Isekai Hero Bartender

Shivai joined me on my trip to the docks. At first, she appeared excited to be out among townsfolk. Soon, it turned to anxiety as she deftly weaved her way through the busy area. Gulls shrieked overhead, searching for an opportunistic breakfast, but mostly painting the road in their traditional black and white. The demonkin narrowly avoided their missiles, too.

The whole time, she glanced around anxiously, visibly alert. Every time she passed someone, she held her breath.

“Don’t like crowds?”

“What? Oh. Usually I love ‘em.”

“Why not now?”

“Lady Talia might’ve outed me as a thief. Have you seen how folks are looking at me?”

I hadn’t.

“Most of these people are from out of town,” I observed. “They probably don’t know you like that. Yet.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not gonna give them the chance.”

She jammed her hands into her pockets and flipped up a thin cloth hood.

Usually, the wharf was mostly quiet by this time of day. Not today, though. It was already abuzz with activity. A local fisherman rushed by, carrying some of the day's haul in a wheelbarrow. He barely spared me a glance, steering toward the vendors as quickly as he could. Behind him, vessels of all kinds crammed their way into our tiny bay.

Crowds clamored in front of the usual mongers, shouting to get the attention of the sellers. From the snippets I understood, it sounded like all the fishers were calling out increasingly lower bids for their catch to undercut other sellers. It reminded me of a Wall Street bloodbath with paper tickets flying everywhere.

There must’ve been a glut of product from all the other fishing vessels taking shelter in Seaport. Competition was fierce. I lowered my head and continued to the docks, hoping to greet some latecomers. Having missed out on their chance to sell at a good price, they'd be the most likely to cut a deal.

A strange, low-to-the-ground ship was just mooring. A group of sailors tied onto the dock, looping thick rope around weathered steel cleats. Oddities of all sorts bedazzled the netting that covered the vessel. Sparkling aqua jugs, giant abalone shells that looked like they could hold a puppy, and strange figurines all stood out as they caught the sweltering rays of afternoon sunlight.

As I neared, something unusual about the sailors stuck out to me. Their skin glistened a dull turquoise, looking textured and scaly in the hot sun. Rich, blue-green highlights shined in hair that fell long and thick with loose curls.

One man stepped up, putting his bare foot on the prow while he checked something. His arch was nonexistent from what I could see. If he ever wore shoes, he probably had to order a custom size. It was wide, flat, and long, almost like a flipper.

A couple other scaly blue sailors held a giant net of fish between them. A young woman hefted two overflowing buckets of assorted shellfish across the wide, flat deck. Her strong, lean muscles flexed visibly, making prime Jillian Michaels look like a first-timer at the gym. Two oversized scallop shells covered her midsize, athletic breasts.

"It's like if Ariel became a ‘var chick," I murmured to myself. 

“Var?”

I blinked, almost forgetting that Shivai was right there. How could I explain that one?

I wouldn’t, really.

“Anavar.”

“Is that what mermaids from your world are called? And who’s Ariel? Just a friend?”

“No, she’s a mermaid too. A little one,” I added.

This woman looked like she could compete in the bikini category of a bodybuilding show. Or like she claimed she didn’t train for powerlifting, but could also tell you exactly how many DOTS she had.

I raised my hand in greeting, giving a quick wave.

The guy on the prow returned it.

"Looking to unload your product?" I asked.

"Yep! Got a great fresh catch here. I know folks this far south don't usually like oysters or clams, but that’s what we got.”

I wanted to be welcoming. I also wanted to do right by the Breakwater Inn.

At the moment, the two goals felt fundamentally at odds. I was here on a mission, and that mission was equal parts hospitality and cutthroat business practices.

"Good luck selling to the mongers. They're already turning people away at the wharf." A chorus of groans and curses—some of them unrecognizable and foreign—met my announcement. "If you all want to cut a deal, though, I'd be willing to bargain."

“By bargain do you mean lowball unscrupulously?”

I shrugged.

"Great," growled the strong woman with two buckets of shellfish. She flicked her head to one side, revealing a surprisingly modern undercut. "We get off the high seas only to find pirates in port."

Uneasy looks came from all around us.

My hands rose in defense. "Whoa there. I don't like pirates any more than you do. If you'd rather head over to the market to try your luck there, I won't bother you."

Shivai tugged on my arm. Barely audible above the bustle, she whispered in my ear, “Want me to turn on the ol’ charm?”

“No. We’re going to play it straight. Gonna hit ‘em with an old bartender’s trick.”

“Out here? What’s that?”

“When someone asks for Padron, but all you have is Jose Quiero, even though they’ll complain, they’ll still order a margarita.”

“... What!?”

I shrugged. It made sense in my head. Then, I looped my arm around Shivai’s back and about-faced us towards another mooring ship.

From behind me, one of the men called after me, urging me not to be so hasty. I smirked, mentally fist-pumping before schooling my expression back to neutral and turning back to their group.

"I can't offer much coin. We're a new business, and we're still scraping by," I said. "But we have a small restaurant, and more than enough rooms to accommodate your entire crew."

That caught their interest. Their group chatted together, murmuring low and heated for a minute before coming to some kind of agreement. Finally, one of them spoke up. "All right, we'll discuss terms."

Not much later, I'd secured most of their haul for a pittance. The profits from a single night would pay for almost all of it. In return, they would receive several free rooms, meals on the house, and a couple of complimentary drinks each night that they stayed.

Sure, I could’ve offered just one drink, but two was strategic. It sounded generous, and it was also the magic number that reduced inhibitions. They’d drink two, then keep going. We’d make a mint off these sailors.

I almost felt bad, except that we probably gave them a better deal than anyone else would’ve. 

Shivai led them up the hill, letting them carry the bulk of their goods with them. I begged off the first round. There were other latecoming ships still entering port. With any luck, maybe I could send them up to the Breakwater Inn, too.

Also, although my strength and cardio were certainly improving, I was still sore from my training with Lady Talia.

And from my late nights with Wynnie.

The fewer trips I needed to take up the hill, the better.

I repeated the process, finding more merchants arriving on the tail end of the rush. I secured a small store of tropical fruits, melons, and citruses I couldn’t recognize. To my great relief, I also scored a small fortune in wine, plus a wheel of cheese. For a small sum of coin plus meals and lodging, our pantry would be well stocked.

Eventually, I moseyed back to the low, flat fishing vessel. The small crew of muscular turquoise merfolk had just returned from the Breakwater and were loading the last of their supplies onto deck. A familiar figure caught my eye with a quick wave.

“Hey, landlubber! Help a princess with her bags?”

The tall, muscle mommy with the undercut heaved a suitcase across the deck, sending it skidding against the railing. The deep, scraping sound made me think it was heavy. From the hold, she hoisted two more duffels. Deltoid striations flickered beneath her radiant skin.

“Princess?”

“It means more to surface folk than it does in the deeps. But if you buy into the nobility thing, maybe you could haul that suitcase for me?”

“Will I be able to lift it?”

“I’d hope so. It’s just a handful of dresses and unmentionables.” She smirked, clearly tickled by mentioning them. “If you schlep that for me, I’ll make it worth your while.”

“How’s that?”

“Rumors from abroad. Bawdy sailors’ tales. Hot goss. Nothing weird or substantiated, I promise—we merfolk have shifty reputations to uphold.”

I chuckled. So far, despite living in a fantasy port town, I’d seen precisely zero merfolk, nor had I heard of them until now. They must be uncommon around these parts. Far shores, no doubt.

Or, what had she just said? The deeps?

The prospect of hearing gossip from far beyond the little bubble I lived in actually sounded compelling. Maybe I could learn more about how magic worked in larger cities or find out what the different kingdoms were really like. It seemed almost nobody in Seaport had ventured outside the confines of the one we were in.

I accepted her suitcase as she handed it down. It was mercifully lighter than expected, though by no means was it featherweight. Then, I dodged as the woman tossed her duffels unceremoniously onto the ground by my feet. They landed with an alarming thud.

She reached out a callused hand to me. I grabbed it, helping her balance as she hopped down onto the dock beside me. Her firm grip clasped mine harder when she had her footing.

“Freya.”

“Princess Freya?”

“Technically.”

“Drew.”

“Is that short for Drewlian?”

I’d been through this before. “Sure.”

“Thanks for the lift. I usually hop down on my own, but I wanted to see if you were a gentleman.”

“And?”

“Jury’s still out after the hard bargain you drove, but helping a lady out of a boat is a good sign.” She shook the hair out of her eyes with a casual flick of her head. Barefoot, she stood at roughly my height. Maybe an inch taller. “Now, a deal’s a deal. Tales from the sea?”

There were a dozen questions I could have asked then. Most of them were about merfolk, actually, though I wanted to know a bit about fishing and travel, too.

Yet the one that came out was the most important by far.

"Did you see any of the black-ship raiders while you were out, by any chance?"

Abruptly, her face went dark, and she scowled, lip curling. "I thought I saw a ship in the distance a few days ago. It just sat on the horizon, not coming any closer. The crew and I made the call to come straight here. No sense staying out another day to try for Northridge.”

"Hmm," I said.

She nodded gravely. "Hmm, indeed. Makes me uneasy knowing they're nearby. They’re probably still a few days out. With any luck, they’ll go after stragglers or find port in a larger city.”

Something told me they wouldn’t. The very detailed threat from the other pirates still echoed in my memory. Seaport was on their shit list, and it was my fault. Sooner or later, they were coming to get their due.

As I helped Freya up the hill, carrying a suitcase of town clothes and salty underwear, my thoughts roamed to what mattered most to me. Somehow, I needed to step up to protect Wynnie again. Wynnie, Shivai, and the Breakwater.

And Seaport. And Lady Talia, too.

We had only a few days. Maybe a couple more. I needed to make them count.

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