by Robert Bevan
Water continued to flow from the mouth of the pitcher. The expanding puddle crept toward Katherine’s feet. Of course, she was too busy nursing her burning hand to notice.
Tim waited a few seconds before alerting her. “Katherine?”
“What?” she snarled, baring her fangs at him.
“Look down.”
“Huh?” She looked down just in time to see the puddle nearly touching her toes. “Shit!” She jumped up in the air, transformed into a bat, and flew up to the branch Ravenus had been sitting on all day, where she once again took her half-elf/goth/beatnik form.
“Is that acid?” asked Julian, stepping cautiously up to the border of the expanding puddle.
“Nope,” said Tim, stepping into the water to demonstrate how little harm would come to him. “Just plain old water. My sister, who knows exactly what she’s doing, is learning a valuable lesson about how running water affects vampires. From the sound of it, this may not be her first time learning this lesson.”
“It’s not a big deal,” said Katherine. She held out her hand. “See? It’s already healed.”
“So what are you going to do in your hole when there’s a heavy rain, or when a dire bear decides to take a piss on you?”
“That was really the second danger scenario to pop into your head?”
“Hey guys?” said Cooper. “How much water does that fucking thing hold?” The puddle had spread out to reach him by this point, and water was still freely flowing out of the pitcher.
Tim picked up the pitcher, and the water stopped. When he tipped it sideways again, water poured out, but the weight didn’t decrease at all. “Is this a Decanter of Endless Water?” He looked up at Katherine. “Where did you get this?”
“I picked it up while I was getting my things at Millard’s place. I thought it might be useful.”
“Oh shit,” said Tim. He dropped the decanter on the ground and looked at Cooper and Julian. “I know where Mordred is.”
Chapter 4
Stacy didn’t know what the motivation was behind Tim’s outburst. The little self-loathing drunk was constantly trying to bring people down to his level, and it looked like he’d succeeded. Tempers had been high in the Whore’s Head Inn, but at least everyone had been trying to come up with a solution to their common problem. Now they all just seemed hopelessly apathetic.
She and Julian had done their best to keep the discussion going until Julian suddenly and inexplicably screamed “Ravenus” and ran out of the building. He was an odd one, but Stacy found it charming how much he cared for his silly talking bird.
There was nothing more adorable, however, than a gloomy gnome. Frank sat at the bar on a stool taller than himself, swinging his little legs and propping his head up with one fist, quietly nursing a beer. His red cap and rosy cheeks highlighted the whiteness of his bushy beard.
Stacy pulled up a stool next to Frank. “Wanna talk?”
Frank sighed without looking up from his beer. “Not really.”
“Wanna blow job?”
Frank’s eyes lit up like two little emeralds as he looked up at her.
She grinned at him. “Not gonna happen, but it’s nice to see that sparkle of hope in your eyes that you had when you were talking about finding Mordred.”
“Hmph,” said Frank. He sipped his beer. “Hope in one hand, shit in the other. See which one fills up first. It’s just like your boyfriend said, we don’t even know where to begin –”
“I’m sorry,” said Stacy. “My boyfriend?”
“Yeah. Tim.”
Stacy laughed. “Tim and I aren’t… Wait, are people saying that?”
“Gorgonzola told me that Tim had been sitting at their table before joining us here at the bar last night, and he told them to quit staring at you. You were his.”
Stacy narrowed her eyes. “Did he now?” She had a hunch it was going to come to this sooner or later. That was half the reason she’d accosted Julian as indiscreetly as she did the night before. She didn’t want to slut it up right there in the bar, but if someone had been walking around outside and happened to see them, and word started to spread… It might have given Tim the hint he needed before he publicly declared his undying love or whatever.
She went to the other side of the bar and helped herself to a beer. “That little prick’s got some nerve.”
“That he does.” Frank spoke as if she was talking about an admirable quality.
“Hey, Frank,” said Frank’s main adversary during the Mordred debate. Tony the Elf, Stacy seemed to remember people calling him. “I’m sorry things got so intense before. I shouldn’t have said some of the things I said. No hard feelings, huh?”
“Nah,” said Frank. “We both just want what’s best for everyone. Sit down. Have a drink.”
Was that it? Stacy still wanted to cut bitches from high school over less heated exchanges.
“You were right,” Frank continued. “There’s no point in fighting if we haven’t got the first clue as to where to start looking.”
“Stacy!” cried a shrill, inebriated voice from outside. Tim stepped down hard on the edge of a loose plank by the unfinished section of wall. The plank tilted upright and slammed into Tim’s face. “Ow! Fuck!” It should have been hilarious, but the gloomy crowd just watched in stunned silence as the board fell back into place and Tim stumbled into the room, his nose bleeding into his mouth. “Stacy, I need you!”
Oh. My. God.Everyperson holding a drink suddenly found something fascinating inside it. Those without drinks took some time to appreciate the grain patterns in the nearest pieces of lumber. They were embarrassed for him. They were more embarrassed for her.
“Tim, this is neither the time nor the place for –”
“I know where Mordred is.”
“What?”
“Was he in the toilet?” asked Tony the Elf. “Or did you find him at the bottom of your flask?”
Tim wiped his sleeve across his face, leaving behind a long red stripe. “I’ll tell you where he is, motherfucker. If he started out at Level 1 like the rest of us, and he doesn’t want to stay there for long, he’ll be heading for the biggest stockpile of weapons, armor, magical accessories, and gold in the world.”
“And where’s that?” Tony the Elf’s tone suggested he still wasn’t taking Tim seriously.
Stacy, however, was suddenly taking Tim very seriously. “The Horsemen’s villa.”
“Do you remember where it is?” asked Tim.
“Not exactly, but if we follow the river, I’ll recognize it when I see it.”
“Well, Tony the Elf,” said Frank. “You about ready to start fighting again?”
“Frank,” said Tim. “We’re going to need the Flying Carpet.”
“And the Bag of Holding,” said Julian, stepping in from outside. Both Tim and Frank looked at him questioningly. “It’s the best tool we’ve got for taking him alive and keeping him under our control.”
“It is, isn’t it?” said a female voice from above.
Stacy looked up. Tim’s sister, Katherine, was sitting on a partially completed section of the roof. She was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and a pair of blue jeans. Her icy blue eyes were staring straight at Stacy. When their eyes met, Katherine gave Stacy a casual smile, one that wouldn’t have been at all menacing if performed by a person with normal teeth.
“They’re in the cellar,” said Frank. “Take what you need.”
Tim and Julian started moving toward the cellar.
“But how about you leave those dice behind?” said Frank.
Tim and Julian stopped and looked at each other. “What?” said Julian.“Like, collateral?”
“You don’t trust us, Frank?”said Tim. “You really think we’d fuck off back home and ditch you here?”
Frank sipped his beer. “I trust you. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to have Mordred and the dice in such close proximity before we do have him under our control. You know, just in case things go south.”
/> Tim looked at Julian.
Julian paused, his right hand tucked under his serape. Eventually, he nodded. “It makes sense.” He pulled out a small black pouch and set it on the bar in front of Frank. “Keep these on you at all times.”
Frank nodded and put the pouch in his pants pocket.
Stacy was interested in seeing the cellar. She reminded herself not to expect all the wonders she’d seen at the Horsemen’s villa, but there could still be a few neat things. She allowed Julian to go first as they followed Tim to the cellar door.. Tim opened the door and started walking down the stairs.
“Why yes, Mr. McConaughey, I do like it rough,” said a gruff female voice from below.
Stacy, Tim, and Julian stopped halfway down the stairs and exchanged a glance. Tim shrugged. There was no time to waste. Stacy and Julian proceeded hesitantly, but Tim seemed to be in even more of a rush than he’d been in before.
Reaching the bottom of the staircase and turning right, Tim’s jaw dropped like he was looking at a shiny new bike under the Christmas tree. He waved excitedly for Stacy and Julian to follow.
Stacy glided swiftly and silently down the stairs, surprised at how nimble she was. When she reached Tim, she peeked around the corner to see what he was so giddy about. Denise, the cop who had drawn the game’s short straw and turned into a short, fat, bearded woman, was standing with her back to them, bare-ass naked from the waist down. She had one leg jacked up on a crate full of weapons, and seemed to be trying to shove a large black rod up her cooch.
“Give it to me like I’m Jodie Foster!”
That was Tim’s breaking point. He started laughing his ass off.
“Wha!Who!” said Denise, hastily removing the rod and turning around. The rod, as it turned out, was actually a giant wooden dildo. “You fuckin’perverts! Get the fuck outta here!”
Stacy suspected Denise was only trying to cover her girly bits while still holding on to her toy, but the position she was holding it in was disturbingly anatomically accurate. The effect was such that she looked like a short fat man holding up his massive black member.
Tim fell into a fetal position and laughed even harder, tears streaming down his red cheeks.
“Oh, Dennis,” said Julian. “Not again.”
Stacy looked at Julian. “Again?”
Tim’s fit of laughter escalated even further. He punched the dirt floor.
Stacy nudged Tim with her foot, careful to avoid any blood or urine. “Tim! Get a hold of yourself.” In retrospect, it was not the wisest selection of words, given the circumstances. Tim stopped laughing just long enough to open his eyes, see Denise, misinterpret Stacy’s meaning, and fly into another fit of giggling.
“Go on now!” cried Denise. “Y’all get the fuck out!”
“I’m so sorry,” said Stacy. “We’ll be out of your hair in no time. We’ve just got to get a couple of things. Julian, let’s hurry this up.”
“And listen,” said Julian. “I know you’d rather us all just pretend we didn’t see anything, but I feel I should warn you. Make sure you give that thing a good scrub down before you… um…use it. You don’t want to know where it’s been.”
Denise let the dildo drop to the floor as she sat down, buried her bearded face in her hands, and started sobbing. Stacy noticed that the other end of it was sharpened to a point. That seemed unnecessarily dangerous.
Stacy wanted to comfort her, or at least give her some privacy, but precious seconds were slipping away. While Julian grabbed the magic carpet and bag, she helped herself to a sword, as the one she’d arrived with had been quickly taken from her by the Horsemen. She chose a similar one, lightweight with a long, slender blade. It slid nicely into the leather sheath she had strapped to her back. Somehow, this made her feel more whole.
Having procured what they’d come for, Stacy and Julian stepped over Tim and toward the stairwell. Stacy had half a mind to leave Tim behind in his pee-soaked dickishness, but he had been the only one to come up with a viable theory as to where to find Mordred, however obvious it seemed in retrospect. That counted for something.
“Are you coming?”
Surprisingly, Tim stopped laughing. He looked at Denise, then at the big dildo. He hopped to his feet and scurried past Stacy and Julian and up the stairs.
“What was that about?” asked Stacy.
“Nothing!” Julian abruptly responded.
“What’s taking so long?” called Cooper from the top of the stairwell. “Are you guys getting your freak on down – Hey! Tim! Watch where you’re – Fuck! Ow! Shit! Motherfu—Ow!” He crashed down the stairs with all the grace of a sack full of bowling balls, landing on his back at the bottom of the stairs with his head in Tim’s pee puddle.
“Cooper!” said Julian. “Are you okay?”
“Never better.” He cracked his neck one way, then the other, and his gaze fell on the dildo lying on the floor next to a still-weeping Denise. He snorted out a laugh. “Brings back some memories, eh Julian?”
“Dude, shut up!”
“Fuck, my ass hurts just looking at that thing.”
Silence engulfed the cellar as Denise stopped crying, stopped breathing, and her heart probably stopped beating.
“What’s going on?” asked Cooper. “What’d I say?”
Stacy stared at the dildo, then at Denise.“Oh no.”
Denise stared back at her with red, glistening eyes. She gulped. “I need a moment alone.”
Stacy nodded. “Yeah.Sure thing.” She grabbed Cooper’s outstretched arm by the wrist and yanked him to his feet.
“Goddamn, girl,” said Cooper. “What’s your Strength score?”
“You just march your ass up those stairs.”
Julian looked like he’d rather be showering with Hitler than spending any more time in this cellar, but he was having an awkward time maneuvering the bulky, rolled-up carpet.
Stacy rolled her eyes and grinned at him. “Use the bag, dummy.”
“Oh,” said Julian. “Good idea.” He wrapped the mouth of the Bag of Holding over the top end of the carpet and pulled down. The bag easily managed the impossible task of swallowing up the entire thing. Julian smiled at her. “Very clever.”
Stacy shot him a wink and a kiss. From the look on his face, you’d think she’d stabbed him in the gut with the tail end of that dildo. She thought she might be able to ignite a torch on the tips of his ears.
Julian hurried up the stairs, and Stacy followed and hurriedly closed the door behind her.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” cried Denise from the bowels of the Whore’s Head Inn. If she thought she was being discreet by waiting for the cellar door to close, she was mistaken.
“What happened?” asked Frank.
“Is that Denise?” asked Randy, standing up at the table where he’d been mingling with the other patrons far more successfully than Stacy thought he was capable of.“What’s wrong with hi—er?”
“She’s just having a little trouble adjusting to all this,” said Stacy. “Maybe you should stay behind and be there for her once she composes herself.”
Randy nodded. Stacy could tell he didn’t need much convincing. She knew people like him. Sweet folks with big hearts who had, for whatever reason, been marginalized by society and stripped of their confidence. Sitting here, in this half-completed bar, shooting the breeze with a few guys over a beer, seemed like a luxury for him. Here he was an equal, and he was relishing every moment of it.
“You coming, Dave?” asked Julian.
Dave and Chaz were sitting at another table with three people unfamiliar to Stacy. Unlike Randy’s table, the five of them looked to be merely tolerating each other’s company for the sake of having somewhere to sit and drink.
Dave sighed and stood up. “I guess.” Chaz followed.
“We’re going after Mordred,” Stacy announced to the room. “I know I’m a newcomer here, but I think it’s safe to say that none of us know what to expect when we find him. If anyone would like to join us
, we’ve got a little more room on the carpet.”
Stuart, the bald man who had introduced Stacy to the Whore’s Head Inn when she’d first entered the city, stood up. “I’ll go!”
“No!” cried the woman next to him, grabbing his wrist. She was dressed in what looked like shiny, metallic underwear. “It’s too dangerous. Last time you left, you almost died.”
“Sit down, Stuart,” said Tony the Elf. “Stay with your wife. I’ll go, if for no other reason than to personally make sure these idiots don’t screw everything up.”
That seemed unnecessarily harsh to Stacy. She looked at Cooper picking his nose while Tim drank from his flask, not even bothering to try to hide the wet spot on his pants, and conceded that Tony the Elf might have a point.
Frank slapped Tony the Elf on the shoulder. “You’re a good man.”
Tony the Elf let out a loud, high-pitched whistle. “Dave!”
“What?” said Dave, who was standing right next to him.
Tony the Elf didn’t even look at him. His eyes were fixed on the rear exit of the inn. After a couple of seconds passed, a big shaggy sheepdog came bounding through. Tony the Elf crouched down, and the dog put its front paws on his shoulders and licked his face.
“Oh!” said Stacy. “Look at you!” She stroked the fur on the dog’s back, which it didn’t object to at all. “What’s your name?”
“It’s Dave,” Dave grumbled.
Once Dave the dog had greeted his master long enough, he turned his attention to Stacy, knocking her down on the floor and licking her face until he stopped suddenly. He backed away slowly with a low, rumbling growl.
Katherine had hopped down from the roof. She stood, looking down her nose at the growling sheepdog. “You’re bringing your dog with you?”
“He’s my Animal Companion,” said Tony the Elf, putting a calming arm around his dog. “Where I go, he goes.”