by J. P. Rice
He blinked a few times, his eyelids becoming lazy. A glazed look washed over his weathered face. “It took me ten years to make it to the castle.”
The Morrigan erupted, “Ten years? We don’t have ten years.”
“I was not finished,” Dolphus intoned. “If you will allow me...”
Titania cut him off and said, “I bet you flew in, didn’t you?”
Dolphus sighed and closed his eyes. “I appreciate the enthusiasm ladies, but just allow me to speak. I didn’t get in through the air. Winged predators are perched atop the trees that hide the castle. Breaching the castle by air would likely be impossible.”
I asked, “So how did you do it?”
“He went underground?” Justinian guessed.
“Now there is one smart werewolf,” Dolphus said.
The Morrigan asked, “How did you know he’s a wolf?”
Dolphus replied, “I’m not the smartest lad in the pub, but I know a wolf when I see one. I may not be the strongest man...”
I cut him off as he drunkenly veered off topic, “Hey, let’s get back to the underground passage.”
He paused for a second and gathered his thoughts. “It took me ten years to dig the tunnel. It starts at the rune stone in the woods right outside Boskytown, on the outskirts of the swamp. The passageway is covered by a boulder taller than any of you. I trust she has the ability to move it,” he said, gesturing with his eyes to the Morrigan.
“So what part of the swamp do you end up in?” I asked.
A lazy but proud smile developed on his face. “You don’t end up in the swamp.”
“How?” the Morrigan inquired. “I thought the swamp surrounded the Goblin Queen’s castle.”
“It does.” Dolphus hesitated, and said, “For the most part. But not entirely. There is a one- to two-mile radius around the castle that is solid forestland. The giant trees keep the castle covered from sunlight, the natural enemy of the goblin. They operate much better in gloomy darkness.”
“So this underground tunnel takes you into the forest, completely bypassing the swamp,” the Morrigan said, more or less thinking out loud.
Dolphus nodded and closed his eyes. “Precisely, madam.”
“But won’t the birds come down from the trees and attack?” Justinian asked.
Dolphus responded, “They will not as they are focused on the threats coming from above. There are guards that patrol the land, but because no one has penetrated the castle other than yours truly, they’ve become lazy in their duties. Be aware of them, but they shouldn’t pose a problem.”
“Okay, so even if you got onto safe land outside the castle, how did you get in?” I wanted to know.
Dolphus looked at me, his eyes blinking and lips curling up. The proud man seemed to be enjoying himself. He had a Goddess asking him for advice, which would naturally stoke anyone’s confidence.
He winked at me. “You remind me of my first wife. Different hair and a bigger body, though. Always wanted to know everything about everything. Just as impatient too.”
I hated to ruin his trip down memory lane, but we had to take care of some serious shit. “Look, I hate to rush you, I really do, but we’re trying to save lives and every second counts.”
“Right. Where was I?” Dolphus asked, fumbling through his thoughts.
“You were telling us how to get into the castle from the woods,” Titania reminded him.
“She woulda liked you,” Dolphus said, staring at me. “Right, so you need to find the redwood with the number 7 carved into the trunk. They number the bigger trees to establish areas for the guards to protect. Well, I came to find out the goblin in charge of the area around number seven was a wicked drunk.”
Dolphus cleared his throat, turned his head slightly and spat out a little wad. “After scouting the area for weeks, I found a long branch on the redwood that stretched down near the castle. As I got farther out on the limb, I realized the branch led right up to the balcony of the Queen’s changing room.”
Dolphus gazed at his ring, and with a nostalgic smile, he said, “She kept the ruby ring on her dresser, next to a golden bowl of jewels and gems. I snatched it and ran out onto the balcony, jumped and caught the tree branch and scurried back up to the trunk. Once I reached land, I ran as fast as I could back to my secret exit.”
I realized a gigantic problem. “Wait. They know how you escaped. That means the tunnel will be closed off or destroyed.”
He shook his head. “Unless I used a different tunnel for escape. Sure, they know all about the second tunnel, but I covered the first one well enough that they should never find it. Besides, they’d already found my escape route, they had no reason to look for another.”
The Morrigan thought aloud, “And once we use the tunnel, we’ll have no use for it again, so it doesn’t matter if they find it on our way out. We’d need to remember that once we escape the swamp, we still won’t be in the clear.”
Dolphus gave us precise directions to the rune stone and as much detail of the interior of the castle that he remembered. He started regaining feeling in his body again and leaned back on the base of a tree.
He moved his hand in front of his face and smiled. “I can move again.” His gaze bounced from me to the Morrigan to Titania and finally landed on Justinian. “I trust you will keep my name silent.”
“What was your name again?” I joked.
“Dolphus Aquinus,” he stated proudly, stressing each syllable.
He wasn’t too quick on the uptake. I said, “I meant that we will forget it as soon as we leave. You can go back to the carnival and show off your ring. I’ll admit, it’s quite impressive.”
Dolphus tried to get up and wobbled, then fell back down on his posterior. “Perhaps a few more minutes to recover.”
“Thank you so much for the information. It probably just saved his life,” I joked, gesturing toward Justinian. The wolf gave me a sour look as he shook his head.
We got set to leave and everyone said goodbye to Dolphus. He waved, his fingers moving slowly, and said, “You’re quite welcome. Have fun storming the castle.”
I smirked at the unintentional reference from The Princess Bride and we headed out of the forest to find the rune stone in Boskytown.
Chapter 13
We made it to the rune stone and found a group of elves surrounding the mysterious rock. They were kneeling and praying under the soft moonlight. We assumed they would be there most of the night, so we decided to set up camp and continue in the morning.
That would give us better visibility to detect anyone in the area and when we arrived on the other side, we wouldn’t be blinded by darkness. As with most places in Sleepy Willow, the woods were never too far away. We paced toward the tree line on our left and entered another forest.
Sleepy Willow was a Celtic netherworld. After Tir na nȎg filled up quickly with supernatural beings, Sleepy Willow was established as the second otherworld. The fallen angels known as the sidhe were the dominant race, but the land housed Fae creatures and beings from all walks of life. You never knew what you would run into in this land.
We collected kindling and any pieces of wood we could find on our way to a small clearing surrounded by heavy brush. Justinian built a fire, and Titania already started dozing off.
The Morrigan’s hand disappeared into her cloak. “Can’t wait to get this bra off.”
“Aw. Do you want me to have Owen craft you a special sports bra like he did for Titania?” I joked.
“I may just need to look into that.” She pulled her black bra out of the cloak, folded it and stuffed it into a pocket near her hip.
The Morrigan conjured a pillow for herself—that selfish bitch—and curled up next to the fire. Titania was already snoozing on a small plank of wood and Justinian was stoking the fire.
“Having fun? You love bra talk, right?” I asked the wolf.
“More fun than being a prisoner of the wolf house,” he revealed and tossed his poking stick into the fla
mes.
“Prisoner?” I conjured two blankets and two pillows for us.
Justinian grabbed a pillow from me. “Pretty much. And Octavius and Caesar tell me I’m lucky at that.”
“Lucky to be a prisoner?” I asked, as a nocturnal animal howled in the distance.
Justinian’s eyes widened with concern. “They think I should drop to my knees every day and thank the Gods that I am alive.”
I said, “Seems a bit strong.”
“It’s because of my eyes,” he revealed.
“What’s wrong with your eyes?” I asked, but already knew the answer.
“They’re blue. Remember when you made fun of me and called me a freak on the steps of my house,” he reminded me.
I turned away and fluffed my pillow. “In my defense, you had already unloaded on me. I didn’t insult you out of the blue.”
“Nice word choice,” he said and nodded. “You know every wolf is born with brown eyes. They almost threw me to the wild because I didn’t fit the mold.”
“So what happened?” I swept the twigs and brush away from my sleeping area. The Morrigan snored softly. I looked at her and Titania and wondered how they could get to sleep so fast.
Justinian raised his head to the sky, but the tree branches above covered up the moon and stars. “My mother made an impassioned speech in my defense. Basically insisted that if they sent me away, she would chase after me, every waking hour of every day until she found me.”
“You must really love her.”
He said, “Of course. I spend little time with the men as I have hardly anything in common with them.”
“What do you do?” I covered myself with the blanket.
Justinian threw another piece of wood on the fire. “I learn. Which is frowned upon by the men of the pack. They’re all into sports and quote, unquote, manly things.” He made the finger symbols to reinforce his point. Shaking his head, he asked, “What the hell is a touchdown? Is that a moon landing reference?”
“No.” I grinned. “A touchdown is when a football player crosses the goal line with the ball. They could also catch the ball in the endzone. And I suppose they could recover a fumble too.”
Justinian turned to me with confusion in his eyes. “What in the name of the Gods are you blathering about?”
So much for him wanting to learn. “Nothing. Forget it. Why is learning frowned upon?” I asked.
Justinian blew on the coals of the fire to ignite the new piece of wood. The damp log tried to resist, but the intensity of the glowing coals proved too much, and soon, blue flames climbed up the wood. “Because Octavius needs to keep control of the family. And the best way he sees fit is to keep everyone stupid so they won’t question the backward ways of living he preaches. None of it makes sense to me.”
“What specifically are you referring to?” I wanted to know as I lay back on the ground in Sleepy Willow.
He paused for a moment and his eyes shifted around as if he didn’t know where to start. “The mating for one. Incest is fucking gross. Octavius wonders where all these birth defects come from. Like it’s some big mystery. His head is so twisted, he nearly threw me to the wild because of my eye color. I don’t say this lightly, but the pack would be better off with Caesar at the helm.”
Very interesting. “Can’t argue with you there. I get along with Caesar much better than Octavius.”
“Everyone does,” he said and lay on his side with his head propped up on his hand. “I wouldn’t say we’re hoping Octavius meets his demise, but it’s time for a change. I’m pretty much chained to the house. Never get to do what I want.”
“What do you want to do?” I asked the obvious question.
He smirked shyly and turned away, his neck reflecting the dancing flames of the fire. “It’s a silly dream”
“Every dream is silly. Spill the beans,” I encouraged him.
Justinian took a few deep breaths, contemplating whether to tell me. “I’d like to be an alto singer. I have a zest for performance. To entertain people. The artists are the ones who keep this world spinning.”
“How so?”
He stared into my eyes and spoke passionately, “Because when people are driven to their wit’s end by the doldrums of real life, they look for an escape. Sure, some choose drugs and drinking, but most people look for a release in the form of reading, watching a movie or a show or through music. If not for the artists, life would be rather dull.”
He made a good point. I said, “Never thought about it like that.”
Justinian went on, “I have a friend who is an author. He barely makes enough to survive. He hasn’t bought anything for himself in over two years. His fans will complain when he raises his prices, so he keeps them so low that he lives just above the poverty line.”
I opined, “That’s not cool.”
“Not cool at all,” he agreed. “Most of his fans who buy his books make much more money than he does. But when they need an escape, there he is, entertaining them like a clown. And a broke clown with messed up makeup at that. It always surprised me that some artists who create original content can be paid so poorly, yet two-bit actors spouting the same lines over and over make all the cash.”
I said, “I guess you don’t get to practice your singing very much.”
Justinian chuckled sorrowfully. “You would be correct. Octavius would kill me on the spot if he heard me. That’s why I want to leave the house, but he won’t allow it.”
“Where do you want to go?” I asked.
Barely able to contain his excitement, he sat up again. “New York City. The culture. The museums. The people. Perhaps start working Off-Broadway, and then hopefully if I am good enough, make it into a show on Broadway. But if I try to leave, Octavius will have me hunted down and killed.”
“He does like that move,” I said and thought this could be the perfect opportunity to get some information out of Justinian. “I need to ask you a few questions about him. I know you guys don’t shift off the lunar cycle, but he’s tried to convince me that you only shift when you are scared and feeling cornered. As a defense mechanism. I’m calling BS.”
He smirked. “We shift easiest at night when the moon is full, but we don’t rely on it. And Octavius is telling the truth. But it’s only half the truth. We can also shift when we are angry,” he revealed.
I yelled, “I fookin’ knew it.” I lowered my voice out of respect to my snoozing sisters. “That liar.”
“I think his madness is driven by the lies. There are so many of them, they are hard to keep track of. He forgets whether he has lied about something and changes his stories around to suit his current agenda. He’s very transactional,” he explained.
“So you guys don’t use magic tattoos on your wrists,” I wondered aloud.
“No, none of that.” Justinian tossed more wood on the fire.
The fire cracked, and I slid back another foot to avoid any flying coals. “So you want to go to New York to get away from Octavius. I can dig that.”
As my head hit the pillow, he said, “That isn’t the real reason I want to get out of there.”
This got more interesting by the sentence. “What then?”
A disgusted look came over his face like he had smelled something gross. “Next year. I turn twenty-one. Means I start breeding. And no matter how much the pack tries to normalize it, it is not normal to mate with your sister. It’s downright gross.”
“You won’t find an argument from me. Many dynasties throughout time have thought that keeping it in the family created a super bloodline. Science has proven that the complications get worse as time goes on.”
“Exactly. I’m not trying to make a mutant wolf that gets thrown to the wild. I was hoping with my eye color that they wouldn’t want me to breed. But I’m not having sex with one of my sisters. Octavius will have to kill me on the spot if he tries to force me into that.” Justinian went back to poking the fire, which came across as a nervous habit.
I thought
about something and said, “You know, I’ve never seen a female member of your pack before.”
Justinian smirked again, and for the first time, he looked cute. His face had gone from overwhelmingly punchable to totally kissable. Not for me. But perhaps we could find him a nice lady who he wasn’t related to.
He said, “Because Octavius keeps the women hidden away. They are there for breeding, feeding, clothing and cleaning. Paternal driven atmosphere. The men don’t let the women take part in the dangerous aspects of the family business.”
“Can they shift too?” I asked, wishing I had the ability to conjure a softer pillow as I wrestled with it.
He tossed his head from side to side in indecision as he stared into the fire. “They can, but it’s much harder for them. I’m not sure why. Perhaps they don’t carry the anger that most of the men do.”
“What’s it like to shift?” I wanted to know.
“I don’t know,” he said defensively. He turned to me and made eye contact. “What did it feel like when you ripped out Cicero’s heart and held it above your head like a trophy?”
Oh, damn. This had taken a turn I’d hoped to avoid. “Sounds like you had that one loaded up. I don’t even remember that. And I wish I hadn’t done it.”
Justinian turned back to the fire and slammed another log on top, the tiny red sparks jumping high in the dark air. “Still counts. He’s dead and gone, yet your hands are clean of blood. You’ve washed it all away. He was the only male member of the pack I could talk to about my secrets. Now, I have nobody.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I said solemnly. I really was sorry.
“It feels like someone is ripping your body apart. The shifting,” he said. He thought for a moment and continued, “Like a demon has entered your insides and bounces around causing your organs to feel like they are shutting down. And then when you think you are about to die, that...that...that strike of lightning hits you. All the pain recedes, and like that.” He snapped his fingers. “You are a killing machine. Barely responsible for your own actions.”