by Robert Bevan
Julian wasn't sure that a person not having an immediate utilitarian purpose to serve was grounds for not worrying about having just let them fall to their death, but he wasn't in the right frame of mind to have this argument with Stacy.
“How do you know?”
“The way he looked at you,” said Stacy. “He was horrified that a dude had grabbed his dick, but he didn't recognize you.”
She was right. Julian stretched his neck to look at her. The silver dragon claw pendant grasped the black die just below the top of her ear.
“Then who was he? And how did he get his hands on one of Mordred's dice?”
Stacy sighed. “Those are both excellent questions. Maybe we should have tried a little harder to rescue him after all.”
Chapter 13
Cooper could sense Nabi's excitement and nervousness grow with each step they took toward Glittersprinkles Grove. She was returning home, but home wasn't going to be the same as when she'd left it. Also, returning as an axe wasn't exactly ideal either.
Cooper had been feeling similarly excited and nervous, but that had less to do with getting closer to Glittersprinkles Grove, and more to do with getting as far away from Totino as possible before that jailer discovered the shit soaked through his mattress and smeared all over his wall. Now that it was mid-afternoon, he figured he was out of the woods, figuratively speaking.
“We could literally be going anywhere else right now,” said Chaz. “And there are definitely other places we should go. And yet we're making a beeline for this place which three people explicitly told us we should stay the fuck away from because your axe wants to go there.”
Cooper continued walking, willing himself not to turn around and geyser Chaz in the face. Doing it too often would only slow them down and make it less effective in the long run.
“Are you listening to me?” Chaz continued. “Does that not sound crazy to you?”
“No, it doesn't. But you're starting to sound a little thirsty.”
“Hose me all you want. That dude said those woods are crawling with shadows.”
Cooper would have preferred a conversation with Ravenus at this point. “All fucking woods have shadows in them!”
“No no no,” said Chaz. “You don't get to play the stupid card on this one. You and I both know he wasn't talking about regular shadows. He was talking about some kind of undead, like ghosts or ghouls or some shit.”
“Dude, nobody's begging you to tag along. If you want to go, here's my blessing.” Cooper stopped, closed his eyes, and concentrated until a fart squeaked out.
“I just might do that, you know. It's in my best interest to stay with you now because safety in numbers and all that. But when you walk into ghoul-infested woods, it'll be time for me to reevaluate my plans. You're armed with a big-ass axe. I'm not armed with shit. Even my lute got smashed when I hit the big tomato.”
Cooper sighed. Chaz had finally done it. He'd worn Cooper down to the point where it was worth trying an explanation. He stopped and turned around.
Chaz flinched, raising his arms in self-defense.
“I picked up this axe on the Barrier Islands off the body of an orc that I killed.”
Chaz lowered his arms slowly. “Do you think I'm trying to take your axe, because that's way off base.”
“I'm just explaining,” said Cooper. “We met in a random remote place under a random and remote set of circumstances. Then we landed in the desert in another random and remote place, under another random and remote set of circumstances, only a few days' walk from Nabi's homeland. I feel like the game brought me here for a reason.”
“The game didn't bring us here,” said Chaz. “You brought us here when you decided to hose me down with dickwater!”
“But you don't find it coincidental that I decided to hose you down with dickwater only a few days' walk from Nabi's homeland?”
“No! Because Knobby is a hunk of steel, and therefore doesn't have a homeland. You're talking to an inanimate object and picking coincidences out of the ether to corroborate your own delusions. It's like A Beautiful Mind if Russell Crowe's character was retarded.”
How did you know about Glittersprinkles Grove or the faefolk who live there?
As if Cooper didn't have enough to deal with right now. “Because you fucking told me about them.”
“I told you about what?” asked Chaz.
Cooper rolled his eyes. “Not you, dipshit.”
No. I meant that you should ask your friend that question.
“Oh.” Cooper thought for a moment. “Could you repeat it?”
Chaz started to speak, but Cooper shut him up with a look.
How did you know about Glittersprinkles Grove or the faefolk who live there?
Cooper nodded. “How did I know about Glittersprinkles Grove or the faefolk who live there?” He put his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows at Chaz, confident that Nabi had given him a profound argument, even if he was still trying to figure out its relevance for himself.
As if he'd cast a magic spell, the argument served at least to shut Chaz up for a bit.
After a moment of thought, Chaz slowly nodded. “Okay. I believe you.”
“Was that that good of an argument?”
“It had some merit,” said Chaz. “But what really convinced me is the fact that you were able to make an intelligent-sounding argument at all.”
Cooper was pretty sure that was an insult, but he was prepared to let it slide. “Now will you please stop bitching?”
“Just because I believe you doesn't mean I think it's a good idea.”
For fuck's sake. Cooper started to reach for the Decanter of Endless Water.
“Wait,” said Chaz. “Hear me out. I'm still a bard without an instrument, and you're still a low-level barbarian, about to charge into a forest full of ghosts. We've got friends who might be in trouble, or who might be out looking for us. What if we passed the axe – sorry, Nabi – to someone else?”
“She chose me.”
“She chose wrong!”
That might have stung if said by someone Cooper gave a shit about. But coming from Chaz, it was less like a dagger in the heart, and more like a splinter in the ass. The argument was starting to loop around again. It was time to stop the train and see who was getting off.
“Look, dude,” said Cooper. “Nabi has helped me, and I'm going to help her. I'm not going to think any less of you if you choose to go your own way. Hell, I'm not going to think of you at all. But if you choose to come with me, I don't want to hear another fucking word about it.”
A spot of darkness stood out against the pristine blue sky just above the horizon. When it grew large enough to take on a recognizable form, it squawked to announce its arrival. Great. As soon as he gets one to shut up, the other one starts in. It was like they were tag-teaming annoyance.
Ravenus flapped his big goofy wings until he landed on the ground, squawking excitedly.
“He says he found it,” said Chaz. “Glittersprinkles Grove is about a half day's walk from here.”
Cooper nodded. “We'll go on a little further and find a place to spend the night. When I leave tomorrow, you can choose to follow me or not.”
Chapter 14
“I'm very sorry, sir, but we cannot allow a basilisk to board a passenger vessel. There simply isn't enough room. Besides, eyes or no eyes, it's still a ferocious man-eating monster. That would make the other passengers very uncomfortable.”
“But Basil's real friendly once you get to know him,” said Randy. “I'd keep a real close eye on him.”
When they'd first started talking to the deckhand of The Maiden's Voyage, he set of Randy's gaydar, and Randy was picking up strong signals of attraction. He thought he might use that to his advantage, and have better luck with him than he'd had with the previous six deckhands and ships' captains who'd flat out refused him once he brought up Basil. The signals were now beginning to feel more like annoyance than attraction.
Randy didn't want to let Kat
herine down, but neither did he want to abandon Basil. He had one last card to play. “Would it help if I told you I was a paladin of the New God?”
The deckhand rolled his eyes and sighed. “If I allowed a basilisk aboard this ship, Captain Longfellow would chop both it and me to pieces and chum the water with us. Even if you were the New God himself, I'd rather face his wrath than the captain's. Now please move along, sir.”
His sharp tone stung. Randy lowered his head. “I apologize for wasting your time.”
“Alexei!” shouted a gruff voice from the deck of the ship. “You semen-guzzling shit-for-brains arse fucker. I don't pay you to jerk off dockworkers. Get yer cockworn ass up here and secure the cargo hold.”
The deckhand, Alexei, stood alert. “What about the shipment from Captain Fry?”
“We just received word from the Falcon. It's caught in a storm. Now question me again, lad, and I'll give you a cock slappin' I guarantee you won't enjoy.”
“Yes, sir!” Alexei said as he ran nimbly up the thin plank connecting the ship to the pier.
Randy decided he didn't want to sail with a captain like that anyway and started back down the pier, dreading the look on Katherine's face when he came back empty-handed again.
Halfway to the shore, he heard footsteps running hard and fast on the boards behind him.
“Hey! Wait!” It was Alexei's voice.
Randy turned around. Sure enough, the deckhand was running after him and waving his arms. When he saw Randy had stopped, he slowed to a jog and caught his breath.
“Captain Longfellow wants a word with you.”
“With me?” asked Randy. “Why does he want –” He thought back on all the horrible derogatory remarks the captain had hurled at Alexei. “Well you can tell Captain Longfellow that I don't like his words.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don't like the way he talked to you, those names he called you. It was disrespectful.”
“He talks like that to everyone. It's just the way he is. Have you never been aboard a ship before?”
“I... but...”
“I told him about your basilisk problem. He's intrigued.”
Randy temporarily shelved his thoughts of Captain Longfellow, deeming Katherine's quest more important. “All right, let's go.”
Alexei led Randy back down the pier, then bounded across the plank as sure-footed as a tightrope walker on an eight-lane highway.
Randy paused before stepping onto the plank, wondering why he wasn't terrified. No vertigo or queasiness or nothing. Maybe it was because he knew the fall wouldn't be fatal, but he was sure that wouldn't have mattered before. He just plain didn't like heights, and here he was walking on a foot-wide wooden board fifteen feet above the water. He should have been peeing himself. But strangely enough, he wasn't afraid at all. He actually took some pleasure in the bounce the board put in his step as it bent under his weight.
The Maiden's Voyage wasn't the biggest ship in the harbor, but Randy guessed it could comfortably accommodate fifty passengers, or uncomfortably accommodate a hundred.
“Captain's up there,” said Alexei, nodding to the top of what looked like a small tower standing above the passengers' quarters. A rope and wood ladder hung from the top of the rearmost passengers' quarters, and a narrow staircase rose steeply up and around the structure from which the captain could survey the sea around him in every direction.
“Are you coming?” asked Randy.
“Aye. I vouched for you. Until the captain welcomes you aboard himself, any trouble you cause on this ship puts my balls on the chopping block.”
Randy nodded. “I appreciate that. I ain't here to cause trouble.”
“That remains to be seen. Now up the ladder with you.”
While Randy climbed the ladder with what he thought was adequate climbing skill and speed, Alexei put him to shame. He leaped on top of a barrel, jumped straight up to catch the edge of the roof, then pulled himself up with the effortless grace of an acrobat, and all in plenty of time to offer a hand down to help Randy the rest of the way up.
“I've got it just fine, thank you,” said Randy, pulling himself onto the roof of the passengers' quarters considerably less gracefully. “You gonna cartwheel up the stairs now?”
“Nah, we'll just walk normal like.” Alexei led the way. “I apologize for being short with you earlier. I never thought Captain Longfellow would allow a basilisk aboard his ship. Lucky for you, his regular cargo has been delayed, and he's in a bit of a bind. I still can't believe he's considering this. I've never seen a real basilisk before.”
“It's quite a thing to behold, that's for sure.”
“I've no doubt.” When Alexei reached the top of the stairs, he held his hand out for Randy to remain a couple of steps down, then opened the door. “Permission to enter the Captain's Roost.”
“Get yer cock scabbards in here and close the door behind ye,” said the captain from inside.
Alexei gave a short bow, then stood back and held the door open wider for Randy. “After you.”
The Captain's Roost smelled like salt and old fish. It was about half the length of the ship, and a quarter of the width. Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with dusty exotic trinkets, presumably collected during a lifetime of trading at different ports all around the world. A long table ran down the center of the roost, covered in maps, charts, and dagger marks.
At the far end of the table stood Captain Longfellow himself, proud and tall, his milky grey eyes peering at Randy from the shadow of his impressive captain's hat. He might have been as young as thirty-five or as old as sixty, depending how how much a life at sea had contributed to the sun-scorched wrinkles on his face and hands and the grey streaks in his grizzled beard.
“Yon cockswallower tells me ye wish to bring a basilisk aboard me ship.”
“First of all, I don't appreciate you calling him that.”
The captain's grizzled beard pointed at Randy as he rubbed under his chin. “He be a basilisk, don't he? What would you prefer me to call him, a bleedin' hedgehog?”
“I mean Alexei. I don't like that word you called him.”
“A cockswallower?” said the captain. “As in one who swallows cock?” He looked at Alexei. “Tell me, lad. Am I mistaken? Or do ye not do a fine job of swallowing cock?”
“It's kind of you to say, sir.”
“Thank the gods. And here I thought I'd lost me salted mind.”
“I'm sorry,” said Randy, feeling slightly confused. “I thought –”
The captain thrust an open hand out at Randy, paralyzing him. “Now did ye come here to lecture me on how to address me crew, or did ye have some matters of business to propose?” He wiggled the tip of his middle finger, and Randy found that he was able to move his mouth.
“I came to propose a matter of business.”
“Very good.” The captain's gaze shifted to something just above and beyond Randy. He nodded. A second later, Randy felt something furry jump onto his head and grab his ears. He suspected it was a monkey. Some monkey-like screams in his ear lent strength to that suspicion.
“Lord Shitflinger knows a fib when he hears one,” said Captain Longfellow. “Tell me no tales, and ye have nothing to fear.”
“I know no fear, for I am strong with the Lord, Jesus Christ.” The words just slipped out of him. He supposed that must account for his sudden lack of acrophobia. “As a beacon of His name, I can neither tell a lie, nor can I attempt to deceive by withholding truths.”
Captain Longfellow thought for a moment, then lowered his hand, releasing Randy from his paralysis. “Aye. That makes things easier.” He snapped his fingers, and Lord Shitflinger ran across the table on his little monkey hands and feet, then leaped onto the captain's shoulder. The captain produced a purple grape from his pocket and held it up for the monkey, who greedily shoved it into his mouth. The captain motioned to Randy. “Have a seat.”
Randy sat down on a stool near the middle of the table. “Thank you.
”
The captain took a seat at the head of the table. “Now what in the blazes do ye need to be transporting a living bloody basilisk for?”
“Basil has no eyes. He needs me to look after him. And I need to accompany my friend on a mission she has overseas.”
“Oh, a ladyfriend? And here I'd had you pegged as a knob gobblin' sperm tank.”
“I am a homosexual.”
Captain Longfellow's face wrinkled up like an old man's scrotum. “And what in the Seven Hells does that mean?”
Randy supposed that term might not have been coined here. Rather than stretch out this part of the conversation any more than he had to, he opted to use the term the captain was obviously familiar with. “I'm a knob gobblin' sperm tank.”
“Aye, ye'll find yourself in good company here.” Captain Longfellow flattened out the rolled up sides of a map, spreading it wide across the table. “Now, what be your intended final destination?”
“We're trying to get to a place called Nazere.”
The captain's eyes widened. “Oh, is that all?” He looked up at Alexei. “Do ye hear that, lad? Just a quick trip to Nazere. Won't that be nice?”
Randy frowned at the obvious sarcasm. “I take it there's a problem?”
“Too fuckin' right there's a problem, matey!”
“Well, if you're afraid, I suppose I'll have to take my business elsewhere.” Randy stood up.
The captain leaned back and showed off his collection of gold and silver teeth. “That's a good try, son. Challenge my courage to my face in front of me first mate. I've stabbed men for less.”
Randy glanced back. Alexei was standing conspicuously in front of the doorway, arms crossed with a stoic look on his face. Randy suddenly felt bad for what he'd said, and hoped Alexei wouldn't suffer any repercussions for Randy's rude behavior.
“I apologize, sir. I meant no offense.”
Captain Longfellow stood up and gave Randy a cold hard glare. “Would you call a man craven for refusing to put his meat harpoon in a dire shark's mouth if his friends dared him to do it?”
Randy shook his head. “I would not.”
