by Robert Bevan
“Are you talking about an... abortion?” asked Randy.
“Of course not. Don't go bringing politics into this shit. Ain't nobody said nothin' about no abortions. I'm just talking about getting rid of these fucking monster babies growing inside me.”
The town Katherine had flown out from was visible as a shimmering green haze on the eastern horizon, but it would be a long walk. Darius, the pegasus she'd befriended and who'd rescued her and Butterbean from the Crescent Shadow, could fly them there in no time if Katherine stuffed them all in her Bag of Holding.
She opened the bag and was about to open her mouth when she spotted Randy frowning pitifully at the bag as he stroked the big lizard monster's cheek. He'd gone and fallen for the thing. She wanted to reason with him, maybe promise to buy him a less disgusting-looking pet like a puppy or a kitten, that would have eyes and be able to fit easily through the mouth of a Bag of Holding. But when she thought of her own relationship with Butterbean, and the amount of reasoning it would take for someone to convince her to ditch him in the desert, she surmised that convincing Randy would be more trouble than just making the journey on foot.
“Fuck,” said Katherine, then scanned the ground for a suitable parting gift. Spotting a nice ripe cantaloupe, she plucked it from the vine and held it before Darius. “Thank you for your help. You can go home. I have to travel with these people now.”
Darius bit off a quarter of the cantaloupe, swallowed it back, then took another bite. He finished the whole thing in under a minute, then pressed his cheek against Katherine's.
“Thank you again. Maybe we'll see each other again someday.” Katherine wrapped her arms around his neck and stroking his mane.
Darius whinnied quietly. When Katherine let go, he reared up on his hind legs, spread his massive black wings, and started flying back toward Produce City, or whatever the hell that place was called.
Chapter 3
“That idiot!” said Dave, clenching his fists so hard that the leopard fur on his left forearm bristled. “He killed Chaz, he killed himself, and he's essentially killed all of us by taking the water with him.”
Julian peered through the bars at the bottom of his cage, but couldn't make out much. “We don't know they're dead. Cooper wouldn't have jumped if he didn't think he could save Chaz.”
“He is as brave as he is stupid,” said Captain Righteous. “But I must agree with the dwarf. The chances of either of them surviving that fall... I'm sorry for your losses.”
Stacy lay on the floor of her cage, with her head poking out of the open side. “I see something down there. Like a big red splat.”
Julian cringed. “Cooper.”
“Oh,” said Stacy. “I should have been clearer. It doesn't look like the obvious big red splat one might expect to see. It's a brighter red.”
Julian suddenly had an idea. He pulled his serape open. “Ravenus! Wake up!”
Ravenus opened his beak wide and yawned. “Good morning, sir.”
“Cooper and Chaz just fell. I need you to fly to the ground and see if they're all right.”
Ravenus looked down outside the cage, then back up at Julian. “I'm not sure I need to fly all the way down there to assess their situation, sir.”
“Will you please just humor me?”
“Very good, sir.” Ravenus crawled out from Julian's serape and hopped down to the edge of the cage floor.
“And Ravenus,” said Julian.
“Yes?”
“If they're... you know... dead, we're going to try to get them resurrected, so don't eat their eyes.”
“Very good, sir.” Ravenus let himself fall out of the cage, spread his wings, and glided in a downward spiral to the desert below.
Captain Righteous glared at Julian through his cage bars.
“What?” said Julian.
“You've had that bird tucked under your clothes this whole time?”
“Not in a weird way or anything. He likes it in there.”
“It can understand everything you say, and follow commands?”
“Ravenus is my familiar.”
“Then why did you not command it to go seek help, or a lever to raise these cages, or... or anything at all?”
Julian frowned. That was an excellent question with no readily apparent non-stupid answer.
“Honestly, with all we've just been through, it slipped my mind.”
“I can't believe it,” said Dave. “You've killed us all.”
“We don't know that anyone's dead.” Julian was feeling quite a bit of guilt, but he wasn't going to let Dave throw him under the bus. “Besides, you knew I had Ravenus with me. I didn't hear you bringing up any ideas.”
“I've been up here for days!” Dave shook the bars of his cage. “I'm starving and exhausted! I can barely think straight. And I didn't have the easy key to our survival nuzzled against my fucking chest this whole time!”
“Take it easy, Dave,” said Stacy. “These cages are old. If you snap your chain, I'm not jumping down after you.”
Dave looked at the broken length of chain that used to support Chaz's cage, then stopped shaking the bars and started weeping.
“We're going to be okay,” said Julian. “Ravenus must be close enough to see them by now. I'm not sensing any feelings of sadness or sudden hunger from him. So Cooper's idea might have worked. When Ravenus reports back, I'll send him to go look for –”
The sun jumped about two feet to the right. The sky was brighter, the air was warmer, and tall rock formations suddenly appeared on the southern horizon. Julian's Empathic Link with Ravenus was severed.
“– shit.”
“Whoa!” said Stacy. “Are those dragons?”
Julian hadn't noticed them before she mentioned it, preoccupied with worry for Ravenus. But now that he was paying attention, he could see massive flying lizards circling around the rocks.
Captain Righteous laughed. “They only wish. Even from a distance you can see they lack front legs.”
“So they're...” Julian paused in the hope that the captain would fill in the blank. When that failed to happen, he was forced to think of something to finish his sentence. “...amputees?”
Captain Righteous looked at him like he was wondering if that was a serious question. “They're wyverns.”
“What's a wyvern?” asked Stacy.
“A distant cousin to dragons, but dumber than an ogre, and even some of you. They've been hunted to extinction in most parts of the world by trophy hunters who try to pass off their heads as those of true dragons, by certain types of dragons who find their existence distasteful, and by –”
A tiny orange ball of magical energy streaked across the sky from higher up on the Crescent Shadow toward the rocks on the horizon. It struck one of the wyverns and expanded like a second sun before collapsing in on itself again. The wyvern spiraled out of control and crashed into the rocks.
Captain Righteous sighed. “And by the occasional random asshole.”
“They seem to be thriving well enough here,” said Julian. “I mean, aside from that one.”
“Those rocks you see are called Wyvern's Roost. Beyond that is the Southern Sea. Look east and you'll see the wastelands of Meb'Garshur. West is the gnomish kingdom of Kobbleboch.” Captain Righteous squinted, put his arm through the bars, and pointed at something just west of Wyvern Roost. “If you look carefully, you can make out the village of Plonket. The gnomes there have a special relationship with the wyverns of the Roost. They even have a division of Wyvern Riders.”
“It's nice that they care enough to protect endangered wildlife,” said Stacy.
“Nice has nothing to do with it. Wyvern's Roost is the only thing that keeps the orcs of Meb'Garshur from marching into Kobbleboch. The Southern Sea provides plenty enough food, and the gnomes in Plonket actually developed special incubation chambers for the wyverns' eggs to help them reproduce more quickly.”
“Fascinating,” said Dave. “When I'm drinking my own piss in an effort to s
tave off death for a few more miserable hours, I'll be so glad to have spent what little time I had left learning the history of Knobbycock.”
“Do you suppose there's any chance of us attracting the attention of one of those Wyvern Riders?” asked Stacy.
Captain Righteous shook his head. “Doubtful. Even if any of those wyverns had riders, which they don't appear to, we're too far away for them to spot.”
“That's what I thought.” Stacy sighed and pulled a coil of black rope out of her pack.
“What are you doing?” asked Julian.
“Getting us out of here.”
“How?”
“By being awesome.” She tied one end of the rope to the bottom of a bar next to the open side of the cage. After giving it a couple of good yanks to make sure it was secure, she tossed the rest of the coil out to dangle in the open air.
Dave frowned. “If you had a hundred more ropes, I could see where you were going with this, but –”
“Please shut up, Dave. I'm nervous enough about this as it is.” Stacy climbed out of the cage and lowered herself slowly down the rope.
“I've got to agree with Dave on this one,” said Julian. “Taking fifty feet off your fall isn't going to make a whole lot of difference.”
Stacy, having reached the bottom of the rope, looked up and smiled at him. “Then I'd better not fall.” She kicked both legs forward, then back, then forward, then back, getting into a swinging motion.
Julian finally figured out what she was going for, and it nearly made him throw up.
She was trying to swing far enough to jump over to the observation platform where Mordred had slit Tim's throat. Success would involve a nearly impossible Dexterity check.
“What you're trying to do is preposterous!” said Captain Righteous. “Get back in your cage.”
Stacy swung harder, getting a little more height with each swing. “It looks preposterous, but like I said, I'm awesome.”
Julian glanced nervously up at the chain holding Stacy's cage, then even more nervously down at Stacy. “Your high ability scores make you better than average at things. They don't make you a superhero.”
“If you've got any better ideas, I'm listening.” She had the cage swinging at this point.
“I think not killing yourself is a better idea.”
“I agree,” said an old man's voice from up on the observation platform.
The speaker was a little old gnome in what looked like Ebeneezer Scrooge pajamas, complete with a nightcap. He frowned at the dangling length of chain that used to be holding Chaz's cage.
“What's going on up there?” asked Stacy. “Who is that?”
“Just climb back up the rope, would you?” said Julian. Then he made eye contact with the old gnome. “Are you here to rescue us?”
The gnome shrugged. “I suppose. I heard shouting, and I came down to investigate.” He looked at Katherine's empty cage, then at Cooper's. “I seem to remember hearing more voices.”
“Some of our friends managed to escape already,” said Julian. “At least, we hope.”
“Please, sir,” said Dave. “I've been in here a long time. I haven't eaten or slept. Can we talk about this after you've pulled the cages back up?”
The gnome scratched his beard and nodded slowly, like he had other things on his mind.
“Please!” Dave repeated.
“Yes, of course,” said the gnome, as if suddenly coming out of a trance. “I saw some levers in the room back there.” He nodded back to the opening behind him. “I suppose one of those might do the trick.”
“Awesome. Go give it a try, why don't you?”
Julian shot Dave a warning look. His tone was bordering on disrespectful.
The gnome retreated into the small opening at the rear of the observation platform. A few seconds later, there was a loud click from above. Cooper's cage fell, trailing the entirety of its long chain behind it.
“Shit!” cried Stacy, about halfway back up her rope. “What just happened?”
“Wrong lever,” said Bingam, Captain Righteous's fatter and less competent nephew.
The old gnome emerged back onto the platform. “How was that?”
“Bad!” said Dave. “Really really bad!”
“Oh dear.” The gnome frowned at the empty space where Cooper's cage had been hanging. “Lucky I tested that one first. I think I see how it works now.”
“You think?” said Bingam. “Do you think? Or do you know?”
“One never knows until one tries. The best I can do is make an educated guess based on what I've observed.”
“Can you go find someone else?”
“No!” said Julian. As unsettling as watching that cage fall had been, he reasoned that the levers were designed in such a way that pushing them one way would release the cages, and pushing them the other way would pull the cages back up, and that this wizened old gnome was smart enough to know that. Sending him off to go look for someone more competent was not only extremely insulting to the person who held their lives in his hands, but it would also unnecessarily lengthen the time they all spent dangling in cages of questionably sound structural integrity.
“You're doing a fine job!” said Julian, laying the Diplomacy on thick. “Whatever you did with that first lever, maybe try doing the opposite with a different one.”
“Thank you, elf. I'll take that into consideration.”
Shit. A failed Diplomacy roll. He'd come off as condescending.
The gnome walked back into the control room.
CLICK
The chain which had been holding Chaz's cage slid out from the opening above and plummeted like a snake down to the desert.
Bingam yelped like a puppy whose tail had just been stepped on. “He thinks he sees how it works now!” He glared at Julian. “That crazy old gnome is going to kill us all thanks to you!”
“Oh, I know how it works,” said the gnome, coming back to the platform. “That one was for all your smart talk, young feller.”
That was terrific news. He'd released Chaz's chain on purpose, which meant he knew exactly which lever to pull and which way to pull it.
“We're very sorry!” said Julian. “Our fear got the better of us.”
The gnome nodded, then looked sternly at Bingam.
Captain Righteous glared severely at Bingam. “By the gods, nephew, if you don't apologize this instant, I'll –”
“I'm sorry!” Bingam sobbed and blubbered, shaking his cage. “I'm so-o-o-o-rry!”
Captain Righteous shook his head. “His apology is sincere, friend. He is a weakling and a coward, but deserves not to suffer death for that.”
The gnome nodded. “Very well.” He retreated once more into the control room.
With a series of heart-stopping clicks, the cages began to ascend.
“Ha ha!” cried Dave. “It's working!”
Julian leaned back in his cage, breathing heavily with relief.
Stacy, now back inside her own cage, smiled at him. “I still think I could have made that jump. But I'm glad I didn't have to.”
Julian smiled back. “Me too.”
Chapter 4
“You must really like tomatoes,” said Cooper.
The truth was actually quite the opposite. Chaz detested tomatoes, but he hadn't eaten in days. He'd gorged himself on the bitter pulpy insides of the massive fruit. It was delicious at first, then merely tolerable. When his stomach was full, and his arms looked like he'd just performed a back-alley appendectomy with his bare hands, the sour smell made him want to throw up.
He looked up, focusing on the crescent-shaped island to calm his stomach. When it blinked out of existence, his insides ejected a thick red stream of vomit, indistinguishable from the tomato goop floating on top of the water, which had risen up to Cooper's nipples before he'd deactivated the Decanter of Endless Water.
Cooper frowned at Chaz's tomato puke. “I guess I shouldn't jump to conclusions.”
“Where the fuck is it?”
“Right here, dude.” Cooper pointed at the amoeba-shaped mass of vomit floating between them. A sudden burst of bubbles surfaced in and around the vomit island and the pink water darkened by a few degrees of brown.
“The island, shithead! It's gone!” Chaz ignored the aches and pains from his recent fall and got to his feet. He grabbed a sepal and pulled himself up until he could reach the stem with his other hand. Struggling to find footholds in the goop along the wall, he managed to climb back out of the entry wound he'd created in the top of the tomato when he fell through. When he saw the main stalk of the plant, as wide around as the trunk of an oak tree, he discovered that the tomato they'd landed in wasn't actually resting on the ground as he'd assumed. But it was too late. The tomato skin was rubbery smooth, and his whole body was slick with tomato innards.
“SHIIIIIIT!” he screamed as he slid down the side. Fortunately, it was only about a ten-foot drop. Unfortunately, he was now coated from head to toe with sand.
“Dude,” Cooper called out from the giant tomato dangling above Chaz's head. “Are you okay?”
Chaz struggled to his feet and spat out some tomato flavored sand. “I will be after a shower. Can you bring that decanter down here?”
“Sure thing.”
If anything could lift Chaz's spirits right now, it would be watching Cooper fall off this tomato and land on his big stupid ass. He watched, waiting for a half-orc head to appear out of the top of the fruit. Instead, a fist punched through the skin near the bottom.
“Oh dear God no.”
The tomato skin ruptured, and Chaz was struck by a gush of tomato juice, vomit, shit, and half-orc.
“Jesus,” said Cooper, picking himself up off Chaz. “That was like... being born.”
“Get the fuck off of me!” cried Chaz. His fists squelched as he punched at Cooper's slimy chest.
“Hey,” said Cooper. “You need to chill the fuck out.” He got to his feet, releasing the flow of soiled water and tomato juice he must have been blocking, and dousing Chaz with more of the rancid liquid.
Son of a –
A glint of silver gave Chaz a split-second warning before the Decanter of Endless Water rode the flow out of the tomato and connected hard with his face.
