by Charley Case
Mila blushed and quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching, but it was still relatively early in the day, and most people were just settling in to work, leaving the streets mostly empty. When she turned back, her eyes bugged out a little at the sight of Remmy, now pantless, scrubbing the blood from her body with her wadded-up shorts.
“Come on, Mila. Get in here. You look like a blood ghost.”
Mila knew Remmy was right. She couldn’t very well walk the streets looking like a mobile murder scene, but she wasn’t quite as free-spirited as the little goblin. Rolling a dumpster away from the wall, she created at least a little nook where they could wash in relative privacy, but if anyone happened to walk down the alley or look out one of the windows, they were going to get a show.
Reluctantly, Mila undid her corset and laid it on the ground. With a deep breath to steady herself for her first round of public nudity, she pulled her t-shirt off, followed by her sports bra. Halfway there, she powered through and had her shoes and pants off in one go.
“Feels good, huh?” Remmy said with a knowing nod at her naked body.
“You are a strange goblin, Remmy. But I have to say you are resourceful.” Mila used her black leggings as a sponge to clean the blood from her face. “Speaking of, did you find somewhere close by we can get some clothes?”
“Yeah, I have just the place. It’s about a mile away, but it’ll be worth the walk. My cousin works there. He can hook us up big time.”
“What’s it called?”
Remmy smiled. “It’s a surprise. You’ll love it.”
Mila looked down and felt a chill run through her as she saw the river of red-stained water flowing from her.
“I really wish Penny were here.”
“To fight with us?” Remmy scrubbed her armpit.
“No. So she could use her cleansing spell on us.”
Remmy’s mouth dropped open. “And miss a chance to be naked?”
“You are so weird,” Mila laughed.
Remmy dropped her makeshift rag and stood to perform a full-body flex, like a fitness model in miniature. “It’s a crime not to break this thing out as much as I can.”
Mila laughed and shook her head in amused disbelief.
Chapter Fourteen
Finn smiled and tipped his enormous yellow sun hat as he walked past two middle-aged women reclining on their towels and staring with slack-jawed confusion.
Finn was having the time of his life. The fresh ocean air felt invigorating, and walking down the beach fighting the sand was great exercise. Aside from all the stares he was getting, it was a perfect way to spend a morning.
He wasn't sure why he was getting so many stares, but he suspected it was jealousy over his amazing new hat.
The flip-flops were wonderful for the long walk on the asphalt to get to the beach, but as soon as he was in the sand, he stowed them in his pack so he could feel the warm sand granules his toes.
He took a sip from his second craft beer, stuffed in the pink koozie, and smacked his lips. It was a local brew from Black Narrows Brewing Company, which was located on the island, at least according to what the can said. He was thoroughly enjoying it. It was called Chincoteague Salts, described as a tart oyster wheat. It was a slightly hazy wheat beer with an aftertaste that reminded him of all the best parts of the ocean. He thought it had just the right amount of weird that Mila would love it, and decided to save a couple of cans for her.
He reached down to adjust the black speedo for the tenth time. It wasn’t that the tight little swim trunks weren’t comfortable, quite the opposite actually. As soon as he had tried them on, he knew there was no other swimwear he would even consider. He felt like he was wearing nothing at all, the way swimming should feel.
As a child, he had gone swimming many times at school and with his caretakers at his father’s palace, and not once had he ever seen anything even resembling swimwear for men or women. Every dwarf swam in the nude. There was just something amazing about jumping into the freezing waters, naked and alone, to battle hypothermia with nothing but your strength of will. Maybe it was just a dwarf thing.
The reason he kept having to make adjustments was that while wearing the Speedo, he didn’t have a way to attach his weapon harness. However, he didn’t want to have to rummage through the pack if he needed a weapon quickly, so he made a compromise.
Fragar folded down into its handle was only about six inches long and an inch thick. He found that with a little personal adjusting, he was able to store the handle down the front of his trunks without it showing due to the trunk’s other occupants. It was the best solution he could come up with to get to the weapon fast but also keep it securely on his person. He thought of it as an elegant solution to a mundane problem.
The issue was that as he walked, the handle would work itself into an awkward position, making a quick draw of the weapon not only impossible but posing serious danger to his man-bits.
“Jesus, dude. Nice banana hammock. Looks like you’re smuggling an axe handle in there!”
Finn looked at a group of laughing college-age men and women sitting in folding beach chairs or lying out on large towels. They had gathered around a huge cooler packed with cheap beers and what looked like premixed margaritas. Several large umbrellas kept most of the sun off them. They looked like they were ready for a long day of drinking and soaking up the sun.
A large guy laughed at his own observation, egged on by the rest of the group. Close beside him sat a young woman who leered very obviously at Finn’s body as she bit her bottom lip.
The look reminded Finn of the time he had been stared down by one of the apex predators out on the Gomina Savanna. He hoped the young woman wouldn’t charge him like the Sabertoothed Hellcat had. He still had a scar on his left butt cheek from that encounter.
Finn looked down at the bulging front of his speedo, but couldn’t see the handle at all. “You can see that?”
“Oh, yeah. I can see it,” The woman purred, making the guy snap his head her way in surprise as the rest of the group burst out in a new round of laughter.
“Dammit! I thought I had it tucked in just right,” Finn said, trying to adjust again, but not seeing where Fragar was pressed against the material.
“You most definitely do, big guy. It’s perfect!” Another girl lying on a beach towel gave Finn a thumbs-up as she took a swig of her margarita.
“Wait, so you can’t see the axe handle anymore?” Finn asked, confused.
One of the guys in the back burst into laughter. “Dude, are you fucking with us?”
“Not at all.” Finn walked over to the group, maybe they were having a hard time spotting it from that distance. “I thought I had the handle hidden pretty well.”
“Oh, my God,” the guy in the chair said in disgust. The joke had gone too far in his mind now that he was staring down Finn’s bulging speedo. “You call it ‘the Handle?’”
Finn laughed. “Well, that’s the best thing to call it. Technically speaking, the handle is much larger when it unfolds. Right now, I guess it’s more of an axe grip, but calling it a grip is ridiculous.”
“What the fuck, dude?” the guy asked.
The girl’s eyes got wide and she said, “It gets bigger?”
Finn laughed. “Of course it does. It wouldn't be much of a weapon if it didn't.”
“That’s hot.” The girl on the towel said matter-of-factly.
“Well, if you can see it, then maybe I should just take it out.” Finn pulled the waistband away from his stomach and peered down at Fragar’s handle tucked securely away.
“Yes, please!” the two girls said, while all the guys shouted for him to keep it in his pants.
“Dude, you can’t whip that thing out here!” the guy in the chair pleaded, his eyes wide with fear. “This is a national park. They’ll arrest you for doing that kind of shit.”
“Unfortunately, Tom’s right. This is a weapons-free zone if you know what I mean.” The girl on the towel pou
ted as she pointed at a small blue sign posted at the closest beach entrance.
It had a picture of a gun with a slashed circle over it. At the bottom of the sign, it read, Weapons-free Zone.
Finn deflated and let the band of his trunks snap closed. “Well, shit. I was hoping to keep it a secret, but if you guys could spot it all the way over there…”
He shrugged. “Nothing more satisfying than that look a guy gets when I whip Fragar out at the last second and extend it right in his face.”
Finn chuckled as he remembered one particular thug that had actually shat himself, then run in the opposite direction, holding his pants up with both hands.
“Fragar?” Tom asked, confused.
At the same time, the girl next to him looked sad. “Guy?”
Finn saw his mistake right away. In the dwarven language, there were no male or female pronouns. All dwarves were equal in dwarven eyes. He remembered a talk with Mila where she tried to explain sexism to him. He was pretty sure he understood, but it was a lifetime of habit to break.
“Sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to be non-inclusive. Guy or girl, it doesn’t matter; you come at me, you’re going to get Fragar stuck in you one way or another.” He winked at her to let her know he was grateful for her correction.
“And we’re back in the game, girls!” Margarita Girl said triumphantly.
“What the fuck is a Fragar?” Tom looked a little insane, as if he were not dealing well with the conversation so far.
“Oh, sorry. That’s the axe’s name. Fragar.” He chuckled at the confused faces looking back up at him. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t name it. You’ll have to blame my great-great-uncle Fafnir; he’s the one who gave it that moniker.”
Tom’s eyes went wide. “The fuck?”
“I really wish I could show it to you. It just has the most perfect lines, powerful and graceful at the same time. It’s one of the only weapons I’ve ever seen that can strike fear and admiration at the same time.”
“I knew a guy in high school that had one of those,” the girl in the chair said, shivering at the memory.
Tom snapped his head her way. “The fuck?”
“Fun fact,” Finn continued, lost in his people’s history. “Fafnir was eventually killed with his own sword, Gram. Man, that is a beautiful sword—three feet of magically imbued gold. Perfect amount of heft to it. Enough that you know it’s in your hand, but not so much that you get tired using it, even after hours of swinging it on the battlefield.”
“Three feet?” Tom pulled at his hair. “What the fuck are you talking about? It was just a joke, man! I was just fucking with you!”
“No. My bad for not hiding it well enough.” Finn waved off Tom’s attempt at downplaying the situation. He glanced around the beach, saw that there weren’t any other people close by, and decided to take a chance. These nice people deserved a little something for taking the time to talk to him.
Finn leaned in and spoke in a loud whisper. “Look, I know it’s against the rules, but you guys have been great, and I feel like it would be a crime not to show you Fragar in all its glory. I figure we’re secluded enough that I’m willing to take the chance.” He looked at each of them in turn. “What do you say? You guys want to see it?”
There was a general nodding from everyone but Tom, who just sat there, his mouth open and a glazed look to his eyes.
Finn glanced around one more time then reached into his trunks, pulled out Fragar, and whispered the power word. In the blink of an eye, the handle extended, then unfolded several times before snapping into its complete form, glowing with magical purple light as the thousands of runes etched themselves into the blade and haft.
Finn spun the handle to twirl the wide blade of the bearded axe and make the sunlight dance off its polished surface.
As he squatted before the kids, Finn held up the magical axe for all to see. Once he was sure they had all gotten a good look, he whispered the power word again, and Fragar instantly folded back down into its handle.
Finn stood and stuffed the folded axe back into place in his trunks, then smiled down at their slack-jawed faces. “I felt the same way the first time I saw it too! Man, you guys were great, but I have to go. Hope you all have a good one.”
He waved and walked on down the beach.
The group sat in silence as they watched the giant man who carried a magical axe in his Speedo walk farther up the beach until he disappeared in the heat shimmers coming off the sand.
A guy in the back, under one of the umbrellas, cleared his throat. “Everyone thought he was talking about his dick, right? That wasn’t just me?”
They all nodded and took long drinks of whatever they had on hand.
Chapter Fifteen
Mila stepped out of Lee’s Leather and tugged at the bottom hem of her new moto jacket, admiring the soft, supple texture. She liked the offset zipper that ran up at an angle from her left hip to her left shoulder, leaving the front of the jacket as a single smooth panel of black leather.
The leather pants, on the other hand, would take some getting used to. Although after popping a quick squat to check her movement range, she’d been surprised at how much the soft black hide stretched. To tell the truth, the pants didn’t restrict her at all.
Remmy stepped out beside her and Mila had to smile. She had never seen anyone in that much leather who wasn’t working at a fetish club. Not that she had ever been to a fetish club, but it was the first example that came to mind.
The goblin had gone with a hooded leather catsuit that had a series of stylish silver buckles up the front to keep it closed, and flared bottoms to fit over the new pair of boots. Her daggers were hidden under a thin leather duster that was light enough that it flapped in the light breeze. Every bit of leather was dyed black except the dark brown belt and dagger sheaths. She looked like some comic book hero, and Mila thought it was adorable. She had to admit Remmy looked quite attractive in a goth-meets-cowboy kind of way. The whole ensemble was completely over the top and fit Remmy to a tee.
Mila had gone a little more subtle. She’d bought the black moto jacket that covered her corset holster, a white t-shirt, fitted black leather pants, and a pair of boots that felt like she had been wearing them for years, they were so well made.
They’d arrived at the store and a woman had met them at the door, then led them both directly to a changing room where the clothes were already waiting. They’d changed, thrown away their old outfits, and paid with a wad of cash that Mila felt was a little small considering the quality of the garments.
“Okay.” Mila headed down the street towards a cafe they had passed on their way to the shop. “Two questions. Why did we go to a custom leather shop for clothes, and how the fuck did they know we were coming and what our sizes are? Actually, there’s a third question. Those clothes fit you like a glove. There is no way they had goblin-sized clothes on the rack. What just happened there?”
Remmy laughed. “I told you I had a cousin that worked there, right?”
Mila nodded.
“Well, I texted him and told him what we needed and that we would be there shortly. He got it all together, and that’s that.” She started skipping down the hill to keep pace with Mila. “The reason we went to a leather shop is that I knew they would have stuff in my size. If we went to a regular store, then I would have to find stuff that didn't really fit me in the kids’ section. I hate clothes that don't fit.”
At the café, Mila opened the door for the energetic Remmy. “After you, my lady.”
Remmy bowed and flourished her duster behind her with one hand. “Thank you, my lady.”
Mila laughed as they stepped inside.
Cafe Rouge was a coffee and sandwich place that seemed to specialize in the French style. Framed posters of the Eiffel Tower and the French countryside adorned several walls, along with a lot of brick and timber construction that was reminiscent of an old-world farmhouse.
They found a table close to the windows along the
front of the establishment and sat down. Mila unzipped her jacket but refrained from taking it off, which was one of the biggest drawbacks of carrying concealed weapons.
“Okay, I understand that they had clothes in your proportions, but my question is, why?”
“Oh, because any good leather shop employs goblins as artisans,” Remmy explained as if it were obvious.
“What? Why?” Mila hadn’t known about that.
“Most leather shops are owned by magicals, and everyone knows the best leatherworkers are goblins. My people have been shaping leather for as long as there has been leather. It’s the one art form my people excel at. Plus, if we went to a leather shop, then we could get enchanted gear.”
Mila held up the front flap of her moto jacket and looked at it closely. “This is enchanted? To do what?”
“Just simple stuff, like the ability to stretch and heal itself over time.”
“It’s enchanted to stretch?” Mila was shocked that she had never thought of that being a thing. “They can do that?”
Remmy laughed at her wonder. “Of course they can. Why else would you be able to move so well in those pants?”
“I don't know. I just thought they were really thin or something.”
“I like how I said they can stretch and heal themselves over time, and it was the stretching part that blew your mind.”
Mila chuckled along with her. “Yeah, I suppose that was the odd one to latch onto. I guess living with Danica makes healing magic feel second nature to me. A piece of clothing that heals just seems like the natural thing to do if you’re enchanting clothes.”
“Oh.” Remmy lofted her brows as she remembered something. “I also asked him to make it hydroprofik.”
Mila raised an eyebrow. “You mean, ‘hydrophobic?’”
“Yeah, that one. Where liquid stuff just falls off and stuff.”
“What made you think to ask for that?”
“Well, mostly, it was the impromptu bath we had to take in the alley. Won’t have to do that if the blood just rolls off you in the first place.”
