Chapter 102: Ch: 94 Find A Job You Love…

Ch: 94 Find A Job You Love…

Vera Anglin caught Gary by the sleeve as he strolled out of the little meadow. “Oh, Vera. Hi, I’m a little busy. I have this ghost hanging around my neck, but I’m too tired to perform another rite…” 

He tried to keep walking and nearly walked out of his shirt. “Hey! Leggo, geeze! Everybody keeps trying to get me out of my clothes… thirsty much?”

 

“Boy, did you just summon a demon into town and trap it in a sugarcube… Now you are off for tea I suppose? Best mind which pocket is which.” The war priestess flushed nearly the same deep red as her robes in barely restrained fury.

“If you think you will be allowed to wander town with that monster in your pocket…” She faltered to a stop as he and his idiot friends began giggling and bobbing their eyebrows up and down.

 

“See now we’re back to my trouser tyrant… I’m very happy with Shai… surely there is another sexy lunatic out there for you.” He sputtered and giggled along with his fellow clowns as they walked to his back gate.

 

Vera dogged his heels pressing the issue. “I cannot allow a known mooncalf to wander the streets with a demon!” She barked. “Gods and spirits, you are a walking menace.”

Tony joined the group as they entered the garden. “It’s true There have been more violent events around you since you came to Wheatford than we usually see in a decade!” He said excitedly. 

“The statistics are very interesting, overall we see no more than… wait, demon?” He demanded as his brain caught up. “Is that why I was summoned? Or rather, what have you summoned?”

 

“It’s not a demon, more like a minor god. An eons old sentient tapeworm parasite with spawn and segments in hundreds of realities.” He mumbled through a happy yawn. 

“It’s the one behind the ground dragons and shooting me in the back. The dick and balls demon was somebody else.”

 

Tony marched along in silence for a few steps, digesting all that. “Gary, where is this ‘minor god worm’ at the moment?”

#

 

Naptime should have been restful and restorative, what he got was more grilling.

“Ok, big picture, a criminal hired another criminal to do a job. The hireling failed and got his ass spanked hard. He took that poorly and went to his boss and asked for another shot. His boss set him up with another shot, but also betrayed him, making him a slave forever.” Gary looked over the gang and smiled. “Everybody still with me?” 

“So someone stuck a fresh, shiny new Blasphemous Ziggurat of Tormented Souls up the worm’s backside as the price of a shot at me.” He put the gleaming salt crystal on the table in the middle of the group. “He shot his shot, then I took mine. I won.”

 

“What happens if you sit on that little rock? Or lose it in the woods? Or it falls into innocent hands?” The duke asked calmly, watching the crystal with deep suspicion.

“I’m not keeping it. Nope, I’m giving it to a friend, he likes crystals a lot. No place safer for it.” He yawned again and stretched. “Either way, as the price for breaking the Ziggurat’s curse, I took away its immortality.”

 

“What does that mean? It’s dead? You killed it?” The duke asked hopefully.

 

“Nope, it’s alive and well. Now it's a hyper intelligent tapeworm… trapped in a salt crystal. If it breaks out, it’s done. If I sit on this, it’s done, if I drop it in a scalding hot cup of tea… gross, but it’s done.”

He yawned once more, picked the stone up and stood. “I’m wiped, just need to do one more thing…”

 

Gary stepped out into the bright spring afternoon, took a deep breath and tore off a handkerchief sized square of his shadow. He squatted down on the lawn…  and the boy fell over with a squawk of pain. He scrambled to sit back down, delicately. 

Gary took a few quick passes over his sheet of dark stuff, creasing and folding it in a complex pattern. He whistled as he worked, a sweet, lilting song that they all assumed had morbid and terrible lyrics.

 

After a few moments a tiny black raven took off from his palm, vanishing into the nearest tree. “Oh! That was easy. Feels nice too…” He gave a little giddy shudder. “Gotta remember, that door swings both ways.”

 

Gary caught Vera giving him a look and bristled at her. “Hey, my cult only handles what happens after someone dies… what they did before is not my business or care, any more than what comes after.” 

He shrugged at her. “I joined a death cult, you joined a stabbing cult. Feels like we’re even.”

 

The duke butted in before things got out of hand “Either way, you will be supervised by knights in my service until that thing is resolved to your supervisors’ satisfaction. Perhaps Vera and Rolf…” 

Both of those worthies stiffened in horror, struggling against discipline, training and a desire to be far away from the madman.

 

“Haha!” Leo’s raucous laugh rattled off the common room walls, the man brayed like a donkey. “I’m not that cruel, I’ll send Bannock and Herlick, they just came back from patrol.” 

 

“Ohh! That be fine! I did like those two!” Shai bubbled happily.

 

“Babe… my autonomy…” He whined. “I was gonna be a rebel today, but Shai won’t let me.” He complained to the duke. “We’ll be handing it over in a day or two. Go ahead and send your two spies… They are always welcome. More mouths to eat worm.”

 

The duchess nudged the duke in his ribs, without looking at Gary. 

“About that… We are expecting a number of refugees to arrive, we have housing in the works, but food… spring is a long time after harvest. The duchy is soliciting donations of foodstuffs for…” 

 

Ivy, Becky and Dannyl had their heads together, plotting furiously. They shot looks at Gary, the duke, duchess Tawny and strangely, Otho the dog, as they discussed some matter in the middle of the duke’s request.

“So, final tally?” Becky asked her two co-conspirators, as they nodded grimly. Becky turned to the duke and smiled innocently. “Your grace, we would be pleased to offer you eighteen tons of frozen ground dragon and six tons of assorted demonic or outsider infested shellfish and seafood.”

“Excellent!” The duchess clapped her hands in genuine glee and rose. “Becky, it is always a pleasure, Journeyman Shai, your hospitality is a delight I savor with every visit. Gary…” She gave a miniscule nod in his general direction. 

The duke clapped him on the shoulder companionably as he left. “She can’t stand you boy… Please don't antagonize her.”

“Meh, Tawny’s mom can get away with a lot…” Gary murmured, lost in stuffing his silly, long stemmed pipe. “I’m taking today and tomorrow off, then we will look at your Port Clement job again.”

“Celeste… I will be staying to negotiate a contract… care to join the bargaining?” He called, to his fast retreating wife.

“No, sorry, duty calls, I must… Inspect the wasteworks!” She lied. “Gods, now I must inspect the wasteworks…” She mumbled still marching away with Vera and Rolf at her side.

“Well, Jennah likes me… and Tawny thinks I’m awesome.” Gary complained. “Besides, I just said today’s my day off. No more business unless it’s funny business.”

“I’m taking today off too. And for the record, Rolf likes you, but he has three contracts with Order… you are a lot for him to handle.” The duke sighed, reached out and took Gary’s pipe as soon as it was filled. 

“He hasn't learned to let go of the little things.” He remarked, punctuating his remark by gesturing with the long stem. He puffed on it three times and took a long draw. 

“That’s marvelous.” He sighed. “Celeste won’t let me smoke in the palace. Certainly not now.” He clapped Gary around the shoulder and headed for the baths. 

The duke kept him in the bath, smoking himself stupid until Herlick and Bannock arrived. They settled in and made themselves at home in the blue circle room as usual. Each one gave the fluffy pink buthole a tickle for luck, right around the ‘do not disturb’.

“It’s good to be home… wait…?” Herlick muttered.

 

“Just go with it, Shai and the boy do that.” Becky said as she strolled by. “Join the club, you will see things…”

“Oh! You’re joining the Bathtime Yacht Club, welcome aboard.” Dannyl went the other direction, carrying a bundle of armor. 

 

“Is that my armor?” Bannock called, pursuing the fast moving young man.

 

“No, it’s both of your armors. They will be ready in the morning.” The young man vanished through a door and disappeared into the bowels of their madhouse.

Gary breezed by, going upstairs and stopped for a moment. “Hi!, nice to have you back aboard, hold still.” He quickly and briskly measured both warriors rather thoroughly. Including some startling invasions of personal space. For some reason, he was done before they really had any idea what was going on.

 

“This feels fine, I’m worried about that, or rather I should be.” Bannock shrugged. “Order has been largely silent since our last trip with these ducklings. Now I’m worried that I’m not worried.”

 

“Oh, Good, you’re here,” The duke was in a bathrobe, smoking one of those silly long pipes that were trendy now. “Anglin briefed you I’m sure. Just watch over these kids and don’t let the boy summon anything too evil.”

“May we have clarification on that, your grace? Too… evil?” Bannock asked, deep dissatisfaction on their face.

 

“Mmm? Let’s say medium evil at worst. I trust your judgment and teamwork.” He puffed his pipe, sipped a cup of tea and smiled wide at the pair. “What? It’s my day off.”

 

Gary and Shai were curled up on a couch nearby, ignoring everyone and everything else for a while. The kids and Becky were singing a silly song while Dannyl played guitar for them.

 

Catch a falling star and 

put it in your pocket,

Save it for a rainy day…

You are reading story In the Key of Ether at novel35.com

 

“Come on, let’s bathe and get ourselves together while they are distracted. I smell madness in the air.” Herlick whispered, dragging her comrade off by the hand.

#

 

Gary lounged in a pile of pillows and cushions, chatting with his immortal friends and a few of the more magically inclined family members. Shai sprawled beside him, looking rested and happy, passing the pipe on whenever it came her way.

“...Immortality isn’t a natural state for a corporeal entity, this realm takes that more seriously than most. That’s why a dryad’s tree is mortal, even though she is not.” 

The red eyed boy had a new, even longer pipe than the one the duke had filched. He puffed a cloud of sweet smelling gray smoke and winked at Leo. 

“As a spiritual manifestation of a natural phenomenon, Axio is technically incorporeal, I made him a vessel and he built himself from local stuff. Your dryad puppet bodies started out as a way to communicate with Plumeria…”

 

“That is a major development for my kind, boy. We must sacrifice at least one tree from our grove, in order to manifest a body capable of speech or battle… even then we were constrained.” Solange murmured around a cup of honeyed milk and moonshine. 

“We were unable to ‘travel’ and only active as long as the poor tree managed to survive, uprooted. Now, though they feel a bit… snug, we can interact and move about…”

 

“Am I going to get mobbed by dryads demanding bodies?” Gary looked a little concerned, mostly confused and stoned, but concerned too.

 

“We are a deeply conservative and independent species, none of us will approach something like you willingly. If you call, they may answer… out of curiosity, or in hopes of cleansing you.” Sol snuggled in closer to Liam and Tawny, trying to get between the two, with little success.

 

“I find that strange… he is no more unnatural or unclean than any other undead entity…” Axio mumbled. “A little more lifelike and frisky, a little less ‘lure you into a swamp and steal your life’ but not that unusual. As wights go He is quite a charmer!”

 

“Thanks buddy… that means a lot.” Gary sighed happily and passed the pipe to Rootedbear. The big man had Axio in his lap as they looked through a book of Dannyl’s sketches and watercolors.

 

“I mean it Gary, most of us have some fixed ideas about what ‘alive’ and ‘dead’ mean. When things get complicated, like in your case many of us get…” He came to an awkward pause that lingered.

 

“Pitchforks and torches, that’s what they get.” He grumbled gently, too high to get agitated. “I’m trying to be cool about the whole, ‘abomination’ and ‘he must be cleansed’ thing… It’s starting to sting a little, if I’m honest.”

 

Maple leaned against Shai and took a long sip of her spiced apple brandy. “Don’t take it personally boy… you rattle and buzz against our natures, we are life, love and rebirth, all encompassing, embracing roots and limbs.” 

 

“We touch everything in this world, and so many others beyond, out into the endless void.” Plumeria lounged against Rootedbear, with her head in Axio’s lap. 

“Where trees take root, so too do we. You are not easy to touch… at first.” Axio was running his fingers through her hair, slowly putting her to sleep, even as she spoke.

“Your pet is a constant irritation, Ironmonger Shai. We will allow you to keep it anyway.”

 

“Why thank ye miss dryad… I did worry I would have to put him in a sack an head tae the river.” She wriggled close and closed her eyes in relaxed bliss.

 

“I tried that Shai, he floats.” Tawny remarked, while scratching Liam’s bristly head idly, as he snoozed.

#

 

“If he won’t talk, maybe we dandle him in the water and see if he floats… or if anything is hungry.” Badger grumbled. “A few crawdaddie nibbles and he might develop a new attitude.”

Lyonel was having the worst week of his career. Ten years since he fled his crap hole, dirt scratching farm village in the fringe. Ten years chasing the good life, women, booze and drugs, now he was in the paws of animals.

“These are human lands, you can’t touch me here!” He spat, furiously terrified. “Even a backwater like this won’t allow you to…” Pogo stuffed the ball of soggy rags back in the man’s mouth.

 

“Really, that’s not helpful.” His words were aimed at badger and man equally. “Torture is not a thing of our peoples, despite what humans believe. We will surely be feeding all the life in this forest with your remains when we are done…”

He smiled a sharp toothed grin and lolled his tongue out. “We do the same for our own people. Rest assured, you will be neatly and cleanly executed before any chopping and scattering of your remains is done, we are civilized, after all.”

He sat down on his haunches and smiled again. “Now, about the two young coyote girls you snatched in the eastern wastes last year. Una and Laura were their names… I want you to try and remember where you sold them…”

It was hopeless of course, even the rare literate bandit or slaver seldom cared enough to learn, let alone remember or record their victim’s names or endings. 

“Your lack of cooperation is disappointing.” Pogo growled. “My friend Coyote is very cross with you. He and Squirrel are out shopping for a solution for your memory problem…”

 

 “The God of Beasts is ever generous with his bounty, friend Wolf!” The tiny squirrel man in an impeccable red weskit and hat said happily from the roof of the lodge. 

“Coyote is waiting a mere two miles off, surely this is a sign, Beast is pleased with our efforts.” He cracked a hazelnut open and munched with satisfaction. “Sooner begun, sooner done.”

#

 

Two miles through the woods bound and gagged were a nightmare ordeal. Vic and Lionel were poked, prodded, jostled and pinched whenever they flagged or slowed. 

The badger man had a whole stinging nettle in his grip, the stalk and root ball wrapped in cloth to protect his paws from the plant. He would lightly brush the bare back of the man that slowed first, leaving a strip of red, painful, but harmless welts. 

Progress was relatively swift over the game trails, through the woods and wastelands.

 

Near a thick copse of trees, they met the lanky coyote man, he stepped from the bush soundlessly, except for a quiet yipping bark of fury at the sight of the two prisoners.

“This is poetic humans. Poetic I say!” He barked a short cackling laugh into the sky, filled with savage joy.

“I trailed you all the way to Fort Staub you know, after you stole my sister’s kits.” He snarled, teeth snapping scant inches from Vic’s face. 

“You were fast then, but now you are mine. I only regret that the rest of your pack escaped into death, before this lovely day.” His smile became bright and happy, chilling the humans to the bone.

“Come brothers and sisters, Beast has granted us a great blessing today.”

 

Through the screening trees they found a small clearing with a decaying, hollow tree at its heart. Massive black bees buzzed and hummed in lazy, bumbling flight, traveling from one early blooming flower to another. 

The meadow was a dreamy garden of flowers, mushrooms and sparkling glittering life. Every bush and scrub was neatly maintained and perfectly spaced, with mossy and grassy paths leading around and through.

Around the base of the tree, forming a primitive, ossuary, lay the scattered bones of all manner of creatures, mundane and exotic. 

Wallow bears, common bears, boars, skunks and all manner of scavengers and honey enthusiasts decorated the soil with their bones and desiccated carcasses.

 

Coyote reached into his long, dust colored coat of many pockets and produced a small clay jar, stoppered with cork and wax. He popped it open and dipped a small brush made of grass into the contents. 

He painted a smear of sticky, golden honey down each man’s back.  After that, he stuck his grass brush into the pot and hurled it at the hollow tree, where it smashed in a golden splatter.

 

“Sugar wasps.” Coyote said with satisfaction. “Their sting is so pleasant, you will never regret your new occupation. You will be slaves to this hive until you die, your service will be brief, but highly satisfying.”  He cut the men’s bonds and shoved them into the suddenly agitated swarm. 

 

His yipping coughing laugh scattered the birds from the trees, it went on for a long, long time.

#

 

The whole family was sprawled out on the lawn, sunbathing together. The dryads lounged about as well, enjoying the mysterious emanations of the small group of humans, nearly humans… and whatever the boy was. 

Herlick and Bannock wound up ‘supervising’ from their own spots on the soft, perfect lawn. He had some excuse about ‘needing to grow his shadow back’ that would make more sense if they drank more of the ‘moonshine’ the dryads loved so.

“Sorcerers, gotta take the weird with the good. At least this feels great.” Herlick mumbled. Bannock grunted noncommittally, but they were sprawled out for maximum sun exposure and completely undignified. 

 

“None can complain about a spring afternoon in the garden. Would that all service were this pleasant.” Bannock murmured. 

Herlick rolled over to sun her backside. “Gotta love this part of the job.”

#

 

 

 

Lyonel’s wickedly sharp knife lashed out, shearing a creeping vine. “No one can complain about an afternoon in the garden…” He droned, a thin stream of honey on his slack lips. He worked tirelessly, mulching, trimming, weeding, endlessly expanding and maintaining the garden, the hive, the queen. 

“Service brings joy, perhaps we can work harder brother.” Vic buzzed, while scratching at the pleasurable welts on his arms.

#

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