Ch: 199 Hung Up On You
The kids came spilling into the house like they were raiding the place, hugging anything that couldn’t get out of the way fast enough, searching for Becky, Gary and Shai.
They found all three in the grotto, already afloat and half dreaming in total exhaustion.
“Was all that just one day?” Gary groaned hoarsely. “I didn’t get much sleep last night…” He was interrupted by Wilf, plunging in to join them. Rio and Amy followed shortly after, they were’nt as adept at shucking their clothes.
The little family staggered out, still exhausted, but also ravenous, not long before full darkness fell over the former necropolis. They attacked the kitchen, devouring everything they could find, before returning to the cave by the waterfall.
Gary was feeling bloated and cranky when Emma, Hamish and Pangbourne cornered him in the kitchen, scrounging for sandwich fillings.
“Nope. I’m not doing anything with Skullderella until I’m ready. If you want another opinion, find another death cultist with a specialization in murdering the unkillable… I’ll wait.” He crossed his arms and stared down the three council observers and their escort with obstinate displeasure.
“I could lie and tell you I need to wait for the right phase of the moon or something… or you can just wait til I’m ready. All you goons saw Dannyl’s paintings… that’s what I have to face each time.”
“Paintings?” Pangbourne asked in mild curiosity.
“Ohhh…” Emma sighed, as realization spread. “I don’t want to watch… any of that.”
“Good choice.” Becky mumbled. “I wish I had seen less… He always winds up doing something gross.”
“Hey! It’s natural magic… you gotta get a little dirty if you wanna reshape reality.” He complained happily.
Before long, Gary and Shai disappeared into the grotto alone, sealing the door after themselves.
“Gary and Shai need some alone time…” Ivy sang, while intercepting the kids, en route to the grotto entrance. “They’ve got some stuff to work through…”
#
On the other side, Gary and Shai showed up late, really late. They were also flushed, strangely energized and exhausted, all at once. They hugged Angie, then stuck her and Becky with the kids, while they went to interrogate a few deities.
They stomped up to Brigid’s cozy, imposing, welcoming forge with gradually less aggressive attitudes than they had planned… It just felt wrong to bring a negative vibe into… “Damn it Brigid, stop with the ‘Queen Of The Fae’ act… we’re serious here.” Gary grumbled at the divine Forgemistress.
If a great lady of the summer court could look sheepish, she did.
“I told Morrigan her blessing and gift were too direct… She was always the wasp in a bridal bouquet; it looks fine, but inhale at your peril.” Brigid looked upset and embarrassed, not ashamed or regretful.
Morrigan seemed quite pleased with herself…selves… whatever. She was hopping on the roof tiles of the divine forge and chuckling in corvid amusement.
“What do you have to say for yourselves, Morrigan? It looks like you two made me into a weapon for your own purposes… How do you think I feel, now that I finally figured it out?”
The crow cackled a short burst of laughter and became Maiden, dressed like a very naughty catholic schoolgirl. “I assumed you would fly into a rage and create some kind of unpleasantness with the human pantheon… since we are in no way, the architects of this plot.”
In a sudden cloud of stray feathers, Matron appeared, wearing her long, sleek mourning attire. “We simply whetted your edges and gave you the tools you will need to thrive, not just survive.”
“We saw what the gods were plotting and added a little leavening to the dough…” Brigid muttered sourly. “The gods understand even less than we, what motivates mortals; their design proved that fact. They would have failed to offer you any hope in the end… we all know where that would probably lead. I gave you the fool’s blessing for that very reason.”
The naughty schoolgirl outfit was back, on Crone’s far less enticing form. “That is why you received the endless dance of death from me as well, my deliciously chaotic boy. You will find many finger smudges on your soul… only the spider and poor lost Marduk are truly innocent of meddling in your essence… well except for the ways they meddle in your essence all the time.” She mused prettily for a moment, stroking her chin the way Shai always did, when lost in thought.
“That’s different I suppose.”
“So Whose plan is this… am I?” He grumbled, while Shai hugged him silently and glared at the deities.
“Beast.” Both great ladies of the fae said in unison.
“Awww, man… I like Beast…” He whined sadly. “I can’t face that argument tonight. I’m going to sleep, you guys suck.” They vanished together, with very cranky sounding snores.
“They’re mad at somebody…” Amy cooed softly.
“I think Gary and Shai are going to be quite cross at a few of the pantheon. Not at you, my dears… They are mad because some of the gods played a nasty trick, but it was done some time ago.” Marduk explained gently.
“I doubt the timeline of the manipulation is any part of their concern…” Thirp’s voice was uncharacteristically tart and her fangs kept twitching in agitation.
#
Gary was up early, putting the finishing touches on a new ghost hive. The crocks were perfectly mundane, he bought them from Mikkel in a few sizes, a dozen at a time. They were all over the place, holding beads, small parts, semi precious stones and samples of various substances.
The lid was the enchanted part; he carefully inscribed his own name in a dozen different scripts and hieroglyphic forms and in dozens of languages each, on a disk of wet, white clay. Into the center, he pressed a ball of the same clay, mixed with his own blood, sweat and tears, creating a finger hold on the lid. With a satisfied smile, he slid it into a small conjured kiln.
While it was still just warm, he dropped the newly fired enchanted lid onto a fresh, clean crock, with a rim of his special beeswax waiting to seal the vessel. The lid melted gently into place, while he inscribed the last few runes into the hot wax with a silver stylus. He lay a twisted net of braided copper wire over the top, securing the lid and gently wove a secure net bag all around the vessel. He strung a wide leather strap through a few bronze rings knotted into the structure, slung it over his shoulder and smiled with satisfaction.
“Hmmm…” He murmured to his bloated shadow. “You guys are beyond ready… time to greet the sunrise.”
It took a lot of effort to drag his enormous shade into the first glimmerings of predawn. Out in the garden there still wasn’t enough space, he had to take it outside the wall, onto the greensward. Once in the open, his shadow sprawled out over a couple of moonlit acres, gently rippling and writhing like dark water reflecting starlight.
“Ohh yeah… that’s way too much.” He began digging through his storage gift, tossing musical instruments out into the shallow puddle of himself he was standing ankle deep in. “All right guys, time to pay the bills.”
Kazoo’s, penny whistles, tambourines, small drums, ukuleles, flutes and a few prototype harmonicas all splashed silently into the murky shallows and vanished.
Slowly, figures began to rise from the pool of shade, tall, short, thin or round the all held an instrument of some kind and began to play, while Gary directed them with Cab’s baton. Discordant at first, they began to come together, building into a simple, swaying cadence. He lifted his voice into the night sky, crooning to the owls and nightjars.
Stars shining bright above you,
Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’.
Birds singin' in the sycamore trees.
Dream a little dream of me…
More forms rose from the small lake of Gary’s shadow, small birds, bats, flying insects of all descriptions took wing from his shade, hurling themselves at the shining moon above.
Stars fading but I linger on, dear,
Still craving your kiss…
I'm longing to linger 'til dawn, dear,
Just saying this…
Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you,
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you…
Stolen story; please report.
#
Bright morning sunshine washed over the entire valley before he finished, winding down the music as his shadow gradually shrank back to normal proportions. “Oh… that feels wobbly…” He moaned gently to himself and promptly crumpled onto the lawn in a heap.
“Ok… I can work with this…” He mumbled from somewhere in the loose pile of limbs and rumpled clothes he had become.
After a heroic battle, he managed to get himself laid out in the sun in a more dignified position. Slipping out of his clothes to sunbathe a fresh shadow into his body was easier by far. “Dimensional storage Pockets! kick assss…” He sighed in the sunshine.
#
“They are victorious, the expedition is planning to rest on scene for a day, perhaps two, before returning to Wheatford.” Angie reported at breakfast. “I hesitate to speak further, your grace…”
“Angie my sweet, you don’t work for the council… what you learn is not council business, it is yours. What you choose to share is also yours to choose. If you wished to shout the whole sordid business in the market square, you would be within your rights.” Duchess Sheng said firmly. “Now I need more tea… shall I pour for you, Gunnar?”
Breakfast in the duchess’ quarters was a pleasant affair, brought up from the palace kitchens by the unobtrusive, almost invisible, Belen staff.
“They are mostly retired scouts and rangers…” Gunnar said softly, in answer to Jaspreet’s unasked question. “I hear that any layabout lords and ladies risk having their beds stealthily and securely made up around their sleeping forms… Though that is most likely only a rumor.”
The old butler stationed near the door may have smiled knowingly, behind his implacable mask of professional detachment.
“In that case, They have captured the entity involved, laid a number of undead to rest and are generally healthy and fine, but exhausted by their labors.” She answered the duchess after a long pause.
“I think he intends to bring the creature back to town before… whatever it is he does next...”
“What does that mean? It feels like there is some hidden truth here.” Lakshmi said quietly.
Angie shrugged eloquently and shook her head. “Everyone is evasive and uncomfortable when I bring it up, it seems to be something about those paintings.”
“Perhaps I can clarify, without spilling too much of the tea… It seems that somehow, they are able to put an end to beings that would typically be… highly resistant to endings. I witnessed the aftermath of their battle with some abominable slug demon, a few of them were quite unwell for a few days afterward. The results were extraordinary, but it took a lot out of some of them.”
Well controlled, reserved and dignified, Duke Rummel vanished, as Jules cracked a cheerful, boyish grin at Angie. “I hope I was evasive enough… not my secrets to tell!”
“You were very mealymouthed and obtuse, have no fear.” Duchess Sheng giggled and winked in a manner unbecoming a sober and thoughtful ruler, as suspicious and sly smiles began to spread through the room...
“Despite the chaos, misadventures and demons… this has been a splendid wedding festival, Duchess Mubarak.” Lakshmi’s voice dripped with amused and excited subtext and emotions, despite her bland smile and calm face. “We should do this again soon.”
“Perhaps we will…” Jaspreet murmured happily, watching the widowed duchess and the young duke wield their instruments together, still carelessly making sweet music without a care. “Abed, might we host the next ducal wedding that comes along?”
Duke Mubarak had a thick pile of neglected briefing documents on his lap, he nodded and smiled distractedly at his bride’s request. “Certainly my dearest… whatever you wish…” He stuck his nose back into the papers, smiling at the silliness of womenfolk.
“I’m sure that another state wedding will be coming along any day…” His mildly sarcastic and indulgent tone would have been obnoxious… were the other guests not distracted by how close the two musicians were sitting, as they played together.
#
A huge shadow fell over Gary about an hour after full sunrise, looming over him and snuffling. “Hey Annie… I’m fine, just kinda wrung dry and a bit worn out.” He murmured, face down in the grass. “I’ll be up and around soon. Ask Khan to bring me some coffee… and a muffin, I smell muffins.”
Fifteen minutes later, the three terrible toddlers bumbled over under Becky’s observation. They bore mugs, plates and a basket of muffins… Wisely, Becky carried the pitchers of scalding java and cocoa. “Oh yes… bless you my children… When I build a weather machine in a hollowed out volcano, you will be my favored minions…”
“Gary, you already have a moon base… that’s supervillainous enough for now.” Becky’s warmly mocking voice made everything better.
“Mmm…” He mumbled into the lawn, still face down, but wearing shorts now. “Need Shai in this scene and it’s perfect…”
“She’s seeing to our ‘guests’... they’re pretty upset about ‘missing the action’.” She grumbled softly. “I could do with less of that action… that thing was scary and so were you.”
“The whole ‘Shadow Of The Dead’ thing?” He asked sheepishly.
“Yeah, that was pretty spooky and scary. I thought your shadow was going to pop.” She poured coffee and cocoa, while Rio and Amy doled out muffins. Wilf was in charge of keeping his pants on like a big boy… That posed special challenges to his freedom loving soul.
“Shai says we should go with kilts… Whaddaya think, son?” He asked, rolling over and painfully sitting up.
“Regimental.” Wilford Brimley Ward said with finality.
“Really…” Gary asked with raised eyebrows and a silly smile. “Shai’s in the panty cult, you know…” Wilf just shrugged and shook his head.
“What does ‘regimental’ mean?” Becky asked, a confused frown on her face. “My translation gift says it means: ‘in the manner prescribed by the uniform of the regiment’. That makes no sense.”
“There’s two ways to wear a kilt, Becks. Regimental… and the wrong way.” He answered cryptically. “Wilford is a man of culture.”
“You’re weird.” Becky flopped back, with her head in his lap, Rio flopped his head into her lap… Amy landed on Rio and Wilford put his head on Amy’s. A comfy semicircle of Wards lay in the sunshine, half snoozing for a fair piece of the morning.
“Layabouts, all of thee! There’s chamber pots to scrub, indolent whelps!” Shai scolded gently, while wriggling into the cozy mess. “Ye left me tae listen tae the council folk complain… well, twas mostly sir Pangbourne. I dinnae think he kin see past common folks commonness wi ease…” Shai frowned at that strange twist of thought and sighed. “Now I do hae a headache.”
#
The shop bell over the door rang three times, softly chiming the hour, by the mad musician’s unconscious will. Ivy and Tawny looked out over the wide greensward, where the little family was still piled up in a sleepy heap.
“Should we wake them up?” The blonde mage asked quietly.
“They will get hungry and wake themselves soon… The lot of them are constantly ravenous.” Tawny mumbled with a gentle smile. “See, They are stirring already… grilled deathshead locust is always the answer.”
#
“The answer is still no. I won’t let her speak, not in my house, not here, without serious controls in place. I’m too tired to risk it. She’s had centuries in this place, plotting and scheming. Next time I chat with her, we’ll be far from any power or resources she can use.” He grinned happily, even though his eyes were still bagged and rheumy. “She seems like the ‘maximum damage on the way out’ type.”
“What does that mean? Speak plainly!” Pangbourne snapped impatiently.
“I mean, she would rather break the toys, rather than share even a little. As far as she is concerned, this is a game. If I kick her out of our world, she plans to hang around looking for a way back in for revenge…” He grinned madly at the handsome lord. “It might take years or even centuries, but immortals hold grudges really well.”
“Enough japes boy.” He grumbled. “You said smashing the ritual would cast it out… but if it will return, why not sink that skull in a deep bog and forget it forever? So what will you do, imprison it? Bury it? Drop it in the sea?”
“Nope, all those ‘solutions’ are temporary, immortals see centuries very differently than we do. I made that mistake once… I regret not handling Skrigg more… forcefully.”
“I dinnae regret that boy, neither should thee. Rocky will return that creature tae thee, an ye ask him. Tis nae undoing some acts, ye should be sure, ere ye do summat irrevocable.” She kissed his forehead and grinned at the sullen lord.
“That creature be well and truly imprisoned. This lad of mine holds her in his cupped hand; he need only decide tae make a fist tae end things fer her… ye may count on that, sir knight.”
“More unsupported claims and wild stories.” Pangbourne complained. “This was meant to be a fact finding mission, not… whatever this is.”
“No, this was a mission to uproot something vile, in what should be human lands. Mission accomplished.” Gary complained right back at him. “You are along to observe, which you did. Remember the giant skelly mech, with a zombie army from yesterday? A city’s worth of ghosts, a small platoon of shadow wights, a vampire, a crypt thing… what am I forgetting?” He paused and thought for a while, growing slowly more frustrated.
“I need some exercise, who’s up for a ride?” He shook himself all over, like a wet dog and strolled for the garden door.
Liam and Tawny were up for some sunshine, Winslow and Magnus were happy to oblige. Dannyl, Tallum and Ivy came along, the giant smith riding Annie.
Sirs Hamish and Pangbourne came along, with Rolf in tow. Francis was intent on ‘supervising’ the madman and his team, while Rolf and Hamish were there to supervise the two knuckleheads and prevent them from murdering each other.
Dannyl took Sandi out of the stable and saddled her for Ivy, since he planned to ride the stick horse Gary had built for him. “I’ve never ridden this thing outside the skate park…” He said with an excited grin. “I wonder how fast it goes…”
#
“It goes too fast…” Danyl complained, while Tallum and Gary helped him out of a bramble patch. His bike had hung itself up in the berry canes a few yards back, while the boy was suspended hilariously in the midst of an overgrown bush. Like an armored spider caught in its own web, he dangled helplessly awaiting rescue and verbal abuse.
“We could leave him there til we head back…” Gary offered. “Like bait… in case there’s another centipede.”
“Shut up and keep working.” Liam ordered, with long suffering glances at the knights.
“I’m just saying, he can’t draw rude pictures of people, with his hands tangled in thorny vines…” His bronze Contract machete snipped through the vines with ease, while he made ever more elaborate excuses.
“That is a compelling argument…” Tallum rumbled, while his billhook sheared a path through to the Adventurer marionette hung up on display in the bushes.
While the boys worked to free their brother, Ivy was experimenting on his stick horse. She gently rolled up the smooth strip of road Dannyl had been risk taking on, enjoying safe, sensible thrills on the strange device. “I want one of these Gary… I still don’t see how the balancing magic works.”
“It’s not balance magic, it’s the magic of balance… and your boy toy is one hell of a machinist. Well balanced, low mass wheels and low resistance axles would have been impossible, or at least years away for me.” He chattered, while manifesting his Contract as a set of garden nippers, for cutting the thick, thorny briars entangling the armored artist.
After a few more careful snips, Tallum caught the falling boy with a hearty laugh. “We should have left you there and sent the girls berry picking!” The giant smith held Danyl aloft, while Gary snipped off the last few clinging vines.
“There you go, let that be a lesson to you: Speed Kills! Just be glad you were wearing armor, those thorns looked nasty.” Gary’s smug superiority melted rapidly once they got back underway, on their planned route around the now empty ruins.
“Still feel like I’m forgetting something. A ghost? Nahh…” He murmured to himself as he rode. “Not a ghost… Ghost. Pottery, sexy girls… Patrick Swayze? Demi Moore? Demi lich! That’s it, there’s a demi lich somewhere around here, Marceline tipped me off to it!” He crowed in victory, waving both hands above his head like he should be receiving a yellow shirt.
“He’s excited about an undead abomination lurking nearby…” Hamish muttered.
“Hey! It’ll be nice to fight a straight up evil wizard, determined to unlock the secrets of immortality and gain the power to shun death.” He scolded the knight. “So far an uncomfortable proportion of your outsiders have been innocent victims.” He grumbled good naturedly.
“Not Dome-onique the skull demon, she sucks, but several have just been people sucked here from other worlds.”
Half an hour later, he sat up on his saddle like a dog that smelt bacon. “Undead aura, in the woods a half mile or so off.” He whispered over his collar button. “It’s immobile and very tightly contained, like a haunted building. Let’s pull back and take care of this tomorrow.”
“We’re only four miles from the house… are you comfortable leaving it overnight?” Liam asked quietly.
“Oh yeah, it’s strong, stronger than Marceline by a mile, nothing close to the demon though.” He flashed his crooked, half mad smile, but he looked exhausted.
“It feels odd, I don’t sense any subservient undead… the folklore suggests they always have those. I wanna come at this fresh… Just look at my poor shadow.”
It was a sad and wispy thing, pale and thin, even while Liam’s own was clear and dark under the afternoon sun.
Liam relayed a report back home, his orderly and disciplined mind fell into the clear, crisp speech required by the devices and delighted in the pure utility of the things. Pure practicality was the difference between life and death in a combat situa… His ruminations were cut off by Shai’s voice over the communications device.
“Gary me love, Amy does contemplate a summer dress in yellow fer the warm season… T’would be darling, methinks.”
“Yeah… I’ll get right on that… like a sunflower yellow muslin…” Gary replied. “Or maybe batik dyed into a sunflower! Yeah!” He sounded excited by the idea at least.
“Gary, Shai… please get off my comms while we are on patrol…” Liam said sweetly. “Bloody mooncalves the both of them, really… I wonder sometimes…” Their team leader pretended that it was a hot mic moment… while chewing them out on an open channel.
The effect was only slightly ruined by the fact that Gary was right there on his bike; while Liam called him a ‘rainbow chasing manchild with delusions of normalcy’. That stung, but also made him smile.
“I love you too bro.” He announced, to the group chat.
#