Chapter 14

Vince’s drive back to Cedar Hill went smoothly, as did hauling the slumbering Bayla back to his rented condo. The Meyer-mobile’s clock read past two in the morning. Good. I don’t want to explain carrying an unconscious girl home to any neighbors. I don’t need another run-in with the sheriff’s office.

He might not have minded if somebody had been on hand to help with the front door or the elevator, but he pressed on. As much as Bayla’s shorter height bothered her, it made her easier to manage.

“Hey Zeke, put away the girly magazines, we’ve got company.” Vince chuckled to himself while the lizard looked on impassively from his sunning rock. The red light of the heat lamp lit Vince’s way as he maneuvered the unconscious orca through the doorway.

Even with Bayla’s light weight, his arms were beginning to quiver at the exertion. He had a choice to make: who got the bed? After that whirlwind of a day, he was sorely tempted to drop the transformed orca in his worn easy chair in front of the TV and take the queen bed for himself. She wouldn’t know better...

Vince tossed aside that scummy line of thinking. Deciding that chivalry was not quite dead, he tucked her in his bed and sat in the chair. It’s not too bad a place to sleep. Not really. At least I have the footrest. He really hoped he had thrown off the Ivory Witch’s tracking by swapping the knives, but he was too past it to take any further action. He passed out as soon as his head hit the back of the chair.

Vince awoke the next morning, reluctantly. At least I woke up; means that Nanora woman didn’t track us down. He noticed that his back was not the least bit sore. Good, last time I passed out here I was bent over all day.

Vince must have been tired; he always had the flying dreams when he was exhausted. They were pleasant enough, though they had to come to an end sometime. As he came back to life and stretched out, nothing added up. I shouldn’t have this much room, and I’m not alone!

That moment of confusion woke him up faster than a whole pot of coffee. Where am I? Once his vision cleared, he realized he was in his own bed, a snoring Bayla nuzzled up against him. Her clothes had shifted back to the sleeveless dress she had worn after first transforming, and he was also still in his clothes from the night before.

“Means nothing improper happened…” he muttered to himself. Should I be disappointed? Nah, that’d be weird on all sorts of levels.

He tried to slip out of her grip around his right arm, but he did not budge a centimeter. The girl’s like a cute vice. He flopped back onto his pillow, which Bayla snored on through even as he shook the bed. She seemed to think the way humans sleep was like death; who knows how long she’ll stay like that?

It was tempting to stay like that a while longer, but Vince’s conscience got the better of him. “Hey, Bayla, wake up!”

The orca snorted, her eyes fluttering open. “Hm?” The sound was punctuated by a very whale-like click. “Where am I?”

Vince had expected her to notice their compromising position, shriek in embarrassment, and flee the room… if she did not attack him. Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll laugh it off again, like when she first transformed?

Bayla did let out a shriek as she shot upright, which was accompanied by another note of whale song. Vince winced in anticipation as she lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

A sad note echoed in the room, and he felt his shirt growing wet. “Are you crying?”

Another mournful tone escaped her throat, and Vince felt his spine crack as she gripped him tighter, like he was the last life preserver after a shipwreck. “I died! Vincemeyer, I died, and there were visions of that griffon and his master, and I burned all over again, and then there was nothing!” Her head popped up so she could scan the dim room, even as the tears still flowed. “Is this the Final Abyss? The Shining Ocean would not reek so, would it?”

Vince sniffed the air, admitting there was a certain musk to his condo. Sunday was his normal laundry day, and there might have been a pile in need of some soap. Not like I knew I’d be having company. “Remember the park? That’s just how Landmen sleep. We completely pass out.”

She pushed herself back up again, giving him an incredulous look. “Is that what being a-trance is like for you? How do you live with that?”

“Don’t have much of a choice,” he replied.

“If this isn’t the land of the dead, explain those awful visions!”

“We call those dreams,” he said. “They aren’t always bad, though they’re usually a little strange.” At least she isn’t worried about waking up next to me; she’s just happy to be awake at all. “Say, I don’t suppose you know how we ended up here together?” He pointed towards the open door. “Last thing I remember was sitting down there. Did I sleepwalk in here or something?”

Bayla pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I remember lifting something large in my visions. Maybe I carried you in?”

“Bullshit, pardon my language,” he said. “There’s no way you could carry me around like that. I don’t care how strong you are, you wouldn’t have the leverage.”

Bayla hopped out of bed, and Vince let out a startled cry of his own as she lifted him right over her head. He was half-right; she could raise him up, but Bayla ended up pitching over onto the bed. The two ended up in a tangle of limbs before separating again.

“Explains the flying dream,” he said. “You’re a sleepwalker. Guess that makes sense, the way you normally sleep.”

She tilted her head at him, seeming unconcerned about their trancing arrangements. “Then I did haul you in here.” She peered out into living room, firing a set of clicks to quickly echolocate the area. “Landmen do not sleep sitting up, do they? Why did you not lay down on your trance-platform?”

“It’s a bed,” he said. “And I put you here.”

“So? There is plenty of room for the two of us. Why should I chase you out of your own bed?”

He gulped. “W-well, a Landman and Landwoman don’t usually sleep in the same bed unless they’re mates.”

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Her face turned bright red as she backpedaled out of bed, falling to the ground with a loud thump. The orca’s head popped up over the edge of the bed, her cheeks bright red. “What? Why would… Are you Landmen so lascivious and decadent that you must trance apart so you don’t rut like seals in heat? It is only sleeping together!”

Vince felt his own face grow warm. “That’s, ah, a phrase we use for mating. P-probably best not to tell people we did that.”

Bayla’s dark eyes went wide. ““D-do not get any strange ideas. I am not attracted to Landmen, no more than you might be smitten by my natural form. I simply do not know your customs.”

Vince winced at the rebuff. Yeah, she might be a cutie right now, but that’s a freaking giant dolphin standing in my bedroom, not a woman. Probably best to keep that in mind. It’ll be less disappointing.

“You ever tried coffee before?” asked Vince, trying to change the subject.

“Kafi? I believe that is a Landman trading post in the south.”

He smirked at her. “That sounds like a no. You’ll either love it, or you’ll love it once we add some cream and sugar.” He walked past her, leading her over to his small kitchenette and his coffee pot. Bayla was transfixed as watched him measure out the coffee grounds and water.

“What is this ritual? Some sort of alchemy?”

“I guess you catch all your food raw,” he said. “We don’t usually. I guess you could call it alchemy. A little water and a little heat, and these ground beans turn into a sort of potion. There we go; it’ll just be a few minutes.”

Bayla was transfixed as the dark liquid filled the coffee pot. Vince found the orca charming when she was befuddled by the humdrum parts of his life. Almost makes it all seem special.

After a moment of intense observation, she spoke up, her eyes still locked on the novel process.

“Vince Meyer… splendid, I managed your strange name that time. It runs together more easily.”

“Just call me Vince,” he said. “You guys really don’t do family names, do you?”

“We all know each other, so it unneeded. However, that is not important right now! Why are we making Kafi and talking about beds and sleeping together?”

It was Vince’s turn to be befuddled. “Um, what should we talk about instead?”

“Vince, you seem extremely unconcerned, considering we fought with a witch last night!” Her dress flowed like liquid, revealing where Ava’s stitches still held her skin together. “A griffon is one of the least dangerous beasts they can summon, and it could have killed you!”

Vince gulped as flashes of violence bubbled up from his subconscious. Waking up next to a beauty like Bayla might have dulled his memories of the night before. His own bruised hip ached, and his pulse quickened as he remembered that he had stabbed a mythological creature to death.

“Hey, um, would you mind patching me up again?” He patted his hip, which turned out to be a mistake. “That griffon clocked me pretty good.”

“Of course. Let me get some water.” Showing some familiarity with Landman plumbing, she turned on his faucet. She did not know to get a glass, but she was able to catch another orb of liquid with her magic. “Show me where it hurts.”

He patted his side again.

“You should remove your hides; I will have an easier time seeing your wounds.”

“Well, that’s…”

Bayla’s face reddened again once she saw Vince do the same. “Seriously? Another taboo? What can a Landman and Landmaiden do together without it being tied to rutting?”

“Surprisingly little,” he admitted. Bayla crouched down and rolled her eyes, applying the water ball to his thigh. “What is that witch’s deal, anyway? She seemed to think I kidnapped you.”

“Witches,” spat Bayla as she began to pace. Finding the one-piece dress awkward to crouch in, it shifted into a copy of Vince’s own plaid shirt and blue jeans. It seemed she had trouble with the color, though; the jeans were several shades darker, trending towards black, and the plaid shirt was white with black and gold hatching.

Kinda unfair she wears it better than me.

“Witches!” There was even more venom in Bayla’s voice the second time. “Let me tell you of the witches! They claim all the land and sea as their domain and insist on telling everybody else how to live their lives.”

“How so? Are they some sort of empire?”

Bayla let out an annoyed click. “They could never be so honest. There are not enough of them, in any case. The witches prefer soft power. They possess powerful secret magics, and there are only a few thousand of their order. They keep to themselves, only coming out to tell us we are eating too many oilfish, or to order the Landmen to stop cutting down a certain type of tree.”

Vince cocked his head. “So, they’re what, environmentalists?”

“Come again?”

“They sound like… what’s a word you’d know… wardens? Stewards?”

Bayla crossed her arms under her chest and huffed. “Self-declared stewards! Nobody ever asked them to intervene. However, if anybody ever tries to seriously oppose them, they’d summon an army of snake-whales to back up their declarations.”

Vince nodded, finally understanding. Well, as much as he could. It sounds like one of Luis’ conspiracies about feminists running the government or something. He couldn’t be right, could he? “And she thinks she’s protecting you.”

“Like I were a child, or a mere beast,” muttered Bayla. “Yes, I was attacked, but I was fighting those hunters perfectly well by myself.”

Vince frowned. “I’m not so sure about that; you were pretty tangled up when I found you.”

“Oh?” Bayla stood, her plaid shirtsleeve shifted again, flowing over her hand. The black and white mass twisted and lengthened itself until it formed a narrow blade nearly as long as she was tall. “My Aqua Armor obeys my very thoughts. I was about to cut myself out when I was stranded.”

Vince raised on eyebrow. “Why didn’t you cut yourself out of that net before I reached you?”

Vince did not speak Orca, but those clicks sounded miffed. “You try casting magic when the air is being crushed from your lungs! I am fortunate I put myself in this form by mistake; I am not sure how much longer I would have lasted.”

He awaited Bayla to acknowledge his efforts somehow; he found instead he had created an awkward pause. “Thanks, by the way. My leg’s feeling much better.”

Bayla smiled at him as she shifted her clothes back to her default dress. “Splendid.”

“If we find that Nanora woman, she’ll listen to reason, right? If we convince her I’m not the cartoon villain she was describing, then the problem’s solved. Then you can stay as long as you like.”

“Did she listen last night?” countered Bayla. “She thinks you have me ensorcelled. That I am your slave. She won’t heed either of us.”

“Should she? Can people be mind controlled?”

Bayla’s frown deepened. “Possibly. It is not a magic I know, but like I said, the witches have their secrets. Regardless, I was not visiting the southern islands for diversion. Some of my podmates have gone missing, and we suspected there were Landmen behind it.”

Southern Islands? That implies she’s from up in Canada. “So they sent you down to investigate?”

Bayla blew a raspberry. “Mother wouldn’t allow it. I swam off on my own without telling anyone.” Her expression softened. “I know you are reluctant to let me go, but if I go home, Mother can send a delegation to the witches and call them off. It is for your safety.”

“R-reluctant? What gave you that idea?”

She let out a sigh, shaking her head. “You would be lost without me, clearly.” She ran her fingers through her silky, black hair. “And why should you not be? I am as winsome as a Landmaiden as I am an orca. However, I cannot remain much longer. It would only put you in danger.”

Vince did feel his heart sink as the thought of Bayla slipping through his fingers set in. Was she boastful and troublesome? Absolutely. But the way her eyes lit up as he finally poured the cups of coffee reminded him that he would miss the way she made the simplest things feel fresh. I hate that she’s right. I got damn lucky fighting that griffon.

“Okay, you win,” he conceded. “Let’s get you up to Greene Point; you should be able to find your way back north from there.”

“Absolutely not; I will not hike again.” She walked over and opened the window. “It is still the new day, but who knows when that witch will return?” She took a sip of her cup of coffee. “What is this bitter sludge?”

“Coffee,” he said. So much for taking a last scenic drive with her. He gently took the cup from her hand, adding a dollop of half and half. She seemed to enjoy her second sip more. “At least let me get you a proper Landman meal; all you’ve had is cotton candy and whatever you conned off Jorge last night.”

“I’m not sure that is a good idea; that witch could attack at any moment.”

“I’ve never heard of ‘em before. There’s witches, but they don’t really cast magic. That tells me Nanora isn’t going to do anything that could get her spotted. As long as we stay in public, she won’t try anything.”

Bayla looked like she was about to protest before her stomach growled. “You drive a hard bargain, Vince. I suppose I will allow you to feed me.”

He rolled his eyes. “How gracious of you.” Still, he wore a broad smile. Let’s make some memories.