Ch: 192 Never Skip Leg Day
Professor Glinitz puffed his pipe back to life with three tiny breaths in rapid succession. He felt the enchantment tap his magical essence for a sip of mana, very politely at that. Most of the deliciously rare objects of true enchanter’s craft he had collected over his long life tended to draw in magic aggressively, or even painfully, in the case of some highly suspect items.
The simple, utilitarian object worked by slowly gathering ambient magic, as it passed from the holder’s aura naturally; storing it in the dense, magically active hardwood of the bowl. The longer a person carried and used this pipe, the less energy would be required to ignite it. It was beautiful, elegant, simple and utterly mysterious.
“The eccentric fool won’t even consider selling them for coin… I had to go to the market and buy a quarter of beef from the butcher and have it delivered!” The old wizard complained. “It was still cheap at twice the price and criminally so… It’s like he just makes them… like a common craftsman!”
“He is a common craftsman lord Glinitz, he’s an orphan of Wheatford, not some eccentric young nobleman with a quirky lifestyle…” Amicus repeated. “I really wish you had soaked in his bath, it makes this so much easier.”
“Balderdash…that is almost as silly as your local gossip of a madman falling from the stars with candy in his pockets and the gods whispering in his ears...”
#
“Stop it Eponna, I’m trying to meditate.” Gary complained. “Stop snuffling in my ear, it’s distracting.”
“I’m over here GaryWard, in my human guise. That was Urcuchillay, a distant relative of mine from the mountain heights.” She said, from her hammock with Ducky. The entity nuzzling his ear and murring softly had a coat of curly hair in every color of the spectrum, all neatly brushed out and fluffed. Brilliant tassels dangled from his ears, as he gazed at the confused young man with huge, brown, long lashed eyes.
“He is the deity of llama and alpaca herders and of those who wander the hills searching for minerals… I told him of this place, but it was your woman who drew him in. She has gold fever and loves textiles!”
Urcuchillay looked way too buff to be so fluffy and way too fluffy to be so ripped. He somehow managed to look like a bodybuilding llama with superb muscle definition and an all over rainbow fro. There had to be some llamascaping going on, Gary thought, while drying his ear.
Wilf was velcroed to the furry guy’s neck so he passed the smell test. That and Velvet let him in... That guy was strict. “Ok, Urkuchilly…. Urukichuil, Chilly. Make yourself at home. Sorry, I’m gonna have problems with your name, I think.”
“He is a pretty cool dude…” The madman shrugged and tried to go back to meditating.
“Gary…” Ducky called gently from his hammock.
“Yes Ducks?” He answered, with his eyes still closed.
“Why are you letting all these gods in here with just a ‘vibe check’ at the door?” The tiny god asked, sounding like he maybe didn’t want the answer. “I definitely saw a half dozen greater fae and at least that many significant deities that I recognize vaguely. Coyote is here somewhere, though he’s hard to track down…”
“I have a lot of work to do, Ducks… I need to be hitting on all cylinders. Xolo is hanging around here somewhere, he scares the piss out of Gray. Ragy is in anger management classes with Thirp, he’s really coming along.” Gary’s mild and vacuous smile was false, obviously so.
“Are you really trying to keep a secret from me?” Marduk asked, in a hurt tone.
“Ducks… it’s not like that, it’s just, you suck at keeping secrets, just like I do. It’s better if I don’t say anything explicit yet. Lets just say, this is a global, deity level issue, but I’m just one guy with a traveling bathtub… Though, I do have a pretty good view of the problem.”
“Riddles and clues? I’ll ask Becky! She’ll tell me for sure.” Marduk sniffed.
“I’m sorry buddy, but when you figure it out, go ahead and tell everybody, cause it’s already too late for anyone to stop it.” Gary said with an infuriating smile. “Sorry, it feels like I’m waking up.”
#
It wasn’t early, it was still late. Gary woke just after midnight, wide eyed and alert; for no other reason than he was done sleeping. He wriggled… regretfully out of Shai’s embrace and headed downstairs, planning for some quiet workshop time. And maybe a jam sesh with Jimi and Starman…
Instead he walked down into a common room still slightly full of people. Rolf’s crew were keeping a watch in shifts, with the bathers joining in. Liam and Adam were up and on guard in light armor, with spears and swords propped close at and, for form’s sake if nothing else.
“Gary… what are you doing up?” Liam asked. “He’s our support monkey so he is exempt from guard duty…” His leader told the well muscled and athletic man with dark hair going prematurely gray at the temples.
The man nodded sagely. “Even the best support staff are only marginal in a fight.” He agreed soberly…
Gary made a friendly rude gesture and headed for the workshop door.
Hamish and Frank were chatting at a small table and deeply engaged in whatever nobles got up to, while sipping tea.
He grinned as he slipped down into the shop and found… more people.
Jack and Susan were strolling around and snooping in his stores. They started and looked guilty when he cleared his throat. “I stowed all the booze before this trip… I’d rather not have drunk nobles getting ideas in my house, around my family.” He grinned at them and shook his head. “Sorry guys, this is going to be a dry journey.”
He pulled his pipe and sparked it up with three gentle puffs, releasing a sweet, pungent scent. “Plenty herb though…” He coughed. “Ohh! More headband!”
It turns out, Jack played the pennywhistle rather well, while Susan revealed a lovely soprano… They were most of the way through ‘Three Little Birds’, before they realized he was woodworking at his bench vice. He had his back to them, whistling along, while shaping a wooden object with a drawknife, only his shadow kept playing the guitar behind him.
“That’s really creepy, man…” Susan whispered between numbers. “Like, really creepy.”
“I dunno, it’s just my shadow, I could have a friend haunt it if that would help… it really sounds like it wouldn’t help, but Ziggy plays a mean guitar.” He kept working as he chattered on, confusing them more completely every moment.
When they finally looked around, there were an even dozen musical shadows lingering in the corners, playing something very sweet and mellow.
“Lots of people think shadows are evil or sinister, but really they are just the evidence of our passage through the world, like footprints in the sand.” He murmured happily.
“Because magic, in its undirected state, works like light, spreading from its point of origin and diffusing. Living entities cast a ‘shadow’ in the magic of the world as well, we call this a being’s Ka, it’s spiritual shadow.”
He was still shaping and carving at the thing he was working on, leaning close and continuing to lecture his stoned audience.
“One of my gifts lets me send parts of my own Ka, to ‘haunt’ my shadow, giving it a limited ‘life’ of its own for a while. When I release my spell, the shadow slips back into me, no harm done.”
The band of shades circled around ‘Autumn Leaves’ twice, with an extended improv around the theme to ‘A Summer Place’ to cleanse the palate, before Gary started getting sleepy again.
“They aren’t independent, but neither can I direct them. They do what they wish, to a large degree… but they are still parts of me and always try to help me out, usually by playing my instruments.”
“How can shadows touch and manipulate physical objects? That makes little sense, boy” Susan coughed, with her lungs full of fine feelings. “Shadows are immaterial, these are no different.”
“True, they can’t touch the physical world. Any real contact with mundane objects breaks them apart; a living being can brush them away without effort. They can’t spy for me, fight, or anything like that.”
Jake nodded to the dark figure playing a mandolin in the corner. “They touch their instruments…”
“The shadow band are all made of parts of me, ephemeral and temporary, but still my own Ka. All of my personal instruments and really, most of the rest of the things I make have traces of my essence in them, making them in a weird way, part of me. So really, you’re watchin’ me touch myself…” He giggled inanely and sighed. “Ok. I’m going back to bed.”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“I’m curious, what are you making over there?” Susan asked finally, while his shades hung their instruments on the wall and slipped back into the shadow at his feet.
“A gift for a friend…” He murmured while packing away his tools. She slipped over and took a peek, before stumbling back in surprise and shock.
“It’s a wooden leg… it just looks super real…” The strange fellow muttered. “S’ just a leg…”
“Why is it a coffin shaped case? You freak!” She laughed, when the shock wore off. The thing was damn near perfect, crafted in rich, well rubbed ebony; it glowed with a robust almost life of its own. A wide band of intricately inscribed bronze capped the socket end of the remarkable limb, otherwise, it was a leg.
“Magically and spiritually, legs and arms, or rather, feet and hands are the same, but I still can’t quite get a handle on hands…” He giggled sleepily. “Weirdly enough, making a prosthetic head was pretty simple.” After that he vanished up the stairs, leaving the two on a conjured sofa with a smoldering pipe and lots of questions.
“He’s definitely nuts.” Jack said firmly. “Nobody should know that many songs about shoes. ‘Boogie Shoes’, ‘Blue Suede Shoes’ whatever ‘Pumped Up Kicks’ are…”
“That’s the weird part? The lyrics?” She asked, as she nestled in beside him and took the pipe back. “That makes me wonder about you, brother.”
#
Sunlight beamed in through the open balcony doors, flooding the room. Gary rolled over, face down and made his complaints eloquently.
“Gnnnana!”
A few moments later all three kids, Shai and Becky piled in, driving him out with elbows and feet that seemed to be everywhere.
“All right, I’m up! Horrible brats! Yes! All of you! Is that coffee? I love you all and cherish every moment we share together as a family…”
#
Morning on the plateau came late, with shadows lingering into mid morning among the mesas and rock formations. Down on the flatland, among the canals and beside the shallow lake, everything was moving at a frantic pace. For the wildlife anyway, the travelers were mostly in the garden, eating breakfast together and staring up at the wildly colored monoliths.
The normal, natural red brown stone was largely covered by fungal growths. Toadstools, shelf fungus and slime molds nestled among the shaggy-manes and puffballs. They were huge, visible from nearly a mile away and arrayed in all the varied hues mortal eyes could perceive.
A long faint trail of spores followed every stray gust of wind, spreading over the countryside.
“Whoa… Axio, that’s crazy…” The little amphibian was waddling up the garden path from the canal nearby, wearing bright blue board shorts. “Nice jams, man. Jennah made those for you?” He asked, distracted by the fine craft of the tail slit at the back of his trunks.
“You really are weird, Gary.” Becky sighed.
“Giant trippy mushroom mountains are surprising, but that’s some fine needlework.” He protested feebly. “I grew up around musicians… Psychedelic colors are familiar.”
“I find you all terribly lively and amusing…” Axio burbled happily. “Thank you again, for handling that crayfish. I’m building an ecology here, he was very disruptive.”
“Yer advice last night were reward enough, methinks. I’ll warn me kin tae nae disturb yer workings.” Shai was smiling very widely and eyeing a few arroyos on the northern edge of the lake with interest.
“I have a few families of Beaver and muskrat folk moving in soon, I’m sure they will welcome the company.” The amphibian spirit chirped and squeaked his farewells, as they rode off.
“I never even asked where they are going… maybe I’m a bad friend.” He muttered to a giant dragonfly, who had no input on the matter. “I hope those mammals get here soon, I’m starting to talk to myself…”
#
They packed up and hit the trail, following the path the expedition had taken a little over a week ago. Hoof prints and wagon tracks were still visible on the hard packed clay beyond the lakeshore, leading down into the badlands to the north.
The now familiar high desert environment took over a few miles from Axio’s lake, as oak and cacti once more dominated. Streams were rare and feeble affairs here, emerging from the rocky soil for a few dozen yards, sometimes a mile, then vanishing below the surface again.
Tracking the water was easy, since only along the hidden rivers and streams was there much plant life. “So, no one is going to mention the tiny, white salamander person in the blue shorts at breakfast this morning?” Sir Pangbourne asked as they rode.
“The moontouched are often accompanied by interesting people, such encounters are to be expected.” Rolf muttered cryptically.
“What does that mean? It really feels like that creature was something… extraordinary.” Frank grumbled, while rubbing Violet’s ears to calm himself.
“You may meet one or three small, disarmingly beautiful women on this journey…” Lady Emma sang, riding up beside them on a retired warhorse from the Belen stables. “Be polite, if they decide to drop in; don’t be deceived by their small stature, they are all profoundly ancient and powerful, like sweet little Axio.”
“You know that being?” He asked, admiring the view as she bounced up in her commoner’s costume.
Her hair was a dark, lustrous brown, cropped shorter than was the fashion currently, but wearing commoners bodice and skirts was scandalous, not simply a matter of style. The smiling young noblewoman seemed confident and happy… and corsets don’t let things bounce and jiggle so interestingly.
“Axio is a friend of recent acquaintance, but dear, none the less. He was the semi divine spirit of decay and the dead… Now he is the spirit of those vibrant wetlands and the architect of this place’s renewal.”
As they rode and chatted of ancient powers from beyond the grave, they noticed clumps of fungus, some small, others were distressingly large.
A dead oak standing a few yards off the road was coated with shelf fungus obscuring the trunk, while puffballs sprouted from the soil around the tree, like round, pale squash… or a field of bleached skulls…
Lady Emma seemed to pick up on the vibe as well.
“Axio says ‘all life is intertwined intimately with death’ and that we should ‘relax’ about our mortality, I say he is nearly immortal, so he doesn't get a say.” Her smile and red, round, apple cheeks seemed to make the dismal road a little less dusty, or perhaps he didn’t notice it as much.
House Fernlowe was well respected in the duchy of Wheatford, but unknown in his home up the coast of the shallow sea. Frank found himself wondering what House Pangbourne’s elderly matriarch, great auntie Francis, would think of Emma…
#
“...desert cave crawler gone monster… and a nasty variant too.” Luna was saying, as Gary and Shai caught up with the lead party, stopped below the crest of a hill.
“How big?” Khan asked sharply.
“Only six yards, maybe less… but it’s quick and aggressive.” She shrugged. “It’s out in the open, so something bigger, nastier or weirder must have driven it out. We have that going for us.”
“Call the halt, we’ll backtrack, find a good place to camp and send a detachment to deal with it.” Khan replied briskly. “As for whatever might be lurking in the caves, we’ll steer wide of any openings and make a report when we get back.”
The faint remnant of a road ran gradually down the barren slope of the mountain, headed for the lightly forested expanse of flat land below. The highlands above became much steeper and rockier as they slowly angled for the valley floor, down the nearly invisible track. Deep crevices and openings were abundant, as to which, if any, were cave entrances it was anyone’s guess.
The team pulled back to a hilltop, a half mile up the road to set up ‘camp’ in the early evening sun. Gary immediately pulled out his field guide to look up the listing for ‘desert cave crawlers’ and found a long listing of subtypes. Jungle creepers, swamp wrigglers, forest and even arboreal tree danglers, all of which were basically, giant mutant centipedes with venomous stings. The average size for desert cave crawlers was listed at ten yards, with a threat rating of C, meaning an iron rank party should be able to handle it with an acceptable margin of safety.
The listing came with a big asterisk at the bottom, stating:
‘…like most insect monsters, these creatures are highly variable and should be handled with caution. Consult local conditions and experts for advice.’
“How dangerous is it?” Gary asked, once tea and snacks were prepared and distributed. One must have priorities, especially on the road.
“A well trained team should have few troubles with it, unless caught unawares. The most common injuries and fatalities involve camping in their caves, unknowing. They are monstrous variants of a normal magical beast, the colossal centipede.”
“Thanks, I hate it, Luna.” Gary deadpanned.
“Wait till you see what happens when a colossal earwig goes monster…” She said with a viscous grin.
“Or a flying candiru swarm, that’s not even a monster problem, just a nightmare.” Khan said with a shudder.
“I’ll sleep sky clad in a skeeter swamp before I’ll take a chance around those things.”
“Flying candiru?” Gary asked quizzically. “It’s not listed in my book.”
“They aren’t found locally. Small, skinny, slippery, flying fish, almost invisible in the fog. They try to squizzle up your pizzle if you pee in the wrong bush.” Luna chuckled. “On the southern side of the shallow sea, watch where you wave those things.”
“It concerns me, how much joy you seem to take in the prospect, Luna.” Khan muttered.
#
“It’s a big, aggressive, hungry predator, remember, while we’re stalking it, it could be stalking us back. Stay sharp, stay together.” Liam spoke crisply and firmly, with his eyes on Gary, who was staying home with the kids and most of the rest of the group.
Liam and Tallum were at the head of the little column, followed by Ivy, Becky and Trent, Sir Pangbourne’s squire. Shai and Dannyl took scouting roles, with Shai stalking ahead and Dannyl lurking around their trail.
Khan, Luna and Pangbourne rode a quarter mile back, kept in contact by the strange devices that had been only rumored, until their mad demonstration a few nights before.
“Deer and wildlife ahead, it be nae near… we circle west a mite.” Shai’s voice whispered in their ears, followed a moment later by Dannyls’.
“Scratch that, it just picked up our trail. Keep going, find a good ambush spot.” He spoke softly, calmly and with a certain excitement in his voice.
“It’s a scent tracker, fast in short bursts and through obstructions, but slow over clear going.”
“Understood.” Liam answered, followed by a whispered confirmation from Shai.
“Aye, there be a clearing wi good sightlines here. Shall we bring it in?” She sounded eager too, perhaps too eager.
“Take it slow, this is unfamiliar territory and far from human lands.” Khan murmured quietly into their ears. “Play it smart, I promised Mikkel I’d bring you all back...”
“Screw Mikkel, I want them all back too.” Gary complained, with an arm full of Wilf. Emma had Rio and Amy, since none of the kids were happy about Shai and Becky going off to hunt something gross.
“You guys never mind when I go to smash something nasty…” He mumbled sourly, only mostly kidding.
“Rolf, get Gary off this device until we need him please. He’s jamming my comms.” Khan said casually.
“Hey! These are my comms! I can jam them if I wanna… Oww-!” Gary was cut off suddenly, mid yelp of pain.
“Don’t worry, Tawny is sewing his earlobe up, it should be as good as new before you get back.” Rolf came in a moment later. “Comms should be clear.”
“That lobe had best be shipshape an I return, Rolf… tis mine fer the tugging and nibbling, nae thine!” Shai grumbled in his ear.
#
Dannyl slowed, opening more distance between himself and the group, while falling directly into their trail, rather than shadowing them a few dozen yards out and behind. He opened the wicker basket on his hip and grinned at the bound insect. One gigantic, buzzing skeeter, wrapped in spidersilk was the only thing in his little creel.
Trent had wandered too far from camp and gotten bit by one of the wretched things. The stinging, burning itch of the massive bite always landed shortly after the nasty beast had taken off, usually in time to see the criminal’s bloated backend fluttering into the bushes.
Trent had wandered back into camp, grumbling, looking pale and rubbing the back of his thigh, where it had cut right through his pants and done its foul deed.
A few minutes later they had found the thing neatly wrapped and hanging from a bush like a gift, or tribute; its cargo of Trent’s blood still warm. Hence, they had something to whet the big nastie’s appetite, that no one minded sacrificing… especially Trent.
“Ready?” The young hunter asked his distant team, clutching his cocooned bait with distaste..
“Ready, do it.” Liam answered.
“Go.” In the same breath, Dannyl hurled his captive to the ground and stomped it flat, sending a gush of pilfered blood onto the rocky soil of the trail. He turned and bolted, flying for the meadow at his impressive top speed.
He pelted out of the brush a few minutes later, breathing heavily and sheened with sweat, but looking confident.
“It stopped to eat the skeeter, we have a minute.” He gasped.
#
“So, Dannyl deliberately isolates himself, straggling behind the group. When the thing finds a smushed, bloody skeeter on the group’s trail and senses Dannyl start running, that should trigger it to pursue.” Rolf and Emma were discussing tactics while Gary fumed and fretted.
“Really Gary, these kinds of operations are commonplace. My team has faced several variations on the colossal ‘pede. We put one of these down a few months ago out by the farther mines.” Rolf said with a satisfied smile. “It was even more challenging, since we had to fight it in its lair.”
“Why not bait it out?” Gary asked, still nervous and twitchy even after a few stitches and a change of shirt. “Like they are?”
“The things will never willingly leave their preferred environment. They’re stupid, not idiots. Aside from acid spit, a venomous bite and stinger tail, they are pretty fragile and vulnerable to more intelligent predators.” Rolf mused quietly. “I can’t imagine what would be awful enough to drive one out into the open scrublands…”
#