by Robert Bevan
“It's a lute case,” he said appreciatively.
“You said your last lute broke. I thought this might help you take better care of your new one.”
“That's very thoughtful of you. When I acquire a new lute, I shall keep it safe in here.”
Dimplethorn rolled her eyes. “Open the box, stupid.”
Chaz undid the clasp holding the case shut, then opened the lid. While the case was hastily finger-painted by a bunch of kids, the instrument itself was an exquisitely tasteful mix of art and nature. Like the support arches keeping this bunker from caving in on them, the lute appeared to be made of living wood.
Inspecting it more closely as he carefully lifted it out of its case, Chaz saw that even the strings gleaned with the green sheen of living wood. They were pleasantly firm and responsive as he strummed, filling the room with strong, pure notes.
He looked up at Dimplethorn. “How does a thing like this exist?”
“Many of our elders are skilled craftsmen, and feyfolk are very fond of music. They applied their knowledge and scaled up their efforts to account for your size. Then the elder druids enchanted the lute as I requested. None of them believed in you as I did, and I had to consume much elder seed to have this made.”
“Oh wow,” said Chaz. “You shouldn't have done that. Honestly, you really shouldn't have.”
Dimplethorn frowned. “Yes. Elder seed is most bitter.” Then her eyes lit up as she flew closer to him. “But I think you'll find it was worth it. There is magic in the lute. For every ten minutes you play, you can work a Suggestion spell into the music.”
“Useful. I can see how that would be worth gulping down gallons of expired pixie jizz.”
“I'm so happy you like it!”
Chaz placed the lute back into its case. As delighted as Dimplethorn seemed to have gone to such lengths to have this gift made for him, he felt bad about accepting it. But he knew that not accepting it would mean that she'd blown a bunch of geriatrics for nothing.
“Thank you,” he said as non-awkwardly as he could. “I'll always cherish this.”
“You'll play us a song before you leave, won't you?”
Chaz closed the case, picked it up, and backed toward the doorway. “Of course. I'm just going to need a few minutes alone to get a feel for the strings.”
Dimplethorn smiled. “I'll see you on the surface.”
Chaz nodded, then hurried back up the tunnel and into the woods in search of a private place where he could empty his balls.
Chapter 51
The monotonous task of bailing out a ship with cracks in the hull proved therapeutic for Randy. He didn't blame Katherine for Basil's death. As much as he'd wanted to right after the fact, he couldn't even bring himself to take the blame. He could have done things differently. He could have left Basil on that island, and he might have done that and stayed there with him if things hadn't been happening so fast. But he knew that whatever mistakes he'd made were just that, mistakes. He'd done his best to take care of Basil, but his best hadn't been good enough. As he picked up the Bag of Holding, which Denise had tossed down to him from the deck, Randy prayed that Basil was in a better place.
“I reckon we can take a break,” Denise called down to him. “Now that we know we can bail it faster than it can fill up, we might as well let some water accumulate.”
“You go ahead,” said Randy, happy to have the work to occupy his mind. “I'm gonna keep going.”
“We been at this all night, Randy. And all the while that lazy tree-huggin' bitch and her wolf have been sleeping. You ever notice this whole trip seems to be about her? She puts our lives at risk to save her good-for-nothing brother. She runs off and leaves Basil for dead to save her precious boat. Dumb bitch is gonna get us all killed, mark my words. She's spent a couple of days on a boat, same as us, and thinks she knows everything there is to know about sailing now? That sound right to you?”
“Maybe she's a quick learner.”
“Don't nobody learn nothin' that quick.” Denise leaned in, poked her head down into the cargo hold, and spoke in a low voice. “I tell you what, Randy. When a week passes with no sign of land, and the hunger really starts to set in, I reckon she's the first to go.”
Randy was going to voice his objection, but Katherine spoke up before he could get a word out.
“Good morning.”
Denise jerked her head up and slammed it hard against the cargo door. “Son of a... Fuck!”
“Sorry,” said Katherine. “I didn't mean to interrupt. What were you guys talking about?”
“Um...” Denise rubbed the back of her head as she pulled out from the cargo hold. “Gilligan's Island. Like, what if they never made it to the island, and they was all just stranded out on that boat? Which one should they eat first? I chose Mary Ann. Stupid bitch has it coming if you ask me.”
That was a decent attempt at a save, depending on how much Katherine had heard before making herself known.
Katherine cranked the cargo door open wider until she could see Randy. Randy was shocked to see how light it was outside. Had they really worked the whole night through?
“Who did you choose?” Katherine asked Randy.
“I ain't given it much thought, to be honest. Maybe Gilligan?”
Katherine sat on the deck, letting her feet dangle down into the cargo hold. “That's interesting. Why Gilligan?”
Randy shrugged. “This whole line of thinking is pretty gross. I ain't got nothin' against Gilligan, and I don't want nobody to eat nobody. But if I had to choose, he seems like the most ethical choice.”
“More than the Howells? They've lived the longest and most privileged lives.”
“That ain't no reason to eat them,” said Randy. “I reckon that whatever happened that got them all lost, it was most likely Gilligan's fault. And he'll probably keep on screwing things up, as he tends to do. The longer he stays alive, the more people will eventually have to be eaten.”
Katherine nodded. “I can see some logic in that. It's odd that neither of you chose the Skipper. The rest of the gang could survive for weeks on his fat ass.”
“That's crazy,” said Denise. “He's the only one who knows how to navigate the goddamn boat.”
“Hmm... You make a good point. It seems then that the rest of the crew would do well to shut the fuck up and do what the Skipper tells them to do, so that everyone can get back to land as safely and quickly as possible.”
Randy wasn't certain, but he felt there may have been some subtext in that.
“I might change mine to Ginger,” said Denise. “She thinks she's such hot shit. See how hot she looks with them titties chewed off.”
Katherine sighed. “Okay then. That's enough of that. I've collected a few scraps of wood I think I can seal the rest of the breach with, but I won't be able to hold them in place from the inside while all that water's gushing through. I need you two to lower me down on a rope so that I can plug the cracks from the outside.”
That seemed unnecessarily risky to Randy. “Why don't you just use that spell you done when you was climbin' all over the side of the boat before?”
“I'll use it if you two somehow manage to fuck up the task of holding a rope, but I'd rather keep it in case I need it later.”
“Good idea.” Randy waded toward the cargo door, his exhaustion now catching up to him. Half the water he was wading through might have been his own sweat. He was actually looking forward to getting out on the deck and letting the sun dry his clothes.
Katherine tossed a loop of thick rope down to him. “You're going to be the anchor. Put this around you and keep your eye on the breach from inside.”
So much for drying off in the sun. Randy held the loop open and stepped into it like a pair of pants. He pulled the loop up to his waist and slid the knot toward him until it was snug. He looked up at Katherine. “That's a nice knot.”
“I know, right? I swear I didn't know how to tie that yesterday.” She secured herself in the loop on the other end of the ro
pe, then handed the middle coil to Denise. “You're the relay. You keep me held steady and pass messages back between me and Randy.”
“I know what a fuckin' relay is. Let's get this thing done.”
While he waited for either a relayed message from Denise or something to happen from Katherine's end on the other side of the hull, Randy opened the Bag of Holding and drained out as much water as he could so that the breach was visible. Water sprayed in through the thin cracks. The pressure was so great that the water was painful to touch. Randy agreed with Katherine's assessment that it would have been impossible to plug the holes from inside.
After a few minutes of watching the water spray in, the spray patterns changed. Randy could hear a faint banging sound from outside. Katherine was trying to hammer in ill-fitting pieces of wood to close the gaps. It wasn't working. No less water was getting in the boat, it was just coming in at different angles.
Randy was disheartened by Katherine's effort, and a little bit embarrassed for her. She'd seemed so confident in her ability to fix the problem, but this was a Kindergarten-level solution. He supposed it was good that she hadn't wasted that spell at least.
But now they were back to being stranded at sea. If it really did come down to having to eat each other, Randy thought he might simply take his own life. Sure, suicide was generally considered a sin, but if it was done to keep other people from having to choose which person they was going to kill and eat first, then he figured Jesus would understand.
After all, he'd given his life so that we all might –
“The heck?”
The water stopped gushing in as suddenly as if someone had turned off a faucet. The breach was completely sealed. Those pieces of wood Katherine had forced in had warped somehow, expanding to fit the gaps exactly.
“Hey Randy!” Denise shouted from up on the deck. “She wants to know if it worked!”
“Yes!” cried Randy. “I don't know how, but she did it! He started pulling the rope. “Reel her in. This one's a keeper!”
Katherine boarded her ship once more and ordered Denise down into the cargo hold to help Randy sweep the rest of the water into the Bag of Holding. She complied with zero fuss.
“I am none too pleased at the way she thinks she can boss us around like this.” Denise voiced her opinions extra low and repeatedly glanced up at the cargo door to make sure Katherine wasn't peeking in on them. “So she fixed a hole in a boat. Big fuckin' deal. That don't give her the right to treat us like slaves, makin' us do all the work while she struts around on the deck like some kind of Panamanian drug runner's wife. You given any more thought to what I asked you about before? About when the hunger sets in?”
Randy shrugged. “Y'all both made good enough points, but I reckon I'm gonna stick with Gilligan.”
Denise's eyes went wide with terror. She glanced back at the cargo door. When she turned back to Randy, her eyes had their usual look of annoyance again.
“Goddammit, Randy. I'm talking about us. Who knows how long we're gonna have to wait out her before another ship passes by to rescue us? There's only so long we'll be able to survive on them shriveled up rat corpses. Sooner or later, we're gonna have to make a hard decision, if you catch my meaning. When the time comes, I got to know if you're gonna have my – Whooo!” Denise fell on her ass into a puddle as the ship jerked forward.
Randy managed to keep his balance and steady himself. “Are we... moving?” He splashed some puddles as he ran toward the cargo ramp. When he got to the deck, he found all the sails open and full of wind. He looked over the railing to see water rushing toward the rear of the ship. They were really moving. Katherine actually seemed to know how to sail.
“Katherine?” Randy called out when he couldn't find her.
“Uh heee!” Katherine's voice was coming from above, but it sounded like she was gagged.
Randy looked up and found her hanging upside down with her legs twisted up in the rigging. She had the end of a rope in her mouth, the other end of which was attached to a small black triangular sail.
“You all right?”
Katherine finished fiddling with whatever she was fiddling with, then took the rope out of her mouth to tie it to the whatever. She smiled down at Randy. “Not too shabby, huh?”
“Well I'll be a motherfucker,” said Denise, joining Randy on deck. She frowned up at Katherine. “How the fuck did you learn how to sail in a goddamn ice prison?”
Katherine crawled halfway down the mainmast like a squirrel, then hopped down the rest of the way, landing confidently on her feet. “I must have leveled up. The way I understand it, you get more abilities and skills when your character reaches a higher level. I must have gotten the Sailing skill or something.”
“And just what in the hell did you do to reach a higher level?”
“I don't know. Maybe we got a bunch of Experience Points for killing the Ice Queen. She was kind of a badass.”
“I killed the Ice Queen,” said Denise. “Y'all ain't done shit.”
Katherine shrugged. “I guess the game decided it was a team effort.”
“Bullshit! It was my idea to feed that potion to Basil. And it was me who carried it up my asshole that whole time.”
“I meant to ask you about that.” Katherine cocked her head sideways and narrowed her eyes at Denise. “That demonstrated a lot more foresight than I believe you're capable of.”
“Thank you.”
“Why did you have that potion up your ass?”
“I –”
“And don't even bother trying to tell me it was part of your plan to take down the Ice Queen all along.”
Denise scowled as she mentally revised her answer.
Katherine's expression grew more impatient. “Tell me the truth, or you'll spend the rest of this trip in the cargo hold.”
Denise sighed. “Fine. I swiped it from them cannibals on the foggy island. I thought I might be able to use it if we ever got back to Earth. Maybe I could grow my nuts back, you know?”
“That's a perfectly valid reason,” said Katherine. “I'm honestly really impressed that you thought of it. Why would you feel compelled to lie about that?”
Denise shrugged. “I don't know. I guess I just ain't comfortable talkin' bout my missin' nuts in front of a lady and a faggot.” She looked up at Randy as if shocked by her own words. “I'm sorry, queer.”
Randy wasn't sure how that was supposed to be any better, considering the context, but she sounded sincere enough.
“I'll keep an eye on the horizon,” said Katherine. “You two get some rest. You've earned it.”
Randy and Denise stretched out on the benches that ran along the walls at the ship's rear and took in some sun.
“Hey Denise?” said Randy.
“Yeah?”
“What happened at the end of that Frizzles movie? I mean with the townsfolk and all that. Did they ever come to accept her?”
“Oh yeah, right away. It was like they never gave a shit about her ice powers in the first place. She made it snow in the summer, and everyone thought she was the fuckin' tits.”
“Then why did the king and queen lock her in a room?”
Denise shrugged. “Shitty parenting, I reckon. She would have been way less fucked-up if they'd died a lot earlier.”
It was sad to think about, but she might have been right. Then again, it was possible that Denise wasn't giving the most faithful a synopsis of the story. Randy decided to reserve his judgment on that until he was able to see the movie for himself.
“Hey Denise?”
“Jesus Christ, Randy. I'm trying to get some fuckin' sleep.”
“I appreciate you using up that potion to save our lives. I know how much you miss having testicles.”
“It ain't nothing to get all weepy over. There's more potions where that came from.”
That was true. When they figured out a way to get back home and in their proper bodies, Randy and Denise could take another trip with Captain Longfellow. Randy could
say a proper goodbye to Alexei, and Denise could get another one of those potions. Randy drifted off to sleep with renewed hope that someday, somehow, everything was going to be all right.
Chapter 52
“I never thought I'd be this happy to get back to this city,” said Julian as he and Stacy rode through the northern gate of Cardinia and into the crowded, bustling streets. “It's kind of scary how much this place is starting to feel like home.”
“I'm just happy to be out of those goddamn mountains.” Stacy scanned up and down the main street hoping to see a food vendor. They'd managed to scrounge enough to keep themselves alive, but she longed for some properly prepared food. It didn't have to be gourmet. Hell, it didn't even have to be good. Some of Goosewaddle's Arby's would even go down nicely right now. She could tear into that shit.
“Do you think Magra intentionally sent us down the wrong path?” asked Julian.
“Nah. I think she's just genuinely terrible with directions. Getting lost was how she got captured by those Tamarian freaks in the first place, remember?”
“There sure were a lot of trolls in those mountains.”
“Lucky for us they're pretty stupid and they've really got a taste for horsemeat.”
Julian frowned down at the horse he was riding. “I feel really bad about that.”
Stacy gave him a friendly punch on the arm. “You did what you had to do. They're in a better place now.”
“Sometimes I think that when I die I'll have to answer for all of these horses whose lives were cut short prematurely because of me.”
“You think God's a brony?”
Julian gasped. His eyes widened.
“Jesus, Julian,” said Stacy. “Relax. That wasn't a serious suggestion. I'm not even sure if I believe that God exists... or bronies for that matter.”
“No, it's not that!”
Stacy had seen that look on his face one time before. “Is it Ravenus?”
Julian nodded. “He must have made it back to the Whore's Head.” The excitement faded from his eyes and voice. “Now that I know he's okay, I feel bad for not having been more concerned about Cooper and... Shit, what's that other guy's name?”
