The Lightning-Struck Heart
Page 29
Ryan leaned forward, putting his hands on the table, spreading out his fingers. They were very nice-looking fingers, which of course led to thoughts of what those fingers could be used for. I had half an erection hidden underneath the table. Penises are seriously inconvenient sometimes. “You ever been to one of those meetings?” he asked casually.
And before I could even begin to think of a way to lie myself out of that one, Gary saved the day by coming back over to the table and saying, “You bitches talking about stuff?”
“Talkin’ ’bout,” Tiggy said as he followed Gary.
“What were you doing over there?” I asked him.
“Nothing,” Gary said, when he really meant something.
“Gary.”
“Sam,” he mocked.
I wasn’t going to take his shit. I went for the easy way out. “Tiggy. Buddy. Love. My sweet, sweet giant of man.”
“Pretty Sam,” he said, running a big hand over my head. “Sweet Sam.”
“What were you guys talking about over there?”
He put a finger on my lips and squashed my nose. “Shh, Sam,” he said. “Shh, shh, shh.”
“Mmmph! Mhmmmph!”
“You two looked cozy,” Gary said, looking between me and Ryan. “We interrupting something?”
“I was just telling Sam about the fan club meeting I ran into midafternoon the day before we left the castle.”
“Fan club,” Gary said flatly. “Midafternoon.”
Ryan had the decency to blush. “Apparently I have fans? And they meet?”
“At meetings,” Gary said, eyes burning into me as Tiggy still shushed me. “The day before we left the castle. Now, isn’t that just interesting.”
My eyes went wide. He knew. Godsdamn perceptive unicorns!
“Sam,” Gary said, because he was evil. “Weren’t you at a meeting the day before we left the castle? A secret meeting that none of us know anything about? That you often attend? By yourself?”
“Mmmmph! MMMPH!”
“Tiggy, dear,” Gary said. “Let Sam breathe. I’m sure whatever he’s about to say will be most enlightening. Wouldn’t want him to die by getting fingered to death or whatever it is you’re doing.”
“I no finger Sam,” Tiggy said, insulted. “I no finger him to death.” He pulled his hand away, and I pulled in a great, gasping breath.
“Stop… saying… fingering,” I panted.
Gary’s nose wrinkled. “Well, when you say it like that, it does sound unappealing. But back to the topic at hand. Sam. Love. Sweet pea. Meat muffin. Did you hear that you and Ryan attended meetings on the same day at around the same time?”
“Gosh!” I exclaimed. “What an amazing coincidence! No two people have ever had meetings at the same time before!”
“Hmmm,” Gary said. “I’m surprised you two didn’t corner each other.”
“Zing,” Tiggy said. “So much zing.”
“And here’s the conversation I don’t understand again,” Ryan sighed.
“I don’t understand it either,” I said. “Or anything Gary is saying. You shouldn’t want to. I don’t.”
“Ladies and gentleman!” a voice called out from behind us. “Can I have your attention please?”
I turned and looked over my shoulder. There stood a man in the middle of the tavern, on a small stage. He smiled as the noise of the crowd died down. In his hands, he carried a small lute, the strings taut, the baseboard made of oak. He ran his hands over the strings once and a melodious sound fell from them, bright and cheery.
The blood drained from my face.
It was the man Tiggy and Gary had been talking to.
And he was the bard o’ the tavern.
Meaning he sang songs.
Many times by request.
Many times made up on the spot.
I turned slowly to Tiggy and Gary, my heart thundering in my chest.
They were grinning at me, wide and toothy.
“You… didn’t.”
“Oh, Sam,” Gary said. “You should never underestimate a unicorn and a giant.”
“What’s going on?” Ryan asked.
“We’re leaving,” I said. “Now.”
Gary sat on me.
“Oh… shit,” I managed to wheeze as my chair creaked underneath us.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Gary said, wiggling a bit.
“Can’t… breathe….”
“Are you calling me fat?” he said, looking back at me.
“Seriously…. Gary… for the love of gods.” His tail flicked once into my face. “Your asshole… is right there.”
“Good thing I poop rainbows and cookie smells,” he reminded me. As if that was supposed to make this any less awkward.
“I do hope you’re enjoying your evening here in Arvin’s Crossing,” the bard said, completely oblivious that I was technically getting to third base with a unicorn while Tiggy and Ryan watched. I thought maybe I’d had a dream like that once. It was not sexy. “But, chances are, since you’re in Arvin’s Crossing, you’re not having any fun at all.”
The others in the tavern laughed uproariously. I was too busy getting squished by a gigantic ass. Plus, it wasn’t that funny. Maybe it was a more of a regional humor kind of thing. Not like puns. Puns are universal. And awesome.
“But!” the bard said when the laughter died down. “We are truly in the presence of greatness tonight, folks. Guests of honor so astounding that the floor will tremble beneath your very feet. But first! A brief word from our sponsors who help keep me, your host, Zal the Magnificent, in business.” He bowed and took a step off the stage.
A thin man with a receding hairline stood up and took his place. When he spoke, it was in monotone as he read from a dirty piece of parchment in his hands. “Do you have gout? Is your love life suffering because you’re inadequately proportioned? Do you lie awake at night and dream about setting people on fire and bathing in their boiling blood? If you answered yes to any of those questions, then hold on to your hats, because I have a solution for you. Dr. Troy’s Amazing Elixir of Rejuvenation, Revitalization, and Repression. Just one sip and your joints will be limber, you’ll have a giant member, and you won’t feel the need to conflagrate and dismember. Dr. Troy’s Amazing Elixir of Rejuvenation, Revitalization, and Repression. Buy it today.” He took a breath and then muttered quickly and quietly, “Dr. Troy is under royal decree to disclose that he is not a real doctor, has never been to medical school, and makes the elixir in his shack in the woods. It should not be consumed by anyone in their right mind or who wants to continue to live in a remotely healthy way. Do not feed it to animals or children or they will die a horribly painful death when their insides melt and leave the body in a most effervescent manner through every orifice available.”
The man stepped off the stage.
“Gary, if you don’t get off me, I’m going to magic you to death,” I whisper-shouted.
“Shhh,” Gary said. “It’s rude to try and interrupt an artist about to perform.”
“Bards are not artists.” Because they weren’t. They were jerks.
“Art is subjective,” Ryan said.
“Your face is subjective,” I muttered as I prepared for one of my ribs to collapse.
“You really need new insults,” Gary said.
“I’m going to get some of that elixir and force-feed it to you.”
“Maybe you should consider using some of it yourself,” he said, wiggling his ass. “Little Sam feels like he could use a growth hormone right about now.”
“Murder,” I hissed.
“Shhhhh,” Tiggy said. “Song man going to sing song.”
Zal the Magnificent stepped back up, a cynical smile curving on his lips. That didn’t bode well. “Thank you, Jerome,” he said to the balding man, “for that ever-resplendent rendition. Your joy and humor are like sparkles of light in my darkened life.”
The balding man flipped him off.
“Now,” Zal said jovially. “Yo
u may have noticed a rather interesting group of travelers have found their way to our little tavern. Ladies and gentleman—though most of you are nowhere near gentle, and I use the term ‘ladies’ rather loosely, because if the shoe fits!—all the way from the City of Lockes, it’s a really tall guy, a gorgeous and beautiful creature with eyes like jewels that sparkle in firelight, that other one, Gary, and the future sticky wicket for the Prince!”
Everyone turned to us.
“Wait,” Gary said. “Did you mean Sam is the gorgeous and beautiful creature with eyes like jewels that sparkle in firelight? And I’m ‘the other one’?” He sounded outraged.
“I tall guy.” Tiggy was pleased. It didn’t take much.
“What the hell is a sticky wicket?” Ryan asked, brow furrowed. “And is he flirting with Sam? Seriously. Everyone.”
“Still can’t breathe,” I managed to say. “Vision getting fuzzy around the edges.”
“Drama queen,” Gary muttered.
The bard ignored us all. “They are on an epic quest,” he said, sounding excited and amazed and slightly mocking all at once. “To save the Prince of Verania from the evil dragon that stole him to keep Justin as his own. Through fire and danger and certain death, they have traveled from the City of Lockes to seek the return of the one true love of the Knight Commander.”
Most of the ladies (who were actually probably whores) and even some of the men (who were actually probably whores) sighed, as if the notion of the romance between Ryan and Justin was so wonderful it necessitated a starstruck exhalation.
“Yay, Rystin!” someone shouted on the other side of the tavern. I couldn’t see who it was so I was unfortunately unable to mark them for death. It was disappointing. “Whoo! Rystin!”
“Rystin, indeed,” Zal said, eyes alight with mischief. “We have a saying in Arvin’s Crossing, don’t we, my dears?”
“Yeah!” the crowd roared back.
“And what is that saying?”
“We travel far, we travel long, stories told through ale and song!”
“That was really lame,” I said, shoving at Gary. He didn’t budge.
“I think it’s adorable,” Gary said. “So backwoods and rustic.”
“So!” Zal said. “We have a future King’s Wizard. A knight commander. A giant. And a unicorn. And the lovely Tiggy and Gary have requested we sing for them!”
“You motherfucker,” I said to Gary. “You too, Tiggy.”
Tiggy pouted. “Song man said it be good.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Gary told him. “Sam’s just bitchy because he’s not getting away.”
“I feel like I’m in a waking fever dream,” Ryan said to no one in particular. “Like, these past weeks are the product of extraordinary illness and I’m actually in bed hallucinating all of this.”
“Do you often hallucinate about Sam while you’re in bed?” Gary asked.
Ryan blushed terribly.
I told myself that the fact I couldn’t breathe right then was the product of having a unicorn sitting on me. Nothing else.
“Now, we know my skills with the lute are divine.” Zal ran his hands over the strings and a pretty chord echoed in the tavern. “My voice has been called melodious and sublime. Now I’ll sing you a verse or six. Ladies and gentleman, guests of esteemed honor, I give you… ‘Cheesy Dicks and Candlesticks.’”
“What,” I said.
“What?” Ryan said.
“This is gonna be goooood,” Gary breathed.
Tiggy grinned.
And Zal the Magnificent began to sing.
There once was a princely man,
Who had jewels for eyes and hair most fair.
Set, he was, to rule this land,
Undoubtedly down with panache and flair.
But plans have changed, due to nefarious deeds,
As a dragon came and stole the Prince away.
And Verania waits for him to be freed!
So he can return and be wed in a ceremony most gay.
Ohhhhhh!
Cheesy dicks and candlesticks!
And everything you need!
Listen as I sing a verse or six
Here in this land of sloth and greed!
“Whaaaaat the hell?” Ryan said.
“This is so much better than my dreams,” Gary said reverently.
But fear not, my lads and lasses,
For there are heroes to be told!
A wizardly man and a knight who sasses,
A unicorn, a giant, all who’re brave and bold!
They travel the lands on a desperate quest,
To save a love that’s bright and true,
With the sword of knight and the wizard’s best.
Sing with me now, you know what to do!
Ryan and I didn’t sing.
Everyone else did.
Including Tiggy and Gary. Those bastards.
Cheesy dicks and candlesticks!
And everything you need!
Listen as I sing a verse or six,
Here in this land of sloth and greed!
Our heroes have traveled far and wide.
The wizard was almost gay fairy married.
He’d have been the most beautiful forced bride,
But thankfully, he was saved by Gary.
“You fat sack of crap,” I growled at Gary. “That’s not even close to what happened!”
“Please,” Gary sniffed. “I was there. I have eyes. You would have been lost without me.”
They learned the secret of the dragon’s keep
Hidden deep in valley and made of stone.
And the knight turned a corner, and all maidens weep!
Because what feelings are these that have surely grown?
The tavern erupted into the chorus again while I glared at Gary with the strength of a thousand suns.
“Corners and stones again,” Ryan said. “Sure would be nice if someone would explain to me what’s going on.”
“Yes, Sam,” Gary said. “Wouldn’t that be nice? If someone explained? What was going on?”
“I’m trying to listen to the song,” I insisted.
From there they went to Mama’s den,
And behind closed doors, met with she.
In a house of whores and men,
No one is more fucked than me!
There in the house lives an elf,
A noble creature graced with dignity,
Who has set a goal for his own self
To relieve our wizard of his virginity!
More chorus.
“Gary,” I bit out. “You better hope you can run really fast, because I am going to light your whole body on fire.”
“I’m already flaming enough,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“At least they’re not singing about Todd and his damn ears,” Ryan muttered.
“Cheesy dicks!” Tiggy said. “Cheesy dicks.”
And alas, like most stories do,
We now approach the end.
Will our heroes return with something new?
Tales of a prince they chose to defend?
Of battles fought and dragon’s skin they did part.
Perhaps they’ll return with badges made of scars.
Or will they discover the war in their hearts,
As it is surely written upon these stars.
My skin buzzed.
Ryan said, “Sam,” in such a quiet voice.
Noise erupted around us.
Ohhhhhh!
Cheesy dicks and candlesticks!
And everything you need!
Listen as I sing a verse or six
Here in this land of sloth and greed!
The song ended to thunderous applause.
I STOOD at the bar, nursing a mug of ale, crisp and tart. A piano played a jaunty tune, people laughing and dancing into the night. I didn’t know where the others were. Probably around somewhere. I felt I was justified in ignoring them for a bit. Especially Gary. Mostly Gary. Pretty much all Ga
ry.
If we weren’t best friends and he weren’t protected by law since he was a magical creature, I would have skinned him alive and made him into a nice area rug.
So, of course, he found me first and said, “You mad? You look mad.”
“Volcanic in my fury,” I replied evenly.
He sighed. “Well, maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but I think we can all agree that it was a good show.”
My hand tightened on the wooden mug. It cracked audibly.
“Yikes,” Gary said. “Definitely mad.”
“If I were a unicorn,” I told him, “there would be glitter pouring off me right now.”
“Unicorn rage,” he whispered, eyes wide.
“So much unicorn rage. Like, the ragiest unicorn rage ever.”
“Is that why you are getting drunk by yourself and glaring at the wall?”
“I am not getting drunk by myself and glaring—oh. Wait. I am. Yes. That is why.”
“Oh.” He put his nose against my ear and snuffled loudly. I grimaced. “I love you,” he said, his lips rubbing against my jaw.
“Gross. Stop it.”
“Can’t. Love you. Love you, boo. Love you so much. You my girl. Bitches before snitches.”
“Except you snitched to Zal the Magnificent.”
“I paid him for a performance piece. There’s a big difference.”
“You’re going to need stitches by the time I’m done with you.”
He snorted in my ear. “You’re adorable when you threaten me. Seriously.”
I snarled at him.
“Oops. I meant, oh no! Please, Sam! Don’t cut me! I’m so frightened. You’re sooo scary!”
“Damn right,” I said, knocking back more ale. Like a man.
“It was a pretty good song, though,” Gary said. He just couldn’t help himself.
“I’m going to invent a spell for penis rot and give it to you and you’re going to be all like, no, why did I do this to Sam? Why was I so mean? I should have been nicer and now my penis looks like an old-growth forest.”