by Aaron Crash
“I got the blues in my soul, Johnny.”
The overweight centaur ripped more into my arm and my spirit. “That’s a new name for me. I don’t get it.”
“Back on my world, Johnny Cash was the man in black, one of the greatest musicians of all time.” I noticed the centaur tattoo artist was being careful to work around my existing hurricane circle. He wasn’t leaving the diamond-shaped spaces that Figg had. There was no need, and we’d told him that. The brands wouldn’t work on me.
The giantess barmaid threw up her hands. “I’ll bring the girl back here. You all are obviously too drunk to answer a simple fucking question.”
“Not too drunk to kiss a giant!” Rhee followed the barmaid to get the guard. The elf returned holding one of Broomhelga’s huge hands.
The woman was in her leather armor, and yet, I noticed she’d fixed her hair, washed her face, and even braided the hairs on her tail.
The giant woman saw what was happening to me. She set her spear against the wall. “Why, this is all interesting. That’s concentration ink. This is not a good idea. You should only be getting the magical ink through a licensed university. We have one, near the Lore Factories, our own Arquius College of Magic and Husbandry. Not the Dvey Institute of Higher Learning. That was the old name.”
Cash paused to gulp his beer. He wrinkled his nose at Big Red. “It’s a lot of rupas, and it might be good for a young horse looking for their destiny, but this Axel is a horse of a different color. You’re Broom, aren’t you?”
Rhee danced over, grabbed a tankard of beer, and brought it back to the guard. “Broom? I love it. I’m Rhee, in case you forgot, though I think I told you I’m Rhonda. Such a fucking lie. That’s Figg. What was your fake name?”
My summoner wasn’t amused. “Francine. Yes, I’m Figg. Is there going to be a problem, Broom?”
“Wait,” I said. “Your name is Broom?”
The giantess took the beer from Rhee and held it awkwardly. “I sweep all the girls off their feet. Not that I like girls. I like men. That means I like Wynnym men and their large pingas. And I like their colored skirts as well. My eyes are drawn to pretty things. And pingas. And such.”
Cash laughed. “Ah, Broom, I’ve heard of you. You’re smart, a mighty warrior, and you take the laws of this city seriously. And yes, you never seek out women during your time.”
I wondered what that meant. Your time?
Broom clearly liked the compliment. She seemed to take it seriously and ignored the fact that it had been dipped in caustic humor and lightly grilled on sarcasm coals.
It was sweet of her. And it was sweet how she let Rhee scoot close, even if Rhee was a liar, a pretty liar. The two talked, Figg smoked, and Cash tattooed. It was getting later and later outside, and I started to worry about Dryx. I didn’t want her fighting the Gurgaloids alone. Also, I needed another nuna seed. The burning was affecting me, and I was still a human. This was a problem I didn’t want to let grow out of control. Lastly, we needed a place to stay the night.
“So, Cash, can you get us into the Crazy Flower? We’ll need to sleep somewhere.”
Broom snorted. “That’s a sex place. You go to the Crazy Flower for sex. This is so embarrassing to even be talking about the Crazy Flower. Oh my beans.”
Rhee looked on the giant woman with complete adoration. “You like beans?”
Broom shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Ficco beans are cheap, but really, it’s just what I say. Beans! I try not to curse. The Great Shepherd likes for us to be good. I try and be good.”
So Dryx had the Gardener, and Broom had the Shepherd, while the rest of Xid seemed to worship the seven angels. Got it.
Rhee couldn’t help but needle Big Red. “You try and be good except when it’s your time.” The elf grabbed Broom’s arm before the blushing giantess could respond. “I love how big you are, Broom! I love this woman!”
The red-haired woman leaned against Rhee. “You might be a liar, Rhonda, or Rhee, or whatever your name is, but I don’t mind as much when folks are friendly to me. Not that I need a friend. I have a ton of friends in the city guard. A ton. You met Ludmilla.”
Figg smoked impatiently, keeping her lips closed in an angry line. She could’ve easily thrown that frustration at the giantess. It was clear that Broom had come here looking for friends, and I was glad Rhee was stepping up.
Cash gave me a knowing look. It said everything. People in Sweetleaf didn’t think too much of Broomhelga Hurroom.
The centaur changed the subject. “I think I would like Johnny Cash. I’ll send a wife over to the Crazy Flower. I can get you a room, but Broom is right. It’s a brothel.”
“I live in a brothel,” I said with a smile. “It’s empty, possibly haunted, but it was a brothel.”
“The Scarlet Baths,” Cash said. “My great-grandfather talked about that, back when Foulwater was known as Kaccarra Ank. It was a good place, for a bath, for some love. There was some good trade between Sweetleaf and Foulwater.”
I was about to say something when the wide window on the far wall shattered inward, throwing glass. In flew a creature, startling me. You’d think I’d be getting used to the strange things on Caranja.
I was given my first view of a Gurgaloid, which looked a whole lot like a gargoyle to me. It took a minute for me to understand why they were called Gurgaloids.
Chapter Eighteen
THE GURGALOID STANDING in the back room of Cash’s bar was made of stone. At least the flesh looked like stone, though the rock was cracked in places, covered with yellow pus and reddish-black scabs. With all that rock, it would be too heavy to fly, but this thing was too ugly to take physics seriously. Its wings were connected to its huge arms, and instead of hands, it had sharp hooks made of steel. The Gurgaloid was naked and sexless, which probably meant it got a lot of work done on the weekends.
Its muscled rock legs ended in huge hand-like feet tipped with claws. Those monkey feet didn’t have your typical five little piggies. There were seven claws there. It probably needed so many piggies to keep it upright. It was eight feet tall and weighed as much as a quarry.
Blood oozed out of the nightmare mouth of the Gurgaloid in front of us. Either it had killed that night, or it drooled blood. The thing had the pinched demonic face of a Bali demon statue. Flames curled out of its eyes.
Goremouth stood there alone, just enough to shock us, and then its buddies followed. All of them were exactly the same except only the first one had gore on his chin. All of them opened their mouths and made a gurgling, gargling sound, wet and echoing.
Cash cursed and tried to get to his hooves, but he tipped over and fell. He grabbed hold of a handle on the wall and shot me a foul look. “You. The Gurgaloids don’t come inside. They don’t break windows. They came for you.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. And I didn’t know if the tattoo was done or not. It didn’t feel like it, since my insides still churned like a lava pit. I did know that I could try and make amends by killing as many of the monsters as I possibly could.
Goremouth confirmed Cash’s suspicions. The monster pointed a hooked wing tip at me. The flames spouting from its eyes lengthened.
Another Gurgaloid made the gargling sound in the back of its throat. Freezing water full of long icicles like throwing knives gushed out. Was that water or stomach acid? There were certain things I didn’t want to think about.
I hurled myself off the chair and flung out a hand. “Agnaat injit!” A wall of flames burst in front of me and Cash. The water and ice hit my shield, and steam poured off.
Broom had a spear you could roast a full-grown male buffalo on. She grabbed that bison-killer and her shield and hurled herself into action. She tried to stab one of the stone monsters, but her spearhead bounced off a rocky arm in a flash of sparks. She’d missed piercing one of the scabby cracks on its stone skin.
The thing grabbed her, spun around on its wings, and hauled her outside.
The other Gurgaloids opened their mouths in
unison to spray us with water and spikes. We had a Vanka sorceress with us, and she wasn’t going to let anything hurt us with water. She used their own liquid against them, taking control of the crystalline fluid. She threw them out of the room and then sealed the wall shut with a layer of ice.
I stumbled over and snatched up the Calcifax staff. “Broom is out there, and her spear didn’t do shit against that gargoyle.”
Rhee was too drunk to fight. “What’s a gargoyle?”
“Ugh,” I grumbled and opened a hole in the wall, moving the stone aside. Outside, we were in an alleyway. At the end of the alley were bridges on either side that spanned the canals running parallel to Cash’s place. The next building was just a wall of soot-covered stone. Flickering Agni torches gave us light.
Broom was smashing her spear against the beasts, keeping them back, but her face was bleeding and she was soaked. An icicle had pierced the armor on her chest.
A Gurgaloid flew over her and tore a chunk out of her shoulder.
I thought about shifting into a Homo Draconis or my True Form, but that would tear my guts open. Whatever the ink had done, it wasn’t fixing my insides.
But I could fight just as well as a human. I swung the stone staff and crushed the head of one of the stone monsters. It shattered, bloodless, like I’d just broken a statue. However, from its throat hole, water gushed upward in a fountain.
“Agnaat injit!” I called again, covering myself in flame armor. Around me, the Gurgaloids were flapping their wings, rising higher. One tried to claw me, but then shied away as its foot-hand got scorched. So they were stone, but they weren’t exactly fireproof.
One creature opened its flaming eyes wide. A gush of fire came sweeping down at me.
Figg shouted, “Vankaat injit!” The flames struck her ice shield. I probably could’ve taken the fire, since as a dragon I was partially fireproof, but I was glad I didn’t have to risk it.
Goremouth dove down and slammed Figg against the wall. From the crush of his stone shoulder on her chest, and the hard wall hitting her head, she sank to the ground, dazed and hurt. My summoner’s ice shield disappeared, and I had to leap away from the flames.
These things were made of stone, could fly on supernatural wind, could spit like a hose, and had flaming eyes. The Gurgaloids had all four of the elemental bases covered.
Rhee had her bow and a quiver of the red arrows. She laid a crimson shaft on her string. A purple light, almost like a mist, surrounded the arrowhead. She let it fly. The missile blew through the heart of a Gurgaloid, reducing his chest to a molten crater.
More of the winged stone monsters were coming though, dozens upon dozens. I summoned up a big chunk of rock from the street and hurled it into one of the gargoyles, taking its head off. This time, the rock exploded in fire, and yes, the body gushed water even as it fell into the canal with a splash.
Alarm bells were ringing. Footsteps clattered nearby along with the bang of armor. Help was on the way, but with how many Gurgaloids there were, the help wouldn’t arrive in time. Rhee fired arrow after arrow. Figg was trying to get to her feet, and Broom was fighting for her life. Several Gurgaloids were trying to latch onto the giantess, to pull her off the bricks. They probably wanted to yank her up and let her fall. The impact would kill her.
Not if I could help it.
Goremouth flew in front of me and let out a spray of water and frozen spikes that blew me back against the ice windows that Figg had created. My fire armor melted the icicles, but that torrent of water doused the rest of the flames and bashed me against the wall.
Dryx came soaring from the sky, the twin short swords in her hands. She’d already been fighting the Gurgaloids, and she was bloodstained, her clothes gashed.
The sky warrior opened her mouth and let out a shriek that hit the Gurgaloids descending upon me. That powerful scream deafened me, but it destroyed three of the gargoyles. One was reduced to dust. Another had a wing blown off before losing both an arm and a leg. The other’s belly broke open. Water gushed out while its head exploded in flame.
Then the flying knife collection hacked apart two more of the Gurgaloids, striking the cracks in their skin. You could sever their limbs like that, but you couldn’t miss.
Goremouth flew in close. It opened its big mouth to bite my head off with its big rock fangs. Those teeth came down on nothing. There was a loud clap and then Goremouth and the rest of the Gurgaloids were sent flying.
Figg was up, bringing lightning down from the heavens. That was a new ability. The electricity and the sudden attack by Dryx unnerved the monsters. They took to the skies.
And then giant lady soldiers flooded the area, coming from both sides of the bridges. Leading them were two palomino horse men, both with square jaws and white-yellow hair. They wore hauberks on their chests. Armored skirts covered their rumps in an intricate pattern of black and brown leather.
One threw something, a golden object with five prongs, like that Frisbee thing in the old Krull movie. Instead of blades on the end, the golden edges were dull. However, when the throwing weapon hit Dryx, she let out a shriek of pain and fell from the sky.
I threw myself forward, creating a wall under my feet with the stone staff. The ground rumbled, the rock squealed, and dust misted the alley. I rose higher and higher, angling my wall, until I could catch Dryx. She hit me like a ton of bricks, completely unconscious. I teetered off my wall and fell, but Broom was there. She didn’t so much catch us as break our fall.
Figg ran to me. “Did Cash finish your concentration ink? How do you feel?”
The truth was, I didn’t feel too good, and no, I don’t think he had.
One of the twin centaurs, the one who hadn’t thrown the five-pointed Frisbee, pulled Figg back and put his sword up to her throat. “You, all of you, are under arrest for crimes against Sweetleaf!”
I saw my chance and took it. “Yes, and we’re such criminals that you should demand we have an audience with the Stallion King.”
The centaur twins laughed like I’d said something funny. Figg was thrust back into me. Broom and Dryx were getting to their feet. We were surrounded. There was no fighting our way out.
Broom then joined the other soldiers at threatening us with her spear.
One of the centaur twins spoke. “Oh, you’ll have your time with the Stallion King. You brought in a demon woman, and you yourself are cavorting with known criminals. You’ll see the king. But I doubt you’ll survive the experience.”
“A demon woman?” I grinned. “Could you be more specific?”
I sincerely considered fighting my way out of there, killing the centaurs and any giant women who got close. However, we’d then have to fight our way into the palace. It would be better for us to get captured. That would get us into the castle. I’d deal with Jimmy once I got to him.
I got up, picked up the stone staff, and hurled it into the canal. They could take me. They wouldn’t get the staff. The stick was far too heavy to float away, so I’d be able to come back for it.
And I would survive the Stallion King. I couldn’t die, because my home away from home was in trouble, and saving Foulwater had kind of become my hobby.
Chapter Nineteen
I’D RATHER SLEEP IN a brothel than a jail cell, though to be honest, I’d never slept in an active whorehouse. I had slept in more than my fair share of jail cells. That came with fighting assholes.
Rhee, Figg, and I spent that night in your classic dungeon cell—a rock room with a solid iron door. Everything metal was rusted. We had a stinking hole in the floor for our business and some straw, though the straw was as smelly as everything else. The only light came from a torch that flickered outside in the hall. We were underneath the Stallion King’s castle in the western part of town.
Broom wasn’t with us. Neither was Dryx. That had me worried. If Jimmy the Stallion King was doing secret experiments on the Jataksha, he might even now be tearing the wings off my friend. Or replacing her cute feet with seven-fing
ered hands sporting sharp claws.
One of the palomino twins had referred to her as a demon woman. I thought he was referring to Dryx, but Rhee was famously slutty and Figg had the anger of a devil. That probably wasn’t the case, which meant Dryx’s life might not mean very much to them.
Goremouth had come for me, specifically. Cash might never forgive me for drawing the monsters into his bar.
The twin centaurs had confiscated our items.
Rhee spent the night snoring on my leg.
Figg tried spells, but whenever she tried to cast magic, runes on the door flashed, keeping both her sorcery and mine from working. It was powerful magic, and from what my summoner said, it was from Dvey’s time, ancient and hard to recreate.
I didn’t mind Rhee’s snores. They kept my mind off the burning pain in my stomach. I was pretty sure someone had poured week-old coffee and hydrochloric acid down my throat.
I petted Rhee’s hair and fiddled with the various things braided into her dirty blonde locks. Meanwhile, Figg went over my new tattoo, using the little light we had to check the design. The skin around the black designs was red but not oozy. That was good. I didn’t want to be oozy.
She’d thought it might need one more line. For that, we’d need ink. This explained why I wasn’t feeling too good.
We eked out some sleep. Figg and I woke first and spoke in low voices. Rhee woke just as we were wondering what time it was and when we’d be taken to see the Stallion King.
The pirate elf opened her mouth, licked her lips, and sighed. “I passed out around midnight. It’s eight o’clock in the morning.”
“How do you know?” Figg scowled.
Rhee winced. “I just count the throbs in my head. Works every time. Generally, they come and get you around ten.”
“This isn’t your first jail cell,” I said.
Rhee laughed, which caused much wincing. “Hardly. Drunk and disorderly gets you locked up. Even Eggero would have to throw me in the clink every now and again. What about you, Figg?”
