Comedic Fantasy Bundle #1: 4 Hilarious Adventures (Tales from the land of Ononokin)

by John P. Logsdon

  Carl nodded.

  TWANG!

  Paulie was a bit surprised at himself. For obvious reasons he wasn’t exactly a daytime creature, but he had to admit that sitting under the shade of the tree on this calm afternoon was quite pleasant.

  Unfortunately, the sun was moving a bit further west and was starting to light up his hands.

  He pushed away from the table and moved to sit closer to the tree. Not one to be fooled twice, he first checked the tree carefully to make sure there wasn’t an abundant supply of sap waiting to get all over him.

  As he bent down to check the lower portion of the tree he heard a thump and a twang. He peeked around the back of the tree but saw nothing of note. Standing back up he noticed a strange branch jutting out.

  Paulie could have sworn that this branch hadn’t been there before. Its leaves were odd. They were more feathery than leafy. And the branch itself was black while the other branches had a brownish hue.

  “Hey, Paulie,” Burt said, “what’s that?”

  “I don’t know,” Paulie answered, “but I’d swear it wasn’t there a second ago.”

  “It looks like an arrow,” Burt said.

  “Arrow?”

  They looked at each other for a moment.

  “Arrow!” they cried in unison.

  A split-second later, Burt dove over the bench and knocked Paulie to the ground.

  Thump. Twang!

  Paulie looked up and saw another arrow jutting out just below the first one.

  “Get behind the tree,” Burt said, and then pointed across the field. “I see him.”

  Paulie peeked over Burt’s shoulder and saw movement by the building. A man wearing a dark coat was setting a fresh arrow into his miniature crossbow. He looked familiar.

  “Isn’t that the guy that was making trouble at the way-station on the trolley trip?” Paulie asked.

  “What guy?”

  “The guy that tried to get on our bus back to Fez and the driver wouldn’t let him.”

  “I think you may be right.”

  “What the heck is he shooting at us for?” asked Paulie.

  “No idea, but we gotta get out of here.”

  “How?”

  Burt studied the area and pointed Paulie toward the bike.

  “I’ll draw his fire,” Burt said. “He only has one arrow so he can’t shoot us both. Keep yourself turned a bit so he can’t hit you in the heart.”

  “Actually, Burt,” Paulie said quickly, “the story about vampires only dying if you shoot them in the heart isn’t one hundred percent accurate.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah,” Paulie said. “I mean, if I get shot in the heart, I’ll die, sure. But even if I get popped in the head, I’m a goner.”

  “What about the stomach?” Burt asked.

  “Pretty safe everywhere but the heart and the head. It’ll hurt like hell anywhere I get hit, of course, but it won’t kill me.”

  “So no wooden stakes or anything?”

  “No more than you werewolves can only be killed with a silver bullet.”

  “That too?” Burt took on the look of a man who was just told that all of his childhood legends were orc crap.

  “Sorry, Burt,” Paulie said, peeking around the tree. “It’s also why we try to avoid turning into mosquitoes too often. A standard slap, I can manage. It stings, but I’m pretty resilient. However, I can’t survive a major squish or a mechanical zapper.”

  “Wow.”

  “For now we’ve got to get back to that bike.”

  Burt shook his head. “Huh? Oh, right. Okay, you head that way and tell Guk we’ve got to get out of here fast. I’ll cut over here and try to draw his fire.”

  “But what if you’re hit?” Paulie asked, finding himself very concerned.

  “While I’m running?” Burt replied. “He couldn’t even hit you while you were sitting still. Now, go!”

  Burt took off running toward the pond, moving in and out of the bush and tree lines. Paulie turned and ran the other way. He tried to mimic the moves that Burt had been making, but Paulie wasn’t exactly the most dexterous person around.

  Thwick!

  “Ow!” Paulie yelled, grabbing at his arm and hitting the ground. “I’ve been hit!” He forced himself back up and kept running for the bike.

  Guk opened the door as Paulie staggered in.

  “Have a good lunch?”

  “I’ve been shot!”

  “Where?”

  “My arm. An arrow!”

  Paulie looked at his arm, but saw no arrow. He reached up to feel for it but only felt a small tear near the top of his outer bicep. He pulled back his coat and showed it to Guk.

  “It cut,” Guk said. “Not bleeding though.”

  “Never mind,” Paulie said, pulling his coat back on. “We have to go. Now!”

  “Where your pal at?” Guk asked as he hopped into the driver’s seat. “If you guys was trouble, why ain’t you said so before?”

  “We didn’t know we were in trouble, Guk,” Paulie replied as Burt dove into the carriage.

  “I’m calling this in,” Guk said. “Just stay low.”

  “You okay, Paulie?” he asked, checking Paulie over with concerned eyes.

  Guk was going back and forth on his radio with the authorities in the little building. Eventually a large ogre popped his head out and Guk walked over to him.

  “Just a little cut,” Paulie answered Burt, finally. “I’ll be fine. How about you?”

  “I guess I’m okay. With all this adrenaline in my system, I wouldn’t know if I’d been hit or not. You got hit in the arm?”

  Paulie nodded as he rubbed his bicep.

  Guk was still in a heated discussion with the ogre officer. He was doing a lot of pointing toward his carriage.

  “You’re not bleeding, are you?”

  “I’m a vampire, Burt.”

  “Oh, right,” Burt said. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “I’m sorry about this, Paulie. If it weren’t for my stupid situation, you’d be home enjoying your life.”

  That was mostly true. He’d be at home, anyway. “Enjoying” was a bit of a strong word for Paulie’s daily life, but at least at home people weren’t trying to kill him.

  “That guy is just crazy is all,” Paulie said. “You saw the way he looked at me at the way-station, when he walked past our trolley.”

  “Yeah, like you’d done something bad to him. You sure you don’t know him?”

  “Never seen him before the way-station. At least, not that I know of.”

  Guk returned to the carriage and clunked down into the main chair.

  “Cop going to talk to that guy,” Guk said, pointing back. Paulie and Burt peeked over the back seat. “He’ll be spending a few months in jail for trying to hurt one of my customers.”

  “That’s a relief,” Burt said.

  “You said it, Burt. Thanks, Guk.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  ANOTHER GETAWAY

  Stelan took to the shade of the building and began assembling his hand-held crossbow.

  He had commissioned the bow to be made by a blacksmith in the Upperworld near the Kesper’s Range. It was quick to setup and tear down and it was small enough to conceal in his coat. The arrows were half-sized with razor-sharp tips that hooked back so they wouldn’t easily pull free. If you got hit with one of these arrows, you’d have to push it all the way through to get it out, unless you wanted to rip your flesh by pulling it out the same way it went in.

  He clicked back on the latch and took aim. The breeze was going to be the trickiest part of the shot, so he had to wait it out. Every time he went to tug on the trigger, it would pick up again.

  Slowing his breath, he clicked the trigger and watched the arrow take its course.

  The damn vampire bent down right at the last moment, though, and the arrow struck the tree above his head.

  He retrieved another arrow and carefully hooked it in.
While the bow offered compact convenience, it was a pain to load and prep. If he rushed the procedure, the arrow wouldn’t sit right.

  The shaft snapped into place and he checked its lineup. All was fine.

  Just as he pulled the trigger, the prince dove over the bench and knocked the vampire to the ground.

  Stelan’s second arrow sunk into the tree just below his first.

  They were on to him.

  He sighed.

  Killing the prince would have been easy, and Stelan would have gone that route had there not been the possibility of first collecting a reward from the king of Argan.

  After the cost of the bike, having the two payoffs was imperative.

  It was a simple plan: Get the reward from Argan, wait a week or two, finish the job for King Larkin, and collect the second payment.

  First, though, he had to get the vampire out of the way. Then he would convince the prince that the vampire was actually an assassin hired by the king of Yezan.

  He smiled at his own genius.

  But bagging a vampire wasn’t as easy as other prey. Stelan had to hit the fanged one in the head or in the heart. It was assassination 101 in the Underworld.

  No sooner had Stelan gotten the arrow set, the two men started to make a run for it.

  Stelan chuckled as they ran from behind the tree. The prince went one way and the vampire went the other.

  He focused on the vampire.

  Timing his shot, Stelan aimed at where the vampire’s head promised to be in a matter of moments. He let it fly, keeping his eye on the trajectory. The vampire must have stepped up onto a rock because his head jutted in the air a good foot from its promised path. The arrow grazed the vampire’s arm and he dropped to the ground.

  Stelan groaned and began to fasten the next arrow.

  By the time he had it set, the vampire was already in the carriage of his bike and the prince was running full bore to join him.

  Stelan wasn’t about to lose the ransom money by shooting the prince and he wasn’t going to confront them both, especially not when their ogre driver was with them.

  He sat down on a log and began removing the arrow from the crossbow.

  They were edging ever closer to Gakoonk, which meant direct access to Aopow Station, and that put them all within reach of both Argan and Yezan.

  Stelan had to close the chapter on this vampire, and quickly. It would simply not do to come up short in the face of King Larkin.

  A burly ogre came around the corner, looking miffed. He was wearing a yellow uniform, a green hat, and purple boots, and he had a triangular-shaped badge on his shirt pocket.

  Stelan was mostly concerned with the angry weapon that the ogre was pointing at him.

  “Drop it,” the officer said, motioning to the empty crossbow.

  “It’s not loaded.”

  “Now.”

  Stelan put the crossbow on the ground and put his hands in the air.

  “Why you shooting guests?”

  “I can explain,” Stelan said, reaching into his pocket.

  The officer pulled the hammer back on the weapon.

  “I’m just grabbing my wallet,” Stelan said as he slowly pulled it from his coat and grabbed his ID card, then he reached out toward the officer. “If you look here you will see that I’m an agent from Dakmenhem.”

  The ogre snatched the card away and looked at it for a few seconds.

  “Why you shooting guests?” he repeated.

  “I was sent to bring them back,” Stelan said as he saw the prince’s bike disappear into a slurry of trees where the road bent up ahead, while two sets of eyes peered back at him from the back of the carriage.

  “What for?”

  “That’s Dakmenhem business,” Stelan said tightly.

  “I hate asking same questions over and over again,” the ogre growled.

  Stelan sighed. “Fine. I’ll be happy to tell you everything, but when I do you’ll have to put it all in a report, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “That will be a lot of writing, and I assure you that it’s a long story.”

  “How long?”

  “Let’s just say that you won’t be making it home for dinner,” Stelan answered.

  “Wife’s making Tree Knuckle soup tonight,” the officer said.

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “It’s my favorite.”

  “Ah,” Stelan said with a cordial grin. “Shame you’ll have to miss it. Okay, so let me tell you all I know, then.”

  “Nah,” the officer said, handing back the ID. “Dakmenhem can keep its own business to itself. Just no more shooting guests, yeah?”

  “No promises,” Stelan said, tucking the ID back into his wallet.

  The officer grunted and walked back into the building.

  Stelan headed back to the bike to find Carl was waiting for him.

  “Were them the guys you were after?” Carl asked.

  “What makes you think I’m after anyone, Carl?”

  “Well,” Carl said, “back in Fez you say you want a bike to go real fast. Then you say you don’t want to rest too much at the stop when we get here. And now you just tried to shoot those guys and the cop came after you.”

  Stelan sighed and climbed into the back of the carriage.

  “Is this going to be a problem, Carl?”

  “Not unless you planning to shoot me too.”

  “I have no intention of doing that,” said Stelan, showing Carl his fake badge. “I’m an agent, Carl. Besides, you and I have already made a business arrangement.”

  The ogre had made a good point, though. Stelan could just shoot him after they arrived in Gakoonk. He could dump the body and then sell the bike. It would add to his bottom-line and he did own the title to the bike until it was signed over.

  “You’re an agent?” Carl asked excitedly. “It’s like I’m helping the law! Want me catch them? I can make a siren sound when we get close.” Carl then made a very convincing siren. It was incredibly loud. “See?” Carl added with a cross-eyed grin.

  “Impressive,” Stelan said with a raised eyebrow.

  He could’ve just had Carl take over the bike that his prey was in. With the arsenal of weapons that Stelan kept on his person it would be easy enough to blow their bike off the road. But then Stelan couldn’t collect the reward for returning the prince to Argan, and that was unacceptable.

  If he only killed the vampire and the bike’s driver, the prince would certainly not trust him, and he needed the prince to trust him if he was to have his plan turn out properly.

  Another option was to catch up to them and show his fake badge, explaining the situation, inditing the vampire as a kidnapper in the process, and then taking custody of the human. The problem there was that the driver would call it in since he didn’t want to lose his fare. The story wouldn’t check out with the authorities, especially once Bumache’s name came up, and that would destroy his credibility with the prince.

  “We need to do this right, Carl. I want you to stay close, but I don’t want them to see us…or hear us, so no siren. At this point, I’m sure they believe I’m on my way to jail, since they don’t know that I’m an agent. That’s what I want them to think. So keep heading toward Gakoonk, but don’t let them spot us.”

  “All right, I’ll stay back from them.”

  “Good, Carl,” Stelan said, motioning the ogre to start peddling. “Good.”

  Stelan cracked open his ePad as the bike pulled away from the station. He sent a message to one of his contacts in Gakoonk. He informed her to be on the lookout for a vampire and a human riding in a bike and to find out where they go once they get into the city. Stelan could only hope that they would stay at a hotel and not go straight to the portal.

  GAKOONK

  Gakoonk was known as the land of the trolls. It was full of tall buildings, small buildings, and medium ones too, all running side-by-side and spreading out as far as the eye could see. It was colorful, but classy. One of the special
s that Paulie had seen a few years ago claimed that the same architects that designed Dakmenhem also worked here. Instead of the neon signs that littered the city on the eastern seaboard, though, Gakoonk’s glass buildings shone in a variety of colors.

  “We’re about to go through customs,” Guk said. “You got something to hide?”

  “I, uh, don’t think so,” Paulie answered.

  “No,” agreed Burt.

  “Should we get out?” asked Paulie.

  “No, we’re in the bike lane,” Guk replied. “Okay, they gonna ask questions, so just answer ‘em and it goes fast, right?”

  Paulie and Burt nodded.

  Guk turned back around and took the bike’s flywheel offline. The white noise was replaced with a city on the move. Horns, bells, music, cheers, and the general wash of voices filled the air.

  “It’s beautiful,” Burt said.

  “I’ve always wanted to come here, Burt,” Paulie said.

  “Well, at least that’s something.”

  “Yeah.”

  The bike came to a halt just outside of a line of buildings. There were many rows waiting to go through the customs channels. Most of the lines were just people standing face to back. Paulie, Burt, and Guk were in a much shorter line that seemed specifically tailored for vehicles.

  Paulie engaged in people-watching as they shuffled alongside the bike. They ranged from small to tall to pretty to hideous. Of course those who were hideous likely considered themselves beautiful and judged those who Paulie had considered beautiful to be hideous.

  “What are you looking at?” said a dark halfling that sported bluish-black skin.

  “Um,” Paulie said.

  “Keep your eyes to yourself, mosquito-boy,” the halfling said and then stepped forward in line.

  “That was rude,” Burt said.

  Paulie grimaced and decided to keep his eyes to himself.

  He checked his cash reserves, being careful to count it behind the flap of his long coat while sitting as far back as possible in the carriage. He had plenty to get a moderate room, and that was his plan. The last thing Paulie wanted to deal with was a seedy hotel.