Chapter 83: Ch: 75 A Good Fit For Misfits

Ch: 75 A Good Fit For Misfits

Shai heckled and derided her man and kin for an hour or more over; “The Basement Boat” and “The Dirt Yacht”. She got her hands dirty too, helping Tallum with Garys ‘screw’, a large bronze cone with massive flanges spiraling off to round, blunt lobes. 

“This be no screw of any kind boy. Tis huge and blunt. I begin tae worry for thee. Whae ever shall ye do with that massive engine there?” 

Over in the corner, under a tarp sat a huge version of one of Gary’s odd ‘sandwich motors’. Two disks of inscribed and enchanted bronze, ‘sandwiched’ a massive geared flywheel of iron, also inscribed and enchanted with obscure glyphs and runes. 

 

“Wait till you see… wait till you see.” He giggled. “Now I need a hefty steel rod, a real chonker, the measurements are on the bench. Tallum, let’s talk about universal joints, gotta give that shaft room to flex…” They wandered over to Tallum’s corner to discuss ‘Drive shaft linkage’ or some such foolishness.

 

“Becky, how did he wrap you up in this latest madness?” Ivy asked from the stairs. “Come up and eat, we have guests as well.”  She cast an appraising eye at her dirty, sweaty man. 

“Tallum, clean yourself up, these idiots can look like tradesmen on shift if they like, my man will be decent at breakfast with Celeste and Leo...”

 

“Tawny’s folks? Sweet! I wonder what they want…” Gary burbled happily while test fitting an enormous bearing race. “be up in a minute. …”

 

it is, it is a glorious thing… 

to be the pirate king!

 

He sang happily while putting away his tools and projects. “Be this more of yer ‘Dread Pirate Shai’ bollocks?  I shall smite thee boy!” She laughed as she tidied up her own workspace. 

 

“As you wish…” He said again in that same infuriating way.

#

 

Amy and Wilford had everything in order, under Plumeria’s firm guidance. The notables were seated by the fire chatting with the dryad. In a scanty white veil, Celeste sat and demurely stirred her tea, while Leo figited awkwardly and kept messing with his bushy blonde mustache.

 

“Mashed tatoes.” Wilford said firmly, while eyeballing the poorly disguised duke. “You have mashed tatoes on your face. It’s not real.”

 

Leopold put on the expression Tawny remembered from her own childhood as he spoke with the young hooligan in the leather jacket. “Mashed potatoes? Do you mean my fine and totally real mustache?” 

He wiggled his nose and preened the dreadful horsehair rug glued to his lip. “You will grow your own some day lad… perhaps even one so fine as this!”

 

“Father, Wilford is a very unusual young person, he will not fall for your… Dear gods and spirits, grant me strength.” She sighed in utter despair.

The pair were rough housing on the rug, even while she was scolding them. Wilford fought to snatch away the offending ‘stache, while the duke battled to defend his upper lip, with comical pitty-pats and flailing hands.

 

“Boys are dumb.” Amy took her hand and led the young healer away from the chaos. “That’s why Shai will be our captain when the pirate ship is ready.”

Before that statement had time to digest, Tawny was by the fire with her mother. She joined her in watching the goings on, with a mixture of confusion and amusement on her face.

“No my dear, they never really grow up… if you are lucky.” She cast a fond, golden and hopeful smile at her daughter. “I hope your Liam has a child’s heart still beating within him, for your sake. He seems so dour.”

 

“I have no worries on that score, mother. He and Gary are very good for eachother, If Shai and I can keep them from killing themselves.” Tawny said quietly, as their hosts began to emerge from the baths.

 

“Leo, Celeste! Sorry to keep you waiting, we were down in the workshop, making a mess of ourselves!” Gary was bouncy and effusive, a dangerous combination to Tawny’s mind.

“What brings you to our door so early? Was it Shai’s apple crumble coffee cake? It’s too early in the day to taste any of my creations…” He winked at the nobles. 

“Harlan is still in the bath battling a hangover from his tasting last night. Distilling is an art, I’m still scribbling on cave walls there, but I’m getting better.”

 

Plumeria held aloft a tiny cup of something evil smelling and smiled. “You have a gift for it boy, keep working at it!”

 

“Stay out of my lab you lush, all my fruit trees will be getting the bees drunk this spring!” He complained, shaking a jolly fist at the ancient spirit. “Is that my grappa experiment? Not even you can drink that… I was gonna give it to Dannyl for paint thinner.”

 

“This house truly is mad.” Celeste remarked calmly while nibbling at Shai’s coffee cake. “The food is extraordinary, however. Allowances can be made for gifted eccentrics, remember our great uncle Rollof?” She sighed, thinking back fondly. 

“He made the most wonderful mead, despite his insistence that nude beekeeping was the only correct method. Such a terrible way for him to die.” She whispered to Tawny.

 

“How did he die, mother? No one ever would say.” Tawny asked smoothly, prying at forbidden family secrets.

 

“Stung to death, he thought to branch out into scorpion keeping… the poor dear.” She whispered back in gossipy glee. “He would seem quite sane beside this Gary fellow. If even a fraction of last night's madness is true…”

 

“Sadly, it’s all true, as best I can tell… and more to come.” Gary whispered from directly beside her, where he was seated comfortably, with a coffee mug in hand and a saucer of cake on his knee.

 

“Dear gods! Sneaky git!” Celeste shrieked in surprise and displeasure. “Don’t you dare laugh, Trelawny Helene Belen!” Tawny blushed molten bronze at the use of her full name and Gary pounced.

 

Now it was Gary’s turn to laugh. “Helene? Your middle name is Helene, as in Paul’s aunt Helene?” He giggled, distracting Celeste from her outrage.

 

“Oh, yes, she hates it too, just as she cannot abide her great aunt Helene of War.” Leo announced cheerfully, while helping Wilford adjust his mustache. “Hmm, let’s try this Wilf…”

 

“Not Wilf!” Shai and Gary sang in chorus.

 

Seated in comfortable sofas, with Becky, Tawny and the kids hanging out nearby, Gary and Shai faced off with Celeste and Leo.

“How much of last night was bluster and fart, boy?” Leo grumbled.

 

“All of it, but it was all true as well. The god in question doesn't seem to have a name, or at least nobody that knows it has fallen into my clutches yet. The dryads and ents are waking up around us, so should the smaller fae as spring approaches.”

The duke sat and watched the boy prattle about myths and legends for a while. Until Celeste started asking questions.

 

“Healer is desperate to know how Knowledge, Beast and Joy are pulling this trick. Contracting children, even orphans in their dreams… She is too excited for me to hear her clearly.” Celeste was demanding gently.

 

“That’s a deeper secret. Healer will need to talk with my agents directly, I don’t have any control over how that works.” The boy replied… and Celeste accepted that for an answer.

 

“Fae indeed, this magic… Celeste never took a no from me so easily!” Leo complained, while bouncing Amy on his knee. “We should have another child…”

 

“Leopold!” She scolded, while pretending she had not just been tickling Wilford’s hilarious mustache. “Such talk! Shame on you.”

“Don’t let them fool you Gary. I have seven brothers and sisters, these two are intolerable at home.” Tawny sang sweetly from the pianoforte, while Liam accompanied on guitar. The looks the two kept giving eachother were becoming a distraction.

 

“Hey, Liam, try an acoustic, ok? That’s a little over the top for a family meeting.” Gary called out from his seat beside an increasingly agitated Shai.

 

“Curse you and you haunted guitar Gary!” Tawny fumed, while Liam blushed furiously and tried to disappear into his own pockets. Celeste was looking a little flushed too.

 

“This is a place of deep chaos, it is steeped into the very stones that are not really there.” A slightly drunken dryad told the duke, while she struggled with the cork in a clay jug. “Help me with this moonshine, duke of man, I will reward your realm with bountiful harvests…”

“You have had enough, Plumeria. I swear, the things I put up with.” Gary complained, while pouring the grumpy spirit a cup of honeyed milk.

“So yeah, now you know as much as I can tell. I’m just a maker of musical instruments and general nobody. What brings you around this morning?” He asked, while holding the tiny woman in his arms as she drifted off to sleep.

“How am I supposed to respond to this… information?” Leo demanded “What is next?”

 

“I dunno, you’re the duke, I only got here in midsummer. Maybe find out why your sacred taxmen are zombie horrors and start doing something about that? Start breaking the summoning spells, rather than fighting outsiders?” He shrugged. 

“Ritual magic needs a stable environment. The ritual keeping Lilith in this plane was a two hour ride away from her. Finding and breaking the ritual has to be easier than fighting whatever these assholes conjure.” 

He looked grim as he spoke. “Tell your people, the creatures and whoever or whatever creature they abuse to summon it, are victims in this. Your cultists are to blame for any harm.” He stood up and stretched out. 

“I have a lot of work to do, as you guys do as well. We picked up a contract to scout the marsh for nasties before the causeway crew starts work. An adventurer’s work is never done.” He winked broadly at the nobles.

“A friend of ours lives there, she is awake and defending her territory now, so really it’s a social visit on company time, don’t tell the duke. We working class stiffs gotta stick it to the man when we can, right fellow peon? Fight the power!”

 

“Gary, enough.” Leo said firmly. “There are larger…” The fool blustered on, orating to an imaginary crowd as he stood and walked to the garden door.

 

“No war but the class war! Labor is the foundation of prosperity! Seize the means of product… wait… I am the means of production in a lot of ways… Shai! Seize me!” 

He still had a sleeping drunken dryad in his arms, so she followed him instead, waving apologies to the nobles, still sitting by the fire looking confused.

 

“Tawny, you have a lot to explain, and bring me more of that cake… delightful!” Celeste said very firmly. 

“I thought that Zygnos was difficult to deal with… This boy is a disaster. We should foster him to someone in Order to settle him down. Maybe Paul?” She mused.

 

“Mother, if you try that, he will likely disappear into the waste with his family, and a good portion of yours.” Tawny sounded sharp, startling both her parents. 

“Has not Healer told you that Knowledge is her long lost brother? Need I remind you that over two hundred young people have Contracted with Knowledge in the last few weeks? Joy and Beast have had numerous Contracts forged outside the formal Contract system. Things are changing, and those changes are real.”

 

While she spoke, the musician bustled in, without a dryad, and vanished down into his workshop with a wave.

“He’s building Shai a pirate ship. But Shai is absolutely not a dread pirate. No sir!” Amy confided in a  deafening whisper. “We’re going sailing!”

#

 

“No Amy, the boat won’t be ready for the water for a while. Esperanza should be back soon, maybe you can go for a ride with her. First we have to go visit Kai and some new friends, you are going to love them.” Gary spent a few minutes smoothing ruffled feathers on Amy’s side at bedtime.

#

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“Green capped ruffians” continued to appear and vanish with annoying frequency, always just where Angbold was not. They seemed to have a talent for running out of their samples and vanishing before he even got close. The locals clenched tighter than a frog’s butthole whenever he inquired about obtaining their samples.

“Those are suspect! You must surrender them to me for examination!” His perfectly reasonable entreaties were snubbed, often quite rudely. He commiserated in the tavern with Craft priest Theophus over a pitcher of acceptable quality ale.

“Infuriating, Otho has let the orphans run wild, honest citizens cannot do business unmolested.” Theo griped, while making a face. What is that noise?”

 

“That’s my son, he’s learning the flute at the orphanage, learning to read too. My son, learning to read, who would have thought…” Master Weyeth said dreamily. “Never had a scholar in the family before, I find I like the idea.”

The two stared icily at the innkeeper until he stiffened and marched away. “I wish to wrap up my business in this town and return home, can you pressure the duke to end this matter?” 

Angbold wrung his hands in distress. “Did you know a ground dragon was headed for this town just last week? Some adventurers shifted themselves to end the threat… gods, these backwaters.”

 

“My request for transfer to the Port Clement Craft temple will find a strong ally in your guild I assume, master Merchant Angbold…” Theo smirked. “Rest assured I will use my influence to bring these ragamuffins to heel.”

#

 

“We call them Ragamuffins, buttery puff pastry, with chocolate baked in the middle, try one.” The urchin with the green cap was saying, just as Theo exited the in an hour later, swaying slightly.

A tiny boy in a green horsie cap was passing out small pastries to strolling shoppers in the market square. He had a brightly painted tray slung around his neck, draped with clean white linen. 

“Ragamuffins, the latest from the Sweet Tooth guild, try one before they are all gone…” He sang.

“Hold there you young rascal!” Theo bellowed. “You are mocking me! How dare you.. You… ragamuffin orphan!” He sputtered, turning an unhealthy shade.

 

“Sorry, Craft priest Theo, I’m all out of samples… I better run and get more!” He kicked one of those cursed wheel boards under his feet and vanished like the wind, while the priest was still fighting to find words.

#

 

With an official adventure guild contract under their belt and another awaiting pay out, the Bathers cantered down the now familiar River Road at a startling speed. The dog cart trundled along, followed by a wagon driven by the coachman, journeyman Gannet and pulled by his matched chestnut mares.

 

Otho and Amicus rode in the wagon, bundled in blankets, smiling widely and chattering like songbirds in spring. Solange sat beside the driver, enjoying his homespun conversation, while the mages discussed her.

“The enchantments on the marionette body are remarkable enough, but its connection with her essence is also profound…” Amicus nattered and droned.

“...spiritual compatibility is another issue entirely, the power source, that is the major issue. The assembly seems to draw entirely on the boy, without draining him…” Otho prattled away.

 

“Let me remind you, gentlemen, ‘the assembly’ is a sentient being. One old enough to have watched your ancestors fling their bodily waste at each other.” Solange quipped. 

“Journeyman Gannet has the courtesy to address me by name. You might receive some answers to your queries if you followed his example…” 

 

“They mean no harm Sol, it comes from reading too many books and not enjoying the fresh air outdoors.” Gannet soothed. “Journeyman Larksong said that dryads are all around us, just sleeping, but no one knew how to wake them. Is that true?”

 

“Not precisely, there is a ritual of invitation, if you perform it correctly and the local dryad is amenable, you may be visited. The deadma… Gary can show you the way of it.” Solange focused on the man, bringing just a touch of her massive weight of age down on him. “What do you know of this Gary, as humans reckon things?”

 

“Like any wise drayman, I checked their guild references. They are a very new group, but very, very active. Their record is almost unbelievable for such a young band. Of this Gary, I know nothing but rumor and what I have seen… He seems mad, though harmlessly so.” 

He flicked the reins to one hand and grabbed his whip, flailing at a chestnut rump with fury. “Joony hates flies, one bite, she swells up like a hornet sting.”

 

“I have something for that!” The musician chimed in, from right beside them. Where he had been playing his instrument and running alongside… unnoticed… for who knows how long.

 

“Ghaaaa!” The teamster yelped. “Good gods man, is that how you got your name? Snuck out of your mother and spooked the midwife? ‘We’ll call him Gahh!ry’…” The young man sang in a high, feminine falsetto.

 

“Not bad. Ever considered being a singing teamster? Road songs, accompanied by the clopping of hooves…” He began to play again, in time with his familiars’ natural hoofbeats.

 

Did you ever hear tell of Sweet Betsy from Pike,

Who crossed the wide mountains with her lover Ike,

 

Two yoke of cattle, a large yeller dog,

A tall Shanghai rooster, and a one-spotted hog.

 

Despite the lyrics, by the end he had them clapping and grinning along with ‘Sweet Betsy From Pike’, so he kept strumming.

 

I am an old-timer, I travel-the-road

 

I sit in me wagon and lumber me load

 

Me hotel is the jungle, the caff me abode

 

And I'm well-known to Blondie and Ma-ry

 

‘Champion At Keeping Them Rollin’ was an odd song, out of place and time when it was written, but the dubliners had a banger. Jenny and Joony thought so at least. They pranced and clopped along happily on the big finish.

 

You may sing of your your soldiers and sailors so bold

But there's many and many a hero untold

 

Who sits at the wheel in the heat and the cold

Day after day without sleeping

 

So watch out for cops and slow down at the bend

Check all your gauges and watch your big end

 

And zig with your lights when you pass an old friend

You'll be champion at keeping them rolling!

 

“Gods boy, do you never run out of songs?” Gannet laughed as his familiars frisked along. “If you were serious about having some concoction for flies, I’d be interested, poor dear has a hard time down in the lowlands in summer. That’s the main reason we moved here…” He lied, while watching Larksong string her bow on horseback with a hungry look in his eye.

 

“I have a vermin ward charm, a little tag you put on her halter or harness, it’s kind of a speciality of mine.” He held up a tiny bronze bell. “Have one on the house, it should repel fleas, flies, mosquitos, rats, even nuisance level predators. Its range is the sound of the bell.”

 

The carter looked the object over, tinkled it a few times and shrugged. “It’s a pleasant sound at least, sure thanks!”

The boy hooked it on her bridle and trotted off to some other part of the troupe to confuse and entertain. The bell jingled sweetly and no more flies appeared, but in the very first rush of spring… that could be simple chance.

Over the low rolling hills, they camped in the same wondrous and mad inn, elaborate baths and all. “This is the life!” Gannet enthused in the bath, as pipes were passed around. 

The horses and familiars were in the big pool, enjoying themselves thoroughly, with the youngsters and dryad. That left Khan, Luna, the two old mages and the Sparrowhawks in the private bath to gossip.

“I like these youngsters.” Rootedbear said with finality.

 

“That settles that.” Runningtree remarked dryly, while swatting her enormous brother on the shoulder. “The way they feed us, you would probably jump crews if you weren't my own brother.”

 

“About that… you’re adopted and I’m joining them. Did you try that Ragamuffin thing?” He growled hungrily.

 

Larksong splashed a huge volume of water with her gift from that spirit, drenching the big man and putting out his pipe. “Thank you cousin. If only my brother had loyalty to match his appetite.” Runningtree said smugly, even though she was also drenched.

 

“They have their own agenda and are not accepting new members currently, sorry friend.” Luna patted the big man as he pretended to weep. “We have a death’s head locust for dinner. We flushed it while scouting, our boy Liam is a terror with that spear.”

 

“Spear is enchanted…” Khan murmured around his pipe stem. “If he’s planning to eat the creature, he cuts deeper and hits harder, if he’s tasted its kin before, things get more… well just more. The next ground dragon we meet is in for a tough day.”

 

“So it’s true? These greenies took down two worms?” Evard asked in his broad fisher’s accent.

 

“What do you think you are so tired of eating? This house is stuffed to the rafters with worm meat. That is a disgusting thought…” Khan mulled that over a little longer before stuffing his pipe back where it belonged and smoking it away.

#

 

“Gang, this is Streeka the seer, in the lodge we only use clan or species names, so I only know the rest as Coyote, Wolf and Squirrel.” Gary presented his non-human friends to his more or less human friends and family. 

Coyote was Uff, shaman and born comic. The guy was funny without even trying, He had the prey and play drives of a puppy, and a mellow wit that hit on a few levels.

 

Wolf had a gruff and growly attitude, concealing a gentle nature, Pogo loved the water and the kids, Amy and Wilford immediately liked him, so that was cool. 

 

Prinz the squirrel was charm itself and as fast as lightning all the time. He lept from horse to horse with glee while chittering too fast for anyone to make out. He buzzed by Gary and Shai, shouting in his tiny voice. “I never tried coffee before!”

 

“Hes fun, let’s get him some warm milk and a snack.” Becky remarked dryly while watching the tiny creature scamper.

 

“Feels like home…” Gary murmured in quiet bliss.

 

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