16

(Billy Currington- People Are Crazy)

Brenden

Geren rested his taloned hand on Adam’s shoulder and guided him into the house.

No way in Hell is this a good idea! Red flag after red flag of fantasy shit is all over this creepy cabin. Are we gonna be the next Hansel and Gretel, but way dumber for trusting a literal monster? I don’t even remember the story, but this guy’s probably gonna chop us up to have some nice rainy day meat pies. Am I judging this guy by how he looks? Yes. Could he be a nice guy? Maybe, but I don’t get the vibe that he’s going to be cool, considering all the cages outside. If my flesh is going to “slop off bones,” it is for damn sure not happening in this guy’s house or on his porch.

And yet, because I was so tired of the rain, I followed Adam into the cabin. Despite how absolutely creeped out I was, I got the sense that we could take Geren if we had to.

Desmond and I shared a glance, silently acknowledging each other’s suspicion.

Adam lingered in the tiny foyer until all of us were in, then crammed in right next to me, looking uncomfortable beyond comparison in this horrifying stranger’s cabin. Geren stood at the door for a second and looked over our dripping wet selves. There was an awkward moment of him just staring down at us, still smiling, before he quickly twisted his head and began lumbering over to a cupboard. He rifled through some belongings before waddling over on his hind legs and presenting us with some rough towels.

“You please excuse me. Haven’t had guests in while. Take boots off… bring them to chimney. I will light fire to dry. Dry yourselves. Be comfortable. May take while. Please, be comfortable”

He sounded like Tells with how awkwardly he was speaking. He clearly didn’t get visitors often, but he was making some kind of effort.

Maybe I was quick to judge, but I’d rather assume the worst and live than trust a random guy and have a chance of getting killed.

We all pulled our boots off and emptied them outside the door. Our socks slapped on the strangely soft wooden floors over to the fireplace, where he was leaning down and igniting the fire with his hand. Hadn’t even thought about how many people use sigils here. Had to be a lot if they were practical.

We sprawled out on a brown fur carpet in front of the fire. I’d put money on it being the skin of one of those big mammoths we got chased by. The room was packed full of shelves that had hundreds of white knick-knacks on them. Upon closer inspection, I realized they were all made of bone, and there were so, so many of them. A single old worn leather chair sat next to the rug by the fire. On the far side was a table covered in white dust and thick parchments. I couldn’t see well, but there were carving tools and other, strange implements strewn across the desk. In the back left of the room was a closed door leading to somewhere else in the house. Despite the unsettling bone theme, there was a strange comfort to the cabin.

The rain pounded endlessly on the roof. It was surprisingly cold for the summer-like weather we had been experiencing the past few days. Geren sat in the leather armchair and gazed at us expectantly. Funnily enough, he had some noticeable jitters as his little hind legs gently bounced, too short to touch the ground from a seated position.

“You come on behalf... of Mother Yeline and…” He took a long breath, as he tended to do at the end of sentences. “You want to capture... fireblood? How prepared are you? What is your experience?” He leaned forward, resting his head on his massive fists.

Adam responded pretty quickly. “We don’t have a lot of battle experience, but we have killed some person-sized bug things in the forest near Mother Yeline’s village.”

“I’ve done a lot of hunting, just with better equipment than what we’ve got,” Desmond cracked his knuckles and fiddled with his bow.

Geren chuckled. “Hunting is good. But battle experience? Battle is least of worries. And yet… you look strong… athletic… but inexperienced? Elaborate.” He narrowed his eyes at us, but I couldn’t tell who he was looking at. Adam spoke up before I had the chance to.

“We grew up doing farm work, so we never learned how to fight.”

“What farming village? I know area well.” His smile stuck, but his eyes stared with so much distrust.

“We’re from a very small village from past the cliffs at the lake. Boston.” Adam was nervous, but hiding it well.

Geren’s smile faded and his eyes widened again. “Curious. You want fireblood for money then? You want it to help someone? You want it for serving?”

I jumped into the conversation before Adam could answer. I didn’t want to give too much away and Adam seemed keener on talking than I was. “We’ve gotta help a friend. She’s got broken bones that the Mother can’t heal.”

“Then I will show you… how to capture fireblood… tomorrow. Not much to teach. Fireblood hunting is… unique to fireblood. Let rain fall out. The day grows old.” He sat very far forward, his head lowering down to all of ours. “You are tiring, yes? Young blood must sleep. Must rest.”

“Respectfully, Geren, we need to learn now.” I stood up and took a step toward him. “We can’t wait. She can’t wait to have her arms fixed.”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Geren’s massive form hopped out of his chair and he stood in place, towering over me. His face was like a nightmare looming over me with a polite smile. He smelled surprisingly like refreshing pine and the flowers outside, which helped keep me from being completely horrified when I took a step back. He traced his hand on the side of my face and his sharp, white talon traced across my cheek toward my eye as his two dull gray orbs inspected my face.

“Nyadin, you are… hiding tired eyes. I see tired eyes. I see tired man. Wrinkly, slumped eyes… cannot hide from me. Friends are easy to see. Their eyes turn gray, turn sad. Can deceive strangers. But not me. Sleep tonight… work tomorrow.” I waited for him to pull his hand away from my face, then gulped and nodded. “Good. I will bring food. You are hungry?”

We all nodded until Adam said, “Yes. Thank you very much.”

With a delighted look on his face, Geren stepped through the door into the other room. None of us said anything, but we all looked at each other, then the bones, then each other again. After a few minutes, we heard his footsteps tapping back into the room, and he waddled in on his hind legs, holding wooden plates in both of his hands. They were covered in a small assortment of meat, bread and cheese. Everything looked delicious, and our lack of food had been driving us mad with hunger. He hung a kettle of water over the fire and sprinkled some of the blue petals from the meadow in.

“Meat from animals nearby. Cheese and bread are… from Vehfirn trader. Tyranewt petal tea… helps digestion… and delicious. Eat all you like. I have plenty.” He sat quietly and watched us eat with a creepy, but oddly delighted smile. His head and eyes didn’t move, but I could feel his unsettling gaze was on me. “Tell me more about Boston. I do not know Boston.”

Our mouths were too stuffed to speak, I wasn’t even tasting the food, but we all looked at Adam, who invented the lie that we came from Boston. “It’s a little farming village past the lake. Just our families live there.”

“Curious. How did your families… get there? Uncommon for jinian… nyadin and jorlad to… live so close. Such different… cultures, lives.”

He’s too interested in where we’re from. He’s not gonna let us change the subject. And what the fuck is a nyadin or a jorlad supposed to be? Are those groups of people here? Didn’t he call me nyadin?

Tells finally spoke up, but not much to our benefit. “I was born in a city. We all were. Our parents moved to Boston when we were young so we could live outside of the- the ci-city.”

She was already out of social gas and losing believability rapidly. To any person from Earth, our cover story was stupidly horrible, but it was just enough for a person from a different world to believe.

“I travel plenty. Please tell… how are your families… if I meet them in… Boston?”

Tells looked around and we were all looking at her. She wasn’t worming her way out of this one just yet. “I live with my mother, father and seven siblings. I’m the oldest. My mother’s name is Rachel and my father’s name is Dwight.”

“Please, do you have clan name?”

“Samson.”

She’s telling Geren all of her family’s real names and her real last name? Wait, shit, there’s no reason not to. They don’t exist here.

“Hmm. Tells Samson of Boston… daughter of Rachel and Dwight… eldest of eight.” Geren turned his head and looked at Desmond. “Where is your family from?”

“I’m originally from a far-off land called California. My father moved to Boston when I was ten. I’m an only child. My father’s name is Christopher, my family name is Fischer.”

“Unusual for jorlad to… be without mother.”

“Yeah, she skipped town when I was young. Ran off with some rich asshole.”

Geren processed that last bit slowly, repeating asshole quietly until he remembered the meaning of the word and nodded.

“Very well. Desmond Fischer of Boston. Son of Christopher.” He said it like he was taking notes in his head. He turned his head next down the line to Adam.

“I am Adam, the Mountain Crusher-”

Geren interrupted him, “A title. Mountain Crusher. Why Mountain Crusher… please?” Geren leaned further forward for this one. His thin tongue ran over his dry lips as his wide eyes were locked on Adam. Adam, who had started introducing himself like that as a joke, was wide-eyed and frozen in place until I covertly nudged his thigh.

“Well, when I was young, I played a game called king of the mountain with my friends here. We would build a dirt mountain for the king to stand on. Then they would try to pull me off of it, but I would never budge, and the mound was always smashed under me. It’s not serious, it’s just a joke and a force of habit to say that, sorry.”

Adam was talking fast and he was pale, boldfaced lying to Geren. Geren was eating the story up, though, smiling and lightly chuckling from it.

“Mountain Crusher Adam. How is your family?” The story seemed to calm Geren, who delightedly smiled.

“It was just me, my sister, my mother, and Pete. He’s my step-father, a good guy. My younger sister is back home with my mom. My mom’s name is Deborah and my sister’s name is Mary. Our last name is Lewandowski.”

“Mountain Crusher Adam… son of Deborah… brother of Mary… blood of Lewandowski.” He finally turned his attention to me.

I really didn’t want to talk or think about my family. I had been trying not to think of them anymore to make it easier here. “I live with my mom, Claudia, and my brother, Kyle. My mother and I run the farm to take care of my younger brother. Last name’s Jace. We told you all about us now, what’s up with you? Living out here alone and all.”

“Well, Brenden Jace… son of Claudia and… brother of Kyle. What of your father? You have one, yes? Forgive my presume… nyadin did not allow… me entry.”

“He died in a… wagon accident when I was young.”

“Condolences. What strange names you all have. I answer in time. I am old. Have many stories. Know many things. Would take too long… strain throat to… tell my story now. So, not now.” Geren’s cheery expression changed and his eyes and mouth relaxed with a gurgled sigh. “Not now. In time. Time’s late and… we rise early. You learn in morning. Please rest yourselves.” Geren stood from his chair and waddled to his door. “Let me trust first. Tend to fire as you want.” He shut the door and we heard nothing else from him.

“I don’t know about y’all,” Desmond groaned and laid back on his damp sleeping mat, “this place may be creepy as shit, but at least we’re not in the rain.” His drooping eyelids finally closed, gray and exhausted.

Adam clenched his jaw as he usually did when was really thinking about something, “He’s a little weird and not human, but I think I like him. He’s kinda cool.”

“Say what you want,” Tells tossed a stray piece of string into the fire, “but he left us alone in his house with a fire.” She turned to the closed eyed Desmond and whacked at his crotch, but Desmond’s hands flashed between her palm and his nuts to block her hit without even looking.

“Tellsss,” Desmond didn’t even open his eyes, just yawned, “just gimme a fuckin’ break and lemme sleep.”

I glared at her without realizing, probably stemming from my own sleeplessness, then laid down and turned away from the flames. A wave of exhaustion rushed over me. My eyes fell and every part of me became heavy. I hadn't ever fallen asleep so fast in my life. Everyone crashed hard, passing out on Geren’s floor in one of the best sleeps I’d ever gotten.