Book 2: Dirt Diver’s Dance
Blues Traveller Ch: 18
Ghnash woke in the middle of the day, while the ghost storm was still raging. The thunder that woke him came from inside the house, though. He raged a little bit himself, since they knew he was nocturnal; but it must be important if they called him with the drums.
He opened the closet and stepped inside, onto his hall of painted bone and rawhide faces. A small crowd of variations on his own face stared back at him from the painted skins.
“What’s going on?” He asked groggily, pawing at his own face and yawning.
“Woah! I love the new look, Ghnash!” The Tower called out cheerfully from the far corner. “What happened? You find a dentist and a manicurist?”
“No, I found SpiderBoobs…” He grumbled. “She’s transformative and jiggly in some really surprising ways. Did you wake me up to ask that?”
“We wanted you to know, we’re pressing the cult pretty hard, they might get active in your area.” The Wheel of Fortune interrupted, rattling so vigorously that he nearly fell off his hook.
“We just smushed some. I have prisoners, all cultists and true believers; I have their pet demon trapped in my flute. Send the snake man to me, when you see him next.” He yawned. “My princesses are making my life too easy.”
“That’s what I was hoping to ask you about…” The Chariot whispered eagerly. “I’d like to ask for your help with finding someone, on a primary, closed world.”
“You know I can’t pass the veil… You want my daughters.” He muttered harshly. “They’re brave and fierce… and mine.” He answered coldly.
“It’s not a hostile world, it’s a peaceful place of men, woodlands and wilderness.” Wheel of Fortune began.
“All worlds of men are hostile to goblins.” He snapped. “My neighbors remain peaceful because they fear me and my daughters… and because they wish to keep our trade.”
“Temperance… Please, I simply wish their aid in finding a person, a mage artisan of skill and cunning. It may even be one of us.”
“Don’t call me That! I’m Ghnash’Wharrgh, goblin king and witch of the forests.” He grumbled. “Speaking of, I may have just found another of us, perhaps the Prince of Coins? I’m not sure. He’s new and confused. A dwarf… of all things.” The king chuckled and smiled without hurting himself, which further improved his mood.
“Perhaps he knows something. I will speak to him tonight, though you would still be better off with the Star or the Hermit.”
“They are both engaged at the moment.” Judgment answered sharply. “I go to join them soon.”
“I wish I could join your battle brothers…” The king sighed softly. “I must wait for them to come to me. What of the man with the borrowed snake? He is widely traveled in the void.”
“He appears when and where he can, brothers, he operates under his own strictures and laws.” Judgment said firmly. “One of those is secrecy, let us say no more, lest we cause troubles where we need none.”
#
“So this is what you’re doing all day?” Amy asked Ward, with deep disapproval in her tone but a twinkle in her eyes.
He was in the private bath under the rain tarp, soaking with Willow and a few others, watching the storm slowly blow itself out.
Fortunately, the ladies were in their human guises, crafted of glamor and moonlight… mostly. There was still a mantis and a green walking stick floating around limply, looking exhausted.
Ward sat there smiling very smugly and nodded. “Yup. This storm is just magical enough that I’m temporarily stuck here in a glamour body… with my fair damsels, who are similarly inconvenienced.” He smiled widely and chuckled as if at a private joke.
“This is only a fraction of me though. We’re all multifarious and deeply mysterious; I’m still up to no good elsewhere in the vast and unguessable expanse of everything, as are my sweet leafy ladies.” He sighed.
“Where’s Fig hiding, uncle pervert?” Becky asked sweetly, while throwing a wet sponge at his smiling face. It splattered across his wide, innocent eyes and fell off into the pool; leaving the grinning demigod unperturbed.
A moment later, the floating sponge rose up from the water’s surface, atop the dark haired scalp of Fig, as she emerged from the depths, smiling sweetly and licking her perfect, pink lips.
“That’s despicable, just because you aren’t mortal anymore doesn’t mean you get to be gross.” Amy sighed at her incorrigible uncle and wicked auntie Fig; who answered with only the wide, glorious smile on her chubby cheeks.
“Give it up, girls. As spiritual beings, they are probably pretty high right now.” Harry muttered from the covered porch.
“The magical frequencies roiling in this storm are very life affirming and… procreative. Our living auras block most of it out, but every tree this wind blows through is going to get its leaves rustled. We’re in a heavily cultivated and forested valley… So many orchards.”
“So, they’re going to be like this for a while?” Amy asked, while trying to not notice what was going on in the dryad corner of the bath.
“For as long as we can manage…” Fig cheered from the front of the latest flotilla of dryads, as they maneuvered to sink the Hms Ward, with their bountiful charms.
“Run along… We’re about to… start discussing high level, divine business, kids…” Ward lied; and poorly at that.
#
Daisybelle watched the boy cook in his kitchen, dealing with the oversized stove and weirdly shaped furniture as best he could. He moved through the space with long familiarity, working with smooth and careful precision, much the way he played his toilet shovel.
He was just finishing up and setting a vast feast on the too tall dining table of the strange, giant sized, but otherwise beautiful house, when a knock at the door interrupted them.
“King papa! Welcome!” She chirped and chittered, while dragging her father inside, just a moment after the boy answered the door.
The king gawped at the place for a few seconds, taking in the sleek, well crafted lines of the place and the real glass windows. Colorful paper lanterns glowed from the rafters and everything felt welcoming, natural and sublimely comfortable… with a few exceptions of note.
“Too-tall furniture…” He complained when he joined them at the table, hopping up onto one of the absurd chairs. They were comfy, as long as a gobb didn’t mind his feet swinging free above the floor.
The meal set on the table was a different matter entirely. There were meat pies, loaves of crusty bread, a bright yellow, spicy vegetable stew and bowls of steaming white rice.
A salad bowl of mountain herbs, quartered tomatoes and shredded cabbage dressed with sweet, slightly tangy and salty condiment sat beside a heap of glistening white steamed buns that smelled of barbecue pork and sweet spices.
“Gandree’s making dwarf foods!” She cheered merrily. “It’s tasty, but weird! Sal-ad with sweet miso dressing? The bread has meat inside!”
“Actually, most of these are human dishes… dwarf cuisine begins and ends at meat pies.” He sighed happily. “The clanlord and craft masters made me their full time cook, but would never try any of these things. Just pasties and meat pies, the buncha boring empty beards…”
His voice fell to a soft grumble at the end, as he contemplated the past.
“Rice… pork buns… a salad? Maybe I will take him away from you Daze…” The king muttered, as he began filling a plate from the table’s bounty. “We can’t even get rice from the human town!”
“Gandree boy is from the old mountain pass gate. We came from the other side.” Daisy mumbled around a mouthful of fluffy, white, pork bun. “This is good!”
“You came through? Through the void maw?” The king asked calmly, but with a suddenly keen gleam in his eyes.
“Uh, the awful dark place with chattering, whispering voices of madness and the ever watchful, eternal cloud of ominous, eldritch vapor…?” Gandree asked quietly.
“Yup. That’s it!” Daze cheered, while tearing into a beef and onion pie. “Spooky, but not too spooky.”
“Spooky enough…” The dwarf grumbled sourly. “Didn’t even warn me first.”
“It’s easier that way… The longshanks use silly mushroom drugs and convince themselves it’s all a dream.” She sniffed with disdain at the idea.
“Humans are silly and ignorant savages.” The king agreed heartily. “Adventurers are the worst of the lot. That’s why we have forbiddance spells cast at all the known entrances to our home.” He growled softly.
“Goblin men are too dumb and cowardly to slip through the void, their animal instincts drive them away even if the entrance isn’t sealed.” The king explained between bites.
“Ogres and trolls are rather good at sniffing out unblocked voids and slipping through, often with a gang of goblin slaves behind them… Which always brings Adventurers, eventually.” He paused and smiled in pure delight.
“Nothing tastes like my own blood… Praise to sweet goddess SpiderBoobs, I love having normal teeth!”
Daisybelle smiled at her gleeful papa and sighed. “Goddess SmielyFace is coming closer to me every night, I feel her approach.” The slim and curvacious goblin lass shoveled a huge wedge of golden, crusty goodness into her mouth and almost moaned with pleasure when she learned the joys of a hot, fresh, mountain blueberry pie.
“Gandree boy should carve another idol! I wanna kiss her again.”
“I still have to give that little god his offering…” The lad mumbled happily from behind a massive plate of his own. “He demanded honeyed dumplings with pistachios, mint tea and almond cakes.” He smiled thoughtfully for a moment.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“Sounds like afternoon tea. I wonder what the spider goddess wants…”
#
“Amy! I can’t wear that!” Lindsey gasped in shock at the tiny thing her frenemy was threatening her with.
“There’s nothing to it at all! What if he saw?!”
“That’s the trick, let him steal a glimpse of what you’re wearing under there, or better yet; let him get a sneaky feel for what you’re not wearing under there and he will be putty in your hands!” Amy gasped delightedly.
“Are you…” She spoke very carefully and earnestly to her weird new confidante, striving for maximum clarity. “Are you trying to convert me to the panty cult?”
“Oh, sweetie… Thirp kissed you already, she is just waiting for you to be ready for her.” The smiling cherub whispered, while holding up the impossibly skimpy strands of lace and silk. “You’re just trying on the cult regalia, that’s all.”
“I find it worrisome that your father made these… garments for me… That is more than a little troubling.” Lindsey sighed sadly. “I’m feeling…”
“Pressure?” Amy asked, sitting down beside her with the flimsy ‘undergarments’ on her lap. “No one is seriously going to push you into anything… certainly not my dad.”
“But he made… those… and all the others… for me, to my exact measures.” She sobbed. “That’s terrifying!”
“Oh, baby!” Amy folded the much taller girl into a hug and rocked her a little. “My papa’s cursed, you know? He’s a born artisan and musician; that’s who he is… His curse sets all those things, the things that keep him sane just beyond his reach.”
“That sounds terrible… is that why he’s so… awful?” She sobbed in Amy’s shoulder, snotty and weeping. “I see so much of him in Barry too… and that scares me sometimes.”
“My dad needs desperately to use those skills, arts and gifts, or he’ll go mad; in order to use his gifts without dying, his familiar has to poison him with her venom… that makes him really loopy and weird. Remember the party?”
She shushed her sobbing friend gently and rocked the bigger girl for a minute or two before continuing.
“Kree’s sting leaves him incredibly open to suggestion and deeply silly, while unleashing his creativity and crafts. He mostly follows the callings of his own subconscious mind, but he has been touched by several gods.”
“Gods?” She moaned. “Him? But he’s terrible and wrong inside!”
“Dana, the Healer is not one of the deities that have touched him.” Amy answered firmly. “She hates him for reasons I can’t explain here. Just accept that and move on.”
Lindsey burbled something that sounded positive from somewhere in Amy’s soggy and gross shoulder.
The smaller girl took that for an answer and continued. “Sometimes, when he’s working in the basement, my papa becomes a vessel for the Will of the gods and does things that he doesn’t fully understand or remember.” Amy blushed a little, her dark cheeks purpled as she smiled fondly.
“Lady Thip, She Who Spins Between Worlds, is really a close friend, like super close. He makes my undies too; and when Thirp is too near, things get decidedly sexy.”
“I didn’t want to ask…” Lindsey whispered. “I mean, yours are the same…”
“Papa gets super embarrassed when he does my laundry.” She giggled, drawing a soft chuckle from her bosom buddy.
“It’s hilarious ‘cause deep inside, he’s a complete prude.”
“Really?” She asked softly, from the stained shoulder of what had been a nice cotton shift. “He’s not a crazy sexpest…?”
“Not unless you’re my mom… Those two are disgusting together.” Amy sighed fondly. “I wanna find what they have; someday… Like you might have just found, sister.”
Lindsey blushed and started squirming in Amy’s embrace. “We’ve only just met…” She sputtered. “I don’t even hardly know him…”
“Uh huh…” Amy murmured. “What does your horsie think? He’s a part of you and knows you better than you know yourself.”
“Flash? He loves all of you Wards… even the tall, scary man in black!” Lindsey mumbled, as she wriggled out of her soggy, tearstained shift.
“Ward is a special case…” Amy murmured. “He is a crazy sexpest, but only when it comes to immortals. He’s awfully shy when he’s on his own; it’s almost sad how awkward and hopeless he is without one of us nearby.”
Lindsey fell silent just long enough for the exuberant giggling, splashing and Ward’s voice, from the baths outside to be heard over the slowly dying storm.
“...Wait, let’s try that again but this time I’ll use my thumb to…”
Amy took up her guitar and began to strum something soft and moody, while Lindsey smiled smugly at her. “Yes, he sounds terribly shy.”
“Yes, he really is… but sometimes we find ourselves outside our comfort zone as if drawn there by magic.” Amy said, sounding rather smug herself.
“Kinda like the way you dressed your own sweet self up in that little outfit…” She giggled. “Take a spin so I can admire the effect.”
The poor girl looked down at her body and blushed several colors, from several locations at once. Pale pink lace and tiny blue roses hid almost nothing, while silk and soft satin caressed… everything in a way that was almost intolerably sexy.
“I can’t believe you bewitched me into wearing… this!”
“Honey, no one bewitched you into anything.” Amy cooed softly. “Flash would warn you if something was encroaching on your personal autonomy… mostly. Eponna is rooting for you two as well.”
“Oh, gods and spirits…” The poor girl sighed as she wriggled into a shimmering silk blouse of pale blue-gray and matching pants that were so well tailored in the seat that she felt wickedly and delightfully exposed… The outfit definitely suggested she was wearing nothing at all underneath that thin layer of smooth, shining silk…
“Now, go bump into Barry in the stable. He’s been hanging out there a lot. Put on this raincoat first, though, this is a precision weapon, don’t waste this on leering rubes and jackanapes.” Amy whispered gently, while leering at her like a rube and rubbernecking like a jackanape.
The poor girl escaped from the clutches of Amy the dress-up tyrant and staggered downstairs. She barely noticed that Barry’s tall, absurdly handsome ‘uncle Ward’ had set up with his guitar on the low stage in Wilf’s common room; with six beautiful, nearly nude dryads holding musical instruments backing him.
“Tonight, we let it all hang out.” He spoke firmly, calmly and with solemn dignity, while his giggly backing band started playing.
Lindsey slipped into her boots in the foyer and just tucked the laces inside, rather than tying them; she was just slipping out to the stable for a moment or two…
#
Gandree wasn’t sure how he wound up in the bath with the king that evening… And with princess Daisybelle; who still insisted on being right up against his side at all times.
“So, there’s copies of me, all over the place?” The dwarf lad stammered and sputtered.
“Nope, we’re not copies of you; we all came from a single person, who was simultaneously lots and lots of people… until he burst and we scattered everywhere. Some of us look different, many of us are different races. A couple of us are even girls…” He licked his lips at that thought, while Gandree tried to think about anything but that idea.
“Just think of us as brothers and sisters… Kinda, but not really. Like, how I’m a goblin, while you’re a dwarf, but you feel it; we’re kin.” The king smiled at Daisybelle and shook his head. “But we’re not even a little bit related by blood, sweet Daze.”
“So what does that mean?” The young dwarf asked quietly.
“It means you’re a member of the family. Some of us are close; we help each other with things, trade knowledge and goods, while others are less… involved in family affairs.” The king sighed and sank lower in the bath.
“We have enemies out there and we have friends, but mostly we just live our lives.”
Daisybelle sniffed at her father in disbelief. “Stupid Light cult… We’re at war with those losers.” Her grip on Gandree’s arm tightened, bringing her boobs right in and trapping his hand between her thighs, under the surface.
“We’re goblins, baby. Everyone is at war with us, until proven otherwise.” Ghnash mumbled quietly. “Some of us are…” He grimaced and shook his head.
“Some of us are less than welcome in polite company; just because of what we are. Goblins have a bad reputation in general and locally we’re a sick joke… Crazed cannibal horndogs; nobody wants us nearby. Brother Chariot and the poor Magician have it even worse than I do.” He sighed gustily and grimaced.
“Humans are often super bigoted and quick to attack anything with green skin, scales or fur.”
“Fur?” Gandree asked with interest. “Like the beast folk I met in town?”
“Yes, like them. Several of us are other than human, though most can pass, one way or another. As a dwarf, you should be fine, mostly.” Ghnash grumbled. “You’re tall enough to pass for a short human man; or a human child, if nobody looks too close.”
“What’s all this, papa? You gots a plan? A plan for my boy?” She bristled at the king, her eyes wide and a few teeth on display.
“I was hoping to ask you both to do something… Something dangerous and something that is impossible for me.” The king hung his head a little and his ears drooped. “One of my brothers, the Magician, he calls himself… He is trapped in torment, between life and death, sealed in an unbreakable curse jar.” The king shifted awkwardly and growled.
“A jar that no art we know can open, to release his soul into true death. Brother Chariot may have found an artisan mage who is capable of ending this curse, but he cannot enter that one’s realm to seek this mage’s aid.”
“Chariot? Magician?” Gandree asked in confusion.
“Many of us have nearly complete memories of our lives on at least one other world; fractions of that strange man’s life transplanted into our Minds and souls. Each of us is quite different and slightly…”
“Mad.” Daisybelle offered helpfully. “They are all a little bonkers and name themselves after playing cards, cause it gets too confusing.” She chattered her teeth at the king, showing him who was boss under her roof.
“Papa is Temperance, He throws strong mojo and can steal the souls of demons with his arts… He’s only able to do what he does, because he restrains his babymaker by the force of his Will and Mind, that’s the secret source of his mojo!”
“Sweetie, I told you before, it’s not just the babymaker. My violent, predatory and dominance drives are also deeply overwrought and require…” Daisybelle was smiling blandly, suggesting she believed none of what he was saying. “Nevermind.”
The disgruntled king turned back to the dwarf. “Anyway, those of us with more complete memories also have certain advantages, gifts… and sometimes powers that set us apart.”
“You think I might have some power you don’t have?” He asked carefully. “That I’m some kind of wizard?”
“Nope. If power and magic are the answer, I have that covered.” The king answered with a grin. “I’m the wicked goblin witch king for a whole raft of scary and dangerous reasons…” He chuckled darkly.
“So what do you need from me?” Gandree asked patiently.
“You can move among humans more easily and you can do one thing I can’t. A thing most of us can’t; especially the most powerful of us, like me.” He grinned happily at the boy. “You can enter one of the prime worlds.”
“What?” Gandree and Daisybelle asked together.
“Like me, Chariot is not a human, nor is he a goblin. He is a being of shadow, wings and scales, in his native form. On worlds like ours; and yours, he is a mighty dragon of shadow and night. A terrifying force of nature, to whom all mortal ghosts and shades must bow.” the king chuckled darkly. “On that prime world, he is little more than a mortal man’s ghost and a cold wind.”
“And you think I can go there?” Gandree asked nervously.
“You are a mortal of flesh and blood, your soul and gifts are extraordinary, but your flesh is very mortal and alive.” The king didn’t clarify at all.
“When we fall to the land and manifest, we spontaneously create a body for ourselves, largely based on the body of the human Gary Ward who died to spawn us all; but with adaptations to better fit in with local conditions.” He waved his hands up and down his own green skinned form and smiled.
“You arrived in goblin territory…” Gandee mumbled. “Because I ‘landed’ near dwarfhold, I’m a dwarf?”
Ghnash grinned at the dwarf and nodded. “We generally take on the form of the local sentient species and create ourselves by pure instinct. Our original was male, so we are almost all male, he was larger than average, so are most of us. He was a musician and craftsman, so are many of us… You see where this is going, right?” He asked patiently.
“I fell to earth in this valley of goblin men and became.. This. I also took on some of the goblin’s curse, I suppose… that explains the teeth.” He smiled ruefully. “That means I can’t cross the veil without losing my mind and becoming a raging mess of hormonal… goblin. You won’t have that problem at all. Brother Chariot says the place is on the edge of a civilized land of men.”
“And then what?” Gandree asked nervously.
“Find this scholar, mage, wizard or artisan and ask for their help…” He shrugged helplessly. “Gold we have, also silver, jewels and precious things… We will pay any price to let our brother die at last. I won’t press you on this. If you wish to consider for a while and learn more about the wider world with us, that is also splendid.”
“We’ll consider it, papa. I feel something in the wind… not just the storm.” Daisybelle announced firmly. “He’s mine, not yours. If he travels the ways again it will be with my pack.”
“I get a say in this too, Daze…” Both dwarf and king said, in perfect harmony.
Hey, we’re in perfect harmony…
They sang to each other, in perfect harmony, with a little less amusement on their faces…
The king locked eyes with the dwarf lad and sang:
Palomar,
shalomar,
Swanee-shore…
Let me dig that jive once more…
Once more the two were in sync, scatting a song unknown on this world, on pitch and in rhythm together.
“There’s Something In The Air Tonight…” Daisybelle muttered, while wondering at her own odd inflection and choice of words.
#
Barry bumped into Lindsey as he was coming in from the stables. He’d needed some alone time in a quiet place to reflect and clear his mind… Grooming Flash really helped with that.
“Oh, excuse me!” They sang in harmony, while twirling around each other in the foyer.
“Flash said you were looking for me…” They both crooned, swaying to the melody coming from the common room as they spoke together.
Flash…
that rascal!
That horse is an…
Idiot!
With a conscious effort, they stopped singing their own variation on the theme to an awful and cheesy ‘Flash Gordon’ entertainment Barry vaguely recalled from hazy, distant memories of the past.
“What is that?” Lindsey whispered, her fingers to her lips, once they were free of the effect.
“Uncle Ward has a gift like my dad’s, it makes people, just kinda… groove. It’s harmless and fun, like riding tandem on a bike, just let your control slip and follow the groove.”
Barry was smiling and swaying again, popping his hip as the music wandered into a more danceable but still very unfamiliar form.
“He can’t let this loose anywhere near my pops, cause it’ll literally kill him dead, but it’s super fun for everyone else.” Bary smiled a wide and honest grin while holding out his hands to help with her raincoat.
“Stick around, we’ll have a dance.”
Lost in the moment, the music and the boy’s smile, Lindsey shucked her overcoat of waxed and oiled canvas, revealing the smooth, sleek, silken sheath she had been poured into by that dastardly wench.
Shiny, slick and smooth blue-gray silk offset her gray eyes, pale skin and dark brown hair, while clinging to her slim, leggy shape in ways almost improper for public view…
“Oh yes! That’s the stuff, girl!” Fig catcalled from behind the drums, punctuating her cry with a roll and a rimshot.
“Close your mouths boys, you’ll draw flies.” She commanded, while her five giggling sisters struck up a tune behind Ward, following his guitar into a rolling, bluesy thing that could go all night.
#