed the level tool sitting at the top.

  “There’s your level.”

  “Appreciate it,” John said, as he received the tool and carefully pced it on top of the wooden fence. “Ah, there it is, just as I thought. Yoblin fel made a good effort, for a novice, but this railing is irely straight.”

  “Really? It looks fio me,” the mert said, eyeing the top of the guardrail. “Maybe a little crooked, but I think it’s fine.”

  “Yes,” said the woodworker with a chuckle. “I’m sure you do.”

  “What’s so funny?” the grumpy crab asked.

  “Not a thing,” the grizzly old man answered, still smiling to himself.

  The crab wasn’t sure what was amusing the old man so much. He was certainly a strange one. Not necessarily in a bad way, but Balthazar couldn’t quite figure him out yet.

  “Anyway, where was I?” Balthazar said.

  “Right here.” The carpenter poio a cracked floorboard underh them. “This is as far as this floor needs repg. I’ll probably fix up the fend the floor before I start on the roof. Make sure the whole thing is dht.”

  “Oh, well, that’d be nice, but will probably raise the cost of the whole project,” the crab said. “Which reminds me, we still haven’t discussed the budget.”

  “Don’t you worry, I won’t charge you ara beyond the inal price for the roof.”

  “That’s great and all, but… we still haven’t determined what the inal price for the roof is going to be.”

  “Paaaaaarrrrrtner!”

  Balthazar recoiled as he heard Tristan’s voice yelling from the entrance.

  “I have returned!” the drunkard announced, still sounding happily drunk.

  “Go on,” John said, while adjusting his smoking pipe into the er of his mouth and rolling up his sleeves. “I’ll get started on patg this up while you make sure our errand boy didn’t spend your precious gold on the wrong screws.”

  Begrudgingly, the crab turned around and made his way across the ptform.

  He almost didn’t want to find out what Tristan had doh the money. How likely would it be that a drunk, when given a pouch of gold s, would go and buy carpentry supplies instead of wasting them all away oing more drunk?

  As it would seem, not that unlikely.

  Stumbling his way into the trading post, the former mert pced the wooden box he was carrying in his arms on the able he could find. I Balthazar could spot not bottles, but actual hardware supplies.

  “You… you actually got the stuff?” the incredulous crab asked.

  “Course I did, partner!” Tristan proudly answered, a big smug grin on his red face. “I told you I was, hic, good for it.”

  Balthazar wasn’t sure what he found more unbelievable, the fact that he had actually goo town and used the gold to purchase the instructed supplies, or that, even after all those hours, he was still as inebriated as he was.

  “And you’re sure you got everything?” Balthazar asked, still trying to g to the belief that it was all too good to be believed.

  “Sure did!” the drunk said, reag into his vest’s pocket and pulling out the list John had made. “At first I thought the gold you gave me wasn’t going to be enough for everything, but then I realized… heh… I was seeing double, so I only needed half of the things I thought.”

  The crab looked at the giggling drunkard with skepticism.

  “Let me see that,” he said, snatg the list from the other’s hand.

  “It’s all there. I checked thrice!” Tristan said, while holding up two fingers.

  “Nails… check. Wooden screws… check,” Balthazar murmured, as his eyes went bad forth between the list and the tents of the box. “Wood glue… check. I ’t believe it. It really is all here. Even the right size of dowels for the butt joints.”

  “Heh, you said butt,” the drunk man-child mumbled between chortles.

  “But there’s no way this all came down to exactly 50 gold,” the baffled mert said. “e on, admit it. You pocketed the rest ao the tavern, didn’t you?”

  “ristan answered, shoving a hand into his jacket’s pocket arieving a crumpled up piece of paper. “Here is the receipt. It all came down to 39 gold. And here is the remaining 11 gold. Hic!”

  Balthazar received the paper with his left pincer and the pouch with the right, his mouth slightly ajar, his eyes still in disbelief at everything he’d just witnessed.

  Tristan had to be the most odd drunk the crab had ever met. And he had met a drunk giant before.

  “So,” the disheveled man started, bing his graying blond hair back with a hand, “do you believe I’m a proper business partner now?”

  The crab looked bad forth, left and right, arguments eluding him.

  “Well, you’re still a drunk and a mess! ly a great business look.”

  “Pfah! Nonse adds to the charm. I’m telling you, everybody loves me even more when I’m drunk.”

  “Not everybody,” Balthazar muttered. “But either way, even if you did mao do this errand properly, that still doesn’t prove you’d be able to carry on my move against Antoine properly.”

  Tristan’s goofy expression hardened, and his brow furrowed.

  “You give me the ce, just one ce,” he said, staring into the crab’s eyes, “and I’ll prove to you how much I want to get that son of a—”

  “Alright, alright, I get it!” the crab hurriedly said. “If that’s true, then first I need you to do a little digging.”

  “Ugh, really?” the man pined, his sudden focus apparently already gohat’s going to ruin my nails.”

  “Metaphorical digging, you fool!”

  “ht, right. I suspected as much.”

  “Like I was saying,” Balthazar tinued, “I want you to go to Ardville and start digging into who owns spots at the market other than Antoine. Make a list of them and gather as muformation as you . Once you’ve gathered enough details, we discuss our move.”

  “Hmm, alright, I do that,” Tristan said, scratg his unshaven thoughtfully. “I think I still know someone who works at the registry office. And this will lead to striking Antoine in some way?”

  “Sure. Sort of. In a way, eventually,” the crab said. “For now, focus on the job I’m giving you and leave the details to me. And before you leave, help me carry those supplies to John.”

  Tristan picked up the box of items once again and followed the crusta.

  “He was just about to start fixing the… fence…”

  Balthazar’s words trailed off as they approached the er where John was w.

  To the crab’s great surprise, the fence was already pletely repaired, repced with newer and stronger parts, and the floor was good as new, practically impossible to tell it had been ever damaged by a crashing tree trunk.

  “How… how did you do all this while I was talking to Tristan?” the befuddled mert asked.

  “This? Not that hard to fix, really,” the handyman said, while wiping his hands and hairy arms with a rag, pipe still firmly stuck to the er of his mouth. “Do something for enough years and you get the hang of how to do it right and fast.”

  While not displeased with the results and the speed, Balthazar was still in disbelief at how quickly the old man had fixed the er. Perhaps the drunk did bring him the best carpenter he would ever meet.

  “Hey, by the way,” Tristan called from behind the crab, “I got all these supplies. Don’t I deserve a little sip of Babaurhum?”

  “Oh, yes, of course you do,” said the golden crab, “which is why you had it right before leaving. You know, tthen you for the the road.”

  “I did?” the puzzled man said, lookiily at the floor. “Well, damn, I didn’t even remember.”

  How easy it was to trick a drunk. Balthazar almost pitied Tristan, so easy to distrad misdirect. The crab was just thankful he was not as easily fooled. Nothing would ever go unnoticed and fotten by him like that.

  Not a thing.

  H0st