Ch: 39 The Skinniest Dip
When Gary arrived in his other home, he could feel the god of Beasts outside the gate; still exuding eternal patience and a sense of immediate motion.
The screen was set up, and he was watching Gary’s memories of a nature docco, narrated by that british dude. ‘He seems keenly interested in the mating practices…’ A voice like birdsong and jungle insects said softly in his ear.
“Beast?” Gary asked, looking around curiously.
‘Yes, We asked brother Marduk and master Thirp to withdraw, so that We might speak to you directly. They were kind enough to oblige.’
Despite all reports that he was a he, Beast’s voice was impossible to assign a gender. ‘We believe they are in your bath at the moment, letting its chaotic energies carry their essence away.’
They sighed in the soft hoots of night birds, carrying a feeling of immense exhaustion. ‘We think that would feel wonderful.’
“You are welcome to join them… if that is possible.” He said, trying for a conciliatory tone.
“If you were to accept a familiar Contract with us, We could speak more directly, but entering your domain is impossible for us. Sadly, We feel you will not be Contracting with us any time soon, if at all.’ Night birds sighed musically in his ear again, sounding perhaps a little hopeful at the end.
‘You draw ever closer to the human world, as is proper. If you should desire one of our children to accompany you, We have a few volunteers.’ They whispered, slowly drawing back into the nothing beyond his tiny realm.
‘Even an outworld demigoddess, she is a distant relative from another reality. We believe you met briefly.’ They chuckled from the ever increasing distance that wasn’t. ‘Primarily, We came to thank you for aiding our brother, We are incomplete as long as he is incomplete. Thank you human child. We will repay this debt.’
Gary went into the bath and joined his friends in the ‘water’. “Thirp, you jacked my neck up honey. I can laugh about it now, but that sucked. Ducky, sorry about last time, I got something stuck in my head and it won’t quite come out yet.” He said, scritching Thirp on her cephalothorax.
“I sense that is not the whole of the truth Gary, but I will not press you on this. Sweet sister Joy suggests you may have been given the fool’s blessing by one of the queens of the Fae. That would explain many of your more… idiosyncratic gifts and behaviors.” He said, concern twisting his brows, making him look even younger.
“Such meddling is unpredictable, they are deeply strange creatures… Stop smiling at me that way Gary Ward, I have been hugged enough lately thank you.”
“Sorry Ducky, you’re adorable when you worry about me.” Gary said, while Shai scooped the tiny god up in an inescapable embrace. “Shai, Becks, how’s the waking world?” He asked as they joined the party.
“Exhausting, some weirdo from the ducal tax assessor came by, how they figured out we were back in town so fast, I dunno.”
“Someone really wants me to meet the tax assessor, they aren’t subtle about it either. Tell me about ‘em.” Gary said, sinking down low.
“Brown robes from head to toe, really loose too. They wore a veil and hood. Their voice was hard to place, it could be anybody under those robes.” She said, looking dissatisfied.
“What did your aura sense tell you?” He probed, hoping for some tid bit.
“Nothing, they were probably using some aura masking gift or enchantment. They were just nowhere.” She frowned. “They wanted to come here at first bell, I said no. The best I could do was to have you meet them in the first floor conference room at the orphanage at third bell.”
“Good work Becks, thanks. Shai stop mauling Ducky and come maul me.” He said with a saucy grin. She swam over in a mock fury, leaving his grateful deity to recover his dignity.
“Fie, ye did go naptime ‘ere we even finished unpacking, lazy man o mine!” She grumbled, slipping into his lap with a smile. “Annie, Luna an Khan do love their quarters, an Tawny wishes tae stable Winslow wi us, since War’s cult do run the main stable, Tawny kinnae abide their auras.”
“We couldn’t separate Annie from her boy toy now could we?” He said, silly, sweet and delighted at his own idiocy, as usual. “I am going to be busy with the tax… whatever tomorrow, could one of you go over to the miners and excavator’s guild and get me a quote? Tallum has the designs.”
“Be this yer mysterious Garage Operation: Band?” Shai asked archly, disapproving already and drawing only an amused smile from her fool.
Becky sighed. “I tried to explain it, but I don’t really understand. Everything I read about it in your memory was from something called Rolling Stones magazine. I don’t really get it.”
Gary grinned and relaxed back with his sister, god, mate and spider therapist to tell a strange tale.
“Once upon a time, there was a place where they told children they could grow up to be anything, even the leader of their country, like a king… And it was true, in a way. But if any one can rise to leadership, that’s meaningless without opportunities to learn and grow into whole people who can lead.” He smiled sadly as he spoke.
“So they came up with an idea, a one size fits all education system. Everyone learns to read, math, history and scien… magic to a basic level as children. Rich or poor, without regard for class or the color of one’s skin. A beautiful dream, one I’d like to make come true… if I can.”
A hard gleam came into his eye, replacing the dewy optimism he’d just displayed. “But in every pool, someone is going to piss. Some people.. Mostly rich people, thought other people and their kids to be inferior. They were too poor or the wrong skin color to have the same opportunities they and theirs enjoyed.”
He grumbled sourly now, lost in his story. “Those people wanted to push everyone into their tiny boxes, they wanted to decide who becomes what, who learns what. They even wanted to decide who is and is not a legal human being… as though being a person could be against the law!” He scoffed angrily, while his audience looked confused.
“Because of our education system, among other reasons, people started to come to my homeland looking for a better life for their kids…” He shrugged. “Those same rich people saw new people, with new perspectives as an opportunity and a threat. They started passing laws about ‘legal status’ and squealing about the usual things people with money think are important.”
“What do you mean by that Gary…? Your culture is very opaque to us.” Thirp said gently.
“They got all bitchy about stupid shit… Lines in the dirt and who owns what, who gets to exploit these new, vulnerable residents and how… Just like you guys are trying to do to me.” He grumbled angrily.
“If you teach a child to dream of the moon and stars, it gets harder to keep them in the mud. If you let them dream and chase what they want, they will run faster and farther than you could ever suspect.” He leaned back with an exhausted smile.
“Taste freedom just once and good luck keeping this bullshit program going. I'm training rebels, with the most dangerous weapons around. My task, for the next… until I die, is to break your immoral system of child slavery with the biggest hammer I can find. Knowledge, Freedom and Music. Those are all big ass hammers. Guess which one I’m using first?”
“Ooo, being a subversive rebel leader is exhausting, I might be drif…”
As Gary vanished into normal sleep, Shai turned to Becky. “Aye, ye had best show me this ‘Punk Rock’ silliness… tis undanceable tae mine ear.”
“The subversive elements of late psychedelic rock and early heavy metal, might be a better introduction…” Thirp sang. “I believe it would be best to begin with an overview of early american folk music, as it relates to Gary’s particular cultural…” Professor Thirp’s lecture became hypnotic, the cadence of her harp lulling the two into a state of mental relaxation.
In a timeless domain between reality and dreams, where the observer is entirely in a mental and spiritual state, certain fundamental ideas become more malleable.
Other laws remain immutable, Becky and Shai woke late, feeling awful and lied to each other that the other looked ‘just fine’ and ‘not at all exhausted’.
That lie survived until they looked in the mirror cabinet downstairs and glared at each other crankily. “My head feels like it’s filled with moldy bread.” Becky griped.
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“I hae the taste o Tallum’s old boot in me teeth and me eyes will nae uncross. Thirp be a diligent instructor and a right vicious monster.” They staggered to the bath and tried to right themselves and face the day.
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Third bell was still ringing when Gary entered the conference room. Unsurprisingly, there was nobody there; dominance games were universal too.
Gary put a stool down in an isolated corner and made himself super boring, by limbering up his magical gifts and dominating the space with his subtle, sneaking aura.
Waiting did not have to be boring though, he took a small book out and began reading eagerly. Alchemy held important clues to any number of more advanced skills in his increasingly well ordered skill tree. He had been putting it off, since the guild in Wheatford was not a serious trade hall.
They had their few formulas that worked, a few soaps, cosmetics and perfumes. Muktar was a pleasant and kind man, but not ambitious or curious.
This slim book held what he needed, and the clues to unlock deeper secrets later on. Besides, brewing and distilling would make his inn more self sufficient. ‘When did I decide it was an inn?’ He wondered, while a tall, brown robed figure glided into the room.
The figure entered, paused, then exited into the hallway, turned back and forth twice and began to move away.
Late to your own meeting,
nary a word in greeting.
Almost as though I wasn’t
supposed to show.
Gary sang, strumming a soft tune on a ukulele. “You wanted to see me so badly, here I am.” He continued strumming and plucking his tiny instrument and swaying on his stool.
“What has you so interested in a poor little orphan and his one man craft hall? More importantly, what has his nibs the duke so determined to stop me from working my trade?”
They swept back around, their featureless brown veil revealing nothing. “Production of objects and administration of craft is regulated by the cult of Craft. This is a tax issue. All craft halls within the domain must register with the ducal tax office before selling or auctioning any products.”
The person’s voice was genderless, smooth and educated with no discernible accent or any inflection to their speech. The strange being sounded coolly uninterested and very soft spoken.
“So I need to fill out some forms? Pay some fees?” Gary mused, still softly playing.
“In this case, you will be taken into fosterage at the temple of Order, in the capital. Come with me. We depart immediately.” The person said, turning as though expecting him to follow. Potent webs of magical compulsion tangled with Gary’s active gifts, creating a foul soup of wrestling Will and Mind.
“No.” Gary continued playing, something mellow and tropical. “I stay here. If you want something, come to my shop, but nobody is taking anyone anywhere.”
He lit into a bouncy bluegrass number after a quick switch to the banjo; its volume and twang made the room seem very small.
That helped him cut through the witchcraft attempting to befuddle his mind, with silken threads of coaxing magic and influence.
Gary hopped off his stool with a happy grin, picking up the pace, if not the volume of his tune. “Now tell me what this is really about. Why is the duke even aware that I exist?”
“It is irrelevant whether the duke is aware of your existence, your duty is to contribute to a greater good. Come with me.” They said, still calm and smooth. The figure’s magic was strange, soothing and calm, but alien.
“No.” His banjo became more strident, hammering a solid beat with his thumb while plucking a storm of notes into the already thick atmosphere.
“I am still not going anywhere. Tell me what you are really after.” He demanded, his voice snapping like a whip.
“Your resistance will be short lived and pointless. Submit and you will be aiding a work greater than you know. A special destiny only a very few can achieve awaits you.” They cooed.
Soothing waves of calming energy radiated from the robed figure, plucking at his mind with soft whispers in a thousand almost familiar voices.
“Come now, you are already under my power, follow and your struggles and trials will be eased. You will achieve a form of immortality through this work.”
A robed arm extended, the cloth still concealing everything within. “Come with me and achieve great things on a scale you cannot imagine.” They said soothingly.
“Resist, and you shall be destroyed. I sense that at least two others have touched this void in the ether that you are. They will serve, if you will not.”
Gary’s banjo became much louder and more percussive. “Stop that noise, you will obey and come quietly now. I command it by the laws of human kind.”
“Nope,” Gary barked. “I’m not dancing to your tune, you will be dancing to mine.” He smiled wide and happily. “A friend warned me that you assholes were skulking about, she really wants me to give you a hard time.”
He switched for his trusty guitar, transitioning without dropping the beat. “While you have been putting me under your spell, I have been putting you under mine.”
“Do you like my instrument?” He asked, playing a strident and aggressive chord. “The butterscotch yellow color is traditional you know… if you are going to build a face melting teleblaster, it has got to be butterscotch.”
He made his instrument wail like a lost soul, while continuing on in a calm and soothing voice. “My people have a saying, ‘Toan is Stored in the Balls.’ Shall we see who’s mojo is rising?”
He looked down to the hem of the creature’s robe, where a subtle tapping was going on. “Looks like I win. Now you get to follow me.”
Out in the bath, Becky and Shai were still recovering. “An I never hear ‘distortion’ and ‘metal zone’ again I shall be most pleased. Tis still neigh undanceable.” Shai complained.
Moments later, the wail of Gary’s guitar lifted the hairs on every neck in the compound, while his voice growled out horrible lyrics.
I walk 47 miles of barbed wire,
I use a cobra-snake for a necktie,
I got a brand new house on the roadside,
Made from rattlesnake hide,
I got a brand new chimney made on top,
Made out of a human skull,
Now come on take a walk with me, darlin,
And tell me, who do you love?
“Sweet gods and spirits, wha hae he done now?” Shai asked as they struggled into robes.
He was dancing and playing loud and aggressive chords with a furious beat. A tall, brown robed figure strode before him, dancing and gliding along, as he lashed them with his gift mercilessly.
“Get Otho and Tony!” He barked between bars. “Ivy, DRUMS!” Gary’s beat faltered for a moment, allowing his prisoner to turn to face him, before he reasserted control, with a bass groove from Tallum.
With sonic backup on the way, Gary dug deeper, hooking his gifts into the being more savagely than he had ever dared before. It was time to play dirty, time for Rob Zombie.
Dead I am the one, exterminatin' son
Slippin' through the trees, stranglin' the breeze
Dead I am the sky, watchin' angels cry
While they slowly turn, conquering the worm…
‘Dragula’ was no fair, all driving beat and vicious hooks. The entity trembled and twitched, unable to keep up with the fast flying ‘Hellbilly’ insanity it was wrapped in. When Ivy’s drum hit the mix it was all over.
Becky dashed off to find Otho, only to dash back when her robe evaporated at the boundary of the home. “Keep playing Gary, I’m getting dressed!” She yelled while scrambling inside for clothes.
Shai produced her violin and joined the music, adding her gift to Gary’s, entangling the alien magics surrounding the robed person with her own gifts and compulsions. “Ye had best have reason, this be a tax assessor ye do toy with my love.” Shai called over the ruckus, while Becky flew out the door and shot away in a clattering blur of beads, braids and flying feet.
A few minutes and three hard rocking tracks later, Otho and justiciar Thelonius entered the compound, harried and rushed along by Becky.
“Be calm child, we will resolve this matter… Dear gods, Gary! Release that person immediately!” The priest shouted when he saw the scene.
“No can do, Otho.” He gasped, thrusting his pelvis suggestively while grinding his buttocks together, as one does. “This fucker wants my sweet ass, that belongs to Shai until further notice.” Gary sang, Hammering out the solo from ‘Man On The Silver Mountain’, his instrument carrying his ‘lyrics’ far and wide.
The figure remained rigid, staggering slowly to the garden gate, clearly against their will.
“Hostile actions against ducal officials is a crime Gary, I must intervene.” Tony said sadly, drawing a heavy truncheon from his belt. “Please stop your gifts and release this spell. I do not wish to hurt you.” He said, while advancing.
“Ducal officers are all well and good, Tony…” Gary said, backpedaling through the gate after his prisoner. “This guy is something else though.”
“No one has been injured yet, we can unwind this trouble Gary!” Otho called. “Shai, Ivy, you know the gravity of this matter, stop him!”
They just kept playing, wrapped up and carried away by Gary and Shai almost as much as the brown clad figure, still lurching through the garden.
“Gary!” Tawny’s golden voice was harsh and brassy this morning. “You stop that!” She stomped up, waving her wand dangerously. “I am very cross with you!”
“Get in line Tawny, if I’m wrong, lots of people are gonna be queued up for a kick at my sack.” He laughed wildly and lit into a screaming solo. “If I’m wrong maybe they’ll sell me into slavery.”
“Justiciar, this entity is a monster, masquerading as a human, I order you to destroy it and any of its confederates that attempt to interfere. This is the law of mankind.” The figure said, their voice still cool and passionless.
Tony dropped his cudgel and drew his sword, flicking the massive weapon side to side in agitation. “I will judge who does and does not meet my blade.” Tony said coldly, though he kept advancing on Gary.
“That’s right Tony,” Gary said with a grin, as he backed farther into the garden. “I’m not normal, but I think this guy is something way worse. You know me, you know Shai. Do you know this one? There is some shady shit going on, and I don’t fancy being served up to an undisclosed fate by some bozo in a bathrobe.”
“All ducal tax officers are anonymous in their robes of office Gary. My own mother could be under that robe and I would not know. Release them and we can solve this without violence”
Tony was ahead of the pack, prowling forward looking dangerous, but his band was still playing.
Tallum looked like he was desperately trying to stop, but Ivy was rock solid. She kept the pressure on, freeing Gary to do a little fast talking over his fast picking.
The whole mob was slowly pursuing him and his prisoner, most, not realizing they were also in many ways in his thrall.
“Tell them what your plan was, about my ‘great destiny of service’ or whatever that shit was.” Gary barked at his slow moving opponent.
“Very well. This creature… and those two,” They raised a sleeve shrouded arm, to point at Becky and Shai. “are to be taken to the temple of Order in the capital or destroyed, if they cannot be used for the greater good. This is the law, capture them or destroy them it does not matter which.”
Tony balked there. “That is no part of the law. You overstep your authority to command that.” He snapped at the figure. “Gary, your opportunity to explain yourself is fading.”
“I can’t really explain, since it’s complicated and I don't want to… how about this instead?” With a quick leap, Gary shoved the tall figure off the curb and into the steaming public bath.
The brown robed figure stood up from the water, its veil already beginning to dissolve in the energetic swirling chaos. “You are commanded to destroy them…” They said, voice fading away to a bubbling, inhuman croak at the end.
It stood silent and rigid, as its garments fell away, revealing a tangled mass of slowly writhing human arms. Male, female, indeterminate, in any number of uniformly unhealthy skin tones, they writhed and lashed in agitation.
As they watched aghast, the limbs began to release their grips on each other, floating away and dissolving in the pool, one after another.
Tony, Otho and the others watched in horror, the music falling silent as the nightmare construct disassembled itself one undead, disembodied limb at a time…
Soon, only a small core of tangled, grasping hands and forearms remained, furiously grabbing at something in their center.
With a slowly spreading expression of horror and a mindless roar of fury, Gary leapt into the pool, tearing into the creature. He bit, clawed and savaged the thing like an enraged animal, as his clothes and guitar crumbled away. He bashed and ripped at the ball of flesh, breaking fingers and hurling mangled hands across the pool. With a grip on several squirming digits, he bit a thick palmed, hairy fist and ripped chunks of meat from it with his teeth until it fell away, white bone showing, as it dissolved.
Naked and furious, Gary climbed out of the pool, hurling the last twitching, mangled hand in to boil away to nothing; looking for all the world like a spider, with all its legs ripped away or broken. “Tawny, get over here!” He shouted, clutching a tiny, bleeding form to his chest.
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