by Sam Cheever
The warm, soft bodies jiggled some more, the flowery scent almost overwhelming in my squashy cocoon.
I wiggled my hands, which no doubt looked like disembodied limbs sticking from the massive bellies pressed against me.
Sebille flashed to full size and grabbed the phone from my limp, benumbed fingers. She snapped a picture and quickly sent it off. I had no doubt it was going to Grym, a.k.a. The Rat.
The walls shifted slightly, releasing my arms up to the elbows, and I tried to shove away. But the ogres closed ranks again, cocooning me in pillowy claustrophobia.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Keeper!” boomed the neon green mass. I was pretty sure the ground shifted under my feet from the bellowing quality of its voice.
“Charmed!” boomed the bright pink wall in a voice that had a slightly more feminine tone to it.
I tried to discreetly elbow them to gain some breathing room. My elbows sank deep into their squidgy forms. “Do you think you could give me some…space?”
The two massive forms jerked in what I could only assume was surprise. They shifted a couple of inches away, just enough to allow feeling to return to my arms.
“Sorry, Keeper,” said the ogre I assumed was Rick due to the deeper, rumbly tenor of his voice.
“So sorry,” echoed Maxine.
An enormous pink hand found my head and slammed into it, shoving it forward in a painful assault. I gasped. I’d have fallen to my knees from the blow, but I was too wedged. “Umph!” I objected.
“Oh. Oh, Rick, I’ve broken her,” lamented Maxine in supersized tones.
I shook my head, rubbing the back of my neck. “No. No, I’m fine. Just, please, step away.”
The flower-scented live vise finally opened enough for me to breathe. Cooling air wafted over me. That was when I realized how hot it had been, smushed between them. My body was slick with sweat. I lifted my gaze, finally able to see my nearly lethal admirers.
The pink mass I assumed was Maxine, gave me a smile that spread across most of her face and waggled sausage-like fingers at me. Her round eyes flared slightly as I looked at her. “Sorry,” she said again. “I was just trying to pet your hair. Such pretty hair.”
She reached the dinner-plate-sized hand toward my head and I flinched back, holding up a hand. “No. I’m good. Thanks.” My response made no sense. I knew that. But I needed to keep the enormous creature from touching me again. She clearly had no idea of her strength.
Rick, as expected, was the neon green wall. I’d say he looked a lot like Hreck of human movie fame, except he didn’t have the horn-shaped ears and his face was more angular, with high, sharp cheeks and a broad chin. The bright green color of his eyes was a few shades darker than his vivid skin but not as bright as the sprite’s iridescent green gaze.
Rick had a wisp of a white beard that ran from just under his wide lips to below his cleft chin and an abundance of white hair that covered his broad head. The rest of his enormous form appeared to be completely hairless. Believe me, I would know, since all he was wearing was a pair of brown shorts that tied at his waist and covered his bulging thighs to just above wide knees.
Maxine had a dense wave of golden hair on her head. The thick mane flowed to her slanted shoulders and flipped up at the ends. Her eyes were a deep purple and, unlike Rick, she had a thick forest of golden hair along her forearms and from her knees down. Her massive belly was bare and sans hair. The strategic spots in her fleshy body were covered by a short, turquoise top and a matching pair of what could only be called boy shorts that clung to her dense, muscular thighs.
Just on color spectrum alone, the female of the ogre species was a visual delight.
“How can we help the Office of the KoA today,” Rick yelled with a small bow in my direction.
I wanted to shake my head and tell him there was really no office. It was actually more of a loosely formed collection of ineptitude and chaos that I stumbled through on a daily basis trying to pretend I knew what I was doing. Given that reality, the awed reverence on his broad face felt wrong.
“We thought you might know of an artifact that has the ability to break down high-level wards,” Sebille told him.
Rick and Maxine shared a look. Frown lines marred Maxine’s high forehead, and she nodded. “We might.”
As a stubborn silence followed, I decided I’d capitalize on their obvious devotion to my title. “The Office of Keeper would greatly appreciate your help. This is a matter of great importance.”
The ogres shared another look. Something non-verbal passed between them. Maxine gave Rick a tiny nod.
He motioned for us to follow and turned away, plodding heavily toward an area in the distance where columns of sharp and broken rock jutted toward the sky. The sprite and I fell in behind him. Maxine took up the rear as if expecting trouble.
The ground beneath our feet seemed to shake with every footfall the ogres made. Small animals scurried away, alarm evident in their bulgy gazes and spiked fur. The lush trees and thick green grass of the spot where they’d met us slipped away as if the world was a kaleidoscope and the verdant frame was giving way to the rock-hewn one.
In place of the grass, rocks of all shapes and sizes, most a monotone of gray or brown in dusty tones, covered the ground. Instead of trees, stalagmites of rock jutted from the ground, some the width of a medium-sized tree and some too large for me to wrap my arms around.
Cracked and broken arches of stone stood between the fractured columns, their bases thick with chunks of stone and heavy with dust.
It was a harsh landscape, reminiscent of a cave without the covering. I picked my way carefully over the rough terrain, noting that, despite their great size and awkward forms, the two ogres moved through the space with a catlike grace. They’d clearly spent a lot of time in the rocky environment.
Rick moved through a particularly large archway and his form narrowed, the air around him shimmering slightly as it folded over him until he was gone.
Sebille and I skidded to a halt, tiny pebbles skittering away from our feet as we froze in place.
The low rumble that was so like rocks sliding down a mountain had us whipping around. To my shock, Maxine was laughing. She winked at us. “All is not what it seems, small ones.” She extended a hand toward the archway. “Please, continue.”
I looked at Sebille.
She frowned, then finally nodded.
Reaching out, I grasped her wrist so we wouldn’t be separated, and, taking a deep breath, we stepped into what was obviously a portal of some kind. The air beneath the archway was warm and wobbly. It jiggled animatedly against my skin, nonthreatening but too weird to give comfort.
The sensation didn’t press against us so much as around us, like a vat of warm gelatin. We stepped out of the archway to a gentle tug of resistance and a soft burp of air, jerking to a stop at the sight before us. Unfortunately, we forgot there was an ogre coming through behind us. Maxine didn’t even have time to slow before her enormous frame slammed into us from behind.
And Sebille and I were flung forward, into the hairless naked form of a gigantic ogre, who was sprawled across an enormous golden throne.
4
Naida Elf on a Fleshy Shelf
“Gack! Ag!” I shoved desperately at the pale, naked thigh beneath my hands and kicked my feet, trying to extricate myself from the ogre’s au naturel lap. Beside me, Sebille flailed manically, punching me in the side of the head in her efforts to shove free. Finally, seemingly in a blind panic, she flattened her palm over my face and shoved, hard, pressing my face into the warm, squishy flesh I was trying so frantically to escape.
Sebille shot free, landing on her knees on the dirt floor of what appeared to be a big cave. She immediately surged to her feet and shuddered, a violent, full-body affair that nearly shook her right out of her Wicked Witch of the West shoes.
One of my flailing hands found the cool smoothness of the throne and shoved. I fell forward, my sneakers finally finding purchase in the dirt.
Relief shot through me like a jolt of electricity.
I was almost free.
A thick arm snaked around my waist, and I was yanked back to a thigh as wide as my entire body. It was like sitting on a warm, flesh-covered shelf.
Bright blue, bead-like eyes observed me with a definite twinkle. Above the eyes was a mop of wild, white hair. Below the eyes was a bulbous red nose. Under the nose was a wide smile framed in white hair that fell to the ogre’s bare chest.
Nipples on a Nanny Goat! I needed eye bleach.
I closed my eyes, cursing Sebille for sacrificing me to get herself free.
The ogre holding me in place shook with jolly laughter. He was like an ogre-shaped Santa with a cringing, miserable tot perched on his lap.
Except that ogre Santa was sans red velvet and a reindeer short of a full ride.
Goddess in a gondola!
I was Naida Elf on a fleshy shelf.
Waving my arms and kicking my legs, I tried in vain to propel myself free. My body didn’t move. Not even a little bit.
I turned to those amusement-filled eyes and glared. “Let me go!”
When he merely laughed again, I glared at the others. “Do something!” I barked out.
Sebille spun around as if she’d just remembered I was there and held up her hands. Pale green energy spit from her palms. “Let her go,” she warned the naked ogre.
Our host and hostess stopped laughing. Rick stepped forward, hands extended in supplication. “No! Don’t zap The Benevolent One!”
I glared at Rick. “I’d prefer to observe his benevolence from a distance if you don’t mind.” Then I realized what I’d said and my face heated. “I mean. I don’t want to observe his benevolence at all. Not one part of it.” I flinched, my face hot enough to cook an egg. “I just want him to let me go.”
“And to put on some clothes,” Sebille added, her eyes lifted to the cavern ceiling high above us.
Maxine tittered. “The Benevolent One rarely wears clothes when giving audience.”
I frowned, my gaze turned determinedly away as The Benevolent… Gah! His name had too many syllables. I decided to call him TBO for short. “Then wrap him in a towel or something. This is disturbing on so many levels.”
“It is an honor to be seen by The Benevolent One,” Rick said, frowning his displeasure at our reactions.
“It isn’t being seen that’s the problem,” Sebille said.
“I’d prefer to see less of him,” I snarked. “Much less.”
Sebille snorted unhelpfully.
Rick continued to glare at us. Clearly, he was displeased.
“Irgh peicewa forgu,” Maxine said in a growly tone. “Blawa dergh vishgu.”
TBO’s sparkling gaze turned my way. Whatever Maxine had said to the unwrapped ogre, he didn’t seem to have taken offense. “Gerch blazu veerg,” the elder responded. He gave me a gentle shove and I scrambled off his knee. Rick dropped a long red scarf of some kind over TBO’s shoulders, and the elder wrapped it around his upper torso with quick, expert movements. For a guy who spent much of his time unclothed, he seemed very adept at covering the parts that didn’t really need covering.
“Um,” I said. Then catching Rick’s glare, I swallowed the rest of my complaint.
Sebille leaned close. “Let’s just get what we came for and get out of here,” she murmured.
I sighed. “Benevolent One,” I began.
The twinkle was dashed from the black eyes. “Gardnu freesh!” he barked angrily.
Rick bobbed frantically, his gaze locked on the dirt at his feet. “Forgitch ignu kompa.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“You must do the supplication dance before you speak with The Benevolent One,” Maxine said.
I bit back another sigh. “Okay. What’s the dance?”
“You must do the Hockum Pockla.”
I looked at Maxine. “I have no idea what that is.”
“It is simple,” she said.
“The dance is steeped in ogre history,” Rick said, nodding.
“Fine,” I said. “What do I need to do?”
Maxine coughed into her hand and cleared her throat, seeming to struggle to keep from coughing again. Finally, she looked up and cleared her throat one more time. “Apologies. Allergies. You understand.”
I nodded.
“Okay,” she said. “First, You put your right foot in.”
“Then, You put your right foot out,” Rick added.
“You put your right foot in,” Maxine said on another cough, her shoulders shaking suspiciously.
“And then…” Rick coughed too, seeming to have to work to pull himself together. “And you shake it all about.”
“You do the Hockum Pockla,” Maxine said between clenched teeth.
Rick continued, “And you turn yourself around.”
Maxine shrugged. “That's what it's all about.”
I eyed them, starting to smell a rat.
“Have fun with that,” my traitor of an assistant said.
Maxine violently cleared her throat. “Darn allergies.” She smiled at us. “Both of you came before The Benevolent One, so both must do the Hockum Pockla.”
It was Sebille’s turn to frown. “Goddess on a Stairmaster,” she groused.
I laughed at her discomfort.
All three ogres narrowed their gazes on us.
My smile died. “Okay, Sebille. Let’s just get it over with.”
We put our right feet in.
We put our right feet out.
We put our right feet in.
And we shook them all about.
We did the Hockum Pockla.
And we turned ourselves around.
“And that's what it's all about,” we chorused together.
My entire body was pink from embarrassment.
TBO clapped his hands, delighted. “Again!” he barked in perfect English.
Feeling like marionettes on strings, we complied. The ogres made us do it five more times before they devolved into boneless laughter and lost the ability to ask for more.
Sebille and I shared a horrified glance. Steeped in ogre history my wide white boohind.
We’d been had.
An hour later, we parked on the street and walked the two blocks toward Croakies. I stared at the object clinging to the very tips of my fingers and grimaced. “It’s your turn to hold it.”
I’d driven all the way back from ogreville with one hand, the other gripping the object we’d retrieved from the ogres between two fingernails.
Sebille’s response was a snort of laughter. “I’m not touching that thing. I know where it's been.”
Unfortunately, I knew where it had been too, and I fully intended to drop it in bleach as soon as we got home. I shoved the object I was holding toward Sebille, but she popped into her sprite form and darted several yards above my head.
“You’re the worst,” I groused in ill humor.
I unwound the wards and unlocked the front door of the bookstore, pushing it open. Sebille buzzed past my head, entering the store ahead of me and darting toward the dividing door. A quick flash of pale green energy opened the door that separated the artifact library from the bookstore, and she buzzed on through.
With a sigh, I started to close the front door.
A large hand slammed against the door’s surface before I could close it.
I yelped in surprise and jumped, dropping the disgusting artifact I’d been barely holding to the floor.
A tall man with lank dark hair, piercing gray eyes, and an oversized hook nose stepped through the door he’d kept me from closing.
“Oh. Can I help you?” I asked. The man in front of me oozed hostility like a baby rainbow dragon oozes happiness.
I frowned. What had made me think about Sadie? A beat later, my friend Rustin, the ghost witch, and his adorable amalgamate dragon came through the door behind my visitor. Ah. I must have heard the buzzing of her wings, and my subconscious added her to my metaphor
.
Sadie was a rare amalgamate dragon from the rainforests of Hawaii. She’d been integral to Rustin achieving a corporeal form after his evil Uncle Jacob Quilleran put his soul form into Mr. Slimy with an experimental spell that hadn’t gone as planned.
Fortunately Rustin’s aunt Madeline, who was one of the most powerful witches in Enchanted and probably the world, had given him a dual form of some kind. Though, to my knowledge, none of us had seen the other side of the duo yet. Rustin might have changed magically, but at over six-feet-tall with black-as-night hair, a square chin, and wire-rimmed glasses on his classically perfect nose, he still looked like my friend.
“Rustin!” I said. Stepping past my hostile visitor, I embraced the ghost witch. “How was your trip?” Rustin had taken Sadie to Hawaii for a couple of weeks to look for other amalgamates.
“It was good. Sadie loved being in the rain forest again.” Rustin’s gaze followed the little dragon as she flitted around the store, warbling softly. We watched as her slanted eyes turned turquoise, then purple, and then went black again.
“She’s looking for the songbirds,” Rustin said in his deep-timbered voice. His blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses.
I’d noticed his voice getting deeper lately and wondered if that was from the other half of his dual nature. I was going to have to crank up the courage to ask him about it soon. I’d been hoping he’d share. But he hadn’t. And the longer he’d gone without sharing, the more I worried he had a reason to hide it.
I nodded. “Sorry, Miss Sadie. They’re all gone.”
Until recently, the bookstore had been overflowing with songbirds, which were the residual effect of a handheld magic vacuum we’d acquired when we’d been trapped in another dimension. Long story, don’t ask. Once I’d realized that I gained several songbirds with every use, I’d declared its use off-limits to all and sundry.
But I had a resident hobgoblin at Croakies. If you know anything about hobgoblins, then you know what happened next. Yeah, telling one of the cute but naughty little creatures not to do something was like painting it in chocolate and waving it in front of their cacao-loving faces until they bit. Before I’d known it, I’d had hundreds of the birds in Croakies. I’d only recently lured the last of them outside.
