“Ugh. No more fermented anything for me, thanks. That red stuff . . . woof.”
“You had the red wine?” Mr. Keyne asked, stepping in.
“A bit more than I should have.”
“You shouldn’t have had any. It’s not safe for human consumption. Why, three cups was enough to put Heracles flat on his back.”
“Consider me flattened, too,” I moaned as I flopped against Bush. So warm, but I definitely need to breathe through my mouth again.
Mr. Keyne felt my forehead. “It could have killed you, Mistress Flores. I shall have a word with the house sprites.”
He stepped out just as Boo came to check on me, her face looking downtrodden and ashamed. “I am so sorry, mighty Conqueror of Burp. I should have warned you what was not safe.”
“It’s okay. It takes more than some berry juice to fell Burp Girl,” I said with a weak smile.
She smiled back, then began rummaging in her pockets. A moment later she produced a rough-carved wooden leaf on a string. “Floof and I made this for you while you were sick.”
“Why, thank you,” I said as I let Boo tie it around my neck. “It’s very pretty.”
“It is the leaf of life,” Boo said, nodding. “It will protect and bring you good luck.”
Good luck? I could definitely use some of that. “I’ll wear it always.”
“Good. You may need it when the times comes.” Before I could ask what she meant by that, Boo let out a big yawn. “Sorry. This body grows weary. I must return to my roots. Good night.” And with that, the littlest dryad vanished into the night.
I looked up to Bush. “Am I missing something?”
She shrugged, then picked me up as if I weighed nothing and began to rock me back and forth. “Rest now. Good for sick.”
I laughed weakly, enjoying the fact that the gentle motion seemed to be soothing my stomach. “Do you still do this for your cub?”
Now it was Bush’s turn to laugh. “Cub too big. Soon not cub anymore.” Bush looked wistfully at the fire. “When Bush comfort him, he complain that he great warrior like father. But he not, not here.” She lifted a hand and touched it to her chest, then sighed. “One day, he find his way. Bush know this in heart.”
“You sound like you love him very much.”
Bush nodded. “Cub only reason I grateful for war chief. Wish cub had chosen gentle path, but soon will go on great hunt and claim right to be hunter and warrior . . . for great war coming if we no act soon.”
“Maybe he’ll listen if you tell him—”
Bush shook her head. “Cub only listens to great war chief, Turd. No listen to female, even mother—”
“Wait, did you say . . . Turd?” Do not laugh, Jessie. As Stan Lee is my witness, you will not laugh. “His name . . . is Turd?”
“Great Turd even mightier than Hugh Jackman, Leader of the Northern Tribes, and father to only cub,” Bush said, her face pensive enough to kill my urge to giggle.
“The war chief is your. . .”
“Bush and Yush both mate to Turd.”
“You’re both his mates?”
“Yes, sister mates.” She must have noticed the confused look on my face, because she asked, “No have sister mates?”
“Um, maybe in Arkansas.”
“Humans strange. Turd have many mates. We favorites long ago. Bush and Yush try to help him see reason when he young, but Turd have strange tastes, have unnatural urges.” She looked away. “We keep trying. Make him see reason or—”
“Or what?” I dared to ask.
Bush looked me right in the eyes. “Peace always worth fighting for, Hairless Holy One. Worth dying for even, but fear not. Bush is smart. Have many allies: Gurt, Flut, and mighty war wolf Grulg.” Bush looked away again. “Grulg honorable, listen to Bush.”
I assumed she was naming names there and not having some intestinal distress herself.
“And if Bush fail, then have Hairless Holy One to stop great T’lunta menace.”
“No pressure there.” I said to myself.
“Have faith, Hairless Holy One. You survive Heracles Hammer, win respect of great forest spirits, and conquer my cub when he—”
“Wait, Burp is your cub? I beat up your son?”
Bush smiled and snorted. I really needed to learn a snort retort sooner rather than later. “Burp need lesson. Hairless Holy One teach lesson. Maybe now Burp think with head instead of u’solk.”
♦ ♦ ♦
“Yo, wake up, you lazy pendejo!”
I must’ve drifted off to sleep at some point . . . and woken up in Brooklyn? No. Everything was still far too rural looking, including the pink llama leaning over me, staring me in the eye.
“Come on, let’s go! I might be immortal, but you ain’t, chica.”
“A-are you talking?”
“This one’s dumb, jefe,” the llama said, its lips moving in time to the words. “I bet she’s a blonde beneath all that hair dye.” This was it. I was having a Peter Porker moment and losing my mind.
“Now, now, Alkire, give Mistress Flores a break. After all, she is a guest.” Mr. Keyne unceremoniously shoved the pink ungulate away. “Please don’t be offended, he’s a bit of an acquired taste.”
“Stupid old man,” Alkire bleated before stomping away, muttering several unkind Spanish phrases under his breath.
“He can talk?”
Mr. Keyne nodded.
“Can all of them?”
Abraxas stepped forward and nodded. “We can if we have something to say, Maiden Jessie.”
This had to be a side effect of that weird rainbow puke. Either that or I was still asleep.
“Are you all right, Mistress Flores?” Mr. Keyne asked. “The others have gone back to their own quarters to rest. Abraxas and I have been keeping watch over you all night and most of the day.”
“All night? Aren’t you tired?” I asked between my own yawns.
He pushed up his sleeve and showed off a leaf tattoo on his forearm. “I cannot rest while my mistresses or any of their charges are in need.”
“Sounds like a curse,” I choked out.
Mr. Keyne shook his head vehemently. “Doing a job well is a pleasure, not a curse. Now sit up. I’ve managed to scrounge up a bit of breakfast. I figured you’d want a little normalcy after everything you’ve been through.” He presented a tray covered in surprisingly mundane fare—bananas, smoothie powder, and assorted pastries wrapped in plastic.
“Where did you get this from?”
He smiled sheepishly. “Let’s just say some backpackers got lost and wandered too close—to these sacred lands.”
“Oh . . . Oh!” That served as a reminder that not all the Bigfeet were as gentle as Bush and her sister. Still, my stomach was empty, and it looked a lot better than the plate of grubs Gary and I had been served yesterday. “I don’t suppose you found any Pop-Tarts,” I said, trying and failing to make a joke.
“Sadly no,” Mr. Keyne replied. “But I shall endeavor to keep my eyes open for some.”
I nodded my thanks, then picked up a few items and dug in, trying not to think about the source too much between bites.
“Oh, Mistress Sayuri left attire for you to wear to the conference. She and Mistress Olivia thought it best for you to sit with them today. Sadly, you’re no longer under the protection of a glamour. Due to your reaction, our hosts thought it best to remove any and all magicks from your person. However, the clothing they’ve provided has been steeped in my mistresses’ pheromones. That should mask your scent from prying noses for now.”
“But I’m human.”
“As am I. You’ll be masquerading as a servant.”
Apparently I was supposed to be one of Sayuri’s servants judging by the badass lacquered armor she’d left. Not bad. It beat my Magi mini-skirt any day of the week.
I got dressed as quickly as my jelly limbs would allow, then stumbled back to the ever-patient Mr. Keyne. He smiled and layered my sweater under the breastplate, and dang if it didn�
��t make awesome padding. Once in leg guards and a heavy cloak, I felt protected and toasty warm. His finishing touch was lifting Boo’s necklace out to the forefront. “There. Now it’s perfect.”
Mr. Keyne escorted me back beyond the vine curtain where I’d first entered the grove of the Meliae. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but from the darkening sky above, I guessed my breakfast was more along the lines of dinner.
Phil and Yush were both waiting for me as we stepped through.
“Yush hear of Hairless Holy One mixed many magics within her. Yush surprised Hairless Holy One not dead. Very strong.”
Phil reiterated what Mr. Keyne had told me about not being able to use glamours or enchantments for a few days.
“I get it. No magic for me.”
“And you need to watch what you eat and drink, too,” Phil added.
“I have that covered.” Mr. Keyne handed me a satchel. “Provisions, all vetted by me as human and magic-free. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I shall leave Mistress Flores in your care. I have tasks to complete.”
Yush dismissed him with a snort. I really needed to invest in an English-to-snort dictionary when I got back home. She then turned and looked at me, eyeing my armor. “Hairless Holy One look like mighty warrior. Yush approve.”
“A mighty warrior who vomits rainbows.”
Yush nodded gravely. “Not good. No more for now. Permanent damage,” she warned.
Good enough for me. I made a mental promise to myself to play the part of a nice, normal human and avoid anything even remotely related to magic. That pledge lasted all of fifteen minutes when I followed Yush and Phil back to the others who were standing at the edge of a valley from Hollywood’s wettest dream.
It was as if the residents of Hogwarts, Asgard, and Avatar had all gathered in a single place. A dragon buzzed by overhead while walking, talking lawn gnomes scampered just in front of us.
Offhand, I’d say the chances of me avoiding magic were roughly slim to none.
Chapter Thirty-One: The Quest for Peace
“In space, no one can hear you squee.”
Gary nodded in wide-eyed agreement from next to me. While we saw every misplaced critter from mythologies I’d never even heard of milling around, we couldn’t hear a thing.
Almost as if reading my thoughts, Phil stepped forward and reached a hand out. The air shimmered as she touched something immediately in front of us.
“Not bad. They must have worked on this all day.” She beckoned us forward. “It’s a glamour, one of the biggest I’ve ever seen, meant to dampen sound and keep us hidden from any passing airplanes or satellites. I have to admit, I’m impressed. Just prepare yourself. This might get a little weird.”
Gary and I exchanged sidelong glances. “Really?” we said in unison.
The moment we stepped forward, I could dig what Phil was saying. Shrieks, crackles, and buzzing instantly filled the air, along with more roars than an opening kickoff at Gillette.
Gary pointed to our right. “Lizardmen, we have lizardmen!”
I pointed to one in a chainmail bikini. “Um, lizard-women.”
Gary blushed a little as we inched by. “My bad. Shouldn’t have assumed. So, um, where should . . . where are we going?”
Squish! Something slithered across our path. Slurp?
I found myself staring at a monstrous Jell-O mold, complete with suspended bits in the middle. It quivered before me, as if in anticipation. Um . . . was this a snorting moment?
“Oh yay, snacks!” a voice exclaimed as a familiar form ran to my side. Boo clapped her hands before pushing what appeared to be a wooden coin into the blob. A moment later a slimy, bumpy fruit erupted from the gelatinous vendor. It continued to drip as Boo snatched it. “You want one, Conqueror of Burp?”
“I already ate,” I replied.
Boo took my hand—squishy, still squishy—and waved at the slime monster who undulated toward another group entering the arena as twilight crept over the scene.
Boo tugged at my hand. I tried not to watch her gobble down the nasty ambrosia. “Aren’t you supposed to be attending us?” she asked with an exaggerated wink. I guess flower girls weren’t known for subtlety. “Ooh, and you brought magi to visit.”
Phil smirked at her. “I’m going to make the rounds. Gare-bear, why don’t you go commune with these esteemed forest spirits while I explore?”
I swear, everyone around me was as subtle as a freight train. Still, it didn’t look like anyone was particularly paying attention, not with the chaos surrounding us.
Boo dragged me past a group of rock monsters and a red-eyed something in a hood. A cluster of seats decorated with cushions made of leaves gave away our destination.
“Is Floof with us?” I asked as I scanned the haughty women lounging ahead of us.
Boo shook her head. “Floof is with her own people. She’s probably watching from the trees.”
“That sounds like Floof.”
“I see you’ve finally deigned to join us.” I knew that dismissive voice by now, complete with wooden mask and thinly veiled contempt. “Try to keep your eyes open and your mouth shut lest you end up fed to one of the other delegations.” And with that, Ash stepped past me, complete with cape whip. Yeah, I snorted as she left. Finally, that horsey noise made perfect sense.
“I don’t think she likes you very much,” Gary whispered.
“Least she didn’t knock me out this time, but the night is still young.”
♦ ♦ ♦
We made our way to where Sayuri sat, a goblet in one hand and stifling a yawn with the other. She motioned to a little wooden bench just behind her. “Sit. The festivities will start soon. Oh, guard, you take the seat closest to me should I need you.”
I took the hint and sat at her side. At this distance I could feel the superiority practically seeping from her pores. She shook her cup and nodded to a pitcher on the ground. I guess being a guard also made me the default water girl.
My debt to society paid, I turned my attention to a group across the way. Of all the strange creatures here, they seemed most out of place, maybe because they looked to be dressed more for a board room than the woods. Vampires, no doubt about it. They seemed to be milling around a slender, slimy looking guy in an expensive suit. I could feel the ego radiating from him all the way across the arena. Could that be the ubervamp?
“Today you shall meet the leaders of two of the most powerful factions left in the human world, child. It should be modestly amusing,” Sayuri explained, not looking my way. “I assume that Ash has already lectured you on the merits of paying attention and staying silent, no?”
“I got the memo.”
Sayuri smiled ever so slightly. She nodded toward the vampires who seemed to be having some sort of kerfuffle on their side of the arena . . . with the blobby vending machine. “I think one of our guests of honor is making an impression. Dionaea, would you be so kind?”
Both Gary and I whipped around to see her familiar curvy shape joining us, now in a slightly more modest hooded cloak. One of her vines peeked from under her sleeve and waved to Gary. She waved her hands, mumbled something, and suddenly the air around the entire dryad entourage shimmered. “Y’all can speak privately now, darlin’s, Lady Sayuri.”
I looked across, where the commotion with the vendor was still going on, and my heart raced as I locked eyes on a vamp different than the others. The heat rose in my cheeks and my scalp as I saw brown hair and chiseled features. Where others of his kind radiated arrogance, he seemed to shimmer with a quiet confidence, his pale eyes scanning the crowd. That’s him. Deep in my heart I knew it. I grabbed Gary’s hand. “That’s him. That has to be him.”
“Wait . . . him?” Gary zeroed in on the hunk as well. “Are you sure? Do you feel something?”
Dionaea leaned between us and shot me a sly look. “Oh, I’m feelin’ something all right. Damn, he is fine. Is that—?”
“Focus!” Sayuri snapped. “This is a peace conference, not an org
y.”
“Yet,” Dionaea whispered, waving her hands again. The air shimmered once and this time everything grew hushed other than a small group of voices.
“—It’s a good thing you didn’t fire. Things are tense enough without us starting things off by shooting a food merchant.” The words lined up with the gorgeous ubervamp’s lips. Damn if he didn’t sound like a Boston blue blood.
“They were going to shoot Happy Blobby!” Boo gasped. “Vampires are horrible.”
“Shh!” The older dryads hissed as they leaned in to get a listen.
“What?!” another, far whinier voice exclaimed, as a reject from Revenge of the Nerds shuffled behind him in a puffy coat and thick, plastic glasses. I guess the ubervamp needed a servant, too, although I didn’t see what use he might be unless maybe someone needed their router reset in a magical forest.
The heat within me rose again, however, as the hunk sighed. “He was just trying to sell you some refreshments—”
“Clearly the T’lunta did not take this conference as seriously as I would have hoped,” Olivia said, also leaning over for Vampire TV. “We were promised trained delegates, not—”
We didn’t get a chance to continue the conversation, as our half of the arena burst to life, loud enough to disrupt Dionaea’s spell. The thundering stomping could mean only one thing—the Sasquatch contingent was ready to make an entrance . . . in style.
A line of giant apes formed in the colosseum, clad only in trophy necklaces and fur that didn’t cover nearly enough. I really did not need to see that. The Sasquatches roared as one, echoing even over the crowd. In the eerie calm that followed, I could feel the weight of a stare. The bleachers about a quarter way around the arena, just past the lizardfolk and some rock monsters, sported another hairy contingent. I could see Yush and Bush watching the arena intently while a small, black-furred Sasquatch chose to glare at me instead, nudging the massive hooded figure next to him and pointing my way. I guess Burp had some hard feelings after all. “Oh, what now?”
Any further musings got cut short as the weather suddenly turned from clear to a squall in the blink of an eye. Lightning crashed, and a pulsating green orb appeared in the center of the arena. As Gary and I stared, bug-eyed, Sayuri merely sighed. “Oh good, he didn’t scratch the table. My artisans worked for days on that.”
Second String Savior Page 26
