Cyril worked slowly with his feet and hands, staying afloat. Drops of water on the clay walls began to gather together, forming a solid layer. Then this layer was separated and acquired a shape resembling an octopus. The water octopus clung to the walls with its tentacles, hovering over Cyril like a transparent body. Bubbles ran through it.
[I'm here, master.]
"I just remembered that wells were usually lined with stone." Cyril said, out of the blue. "How could water rise like this if the soil was loose?"
[I spoke to the local earth elemental while the master was digging this well.] Gurgle said. [We agreed that he would strengthen the walls and keep the water out. But master owes him a favor.]
'Great.' Cyril thought.
"Help me out. I'm cold."
One of the tentacles detached itself from the wall, arched, and froze. Cyril gripped the ice hook with his free hand.
[Hold on, master.]
The elemental began to rise, its water tentacles flapping along the wall. Cyril held on to the hook until he could grab the edge of the well. He had to put the gemstone back in his mouth to do it, but that was the least of his worries.
Although there were no streetlights on the spot, the evening light was enough to see the waste ground.
"I think I fucked up my suit." Cyril muttered, taking the blue gem out of his mouth.
All around the well was covered with the soil that Cyril had thrown up while burying himself in the ground. The well itself was in the center of a small hill. The hill gradually descended as it moved away from the center. Of course, Cyril didn't expect to find his clothes under the earth.
"Gurgle, I have one last request for you today." Cyril said as soon as he was out of the hole.
[Yes, master.]
"Clean up the tavern. Where the tables, the bar, and the kitchen are. Let everything shine."
Shivering, Cyril began to move toward the back entrance of the tavern.
[All right, master.] Gurgle said and disappeared.
When Cyril opened the inconspicuous door and entered the tavern under the stairs to the second floor, the dirt from the vomited floor, beer-stained counter and greasy kitchen walls was actively evaporating into gray clouds under the ceiling.
Cyril went out into the main hall. Dyck was already standing behind the bar, watching the tavern get rid of the dirt. Freya with a tray in her hands ran right into Cyril and could not utter a word. The first couple of customers couldn't decide whether to look at the magic of evaporation or the naked man who came out from under the stairs. Cyril nodded in satisfaction.
"What?" He looked at Freya, then at Dyck, and then back at Freya. "You've never been in a bathhoouse before? Things like this happen there every day."
Dyck was silent, only frowned at his voice.
Freya came close to Cyril, placed the tray on the nearest table, and kissed him passionately on the lips. Cyril did not resist, but put his arm around the woman's waist and held her close. His a minute ago shrivelling penis soaked with blood and pressed against Freya's lower belly.
Half a minute later, Cyril pulled away from her kiss and looked into Freya's eyes. He didn't know what was going on with her, but passionate sex would have been perfect right now.
"Is Clara back yet?" He asked.
Freya frowned for a moment.
"No, but why?" She asked.
"She promised to be back before dark." Cyril said thoughtfully, looking at the tavern entrance.
Then he looked back at Freya and smiled.
"Let's go upstairs." He said. "I'm cold, it would be nice to get some warmth."
"I have to work." She tried to refuse, showing a flirtatious smile, but Cyril held her tightly by the waist.
"Oh, fuck it! I'm sick of your displeased look, Freya! Dyck, Freya won't work tonight."
Dyck raised an eyebrow and started to object, but Cyril tossed him the gem, still holding Freya. The bartender grabbed the gemstone and held it in his hand, looking at Cyril in disbelief.
This guy came as a nobody two days ago, took a room, promised to help, actually became a partner in the management of the house, but still did not do anything that would indicate his qualification. However, Dyck saw how clean the toilet became, not cleaned for years. And that was all in one night. He had already guessed how this could be achieved, but he was waiting for proof of his guess. Now he knew exactly what the vapors and the gray cloud on the ceiling meant.
A water elemental worked in the tavern. But how could Cyril control an ancient being? And, most importantly, why does he so brazenly break into a pub naked!?
"I have no idea what kind of stone it is." Cyril said, smiling smugly. "But I hope it's expensive. We gotta go with Freya. Till tomorrow."
Dyck could only watch as Cyril grabbed Freya's ass and squeezed it hard. She screamed, but there was excitement in her eyes. Dyck was glad that his sister was happy again. He hadn't seen her smile for years. Cyril pulled away from her and started up the stairs, dragging Freya with him. Grabbing his arm, she turned.
"Brother." She turned to Dyck. "Everything will be all right now, do you hear? We will restore the names of our families."
She burst out laughing and hurried up the stairs, ignoring the bartender and a couple of drunks at the tables. When Freya reached the second floor, she heard the bartender's words.
"Come back tomorrow, we are closed for today. You don't have to pay for the beer."
Cyril opened the door to his room, and the smell of dried herbs filled his nostrils. The bedspread on the floor was still untouched from breakfast.
At the sight of the bedspread, the leech clutched at his heart again, but he banished the dreary thought.
'Sooner or later she'll come back.' He thought, remembering Clara's smile. 'Nothing happened to her.'
He grabbed Freya with both hands, got to the bed, rolled an empty mug on the floor on his way, and threw the woman on the bed. Freya screamed and opened her arms. Cyril growled deeply as his eyes flashed fire.