by Bill Allen
Melvin slipped up beside Kristin and sniffed her. “If anyone around here has beautiful hair—”
“Not now.”
“How do I look?” Lucky asked, throwing back his hood. “Honestly, is it bad?”
None of the others answered. Even Melvin had the sense to hold his tongue. Greg avoided Lucky’s eye by removing his pack and loosening the straps so Rake could climb out and stretch his legs. But when Rake caught his first sight of Lucky’s patchwork hair, he reared back, hissed and darted into the forest.
Lucky frowned. “I just don’t understand it. I’ve never seen so many monsters in one place. Sure, Mordred said things were bad here, but this is unbelievable.”
“Seems perfectly normal to me,” said Melvin, who wasn’t accustomed to having Lucky’s good fortune to guide him when he traveled the forests of Myrth.
“Me too,” said Priscilla. “Oh, except for all the insurance agents. They’re really scary.”
“I heard that,” said Bob. He and Tom had just returned, each with a full armload of wood.
Priscilla smiled nervously. “Oh, I, er . . . was just kidding.”
“By the way,” said Tom, “you folks still owe me for saving you from that flock of harpies earlier.”
“Oh, um . . . yeah, all right,” Greg muttered uncertainly.
Lucky snugged his hood tightly around his head.
“Just how far is it to New Haven?” Greg asked Tom.
“Not far. Shouldn’t take long at all if we continue the same run of good luck we’ve had today.”
“Good luck?” said Lucky. “I’ll be bald by this time tomorrow.”
Both Bob and Tom nodded, as if in agreement with his estimate.
“Not a problem,” said Tom. “I’m sure with the percentage Mr. Short’s getting from his referral, he won’t mind me waiting for your hair to grow out again.”
“We don’t have time to wait for his hair to grow back,” Greg said. “We need to find Nathan and get back to the kingdom.”
Neither Tom nor Bob offered an alternative. Both clung to their briefcases and tried to look sympathetic, and neither noticed the moisture in Priscilla’s eyes, or the way Kristin threw an arm about her and stroked her hood consolingly.
Insurance Fraud
The next morning proved to be as perilous as the day before. By the time the group stopped to eat, Lucky was over two-thirds bald.
What little food Greg had packed was now gone, so Bob and Tom headed out to gather some roots for lunch.
“It’s not really that bad,” Priscilla said when Lucky pulled back his hood to get their opinion.
“Yeah, it’s hardly noticeable at all,” said Kristin.
“What are you talking about?” said Melvin. “He looks like a freak.”
Both girls gasped, but Lucky looked at Melvin approvingly. “Thanks, Melvin. I knew I could count on you to tell me straight.” He stooped forward. “How long do you think we have left?”
Melvin studied Lucky’s head carefully. “An hour or two at the most. What do you think, Greg?”
Greg sighed. “I think we need to come up with a plan, quick.”
Priscilla spoke softly, her eyes lowered to the ground. “Well, we always have my hair to fall back on. That should last us the rest of the trip, wouldn’t you think?”
Lucky threw an arm around her shoulder and gave her a consoling hug.
“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” said Greg.
Kristin pushed Lucky out of the way and gave Priscilla a hug of her own. “Of course it’s not.”
“You saw how those two reacted when they saw Lucky’s hair,” Greg explained. “Imagine what they’d do if they saw Priscilla’s. It may not have occurred to you, but we’re in the middle of nowhere. I think we’re in as much danger from our ‘protection’ as from any monster.”
“Greg’s right,” said Lucky.
Melvin made a rude noise. “You just don’t want to lose any more hair.”
“No,” said Kristin, “Greg is right. Except they’re certainly not going to hurt Lucky. After all, you don’t kill the goose that lays the golden eggs.”
“What goose is that?” said Melvin.
“It’s just an expression where we come from,” said Greg. “She means as long as they keep Lucky alive, he’ll keep growing more red hair for them to take. But that means they’re never going to let him go. And why haven’t they gotten rid of the rest of us?”
“Maybe they figure the more of us around, the more people they’ll get to save,” said Priscilla. “Maybe they’re waiting to see what else they can get from us. I’m sure they’d be quite interested to know I was a princess.”
“Right,” said Lucky. “And about Greg being the Mighty Greghart, or that everyone back home is counting on us to return to save the kingdom.”
“Absolutely,” said Priscilla.
Greg noticed she and Lucky seemed awfully agreeable now that they shared a common bond. Maybe losing a bit of hair was the best thing that could have happened to the two of them.
An hour and a half later, Greg snipped off the last lock of Lucky’s hair a full five hours before the sun was due to set. He handed it to Tom, who had just hyperspaced them into a small clearing after a group of boulders came to life for no reason and bounded toward them, shaking the ground with every weighty bounce.
“Looks like that’s the last one,” Tom observed with a neutral expression.
“What do we do now?” Kristin asked worriedly. Princess Priscilla glanced up at him, cautiously awaiting his reply with more at stake than any other.
“Don’t worry. You’re policy is paid in full until your next accident. Even if something else bad does happen, you’ll be covered until the end of the grace period, as long as you make up the premium then.”
“How long is that?” asked Greg.
“Till sunset.”
“But how are we supposed to come up with more hair by then?” Kristin asked.
Tom’s smile returned. “You don’t have to. Remember, I take all standard forms of payment.” His gaze came to rest somewhere in the vicinity of her fingers. She quickly moved her hands behind her back. “Of course, you might not need to worry. Maybe we won’t see any more trouble today.”
“Yeah, right,” said Melvin under his breath.
But miraculously, Tom was right. They hiked the rest of the afternoon and evening without another incident, and all five children were counting their blessings when the sun finally set, and Tom and Bob once again left to collect firewood.
Greg dropped to the ground with a groan. “I can’t believe we made it through the day.”
Lucky dropped beside him. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t count on our luck lasting forever.”
The others froze in mid-drop and stared at Lucky, horrified. To hear him imply their luck couldn’t last was a sure sign all hope was lost.
“Now, don’t panic,” said Priscilla, allowing herself to continue to the ground. Kristin and Melvin followed her lead and sat. “I still have a full head of hair, and we don’t know for sure these guys won’t keep honoring their agreement with us if we offer it to them. Only this time we put on a limit. They’ll get all my hair if need be, but nothing more. No matter what we encounter from here on out, they’ll take us all the way to Dolzowt Deth, and they don’t get a single strand until we do.”
Lucky took her hand. “Even so, I’d hate to see you end up looking like me.”
“That’s for sure,” Melvin said, snickering.
“Shut up, Melvin,” Lucky warned.
“Well, I’m not crazy about the idea either,” said Priscilla, choking up.
“You okay?” Greg asked. “I know it’s your hair and all, but . . . well, it’ll grow back.”
“Yeah,” Lucky said, trying his best to sound as if he agreed, though it was clear he didn’t. “It’s really not so bad.”
“Men,” Priscilla huffed, and before Greg or Lucky could say another word, she jumped to her feet and ran, sobbing
, into the woods.
“What’s her problem?” Melvin asked.
“She has such beautiful hair,” said Kristin. “You couldn’t possibly understand. You’re a man. Sort of.”
Greg frowned. “She shouldn’t be wandering around alone,” he said, attempting to stand with the ease of a boneless corpse. “I better go find her.”
Kristin stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. “I’ll go.”
“Oh, now I feel better.”
“We’ll be fine,” Kristin assured him. She rose and wandered off in the direction Priscilla had gone. The boys remained quiet for a time, until Melvin finally spoke.
“Priscilla’s sure gonna look funny bald.”
“Shut up, Melvin,” both Greg and Lucky told him.
When the two girls came running back, they looked about to explode with excitement, but then a sudden rustling caught their attention, and when they saw Bob and Tom emerge from the woods carrying firewood, they quickly shut up.
“What’s with you two?” Greg asked.
“Yeah,” said Lucky, “you look like you just found Nathan strolling in the woods or something. Hey, you didn’t, did you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Priscilla said a bit louder than necessary. She caught Greg’s eye and motioned with her head for him to follow her to one side, away from the others. Greg picked up the hint and did as she asked, though it probably would have looked less conspicuous if Lucky, Melvin and Kristin hadn’t tagged along. Fortunately the two insurance agents were too busy stacking logs to notice.
“Why all the secrecy?” Greg asked, once they were out of earshot.
“Ssh. You won’t believe what we just heard.”
“Yeah,” said Kristin, “you’re not going to believe it.”
“You want to try us?” asked Lucky.
“We overheard Bob and Tom talking in the woods,” Priscilla explained.
“Arguing, to be more exact,” said Kristin.
“About what?” all three boys asked at once.
“You’re not going to believe it.”
“Would you just tell us what they said?” Greg demanded a little too loudly. Everyone looked quickly back to the fire, but Tom and Bob were still busy, arguing now over whether or not a person could be seriously injured stacking logs.
Priscilla poked Greg to recapture his attention. “All this terrible stuff that’s been happening to us . . . it hasn’t been by accident.”
“Yes,” said Kristin. “Tom’s been using spells to cause it all on purpose.”
“He’s been what?” Lucky shouted.
This time Tom and Bob did look up. “You call me?” Bob asked.
“No, no,” said Kristin, “we were just . . . goofing around.”
“Well, you folks probably shouldn’t stray too far. No telling what kind of danger’s lurking about.”
Greg felt his anger rising. “Yeah, no telling.”
The cords in Lucky’s neck fought to escape from beneath his skin. “You mean I cut off all my hair for nothing?” Suddenly he was storming toward the two agents, clenching his walking stick.
“Wait,” Greg called after him.
But Lucky didn’t stop. He walked straight up to Tom and threw back his hood. “Do you want to explain this?” he said, pointing at his own prickly scalp.
Tom stared curiously. He looked to Bob for an explanation, but Bob avoided his eye.
“Don’t bother denying it,” said Lucky. “We’re wise to your tricks.”
“I’m not following,” Tom said.
“You’ve been summoning all these monsters we’ve been seeing just to get your stinking hands on my hair.”
“That’s preposterous. Why, that would be a terrible violation of the sacred agent-client trust.” He looked again to Bob for support, but Bob’s gaze was fixed on Lucky.
“I didn’t know, I swear. Of all the hair-brained—er, sorry,” he told Lucky. “Of all the stupid schemes . . .”
“Then it’s true?” Greg asked.
“It’s not what you think,” said Tom. “Well, I guess it is . . . but you don’t understand. I didn’t do it for his hair.”
“Then why?” asked Priscilla.
“Yeah,” argued Lucky, “why else?”
Tom stood with his shoulders slumped and his head held low, looking as if his briefcase held the weight of the world. “It’s rather embarrassing to say.”
“More embarrassing than what we think now?” said Greg.
Tom’s head popped up. “You have a point.”
“Well?” said Lucky.
“Now before you go judging me, I work hard at my job, I really do.”
Lucky moved his stick into sensen position. Even though it was not likely Tom recognized the exact significance of the stance, he caught the general drift.
“Wait. People always seem so grateful when I pay out a claim,” he quickly explained. “I truly believe they respect the way I selflessly help them through what would otherwise be a disastrous situation.”
“Are you saying you did it because you wanted to feel important?” asked Priscilla incredulously.
“Of course not. Well, not just that. It also makes them feel good about buying a policy. People don’t like to feel taken advantage of. They need an occasional disaster to feel good about paying for my services.”
“I’m gonna kill him,” Lucky informed them all.
“But don’t you see?” Tom pleaded. “It’s a win-win situation. This way everybody goes home happy.”
“That’s it,” said Lucky, hoisting his stick. He launched it through a wide arc that looked as though it was intended to cleanly remove Tom’s head from his shoulders.
Greg had to admit it might have done just that, had Tom not disappeared in a flash the instant the stick contacted his neck.
“Where’d he go?” Melvin asked.
“Apparently he was self-insured,” Bob said. “He could be anywhere.”
“Oh no,” cried Priscilla. “Now how are we going to find Dolzowt Deth?”
“Don’t panic,” said Bob. “Tom told us he lives off the coast of New Haven. I’ve never heard of it myself, but he claims that it’s just five miles north of Old Haven. Of course, Shorty could have just come right out and told us that back at the Dirty Flagon, but apparently he and his agent were in cahoots.”
“No,” said Melvin, “they were right there in the Dirty Flagon.”
“You know where Old Haven is?” Greg asked Bob.
“Oh, sure. Everyone knows Old Haven. It’s just the other side of Dragon Horns Pass.”
“But will you take us there?” Greg swallowed hard. “I’m afraid we can’t pay.”
Bob looked uncomfortable at the thought of not being paid for his services. Still, he surprised Greg by speaking in an uncharacteristically genuine tone. “I feel bad for you folks, I really do. Tell you what. I’ll take you to New Haven free of charge and offer you protection the entire way. After all, you’ve paid more than enough to cover that distance already, and it shouldn’t be nearly as dangerous now that Tom’s not around to conjure up monsters every few minutes.”
“That would be great,” said Greg, and even Lucky seemed happier knowing his sacrifice had not been given in vain.
Bob straightened his tie and smiled widely. “Glad to help. Have I mentioned you seem like nice folks?”
The image of that smile implanted itself in Greg’s mind as a dagger soared over Greg’s shoulder, straight toward Bob’s forehead.
And then the image lingered there, long after Bob disappeared with a flash.
Lapse in Protection
“Organ hunters!” cried Melvin, and four walking sticks whirled up in a flash.
Kristin screamed hysterically, but then must have realized her time could be better spent ducking in between the others, where they could form a circle of protection around her with their weapons.
Another attacker released his blade.
“Watch out,” Lucky warned Kristin
, even though the knife was soaring straight toward his own head. In a move befitting his name, he managed to slap it out of mid-air and into the chest of a one-armed man who possessed little more than half an ear if you totaled up the bits on both sides.
Nearby, a one-legged man hopped left and right repeatedly, dodging Greg’s thrusts. Amazing, Greg thought, but then the man’s blade snagged Greg’s tunic, and Greg cried out. He spun through a move he hadn’t tried since he last traveled with Nathan, and smiled when the man’s dagger was knocked away.
Defenseless, the one-legged attacker still managed to hop about, ducking Greg’s thrusts, until he accidentally jumped into Greg’s path and was launched head over heels—well, over heel anyway—into another of his gang, stealing that man’s attention just long enough for Priscilla to connect with her stick.
“Gotcha.”
Behind her, Melvin had backed his opponent up to the roaring bonfire. He should have had no trouble finishing off the contest but was too busy watching Kristin out of the corner of his eye—nothing new for Melvin, only Greg knew he was watching because she’d entered into a fight of her own.
“Careful,” Greg warned.
The stick Kristin had picked up was far too short to be useful, and she had no clue how to wield it, but she was holding her own, mostly because the man she faced had no eyes or ears. He seemed to sense her coming just the same, and managed to dodge all but one of her swings. One was all Kristin needed.
She’d never needed to fight before, and certainly not under the unspoken agreement that a loss would be paid for with the donation of her organs. Adrenaline racing, she sent the man reeling backward as effectively as if she’d hit him with a medium-sized tree.
Melvin cheered and turned back to easily dispatch his own opponent.
“Retreat,” Greg yelled, and all five children darted into the darkness, sprinting blindly between the trees.
Greg prayed no one would trip, or run over a cliff, or worse. The way looked nothing but black, but after a few seconds, a hint of moonlight helped him avoid the trees. He fixed his gaze ahead, searched for any sign of motion. Even so, he nearly ran down Kristin before he spotted her.