“Come, friends, join party,” he said in his broken English. “I am Chief Elder Sarvis. This is Elder Natichya, Elder Stiranya, and Elder Illishia,” he said waving to three female satyrs standing by the table. None of them were smiling, and both Stavius and Janus wished they were almost anywhere else.
“Thank you,” said Stavius as Janus stood silently by his side. “This is a really great party. It was nice of you to invite us.”
Sarvis laughed, saying “This not party. Party start soon. You see. And save politeness for the yunies. We all honest capra here!”
“Excuse me, but what are yunies and capras?” asked Janus.
“You boys know nothing, eh? Yunies are, you know, unicorns,” said Sarvis and every satyr in earshot turned and spat on the floor. When he added, “And capras are goats!” all the nearby satyrs cheered and took a swig of their drinks.
“But you have no drinks!” he exclaimed. “We have wine and beer and pear brandy that would make the gods weep. What you want?”
Stavius asked for a beer but Janus, who was only thirteen, after all, requested a juice.
“We get you beer,” Sarvis said to Stavius. “Not sure about juice but you go to kitchen to find,” he continued to Janus with a wave towards the far end of the pavilion behind the band.
Stavius received his beer, took a drink and grimaced at its warmth. Then he stood at the table in silence for a few awkward moments not knowing what to say.
“What is this festival?” he asked, trying to restart the conversation.
“Festival? No, this is Satyrsday Night,” explained Sarvis. “Satyrs work for the Yunies from Onesday through Fivesday, but on Satyrsday we work and play for ourselves. Then, on Satyrsday night we drink and sing and dance to celebrate living another week.”
Elder Natichya added, “And on Sunsday we nurse our hangovers!”
Everyone laughed, raised their mugs, and took another swig of their drinks.
“So, you work for the unicorns?” asked Stavius.
“Yes, we grow food for everyone, cook for centaurs, build and maintain buildings, and groom the yunies. They love to be groomed,” answered Sarvis with a groan. “And for this, they give us safe place to live with magic in air.”
“That sounds like an equitable arrangement,” noted Stavius, trying to keep the conversation positive.
“No, it not,” disagreed Sarvis. “You met queen. What you think?”
“She seemed nice.”
The entire table laughed, and Sarvis asked, “What you feel when in palace?”
“Well, I guess I felt awe,” answered Stavius after a moment of thought. “Meeting the queen of the unicorns was a pretty amazing experience.”
“What? You not feel love for queen?” asked Sarvis with a sly wink.
“No. Well, yes, but not in a girlfriend sort of way,” stammered Stavius. “I mean, I really liked her and felt at ease around her. And, yes, I guess I felt a general sense of love there. It was just such a wonderful experience.”
“Of course, you did,” laughed Sarvis. “Everybody love yunies. That what they do to you.”
“What do you mean?” asked Stavius as Janus returned with his juice. “What do you mean when you say that’s what they do to you?”
“You know how yunies can talk through minds, right? They telepaths. Well, yunies also make you have feelings. They empaths too,” said Sarvis, as he drained his beer and waved at someone to bring him another.
“You mean they can control our minds?” shouted Janus in alarm.
“No, no, don’t worry my friend,” Sarvis assured him. “Yes, they can control minds of small, stupid animals like gorats and soorats, but not smarter creatures like satyrs, centaurs, dragons or even humans. Our control over our minds is too powerful for them to control, but sadly, almost no one has much control over emotions. Yunies can make us feel whatever they want: love, awe, fear, anger, happiness or sadness. We have so little control over our emotions that we feel what yunies want, even when we know what they doing.
“So yes, satyrs are happy here, but question is: Is it just pretty illusion like those tables or is it genuine like carvings on this one?” explained Sarvis as his fresh beer arrived.
“But what does it matter?” asked one of the other elders. Stavius couldn’t remember her name.
“It makes all difference in the world!” exclaimed Stavius. “Illusions are just tricks while these carvings and emotions are real. It is the difference between being a puppet and being a living person.”
Everyone at the table silently stared at each other for several moments until Sarvis said, “And that is why you sit at table with me. Yes, it is impressive that you can see through illusions, but I am more impressed that you care. That is what is important, I think.”
Janus asked, “So, is this a new form of magic? I’ve never heard of such a thing before.”
Sarvis shook his head in a half-hearted denial. His great horns rocked side to side. “This not so much magic as an enhancement of dormant abilities found in all intelligent creatures.”
He sighed and paused for a moment until he his eyes brightened as he thought of an explanation. “Have you ever noticed how every now and then it seems as though someone reads another’s mind?”
He answered his question before anyone could speak. “Of course, you have, and we always come up with rational reasons that explain it, but truth is that sometimes that really happen. We just so terribly bad at telepathy that whole concept seems absurd. Emotions, on other hand, are entirely different story. We might not be able to control our own very well, but there are those among us who can force emotions onto others without any magic.”
Stavius and Janus glanced around the room, which caused Sarvis to laugh again.
“No, you looking in wrong place,” he chuckled. “Think of this: Mothers do it all the time. They can fill their children with love simply by opening their arms.”
“Or guilt with a look,” muttered one of the other elders.
“Or disappointment with a sigh,” agreed another elder as they clinked wine glasses and drained their drinks.
“Right,” said Sarvis, before he lost control of the conversation. “You get idea. Yunies have simply used magic to enhance those abilities to an incredible level. Hang around them long enough, and you will start to do it too, although you will never be as good as them. But Satyrsday night is time for fun, not worries about yunies!”
By this time the music had started, and satyrs were beginning to dance. The band consisted of a group of drummers and several lyre players. The lyre players were impressive. Stavius and Janus had always considered lyres to be nothing more than little harps gently strummed to create serene music. This band was using magically enhanced versions which sounded like roaring rock guitars.
The dancing was also amazing to watch. Satyr dancing looks a lot like Irish line dancing. Rows of satyrs dance intricate rhythms with only their hooves moving in unison. The acid rock magic lyres and the thunderous stomping of hooves caused all conversation to stop for the next half hour or so while the spectacle took place.
A hookah arrived at the table, and Sarvis convinced Stavius to take a puff. They were smoking something called poosh, which Stavius suspected was a relative of marijuana. The water in the hookah was filled with sliced pears and apples, which cooled the smoke and gave a fruity essence, but Stavius still coughed on his puff and nearly puked. The elders laughed and took long drags, but Stavius begged off any more hits and Janus excused himself from the table muttering about nasty warm drinks. Stavius agreed with Janus’ complaint and had switched from warm beer to wine a while back.
For the next hour, Stavius and the elders laughed and joked and discussed the world while the rest of the village drank, laughed and occasionally butted heads. That is not a symbolic statement. Satyrs often try to resolve disputes by charging each other and banging their ram horns together in a deafening crash. This action often seemed to relate to disagreements about bucks and does and def
initely increased with the consumption of alcohol.
The party started dying down after another hour, and Stavius was feeling grateful that they would be able to turn in early. However, this was evidently not the way these parties usually progressed, and Sarvis was curious about the large and strangely quiet crowd gathering at the far end of the pavilion. He had just sent someone over to investigate when there was a brilliant blue flash followed by a small explosion in the center of the crowd.
“What the Janus is going on?” shouted Sarvis.
“I’m sure it wasn’t him,” Stavius quickly replied.
“No, Stavius, I no mean your friend. Janus is satyr swear word. We best find out what those goats are doing though.”
A great cheer erupted from the crowd before either of them could move, however. Within seconds the crowd parted, and a large, red-faced satyr broke through dragging Janus by the arm.
“This not good,” whispered Sarvis. “That is Staryan, the head chef. He not like people interfering with his kitchen. In fact, he not like much of anything. Staryan is insufferable, arrogant bully, but he is best cook I have ever known. Do not worry. I take care of this.”
“This kid did something unbelievable in my kitchen,” yelled Staryan, as he shoved Janus towards the elders. “Go ahead, tell them!”
“How about if I show him instead?” suggested Janus. “Staryan, can you hand me his beer mug?”
Staryan grabbed Sarvis’ mug, threw the beer out, wiped it clean on his apron, and handed the now-empty stein to Janus.
“What in Janus are you doing, Staryan?” screamed Sarvis. “You just threw my fresh beer on nice wood floor!”
Staryan ignored the Chief Elder as he and the other satyrs stared at Janus. Janus was rubbing the mug and concentrating his magical abilities onto it. A shimmering blue light glowed around his hands and the stein for several seconds until there was a small popping sound. The glow dissipated but the mug retained a slightly bluish tint.
“That was my favorite mug!” shouted Sarvis in exasperation as he reached for the mug. “What have you done to it? I don’t want a blue beer mug!”
Staryan elbowed him away before he could reach the mug and refilled it with the beer from a nearby satyr’s cup. He then handed the mug to Sarvis saying, “Chief Elder, look at what this boy has done.”
Sarvis glared at both of them, but his expression changed to puzzlement and then wonderment as he accepted the vessel. The beer mug was cold. In fact, it was so frigid that it was difficult to hold for very long.
Sarvis gingerly took a swig of beer and then chugged the entire mugful.
“Great Terra,” he exclaimed with a belch. “This boy has chilled my beer! How long will this mug stay cold, Janus?”
“It will always remain cold, Chief Elder,” said Janus. “Or, like all other enchantments, it will remain as long as I am alive.”
Sarvis immediately yelled, “Guards!” and both Stavius and Janus froze in terror as two large satyrs with long spears rushed to their sides.
Sarvis then commanded the guards, “Your one mission from now is to protect this young man’s life at all costs!”
The guards and everyone else looked confused and were unsure what to do until Sarvis continued, “I joking, although it is good idea. This young man has brought me cold beer on hot night. I am eternally in your debt, young Janus.”
“Actually, he has done far more than that,” said Staryan. “He has enchanted a large slab of stone in the kitchen in the same manner and instructed us in how to construct something called a refrigerator. Tomorrow we will begin building it, and by next Satyrsday everyone will have cold beer!”
The cheer that arose from the crowd was louder than all the singing, stomping hooves, and electric lyres from before. The satyrs were treating Janus as a hero, and Stavius could see the impact on him. The sharp-tongued boy who was always ready with a sarcastic remark was at a loss of words, but his expression was one of pure joy. Stavius doubted that Janus had ever been treated this way in his life and it seemed, at that moment, that something had changed inside him.
Ever the politician, Sarvis climbed up on the table to bring the attention back to himself. “Attention! Attention!” he yelled.
“I, Chief Elder of the satyrs am making proclamation. We all know that demigod Janus destroyed our world and we have used his name as a curse for generations. However, I proclaim that his name has been redeemed by human Janus who stands before us. By order of the Council of Satyrs, I proclaim that no one shall utter the name of the man who brought us the gift of cold beer as a curse ever again!”
Sarvis jumped off the table and promptly gave Janus a tight hug. He then grabbed Stavius and brought him into the embrace.
Stavius said, “If you think a cold beer is good, wait until you try frozen margaritas!” He wasn’t positive, but Stavius swore that it looked like tears were flowing from Sarvis’ eyes when he released them.
“You our friends. You real friends – not illusions. This your home. You must stay,” Sarvis said to the boys.
“We would love to, Sarvis,” answered Stavius, “but we have a prophecy to fulfill, and we must leave in the morning.”
“I know of this prophecy, and I understand,” said Sarvis. “But remember that this is always home for you, and you must come back. But now we must drink!”
Another great cheer went up, and the party resumed. Bernice had been right. It was going to be a very long night.
Chapter 15
Jarius
SEPTEMBER 5, EARTH
This was the worst week of my life. I know I’ve said that before, but let me back up and explain.
I woke up feeling so sick on Monday morning that I was scared. My head was throbbing, and I knew I was going to throw up. The only doubt in my mind was whether I was going to make it to the bathroom in time.
The good news was that I made it, although just barely, but the bad news was that the toilet seat was down. Most of what came up went into the toilet, but it still made a mess. I was leaning over heaving a second time when my sister ran in and shouted down the stairs, “Mom! Dad! Mark is barfing!”
I was so dizzy that I couldn’t stand up and kept trying to puke, even when there was nothing left to come out. Mom and Dad found me hugging the toilet and mumbling “I swear I’ll never drink again.”
In hindsight, that was an unfortunate thing to say, but I wasn’t thinking straight. Dad grilled me pretty hard about what I meant by that after I cleaned up, but I swore that I really hadn’t drunk anything or taken any drugs. I’m not sure he believed me, and Mom rushed me over to the doctor while Dad got my sister ready for school.
Eventually, the doctor decided that I must have some sort of stomach bug because he drew some blood and whispered to my mom that they didn’t find any unexpected substances in it. He eventually instructed Mom to take me home, get me to drink lots of water, and stay in bed. They had no argument from me.
I spent all of Monday drinking water, chewing ice, and moaning in bed. I felt so bad that I didn’t even want to watch TV or play video games. It was awful.
I felt better on Tuesday, but Mom kept me home again, and I was stuck in bed bored out of my mind. So, I spent most of the day trying to decide whether to keep trying to get Jarius into Math and Science Club. I decided to try one more time, which was absolutely the worst thing I could’ve done.
I spent most of Wednesday’s math class trying to get Jarius to agree to come to our Math and Science Club meeting on Friday. I was trying so hard that Shontelle overheard and started working on him too. Jarius eventually caved and agreed to come on Friday if we both left him alone and if I agreed to hang out with his friends after school on Thursday. I was so happy that I would’ve agreed to anything. What a mistake.
I met him and a couple of his friends on the front steps after school on Thursday, and we hung out for a while until his older brother, Duane, drove up. Duane asked me if I liked horses as I climbed into the back seat and I said, “Of course,
” and he smiled. Then he asked how much money I had with me and laughed when I told him I had twenty dollars. Jarius got in the front seat, slammed the door, and we drove off.
I live in a part of town called Mount Lookout, which is on the east side of the city but Duane was heading northeast towards Silverton and Kennedy Heights. Duane parked in front of a run-down bar on Montgomery Road and, while I kind of knew where I was, I had never wandered around that neighborhood before.
We all piled out of the car, and the guys started walking toward the bar.
I said, “Hey, we’re not going in there are we?”
Jarius just laughed and said, “No, of course not. We’re too young to be hanging out in bars.”
I followed the group around the side of the building and down some steps to a basement door in the back by the garbage cans. A huge man opened the door and glared at me, but Jarius assured him that I was cool and he let us in. That was when I found myself in a smoky basement room filled with men holding warm beers and betting forms while staring at TV screens on the walls. I was in an illegal betting parlor.
“Hey guys, I don’t think we should be here,” I said.
“Chill out, dude,” laughed Jarius. “You said you liked the ponies. Besides, this is our dad’s bar and game room. We’re all cool here.”
Then he looked at me with the nastiest expression I’ve ever seen anyone give me and said, “You’re a math whiz. You could probably use all your math skills to parlay that twenty bucks of yours to a fortune. Of course, if you want to go home, you’re free to go. We live upstairs, so we’re already home.”
Jarius and his friends laughed and walked away. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I was sure that I’d be finding my own way home whether I left now or waited until later. I decided to go now.
I stood on the sidewalk for several minutes trying to figure out how I was going to get home. I couldn’t call Mom to ask her to pick me up from a seedy bar in Kennedy Heights – especially since they already thought I was a raging alcoholic. I knew it wasn’t realistic to walk home, but I started walking in that direction anyway while deciding what to do.
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