Travels With a Fairytale Monster

by Elizabeth Gannon

  Dom tried to rein in his temper so that he could focus his energy on regaining his strength. “You’re… insane.” He finally told the man, coming to the realization as he said it.

  “No, I’m just being practical.” Stallo dragged his chair closer to the cell. “The others were incapable of seeing the big picture. Humans though?” Stallo held out both hands. “They see how the world is, deep down. And that’s why they’re taking it over, one species and kingdom at a time.” He poured himself a glass of wine, sounding wistful. “It used to be that this world belonged to us, brother. To the ogre and the Pixie and the wolf, and a hundred other species like us. The magical creatures. Beings of myth and nightmares. Following the Old Ways, or the Forest Code, or the thousand other belief systems which stressed the need to live in balance.” He shook his head. “But the humans don’t play that way, I’m afraid. They saw what we can do… they wanted it for themselves… and they’re no longer afraid of us. They’ve been at war with us for generations now, but we’ve been too blind to see it. One by one, they’ve taken down all of the magical beings. They slaughtered our people. Their efforts caused the Pixies to kill themselves. They sent The Kingdom of One to slaughter the wolves by the hundreds and thousands. Like dominoes, we’ve fallen before their inescapable march… but none of us ever noticed.” He took a sip of his wine. “There’s a new dawn approaching, brother. A new power is rising in a land which formerly had such balance.” He met his eyes. “And it’s not us.”

  “Because you betrayed us, you fucking animal!”

  “I simply sped up the inevitable.” Stallo leaned back in his chair. “The humans would have found us either way. Because they’re tenacious and vicious. They are what our people used to pride ourselves on, before we grew soft. Complacent. But the humans are still hungry. They still want, and they’re unafraid to walk through ancient darkness to get it.” He emptied his wine. “So, I threw my lot in with them. Helped them where I could. And I’ve been richly rewarded for my efforts.” He chuckled in amusement. “While you’ve been living in your cage, shitting in a corner, I’ve been allowed to experience this world in my own way.” He smiled. “This week alone, I’ve destroyed a human village and killed the soldiers stationed at the Crossroads. And I had a marvelous time.”

  Well, that explained why the village had mistook Dom for their attacker, anyway.

  “And what does that have to do with me?” Dom asked, trying to distract the man from noticing the fact that the poison was wearing off and that he could now move his foot.

  “Nothing.” Stallo answered immediately. “Not a damn thing.” He pointed at him. “You, brother, are simply a beast of burden. You’re a weapon. A tool, destined to be disposed of once your usefulness is at an end.” He started to pour himself another drink. “You will soon die like all the other magical creatures of this land.” He made a face. “And I can’t say I’m particularly sad. To be honest, I’ve never really been a fan of magic. It’s a crutch. It’s the easy way. Just look what the humans have managed to achieve without it?” He took another sip of his wine. “The Old Ways are bullshit.”

  “And what?” Dom arched an eyebrow at the man whose name and evil deeds had filled every awful story his grandmother had ever told him. “You just decided to drop by and tell me all this in person?”

  Stallo snorted in amusement. “No, don’t be ridiculous. You, my little og-let, are not that important, I’m afraid. I was simply bored and decided to come have a chat with the last of my countrymen, while I still had the opportunity. Word has it that you won’t be with us for long, sadly. Seems you’re due to be shipped back to Baseland. Midas wants to punish you personally.” He smiled, as if imagining the tortures. He shook his head. “But no, I’m here on other business.” He gestured to their surroundings. “Welcome to the capital of Cormoran, the latest colony of Baseland.”

  Dom’s heart sunk, thinking about how inconsolable Taylor would be to hear that her beloved kingdom had fallen.

  “Oh, yes.” Stallo leaned forward in his chair, noticing Dom’s expression. “The girl.” He pointed at him, a smile appearing on his face. “I had wondered about that.” He chuckled in amusement. “I didn’t think such a thing was possible, but you’ve really fallen for the human girl, haven’t you? I can tell.”

  “She is my mate.” Dom met his eyes. “And if you’ve hurt her in any way…”

  “She’s not your mate.” Stallo interrupted, rolling his eyes. “Humans cannot be the mates of ogres, you silly og-let.”

  “Mine is.”

  “You’re simply fooling yourself because you’re alone.” Stallo assured him condescendingly. “It’s understandable. Humans really are the best of creatures in this world.” He made a face. “To be frank, I was never a big fan of ogres.”

  Dom almost reminded him of the obvious fact the man was an ogre, but held his tongue.

  “I myself have never fucked a human.” Stallo thought out loud, then paused. “Well, not a willing one anyway.” He considered that for a moment. “I bet it’s amazing. All that soft human skin, yielding to your touch…” He closed his eyes, as if imagining it. “I don’t know what’s wrong with your human’s head, or why she’d let a creature like you touch her…” He opened his eyes. “Does she?” He asked in curiosity. “Or did you have to break her first? Make her accept you? Until she loved it?”

  Dom gritted his teeth in rage, trying to remain silent so that he could put everything he had into his recovery. If he blew up now, he’d never get out of here and Taylor would remain in danger.

  “No, she’s not your mate. Humans are incapable of The Pyra. They’re… special. Above that disgusting rite. They’ve been freed from the shackles of the Old Ways, which held back our repulsive people and kept them achieving their true potential.” He shook his head again. “She’s not yours. She’s just some bored human girl who will soon tire of you and send you back to your cage.” He took a sip of his wine. “I had a mate once though.” Stallo told him conversationally. “But she tried to stop me from doing what I had to do. Stood with her father against me and tried to keep me from achieving my dream of finally bringing peace to our people…”

  “By killing them all!” Dom cried, unable to keep himself from pointing out how insane that was.

  Stallo ignored that. “So, she had to go, obviously.” He took a drink from his goblet and was silent for a moment, as if reliving a memory. “I saved her for last.” He all but whispered. “I wanted the human hunters to take their time with her.” His voice sounded a million miles away now, almost a growl. “I enjoyed watching them do that to her far more than I expected. Human men have the most creative ways of hurting a woman, particularly if she’s being obstinate. And ogresses were always obstinate.” He made a face, as if still disapproving of their people’s fairer sex, despite the fact they were now all dead. “In the end, it took them about seven hours to finish her off. Once they had all used her to finish themselves off, if you catch my meaning.” He laughed pleasantly, as if that were the height of wit. “And I know, yes, she was my mate and I shouldn’t have enjoyed watching those human men abuse her like that… but I’m not ashamed to admit that I did. I really, really did. It might be because that she deserved to be profaned in that way, true, but I think more than that… I just liked it.” He finished off his wine. “Some nights… when I’m feeling bored and lonely… I still think about the look on her face as those men touched her. Hurt her. Used her body to make themselves feel good.” He made a low growl of satisfaction, obviously getting off on the memory. “In the end, I thanked the men. And then,” he chuckled again, “paid my respects to her as she died.”

  Dom’s mouth hung open in horrified rage. He literally didn’t know what to even say to that. His grandmother had always told him that Stallo was a deranged murderous madman, but meeting him in person, he was so much worse.

  Human words failed him, and Dom was unable to keep the low furious growl from escaping his lips.

  Stallo leaned forw
ard in his chair, meeting his eyes. “My mate entertained those men and myself for seven hours. And now I can’t help but wonder… can yours beat that record?” He smiled again. “I’m going to go check. Perhaps you’ll enjoy watching as much as I did.”

  And Dom’s temper detonated.

  He was on his feet in a moment, his paralysis forgotten. He let out a deep roar of rage, yanking at the chains which held him.

  “Oh, did that strike a nerve?” Stallo chuckled. “I’m sorry. Perhaps if…”

  But Dom was too far gone to even hear him, yanking at the chains with a fury he’d never before known.

  NO ONE TOUCHED HIS MATE!

  The Pyra washed over him, bathing his skin in flames. But for the first time… the flames didn’t hurt. And they were hotter than they’d ever been, fueled by his love and his anger.

  Stallo’s eyes widened, scrambling to his feet. “That’s… that’s not possible!”

  Dom grew in size, melting the chains from his wrists with almost no effort, the flames causing the thick metal to pool into a puddle on the floor of his cell.

  “You… you can’t do that! You’d need a mate to do that!” Stallo screamed at him again. “She’s not your mate!”

  Dom charged forward, smashing through the cage like it was made of toothpicks, and slamming into Stallo. He hit the man hard enough to send them both across the room, where they crashed through the exterior wall of the castle. They continued to grow in size and pummel each other as they tumbled towards the ground, far below...

  Chapter Twenty

  “I know, I know.” Uriah waved off Ransom’s complaint before she could give it voice. “You don’t even need to say it to me this time. I realize that this is a depressingly archetypical misadventure for us.”

  “You somehow managed to get us double-crossed by both sides.” She reminded him. “You always do something like that.”

  He rested his forehead against the bars of their cell. They’d been taken into custody by the Baselanders and locked up in one of the capital’s dungeons. He had no idea where exactly they were in the city, and he had no clue where their former clients might have ended up.

  He closed his eyes, feeling tired of his life. “My curse is that I always assume people are more honest than I am.”

  “They’re not.” Ransom informed him from her cot. “Smarter? Well… that’s arguable.”

  “So we’ve repeatedly seen, yes.” He heaved a weary sigh. “Damn our gentle dispositions which result in the same errors being repeated ad nauseam.”

  “Told you.”

  “Oh, stop gloating.” He rolled his eyes. “We can’t kill all of our clients, Dove.”

  “Why?”

  “Because as farfetched as it may sound, eventually, someone is going to have to pay us. I know we seem to be having difficulty achieving that felicitous outcome lately, but I remain convinced that eventually, we will receive recompense for all that we’ve done.”

  “Hope not.” She leaned back against the stone wall. “With what we’ve done, it wouldn’t be good.”

  “Nonsense.” He sniffed in indignation. “Though my hands are red when I’m caught, my heart remains unsoiled.”

  “We’ll soon hang.” She warned him seriously. “And the rest of the world with us.”

  “Just because civilization seems on a downward spiral of late, that doesn’t mean it won’t pull out of it. This war can’t last much longer. Sooner or later, someone is going to realize how truly stupid and wasteful it is and stop it.” He shook his head. “Someone… someone will stop it. They’ve got to.”

  “These are the last days.” Her voice was flat as she prophesized their doom. “The shadows descend. The world falls away. Goodnight.”

  “Well, at least we’ll go together.”

  “Hurray.” She deadpanned.

  He shrugged. “It certainly seems to appear that you might be right. But I will go to the gallows a wrongly persecuted man.”

  “Everyone in the Grizzwood is ‘wrongly persecuted’ to hear them tell it.” She reminded him.

  He sniffed in indignation. “My people are the victims of a negative stereotype.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “Your people have a genetic predisposition to crime and violence.”

  “It’s a tragic affliction which I struggle against and I’ll thank you not to bring it up.”

  “’Struggle’?” She repeated with a scoff. “Pfft. Not hardly.”

  “Oh, be quiet.” He waved off her complaint. “I feel that I’ve made great strides for my people and if these are the last days of the world, then I’m going to spend them how I want.”

  “Incarcerated.” She summarized.

  He made a face at her, which she couldn’t see.

  “Real mature, Uriah.” She chastised, somehow knowing what he was doing anyway. She lay back on the bed, her hands behind her head. “I want separate trials.” She decided. “They’re not even going to wait until you’re out of the courtroom to hang you. You’ll open your mouth and killing you will become their holy quest.”

  He sat down on the edge of the cell’s lone cot and rested his face in his hands. He had no idea why their jailors had locked them in the same cell, but it was the lone bright spot of an otherwise dreadful evening. Truth be told, he could think of worse fates than sharing a bed with his partner.

  The woman was the only real friend he’d ever had and the one person in the entire world whose good opinion he wanted. In fact, gaining her respect and forgiveness was his only goal in life.

  “Do you think they’ve already executed the girl and her ogre?” He asked seriously.

  Ransom was silent for a moment. “I would.”

  He nodded, feeling very sad about that news for some reason.

  “No matter.” He cleared his throat, trying to sound confident. “The point is that once again it seems that you and I find ourselves in less than advantageous circumstances, flinching under the most savage bludgeoning of fortune.”

  “Fortune sucks.” Ransom decided. “I prefer wealth.”

  “Most assuredly.” He agreed, absently staring through the bars and out into the corridor of the detention area. Sitting on a nearby table was their pet, locked in a cage of its own. “Oh, poor Dinner.” He commiserated with the animal. “How many days of your short little life have you spent in a jail cell with us?”

  “I blame you.” Ransom informed him.

  “Yes, I know you do.”

  “Should have just killed them.” She all but sang. “Killing them and taking their money would have been easier. I told you that.”

  “No, you didn’t!” He shook his head. “I distinctly recall you telling me to help them because the ogre was all scabby and gross.”

  “I gave him the benefit of the doubt, because he was in love.” She rearranged her head on the pillow. “But then I thought better of it and told you to just kill him, didn’t I?”

  “Yes. You did say that.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “So you always say. But as our association has most catastrophically demonstrated,” he looked down at the floor, trying to keep the shame from his voice, “sometimes there are people I just can’t kill. No matter how much I might want to or how hard I might try.”

  The room fell into awkward silence.

  “Gonna hang now.” She predicted calmly, changing the subject.

  He sighed again. “So it would seem.”

  “Because you’re soft, Uriah.”

  Of course, the sight of his partner lying in bed like that was making him anything but “soft.” But she didn’t need to know that.

  “Yes, so you take great pleasure in reminding me.” He felt so tired. “I’m… I’m sorrier than I can ever possibly tell you, Ransom.”

  She snorted. “Oh, we’ll get out of this.”

  “I wasn’t talking about this.” He whispered. “And you know it.”

  Just as she was about to reply, a woman appeared at the door to their cell and motioned to the guard who acc
ompanied her to open it. Dressed in a rather low-cut silver chest plate, she carried herself like a typical bureaucrat. The sword at her hip indicated otherwise however, and she did not look like a Baselander. Or a Cormoranian, for that matter.

  The silver accruements and her exotic appearance pointed to her being Adithian. Just what a foreigner to these shores could want with them was a mystery however.

  She smiled at him pleasantly, in the way one does when wanting to begin a business meeting. “Captain Uriah, the Ocean’s Shame.” It wasn’t a question. She already knew who he was, and in his experience, it was never good when someone knew more about you than you knew about them.

  He mirrored her happy smile. “Ah, my reputation precedes me, once again.”

  “Better hope not.” Ransom snarked.

  He pretended not to hear that. “If you are here representing the management of this place of condemnation, my partner and I have a list of suggestions on how to make your establishment more comfortable for its guests.”

  “Separate cells.” Ransom recommended. “Definitely, separate cells.”

  “Or perhaps candles to add to the amorous atmosphere the single cot seems to suggest.” He added.

  Ransom kicked at him in annoyance. “And how could candles help with a mood? I’m blind. You could set up a fucking lighthouse in here and I wouldn’t know it. Use your head, Uriah.”

  Now it was the strange woman’s turn to pretend she didn’t hear something. Their guest pinched her little features into a puzzled expression. “’The Ocean’s Shame.’” She repeated questioningly. “Is that because you do so many wicked things while upon the innocent sea?”

  “Absolutely.” He assured her immediately. “That’s exactly what it means.”

  “’Ocean’ meaning ‘pirates.’” Ransom clarified. “And ’embarrassment’ was too long.”

  He shot her an annoyed look, which she couldn’t see anyway, so it was a useless action.

  “I hate to begin our association on a sour note, but may I inquire as to the status of the people we were brought in with?” He asked her pleasantly. “They’re annoying, but…”