by Charley Case
Collecting Favors
a short story from The Adventures of Finnegan Dragonbender series in the Terranavis Universe
Charley Case
LMBPN, Inc.
Copyright © 2019 by Charley Case, Martha Carr and Michael Anderle.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The Terranavis Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2019 by Martha Carr and LMBPN Publishing.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Collecting Favors
Collecting Favors
A Short Story from The Adventures of Finnegan Dragonbender series
Finnegan Dragonbender held the mug of piping hot coffee up to his nose and inhaled the rich aroma. A smile split his neatly trimmed, brown beard as he sighed and soaked in the afternoon sun.
“Man, I love this balcony. Perfect light during the day, and a beautiful view of the mountains.”
“That’s why I pay so much for rent. And that’s after I split it with a roommate,” Mila said, putting her bare feet on the railing and leaning back.
Finn took a second to appreciate her toned, light brown legs, offset by her white shorts, but was most fascinated by the cherry red nail polish on her toes.
“You really like coffee, don’t you?” Mila sipped her own mug of the black brew, noticing him noticing her. She flexed her toes back and forth when he didn’t immediately look away. “I mean, you really like it.”
Finn looked the striking woman in the eye, his smile broadening. “Only because it goes so well with these.” He pulled a yellow box of Charleston Chew minis out of his shirt pocket and shook it.
Mila rolled her eyes. “I never should have shown you those things. If you keep at them like you are, you’re going to turn that six-pack into a one-pack.”
Finn smacked his flat belly a couple of times. “One is less than six. Wouldn’t that be better?”
“Not if the one-pack is family-sized.” She chuckled, then pulled her long, black hair up in a one-handed bun and fanned her neck. “Man, it’s hot. Are we sure it’s September? Feels more like July.”
Finn popped a few of the mini, chocolate-covered nougat pieces into his mouth before taking a sip of the steaming coffee. He let the hot liquid melt the candies, blending a symphony of taste in his mouth.
“It feels pretty good to me,” he said after swallowing.
“For someone so large, you handle the heat pretty well.” Mila pinched the front of her tank top and fanned it, trying to cool down. “What gives? I mean my people come from Mexico, and I still can’t handle anything over ninety without at least a little sweat. You’re sitting over there cool as a cucumber, and that’s with jeans and a flannel on.”
“We dwarves regulate our temperature well.” He closed his eyes, soaking in the sun before dropping another couple chews in his mouth. “We spend a lot of time underground, where the temperature can swing from hot to cold every few feet if you’re close to a magma vein.”
Mila laughed. “I will never get used to that. You being a dwarf, that is.”
Finn cocked an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”
She looked him up and down, taking in his form as he reclined in the patio chair, one leg up, black boot planted on the railing. “Because dwarves are supposed to be short and stocky, and have beards that go to the floor, and say things like ‘and my axe,’ not stand six-five and have the body of a swimmer.”
“I have a beard,” Finn said defensively, stroking the immaculately groomed brown hair.
“You have a hipster beard.” She waved a hand dismissively.
Finn frowned. “What’s a hipster?”
Mila thought for a second before answering. “It’s someone who takes exceptional care in their grooming to look extra manly, while also eating farm to market foods, and doing things before anyone else.”
Finn raised an eyebrow. “And that’s not good?”
“It’s not exactly well received by everyone.”
“Let me get this straight.” He took a sip of coffee and tossed another chew in his mouth while formulating his thoughts. “You’re saying that because a man takes care of his beard and his looks, likes to know where his food comes from, and is adventurous, he is looked down on?”
Mila frowned, took a sip of her own coffee, and made a face of slight disgust. “Dammit, Finn. Why do you have to make so much god damned sense? Now I have to rethink my whole approach to hipsters.”
Finn smiled. It wasn’t often he got one up on Mila. “I thought you studied people and their cultures. Isn’t that what an anthropologist does?”
“I study ancient cultures, not modern ones. Though I concede this point to you, dwarf. What can I say? I’m a victim of pop culture.”
“As long as you can see the fault in your ways, and change them for the better, that’s all that matters. I wouldn’t want to be associated with a bigot.” He hid his big, cheesy smile behind the lip of his mug.
Mila snapped her head toward him, her mouth agape. She shoved his knee hard with one of her feet. “I am not a bigot! Take that back!”
Finn laughed. “I take it back. There is no way someone as smart as you could ever be a bigot.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not so sure about that. There are plenty of smart assholes in the world.”
The door behind them creaked open half a foot, and Penny shot through the gap. The faerie dragon hopped into the air and spread her vibrant blue wings, flapping once then folding them again as she landed on Finn’s shoulder.
“Squee? Chipip, shri.” The little dragon inclined her chin toward the box of Charleston Chews.
Finn obliged and tossed her one. She snatched it from the air, and slowly chewed the gooey candy, her eyes closing in ecstasy.
“Hello, Penny.” Mila held up her mug in greeting.
Penny smiled as well as a dragon could, waved a hand, and puffed a ring of smoke from one of her nostrils, making Mila laugh.
“Penny just reminded me we have an appointment once the market opens.” Finn dropped his booted foot from the rail and downed the rest of his still steaming cup in one go.
Mila physically flinched, a hand going to her throat. “How does that not burn the shit out of you?”
“It does. But in a good way.” Finn laughed. “You have any plans for the rest of the day?”
Mila bit her lip, and looked up toward the sky in thought. “Nothing major. Me and Danica were going to hit up the Refinery for drinks and karaoke. Maybe grab some food at some point. It’s Sunday, we’re playing it by ear.”
Finn closed the yellow box of candies and slipped it back into his front shirt pocket, the top of it sticking out like a handkerchief. “Well, I think I’ll join you while I wait for the market to open. If you don’t mind, that is.”
Mila smiled as she stood. She only came to his chest, but her cocksure manner made her seem larger than she was. “We would love to have you, big guy. Just remember, Penny is still not exactly something that we should be flashing about. I mean, she is clearly a dragon, and those don’t exist. Remember what happened last time you took her to the bar.”
Penny glanced up to Mila when she heard her name. She had opened the top of the Charleston Chew box from her perch on his shoulder, and fished out another. “Shi?” She tossed the mini candy into her mouth.
“Actually, I think I have a solution for that.” Finn smirked. The discovery of the existence of the internet had been a bit of a problem when he found out that people could just look things u
p on the spot. Not that he was a liar by any means, but he was known to stretch the truth if it got the job done. “Draco Volans.”
“What?”
“Draco Volans.” Finn smiled, opening the balcony door and letting Mila into the apartment ahead of him. “It’s the name of a flying lizard. I’ll just tell people that’s Penny’s species when they ask. That way, they have a name for what she is, and if they look it up, the description will sort of make sense. People believe what they want to, so long as they have something to base that belief on.”
Mila placed the mugs in the sink then put a hand on her hip and cocked her head. “You know, that might actually work. But you still can’t bring an animal into a bar.”
“I have an answer for that as well.” Finn reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, red vest. He held it up, and Mila saw that it had “Service Animal” written on it.
She barked a laugh. “Here in Denver, that part of the plan will definitely work. Let me change and we can take off.”
“What about Danica?”
“She ran to the store for something,” Mila called as she walked down the hall toward her room. “I’ll text her and let her know to meet us there.”
Finn stepped up to Refinery’s heavy wooden door and pulled it open for Mila.
She gave him an over the top bow, and affected a Victorian accent. “Thank you, good sir.”
Finn smiled. He was still getting used to her silly affectations, but he had to admit they were charming.
Refinery was just around the corner from Mila and Danica’s warehouse loft, and they made the block and a half trek more than a few times a week. The walk was short enough that Mila felt comfortable wearing what she called her “cute shoes,” and this afternoon was no exception.
When Finn had first seen high heels, he was confused as to why anyone would ever wear shoes that made them walk on a small spike, but when he saw the effect the shoes had on Mila’s short, muscular legs, he understood immediately.
“You trying to catch flies?” Mila laughed, pushing Finn’s chin up with a single finger till his mouth closed with a click.
Penny snickered from where she hung on his back, her talons holding onto the brown leather harness Finn wore. It went around his chest and shoulders and connected to the waist of his jeans at the sides. The harness held the handle of his axe, Fragar, and a few other trinkets in molded leather pockets along the straps, but out and about it just looked like a complicated pair of suspenders.
“You make me forget myself with your bewitching footwear.” He shrugged in apology.
They entered the bar, her heels clicking on the worn, wooden floor, and their eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the dim light.
“Bewitching footwear?” She laughed, glancing down at her black leather stiletto ankle boots. “I suppose they are a bit bewitching. Not magical, mind you, but they do have a magic all their own. It wouldn’t hurt you to dress up every once in a while. This is a classy place.”
Refinery was an interesting mix of speakeasy and neighborhood bar. But in the LoDo district, “neighborhood” meant a higher class of people—at least in the fact that they had money. Finn had seen his fair share of well-dressed people wobbling down the street after a night of drinking.
“Class is relative. Get enough shots into anyone, and they puke in the street,” Finn countered. “Besides, I’m wearing my nice jeans.”
Mila gave him a once-over. “You always wear jeans and a black tee shirt. How is that pair nicer than any of the others you own?”
“They don’t have blood on them.”
She pursed her lips, trying to decide if he was being serious. She decided he was, and shook her head. “I’ll grab a table. I want to be up front when karaoke starts. You get the drinks.”
She sauntered off in the direction of the small stage, and a few tall tables each set with a candle and a menu.
Finn watched her go, paying particular attention to where her shorts met tanned skin. Peabrain asses were so much better than dwarf butts.
He turned to the bar and gave a wave to Danny, the bartender. Danny nodded, letting Finn know he would be there as soon as he was finished with his current order. Finn leaned on the bar and turned back to the sight of Mila hopping up onto a tall stool and settling in.
Mila was quite the conundrum to him. She was the only person he had ever met who made him want to be a better dwarf. Her enthusiasm for life and exceptional competence at her work made her far more attractive than anyone he had ever met in his father’s court. He was used to women trying to gain favor with him, as the king’s son, and he found them vapid at best. But Mila was so much more than the surface. She was deep in unexpected ways.
“Oi, Finn.” Danny’s Scottish accent always made Finn think of home. “What can I get you?”
“A whiskey for me, and a gin and tonic for Mila.” He turned back to Danny and watched him grab two rocks glasses to get started on the drinks. “How’s business?”
“Good nuff. Had a bachelorette party come through earlier, so I’ve made me tips, even if the night goes to shite.”
Penny crawled up onto Finn’s shoulder and eyed the bowl of peanuts on the bar.
“What did I say about the lizard, Finn?” Danny frowned, setting the drinks on the bar.
“It’s okay, Danny. I got her a vest.” He picked Penny up and showed off the “Service Animal” printed on the red garment.
Danny’s frown didn’t budge, but he gave a sharp nod. “As long as the feckin inspectors don’t give me shite, that’ll do. Mind you, I don’t want to find no lizard crap on the floor when I’m sweepin’ tonight.”
“No worries there, my friend.” Finn picked up the drinks and turned for the table.
Penny grabbed hold of his ear and pointed to the bar snacks.
“Right. Sorry.” He moved the two drinks to one hand and snatched up the bowl of peanuts. He gave Danny a salute with the bowl and then headed for Mila.
Danica leaned her head back, the mic bottom pointed at the ceiling, as she belted out the lyrics to My Chemical Romance’s “Helena”. The small crowd cheered and sang along with the goth anthem. Danica’s long, blonde hair swayed back and forth, as she got into the song and started pointing at other patrons, singing with more heart than Finn had ever seen outside of a full-on battle charge.
Mila leaned in, wearing a smile so big it looked like it hurt. “She fucking loves these guys. Nails it every time.”
Penny’s head popped up from the half empty peanut bowl to nod along with the tune while she chewed her latest mouthful. It was her third bowl, and she showed no signs of slowing down.
“Will you two ladies be okay for an hour or so? I need to run to the market to pick something up.” Finn spoke loud enough to be heard, but not so loud that he’d interrupt Danica’s soulful rendition.
Mila nodded, taking another sip of G&T, and pumping a fist toward Danica as she hit a high note. “We’re here for the night. What are you picking up?”
Finn gave her a roguish grin. “Something for you, actually.”
She turned to face him, her eyebrows at her hairline. “For me? Why?”
Finn shrugged. “You helped me when I got here, and I would like to make it known that I won’t take your hospitality for granted. I was a stranger in your lands, and you welcomed me.”
Mila blushed but nodded. “I get it. I would do the same thing. But don’t go too crazy, you’ve been helping me as well. And it’s not like I need anything.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll be glad to have this.” Finn stood and held out a hand for Penny.
She frowned, but quickly climbed up his arm and perched on his shoulder.
“We’ll get you some more peanuts when we get back. Don’t give me that look.”
“She knows what she likes,” Mila said, winking at the small dragon.
Penny gave her a toothy smile, and shot a ring of smoke from her nostril.
“Hey, this is a non-smoking establishment,” Mi
la jokingly scolded her.
Penny turned her nose up in mock indignation.
The market was located a few blocks down from the Refinery, but there was no sign for it. At least, not one a non-magical could see. For Finn, the glowing runes were obvious, looming over a section of brick wall tucked into an alley between a trendy yarn store called the Twisted Ewe, and a local bodega that specialized in cigarettes and six-packs. The runes glowed a reddish hue to Finn’s eyes, but that had more to do with his dwarvish heritage than the runes having an actual color.
Finn stepped up to the brick wall and gave it a few thumps with his fist. A slit in the wall opened at eye-level, as if from nowhere. A pair of yellow, feline eyes, much too big for a cat, regarded him.
“Password,” the owner of the eyes growled.
“Peabrains are forgetful,” Finn replied, with the barest of eyerolls.
The slit slammed shut, and after a second, a section of the wall started sprouting bubbles that clung to the bricks in the shape of an arched doorway.
Once the last bubble filled in the outline, the wall underneath faded away to reveal a set of stairs leading down. Old-fashioned sconces lit the way, revealing well-worn stone steps. There was no sign of the feline-eyed greeter anywhere.
“Shall we, Penny?”
“Skree.” She shot a quick jet of flame to punctuate her desire to get back to a warm bowl of peanuts.
Heading down the steps was like entering another world. The stone underfoot slowly changed to cut rock, and the lights along the way went from electric to gas to magical the further down Finn went.
His dwarvish senses let him know they had gone exactly one hundred feet below street level, when the stairs opened up to what looked like an old section of sewer, though clean and neat in its bustling chaos. The ceiling soared thirty feet up, lit with hundreds of magical lanterns. The walls, whitewashed and gleaming, were lined with stalls of all descriptions. Running through the center of the market were food carts selling everything from gyros to more magical fare that defied description, but still made Penny’s mouth water.
