by Robert Bevan
She smiled to herself. She’d fallen for one of nature’s oldest tricks, even after having grown up on the Gulf Coast. That was no log. That was a gator. And a pretty fucking big one, by the looks of it.
No, that wasn’t quite right. This was clearly a crocodile. From her vantage point above it, she could see the disturbance on the water’s surface was made by a V-shaped snout as it passed beneath her. Besides, alligators are not indigenous to –
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Katherine rammed her palm repeatedly into the side of her head. Priorities having been set straight, she resumed climbing the tree. She had just about reached the fenberries when another thought about the crocodile popped into her head. It was moving, slowly but with purpose.
“Butterbean!”
Even if she let herself fall, she wouldn’t be able to trudge or swim through that water fast enough to reach the crocodile in time. And without her vampire powers, running into a straight fight with a beast that big was suicide. Somehow, she had to find a way to outsmart that prehistoric piece of shit.
A light bulb shone above her head. Not so much a light bulb, but a yellow aggregate fruit reflecting light from her magically lit torch. She had an idea.
The vine could carry her Tarzan-style to cut off the croc. When it opened its big mouth to attack, she could throw in the fenberries. Brilliant.
Katherine plucked the cluster from the vine, wrapped the vine around her right forearm, and let go of the trunk. She sailed straight over the crocodile, hardly believing how flawlessly her plan was working. That is, until it came time to land. Her path was leading her in a trajectory that would send her crashing straight into her horse. Let go too soon, and she’d fall in the water between the animals and the giant crocodile. Let go too late, and –
“Shit!”
The horse wasn’t as soft as she’d hoped it might be. She hit it with both knees, flipped over its ass, and splashed down into the swamp on the other side of the path. When she picked her head out of the slimy water, she found the smell less naturally refreshing, and more... just slimy and gross. The horse was staring down at her accusingly.
“Well you could have fucking moved, couldn’t you?”
An explosion of water sprayed out from the other side of the horse just before a massive set of reptilian jaws grabbed it by the saddle and belly. The horse screamed as it fell to its knees and started sliding off the path.
“Hey! No!” shouted Katherine. “I need that!” She scampered up onto the path, but didn’t fancy her chances of winning a tug-of-war game against this thing. Its head was nearly as long as she was tall.
“Fuck.” She looked down at her left hand, still holding the cluster of fenberries. That was her only chance.
The crocodile’s mouth was locked tight around the horse’s midsection, leaving it both occupied and open enough to shove her arm in with relative confidence in being able to keep it.
She pushed the fruit back as far as she could into the crocodile’s mouth, hoping that her horse wasn’t about to split in two.
A slimy lump pushed against her hand, freaking her out. She dropped the fenberries and pulled her hand back. It was the crocodile’s tongue. It was rejecting the fenberries.
“Uh uh,” said Katherine. She took the torch off her back and pushed the cluster of fruit back in just as they were about to drop out of the side of its mouth.
The tongue didn’t flap around. It was more of a lump moving around under a membrane than an appendage. She was able to keep the fenberries in the croc’s mouth, but the tongue-lump kept them from being swallowed.
After a little back-and-forth, the crocodile disengaged with the horse, prioritizing ridding its mouth of this fruit that its kind must have evolved to recognize as being extremely dangerous.
The horse fell flat as the crocodile’s jaws snapped shut, and Katherine did the only thing she could think to do. She jumped onto the crocodile’s head and wrapped her arms around its lower jaw.
Like with any animal, the muscles that close a mouth are much more developed than the ones that open it. Still, this was a huge fucking animal, and those opening jaw muscles were pretty powerful as well. Katherine was barely able to keep hold of her wrist with her elbow locked around the mouth.
Butterbean, who had been barking, snarling, growling, and otherwise following Katherine’s non-suicidal lead up to that point, jumped into the water and attacked.
“You swallow that fruit, you scaly son of a bitch!” Katherine kicked her heels into the croc’s eyes. That may have proved to be a mistake. Or the head-thrashing that followed may have been inevitable. She held on as the giant beast tried to shake her off, slamming her left and right into the muddy water. “There... are starving... children... in India... who would love – FUCK!”
The crocodile reared high, then came down in a barrel roll, pinning Katherine under the water and into the squishy mud below. Motherfucker was trying to drown her. She didn’t kick or try to push herself up. This was now a waiting game, and any effort she exerted beyond keeping the croc’s mouth closed would only take vital seconds off her clock.
The crocodile seemed to be following a similar strategy, as it was no longer thrashing wildly about. It was alive and forceful, but its movements seemed to be limited to and concentrated on keeping her down. The occasional jerks and wiggles she felt were probably the crocodile’s attempts to swat its little legs at the pestering wolf that was trying to bite through its hide.
Bless his heart, but Katherine knew that Butterbean wasn’t going to be able to save her. And though the crocodile’s nostrils were submerged down there with her, she knew she would drown long before it did. Her only hope was that –
And just like that, the big bastard stopped moving. Katherine tentatively loosened her grip, ready to pull tight again in case this was a ruse. But crocodiles weren’t that smart, and she didn’t have much more time. She let go completely, and the giant head pinning her into the mud remained immobile. She pushed it off her and sat up. Her head was still underwater. It must have really pushed her down deep. She stood up, surfaced, and took a deep breath of kinda-fresh air.
Butterbean stood proudly atop the crocodile’s lifeless belly, his muzzle red with blood. He’d managed to do more damage than Katherine thought he could have. She didn’t know what kind of reproductive organs crocodiles were supposed to have between their legs, and she wouldn’t be getting that education today. Being softer and more vulnerable than the rest of the animal’s tough hide, the junk was where Butterbean had focused his attack. The entire area between the hind legs and tail was a mess of blood, shredded flesh, and claw marks.
Katherine hugged Butterbean as they both took a couple more moments to breathe. “Good boy.”
The wolf tensed as the giant croc shuddered between Katherine’s legs. Had that fucker been faking dead after all?
“Shit! Butterbean, run!” Katherine and Butterbean scrambled up the side of the raised path. Wet, slippery, and panicked, they weren’t being very quick about it. Katherine clawed at the dirt, fearing she was seconds away from being bitten in half.
When they finally made it up, Katherine looked back. The crocodile was still upside down, its head still submerged, and neither its tail nor its legs were moving. There was, however, a distinct tremor running up and down its belly.
Then, with a sound like vomiting into a toilet, a gush of reddish brown liquid exploded from the opening that Butterbean had either created or widened. What scum had survived the creature’s thrashing on the water’s surface fanned out in a circular pattern, leaving a ring of black water, and an inner circle of shit and blood radiating from the croc’s asshole.
Katherine looked down at her horse. Its guts were spilled out over the side of the path and into the water. Transportation was going to be a problem.
Butterbean shook his body vigorously, spraying swamp water in every direction. If only she could dry herself off like that. She was wet and cold, and so fucking tired.
She picked up her cloak, sat on the path, wrapped it around herself and Butterbean. Her clothes were still wet, and they both smelled like swamp ass, but the cloak managed to hold in some of their combined body heat.
Time to think. How the hell was she going to get back to town?
She hadn’t slept in two days, and the crocodile fight had just sapped what little energy she had left. Her brain was far too exhausted for problem solving right now. She just couldn’t go on any longer.
But she’d found the fenberries ahead of schedule. Tim still had at least a day left in him. She just needed a little nap, then she’d be able to find a way to get back to him. Maybe magic could help. She could summon a big bird or some shit to carry her. Was that a druid spell? Maybe she could...
Just a quick nap. She’d figure out what she needed to do when her brain was fresh and rested.
*
Katherine woke up to a buzz in her ear and a slap to her face. The slap was from her own hand, and the source of the buzz was splattered all over her palm.
“Blegh. Fucking mosquitoes.” She opened her eyes to find the swamp awash with sunlight. The swamp was far less spooky during the day, a wild medley of vibrant shades of green. Frog croaks had been replaced by birdsong. It was all kind of beautiful.
“Shit! What time is it?”
Judging by her stupid Knowledge Nature skill, it was pretty late in the morning.
She scratched at the left side of her face. It seemed the mosquito on her hand hadn’t been her only visitor during the night.
Still, she’d fared better than her former horse, of which only the head and one hoof remained on the path. What the hell was she thinking going to sleep in a crocodile-infested swamp?
She stood up quickly and checked to make sure all her and Butterbean’s pieces were accounted for. Thankfully, everything was there, but her right hand was red and swollen to about fifty percent larger than her left hand. Some of the fenberry juice must have leaked onto it. Hopefully, that was something she could recover from.
On the bright side, if she could call it that, all the previous night’s action had shaken a few clusters of fenberries from higher up on the vine. There were three clusters of them lying on the path.
She emptied the few remaining coins from the pouch Tanner had given her into her backpack, then carefully scooped one berry cluster into the pouch.
Now that she’d procured what she’d come for, it was time to work on that transportation problem. For that, she’d need to waste even more time praying for her spells, and hoping that one of them would get the job done.
She sat down and crossed her legs, placing her hands palms up atop her knees and closing her eyes.
“Mother Nature, or whatever. Please hear my prayer.”
As she mumbled nonspecific words of generic prayer, her mind cleared, and her choices became known to her. The options available didn’t look good.
The most obvious choice was the Longstrider spell, which would increase the speed with which she could run. But she still wouldn’t be as fast as a horse, and even if she prepared it as many times as she was allowed, the duration of the spell was much too short for it to get her back to Tim in time to save him.
Most of the spells she had available to her were either likewise too limited in duration to be of any use, or completely useless for her current needs to begin with.
Having ruled out the more obviously useful-looking spells one by one, she focused her attention on trying to get creative with some of the shittier ones.
Suddenly the stars aligned, peace came over her being, and she knew what she had to do.
“Thank you, Mother Nature... or whatever.”
Katherine remained sitting, but turned around to face Butterbean. She grinned, giddy with excitement, but just a bit sad as well for their imminent parting. “Come here.”
Butterbean faithfully obeyed, wagging his tail and tongue.
“Now sit.”
Butterbean sat.
“Stay.”
Butterbean stayed.
Katherine licked her lips and rubbed her hands together, feeling the magical energy flow through her. She placed her hands on Butterbean’s head. “Now Speak!”
“Hello, Katherine,” said Butterbean.
Katherine crab-walked backward a foot. “H-h-h-holy fucking shit!” She breathed heavily as her heart pounded against her ribcage. “Why didn’t I ever think to do this earlier?”
“You’ve been busy.” He wasn’t actually speaking like a person. It was a mixture of barks and whines and growls, typical wolf noises. But Katherine could understand them as perfectly as if they’d come from any person she’d ever spoken to.
“I’m going to use this spell a lot more in the future, I promise. But it’s got a short duration, and I need to ask a favor of you.”
“Of course, Katherine. You know I’d do anything for you.”
Katherine rubbed the fur on Butterbean’s neck. “I know you would. Do you think you can remember how to get back to that place where we left my brother?”
“Who?”
“Tim.”
“The halfling?”
Katherine nodded.
“That guy’s your brother? But how –”
“I’ll explain all that when we have more time. Can you find the place?”
“Of course. It’s bound to still smell like shit. But I don’t want to leave you alone out here.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be right behind you. Just a little slower. I need you to take these berries to him.”
“Berries?”
Katherine rolled her eyes. “Fine. Technically, they’re an aggregate fruit.”
“I don’t know what that means. But... Are we trying to kill your brother?”
“Of course not, silly.” Katherine smiled at her friend. “These have medicinal properties as well. We need these to save his life.”
Butterbean sighed. “Okay, good. You had me a little weirded out there for a second.”
“Hmm...” said Katherine. “I don’t know how much more time we have with this spell, but we might as well use it up. Is there anything you’d like to ask me?”
“I notice you turn away sometimes when I lick my balls. Does that make you uncomfortable?”
Katherine shook her head. “Nah. I grew up with a brother. Christ knows if he could do that, he’d never leave the house. It’s just instinctive for me to want to give you some privacy. Anything else?”
“One more thing.”
“What is it?”
“There’s a naked man in a tree behind you.”
“What?”
Butterbean growled. The spell had timed out. Shit.
Katherine stood up and turned around slowly, hoping against any reasonable probability that ‘There's a naked man in a tree behind you’ was some kind of figure of speech among dogs meaning ‘Safe travels and let’s talk again soon.’ The naked old man staring down at her from a nearby tree suggested the meaning was more literal.
He stood about five feet tall and couldn’t have weighed more than seventy-five pounds. He was bald on top, but long scraggly grey hair hung down to his shoulders. A matching tangle of pubes hung down to his knees. His eyes were wild, mismatched, and unnerving as they seemed to move independently of each other.
Without taking her eyes off him, Katherine crouched down and put her arm around Butterbean’s neck. She placed the drawstring of the pouch in his mouth.
“Go now.”
Butterbean growled some more at the man in the tree.
“I’ve got this,” said Katherine. She looked into Butterbean’s eyes, hoping he remembered their brief conversation and could make out something that she was currently saying. “Go save my brother. Save Tim.”
His eyes shifted to meet hers when she said the word Tim, and his growl turned to a whine. He didn’t want to leave her, but he understood.
“Go!”
Butterbean turned around and started running back down the path. A yellow
ish brown blob splattered down where he’d just stood.
“The fuck?” Before she could look away, Katherine noticed little white studs – fenberry seeds? – in the... shit? She looked up and saw that the old man had another handful ready to fling.
“Do you eat fenberries?” she asked.
“Intruder!” screamed the old man, and launched his payload at her.
Katherine dodged the shitball easily enough. It splattered on the ground next to her.
“Why are you flinging shit at me?”
If the man heard her, he made no attempt to answer her question. He merely squatted down to reload his hand.
“Intruder!” he shrieked again. Katherine prepared to dodge, but he launched his load at a target above her, up in another tree branch. This one connected, and a plump little barn owl, covered in shit, fell to the ground with a thud.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s a fucking owl! How’s that an intruder?” Once again, Katherine’s Knowledge Nature skill kicked in to remind her that this species of owl was not native to the swamp. And once again, Katherine did not give a fuck. She bent over to pick up the poor terrified bird. It clawed at her fat right hand as she scooped it up under each of its shit-smeared wings. “Goddammit, bird. I’m trying to help you!”
“Intruder!” cried the old man just before Katherine felt a large splat on the back of her cloak.
“Will you please knock that shit off?” said Katherine. She’d had enough of this swamp, but she had to go back for her bag. The stupid owl was still trying to claw into her hand. She tucked it under her right arm like a football, dodged a couple of shit grenades, scooped up her bag, and shouted, “Longstrider!”
She’d prepared that spell as well in case her chat with Butterbean didn’t work out like she’d hoped. It was a better-than-nothing last ditch effort spell, which would have cut her travel time down by minutes instead of hours, and probably would have been too little too late. But as long as she had it ready, she’d happily use it to flee a shit-flinging crazy old naked man.
She ran down the path with the effort of a casual jogger and the speed of an Olympic sprinter. It felt amazing. Useful or not, she was determined to try out a lot more spells in the future, just to see how cool they felt.
