Chapter 75: Ch: 67 Massive Gains

Ch: 67 Massive Gains

“Human reproduction is certainly complex.” Thirp mused, scanning the whiteboard carefully. “It would seem that ‘jerking off’ is a cultural touchstone of some kind… this bears deeper investigation!”

 

“Please Thirp, don’t. I can’t help you unpack that baggage right now. I’m still wrestling with the performance you put on on top of Lilith’s shell.” Even in the world of dreams a person can still blush. 

“Someday I will look back and laugh at this memory… and tell the story as though it happened to Tallum.” Gary and Thirp were upstairs, having ‘the talk’ in frank and deeply awkward terms.

 

“I studied the lyrics of that song Becky sang earlier in the day… how is our discussion different?” She asked in innocent, musical tones. “You are deliciously uncomfortable right now… I find I enjoy watching you drift unanchored on the breeze.” She bowed and plucked laughter from her harp, deepening the young man’s blush. 

“Tell me about this Bannock… they are biologically female yes? Yet they present without any of the gender signals of your people…”

 

“No chance Thirp, you can ask them yourself. Leave my kids out of your games.” Gary waved a finger in front of his friend’s eight laughing eyes.

“Even my therapist is a weirdo. Come on, let’s go downstairs before things get… whatever, just whatever.” Gary stomped downstairs, making his displeasure with everything, everywhere comically evident.

 

Marduk had the big screen showing nature documentaries non stop. “You have so many of these stashed away… Beast is very pleased with the insights and ideas these bring.”

 

“Now this feels weird too. I need to let go of some of my hangups I think.” He paused to consider momentarily, then shook his head. “Nope, if Thirp asks for your help on her new research project, please say no. The universe is not ready for the definitive Jerckoff dissertation.”

 

Knowledge had no answer for that, beyond a foolish grin… Or so Gary had hoped.

“I, myself, am currently enjoying an influx of new and exciting thoughts and ideas. Interestingly, my young cultists have input in this area as well… Thirp, let me collaborate on this Jerckoff manual!”

#

 

“Joy is really playing dirty…” Gary grumbled to himself as he staggered downstairs. Sleeping late, until second bell, was a disorienting feeling. As he turned the first landing, a tiny form leapt from a hanging plant, seizing his throat in miniscule claws. 

The still unnamed dryad tore and scratched at the skin over the pulsing artery in Gary’s neck, doing no damage at all. “This is for the best, pitiful creature…” She shouted in her high, small voice. “Your bones shall nourish my tree, while your soul is reborn in wholesome new life!”

 

Becky plucked the immortal from Gary’s collar and tucked her into a pocket. “Sorry Gary, she’s so little… and sneaky.”

 

“We have a solution to her problem now Becks, Adan has a grove of sugar maples in the woodcutters forest. He sold it to me on the cheap since they don’t run much sap here. Too warm in the summer, not long enough winters or something… Liam will know.”

 

“You bought a forest? How much did those rings auction for?” Becky’s eyes lit with greed and excitement.

 

“The duke said he was going to bid for two… even after taxes, I’m going to be uncomfortably wealthy.” He sulked for some reason. “It’s not even a forest, just an experimental grove that didn’t work out.”

 

After breakfast the family, including Harlan’s crew, strolled in the winter sunshine beside the dog cart. Ivy and Liam joined up with them at the bridge into town. They headed up the River Road a mile and ducked down a narrow track into the woods.

On the low, rolling foothills, in a sunny little vale, a well ordered maple sugar grove rested under its blanket of snow and fallen leaves. A small sugar shed stood nearby, well built, but empty of equipment or tools.

 

The pale golden stick insect clambered out from Amy’s collar, peering around with interest, if not excitement.

Gary and Liam put bronze bladed shovels over their shoulders and marched down into the sheltered hollow and started looking for the perfect spot to plant their friend to be. The others began setting up a lovely picnic, while Amy and Becky supervised the dig team.

“Not too near the spring, she hates wet roots.” Becky barked happily. “Too high up the slope, the wind will shake her leaves.”

 

“There's a fox den there, dig someplace else.” Amy pleaded. “The hummingbirds love that honeysuckle bush, not there…” 

 

It took until lunchtime to get the tree settled in and planted. A charming playhouse, fitted together with wooden pegs replaced the sugar shed and its nasty iron nails. 

Another of Gary’s mysterious river stones shed a warm, summery light on the miniature livingroom from a painted wooden hearth.

The three children waved bye bye to the cranky spirit at fourth bell, heading back home to the Adventure yard at last. Gary waved bye bye to Vera Anglin, lurking on the periphery of their activities, openly observing from a discrete distance.

“We’ll leave her alone till spring, once she has her roots in and makes some friends, we can try again.” Amy and Wilford complained and grumbled a little about losing their playmate.

“Maybe she can come visit before spring, but she has to promise to stop trying to ‘cleanse’ me.” He grumbled as they tore his objections down with teary eyes and trembling lower lips.

“It’s cute when she tries to murder me now, but she is going to be getting more powerful so let’s be firm with her. Maybe Solange or Plumeria can talk to her.” 

#

 

“Absolutely not, leave her be til spring and then I will speak to her for you. We are spirits of nature, creatures of seasons and habit.” She sipped her liquor delicately and lounged by the fire. “We are also creatures of the moment and of memory, her new grove will heal her spirit and fresh leaves always make a dryad feel more alert.” She luxuriated in the warmth of Gary’s unburning fireplace. “Why did you not plant her in this extraordinary Garden…Gary?” 

 

“Still having trouble with my name? You can use ‘boy’ or ‘fool’, everyone else does.” He shot her a crooked smile, joyous and out of place on something so terrible. “If I planted her in my garden she could get tangled up with my soul, no thanks.” 

 

“Sinking her roots into your soul? That is the most horrifying thought to cross my mind since before… no, that’s it.” She wilted a little idea. “You bring too many new things, fool, I must return to my tree and sleep” Amy, Wilford and Becky escorted her out the back gate and into the children’s garden. Even winter bare and splotched with stubborn patches of snow, the earth looked richer and more vibrant. Some fruit trees showed the first stirring of buds, while the plum and cherry trees were throwing an early spring debut.

So was Vera, leaning against the wall of the and observing.

#

 

Back at the shop, business was picking up. Shai had a small basket full of tokens and a few letters waiting at the  orphanage office. 

The tokens were calling cards in a post literate society, each one unique to the owner and usually crafted by that worthy. Most adults and everyone who fancied themselves persons of business had a token. They were registered with the temple of Order if the owner was unknown, but most locals knew or could ask around and get an answer quickly. 

Shai’s was a small spiral of steel rod, blunted at both ends. Tallum used a similar device in brass, but squared and twisted into a complex spiral. Mikkel had fired clay sheep figurines, a nod to his puffy white trademark poof of hair. 

Each token was a client with an offer for a job or commission, Shai would be busy for a few days. 

“Aye! One letter fer thee! Tis addressed tae me wi instructions tae read it tae thee.” Shai giggled and passed it over.

 

My Dear Nephew Garri,

 

No doubt you do not remember me, your father’s brother, since I last saw you in your crib… Your aunt and I have only just learnt of your situation and will arrive to finalize the adoption in spring. We will see you soon and  look forward to welcoming you into the bosom of our family.

 

Your loving uncle Hosea Ward, Craft priest, Port Ellis temple.

 

“Wow, Little orphan Gary… I really wanna meet this guy.” Gary half grumbled in almost admiration.

 

“Otho hae two dozed claims tae adopt Wilford an Amy, those he did intercept. They did go tae Paul fer nae good things will come out of those.”

 

Gary’s head snapped around angrily as his smile vanished. “Who, where? Are they a threat, can that work?”

 

“Nae, nae an nae, it kinnae work an the administrator of the orphanage dinnae collude, there be a test of kinship. Only close kin may adopt frae the orphanage. Tis the law.” Shai soothed him with calm words and gentle touches. 

“Papa Harlan was near forced tae leave me tae my fate, t’were a close run thing. None will take them frae us, Otho and many clergy did witness their birth an hear Otho’s words.”

 

“I still want to know who thinks they are clever…” He grumbled. “I just wanna ask a few questions…”

 

“Leave it tae Paul, tis a crime tae falsely file tae adopt.” Gary seemed unsatisfied but resigned.

 

Shai went off to meet with her prospective clients, while the kids played with Annie and the other orphans under Becky’s supervision in the garden. Gary went below to work out some feelings in the shop.

 

Lilith’s shell, left behind when she evacuated back to her own reality, was marvelous. Pearly white on the outer layers, shading to pink and finally deep, bloody crimson mother of pearl inside. 

Gary had carefully harvested a fair quantity of various sections for experimentation. With delicate care and absolute concentration he began cutting, polishing and grinding, absorbed into his work completely.

#

 

“…it took a long time, but Otho showed me what I was missing. When he gets like this, it’s just like when Otho has to poop, he becomes hyper focused, concentrating on details too small for us to see.” Ivy lectured the gathered mages and crafters, pointing to the salient points on the oblivious subject with a long rod of bamboo. 

“That’s why dogs wander and circle looking for just the right spot, as though the fate of the nation depends on where they lay a steaming pile. No wasted energy, no doubt or second guessing, just pure animal focus… even his link with the god of Beasts is crafty.”

 

“Is that why his enchantments are all so… organic?” Becky shifted in her robes. “These feel alive, the way a forest does in springtime. Not aware or anything just… alive.”

 

“Aye, tis the same fer all his works of love and craft, he does say that crafters weave themselves inside the workings that touch their hearts, for good or ill.” She grinned as she told the tale of Herlick’s treasure hunt and Gary’s magic shovel of doom.

“...‘spun sugar and children’s dreams’ she did say, though the box were as stout and well crafted as any. It did take a chisel and sledge tae finish opening it fer retrieving the ledgers.” Shai chuckled and passed her shovel around the group, Liam in particular, seemed excited. 

 

“I should see if he has any free time…” Liam mumbled. “I could use a magic shovel, this feels combative too, warshovel?” He took a few carefully controlled cuts and slashes with the formidable tool. “Brutal, this thing is dangerous.”

 

“Wait till Dannyl fires his new toy up, I finished it about an hour ago, that thing is crazy.” Gary said, still working away at his bench. “It’s going to need some time to settle down. The enchantment is still chaotic and volatile. Becky’s harp however…”

 

He pulled a drape from over an irregular shape and revealed a glimmering, golden plumwood harp, inlaid with  pearly shell ornaments, depicting birds in flight across the frame. Silver grass strings led into a delicate soundbox embellished with a climbing vine in silver and tiny red shell flowers.

 

Orpheus’ Wail, instrument, harp class, unique harp, enchanted, etheric/spiritual Contract item. When Contracted with a qualified sorcerer, spiritual, noncorporeal, hidden entities are encouraged to reveal themselves/manifest. No mana cost no cooldown. 

 

Spiritual/noncorporeal/hidden entities may be forced to reveal/manifest themselves, resistance scales against Animus, Will and Mind. Moderate mana cost, brief cooldown. Coercion may be perceived as a hostile act.

 

Aura/mental effects from non hostile sources will be enhanced. 

Geas, coercion, compulsion, restraint effects from hostile forces will erode rapidly in aura effect range.

 

“It’s beautiful… I love it!” Becky scooped up the instrument and scooted upstairs to get acquainted leaving a hug, a kiss and nothing else behind in her wake.

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“That clears my bench for now. I heard you want a murdershovel Liam, that was a custom job for Shai. Tell me what’s on your mind.” Gary said abstractedly, while measuring Dannyl’s inseam. “Codpiece, cup or kilt Dannyl? I’m a kilt man in summer, a cup is warmer, but a codpiece makes for safer jewels.” 

 

“Codpiece, definitely. Is this going to be crazy like yours? Or sexy like Becky’s?” He demanded. 

 

“Neither, cause mine is an experiment and Becky’s is a custom job. You gotta help me make yours, just like she did.” Gary had a conjured sketch pad in hand when the bells began to ring out of time.  “Is that the alarm… again?”

#

 

“Here we go again, the duke and most of the domain’s forces are still on the Uplands Road, four days away if the weather holds.” Mikkel announced. “We have another groundragon coming and this one is headed for Wheatford.” Grumbles of discontent swelled in the room full of old timers and semi retired adventurers turned townsmen.

“Vera Anglin is mustering what she can, but nothing is going to get here in time from out of town.” His gaze settled on the Bathers in the corner again. “You kids ready for another one? Reports say this one is big, really big.”

 

Liam thumped his spear butt on the floor twice and nodded, while the rest shrugged. “This is a rough winter, bodes ill for a busy summer season…” His eyes scanned the oldsters and slightly paunchy townsmen. “Orphans never really retire brothers and sisters, I want to see some improved fitness by spring.” 

 

He clapped his hands three times and turned to Khan. “They are your problem, youngster, I’m just a pensioner now, guildmaster.” Mikkel handed his shiny silver badge to Khan with a smile and a bow. 

Pinning a common brass Adventure badge to his coat made the reality sink in, as he sagged gratefully into Hanna’s arms. “Let’s get a bath in before the kids go…” He whispered.

Mikkel gave a happy whistle as his tiny wife dragged him out the door, making him hop and skip on his pegleg to keep up. “Have fun kids, don’t get eaten, or let it eat the town.”

#

 

On the road as evening fell, Plumeria was lecturing from the driver’s seat of the Mystery Machine. 

“The poor things are too stupid to become a threat typically, if they wander int a barren locale, they starve, if they find a rich resource, they burst themselves. They will gnaw their way through a beaver dam and drown themselves, or eat their way into the sea.” She shook her blossom strewn head in pity.

“They are usually aimless wanderers, eating until they themselves are consumed. That is why I was surprised to hear that the other did not stay to fight, such is their natural instinct.” 

She nodded sagely as the wagon rumbled along, surrounded by her band of pet humans and their undead mascot.

 

“So what are the chances that two come nibbling out of the waste, headed for towns like they are on a mission?” It asked, in its oddly musical accent.

 

“Dryads do not gamble, nor make odds. We speak with the voice of the land, bearing its timeless wisdom… and this is, as you say, bullshit.” She nodded sagely again. “Like actual bullshit, I suspect that this will provide fertile soil for your further investigations.”

 

Becky patted Annie on her broad chocolate neck and sighed. “I miss Shai’s bells, it feels weird being on the road without her and the little ones.” 

 

“I can’t drag my kids all over creation, this one feels dicey. Something is afoot and we are going to track it down.” He strummed an angry chord. “Flintspire, that fishing village, now Wheatford? All in one winter? We are being fucked with.”

 

Liam had Gary’s field guide out, reading it slowly and with considerable effort. “Nothing here about this behavior either. All the veterans agree, they don’t track straight lines, or get this big this frequently. Not without help.”

He snapped the book closed and tapped it to his chin thoughtfully, the guy was a born scholar. 

 

“Khan, if I cut a groundworm in half, It grows a new mouth and I have two worms, but still only one creature. Right? Two bodies, one creature, the beginnings of a groundworm patch.” Gary was trotting along with the horses and Otho’s cart, strumming his weird guitar in time with their hooves… or they were dancing along to his music, opinions differed, even among the horses.

 

“Indeed, that is how they spread.” The veteran nodded. “Cut them again and you have four… Wolves and bears have been known to harvest them and keep them around for extended periods of time. We use them in our waste disposal system.”

 

“Really? That’s gross. So if I trap one half in a pit and take the other half someplace far away, what happens?” Gary asked, catching the scent of an idea.

“The half in the pit starves. The half you carry away, assuming you feed it, is the same creature and grows a new mouth to feed with.” He shrugged disinterestedly.

 

“What if an accomplice feeds the sumbitch, feeds it a lot, just enough to keep it from bursting itself and get huge, like massive gains. I feed mine a little, to keep it small, then I hide it in a town… miles from its bigger half.”

 

“What kind of lunatic would do that? The large beast would be drawn to… oh, that’s nasty.” Khan and Liam shared a glance and neither smiled. 

 

Paul, who had been marveling at Plumeria, and only half listening to their prattle, sharpened up rapidly. “That would be a violation of the law, no human would do such. It must be some freak accident of chance.”

 

“Paul, the staples used to crucify our unnamed maple dryad were enchanted. Someone purpose built them for the job of draining her life, to summon and imprison a random outsider here. The extra tentacle monster just got swept up in the journey.” Gary steamed angrily in the cold, gloomy evening.

“I got a sniff of the person that made them, if we meet I am going to…” The musician took a deep calming breath. “Paul, I need you, Tallum and Liam to keep an eye on me. Ok? I have murder on my mind, but we have questions to ask. Shai and the kids aren't here to rein me in.”

 

“Shall I not also ‘keep an eye’ on you? That animal rage you keep barely hidden is one of your most endearing features. I should like to see it unmasked.” Plumeria chirped, while Gary was rummaging in a nearby thicket of manzanita and prickly pear.

 

“That’s why you are not on the ‘Keep Gary From Doing Murder’ team. Shai excluded you specifically, you are on the ‘Help Gary Smash The Worm And Wreak Bloody Vengeance’ team with Ivy, Dannyl and Becky.”

He slipped back out of the brush and thorns with a quiet rustle and smiled at Herlick, Bannock and Vera, riding at the head of Wheatford’s small force.

“It feels weird, having you guys along, sorry if things get awkward.”

 

Vera maintained her stoney silence, and simply nodded. “We don’t feel awkward at all, right Bannock?” Madeline remarked happily. “Even a ground dragon is better than a winter sitting on our bunks knitting sweaters.”

 

“You knit, I engage in textile crafts of subtle wit and wimsey.” Bannock sneered at her stout companion, eyeing the scarf of multicolored wool wrapped around her neck with disdain. It was a fine piece of craft, well knit and even, the colors graduated from deep crimson to a light, cheerful pink along its considerable length.

 

“You knit?” Gary asked the pair, running backwards up the road behind his team, still playing a simple tune on his guitar.

 

“Herlick knits, I create textile sculptures.” Bannock said simply. “I do not discuss my art with the unsophisticated.” They sniffed haughtily, but a naughty twinkle hiding in their cool gray eyes told a different story.

 

“Plush monsters boy, cute, adorable, woolen nightmares with button eyes and…” Two loud and sharp trumpet blasts ended Herlick’s tale.

 

“We spotted it, two miles off, it’s big alright and headed for town like we owe it money.” Luna called as she rode up. “Smaller than the last one, but it hasn't had a taste of dryad, I imagine.”

 

“You fail to amuse, mortal. Remember that the last worm is feeding Solange as we speak. We are as eternal as the land itself…” She stared at her with some alien emotion, unknowable to mortals. 

“This worm can no more kill my kind than it can devour the sun from the sky. I will simply bloom from my tree at the next dawn. If my tree were lost, I shall bloom again from a tree in some distant place. That is what it means to be a dryad.”

#

 

Luna found them a fine place to camp. A quarter mile up the road, on a broad, flat expanse of pebbly soil. “I’m bringing Shai’s house here, she needs the workshop. We will be roughing it for a few days.” The musician sang, while conjuring in a secluded glade.

 

The sturdy roundhouse with its slate roof and shed stable appeared from the evening gloom, as though it had been there all along.

“I can’t manage a big bath here, we will have to take turns.” He gasped, sagging onto a boulder. 

 

The small stone lined pond bubbled and swirled fitfully, surging up to the edge and receding in time to his labored breaths. 

“Are you all right, Gary?” Tawny asked, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand in the tradition of all healers.

 

“I've never been this far from Shai, the kids or my house before. Feels like I’m unraveling a little.” He mastered his breathing with the techniques Liam had drilled into him over the last months.

“Need a bath and some sleep.” He murmured as his armor began vanishing. “Make yourselves at home gang.” 

#

 

The whole family met up in the other place, easing the pressure on his insides. “Shai,” He whispered in a quiet moment. “We suspect foul play, someone might have a piece of this worm living in town, or near enough to draw it in.” 

 

“I shall snoop discreetly, an let Otho, Mikkel an Anglin know yer thoughts. Tis a subtle benefit, these shared dreams… an less subtle benefits as well…” She growled, while tugging at his clothes.

#

 

“I think there is little to feed a worm to such size here. This trail leads off into the highlands and barren mountains. You humans tread not these lands, anymore.” Plumeria scowled at the creature below as it chewed and undulated along.

Sleek brown fur rippled and waved hypnotically, accompanied by the scent of rich, fertile soil and warm musky animal. It crawled along, leaving a furrow a dozen yards across. 

“Notice the line of stones down the middle? It consumes any loose stone and soil, digests the organic material and excretes the remainder, the soil crumbles away as the creature’s digestive liquids dissipate leaving a loose stone wall.” She remarked, while Dannyl sketched the creature and dryad in equal measures. “A singular ground dragon leaves this distinctive line of stones, while a patch of lesser worms of the same mass will leave a loose trail of scattered stone on a far wider trail.”

“In areas of abundance, they will create complex patterns with their leavings, as they navigate from one meal to the next, in an endless cycle of consumption, excretion and renewal.” The dryad continued her lecture, Tawny and Becky taking careful notes, while the belligerents gathered their arms.

#

 

“I’m gonna try and turn it back out into the wastes, just in case this is really a freak coincidence. Hold on a minute.” The lunatic ran down the slope, stopping a hundred yards or so in front of that devouring orifice. He began to play his tiny flute, piping at the enormous, toothy maw. 

It swayed slowly, ponderously to the east, gradually shifting by a few degrees off course. Gary ended his song, and the beast rolled back onto its previous path, unerringly pointed at distant Wheatford.

 

He ran back up the slope wheezing at the top. “Nope, it’s going that direction, shifting it takes all I have, then it zeroes back in. Something is calling Thicc Boi to town.” Gary looked a little gray around the eyes but had his spear in hand. 

“I don’t have any new tricks to play. There aren’t enough living creatures around to do anything but feed that guy.”

 

“He’s way too big to pop, he either eats himself into a corner and starves, or eats his way to the sea and drowns.” Khan said. “Or we take him down the hard way.” 

 

Three rapid trumpet blasts sounded, and the troops began to move out. Long bill hooks poked over some shoulders, among the spears and pikes. 

“We do as much damage as we can and then we break off. Circle back and go again.” Vera barked at her assembled foot. 

“The lancers will keep it from figuring out what we are up to until it bleeds out. Adventurers, follow our lead, but keep it simple, this is an endurance trial, not a festival dance.” She glared at Gary on that last note.

“May the god Beast, pity our prey and grant us a victorious hunt!” 

She raised her long, slender lance high, shouting along with her mounted troopers, as the foot rattled Their weapons against breastplates. “Foot! Advance! Lancers, on me!”

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