Barf of the Bedazzler

by Aaron Reynolds

  Moxie lets out a roar and charges them with her silver hammer. A burly pirate cowers at her ferocity and jumps overboard. But a huge troll moves in to replace him. Moxie locks hammer and sword with him.

  I zap a Magic Missile at the troll attacking Moxie. He lets out a howl and flies backward into the surf. I cast another Cozy Camp, setting a nearby fuzznik’s pants on fire. She bends down to slap the flames and Bucket hip-checks her overboard.

  Pirates swarm the remaining planks. No matter how many we knock into the sea, more just keep coming. In seconds, the merchant ship will be overrun.

  But then, finally, the sails fill with wind and the merchant vessel pulls away. The gap widens between the ships, sending the planks—and all the pirates on them—into the churning ocean below.

  From the Death Knell, First Mate Tidepool roars with rage. “Rig the mainsail, lads, and make chase! AND READY THE CANNONS!”

  We’ve escaped, but not for long. The Death Knell is a faster ship. It won’t take long for them to catch up. And this time they won’t bother to board us. They’ll just blast us out of the water.

  Suddenly a figure leaps from the crow’s nest of the Death Knell. It soars like a gull and catches one of the ropes of the merchant ship.

  I’m about to blast it out of the air with another Magic Missile when I recognize the nimble pirate.

  Pan’s speaking their language, and they follow her orders without question.

  The five of us gather and watch the pirate ship surging through the surf after us. I spot the bedazzler by the ship’s wheel. His gemstones glitter menacingly. His huge mouth is locked in a grimace of anger. His one eye glares.

  Diremaw the Dread has revenge in his heart. And it is aimed like a cannon. Right at us.

  “They’ll be on us in no time,” I say. Once more, I see my doom approaching. And once more, I’m glad I’m standing with my friends.

  “No, they won’t,” says Pan. “They’ll never catch us.”

  “Why not?” asks Bucket. “Pirate ship is faster.”

  “Because it’s just about six o’clock,” she says, pushing back her messy hair.

  I’m so confused. “What happens at six o’clock?”

  Pan smirks. “Just watch.”

  The Death Knell is so close, I can hear First Mate Tidepool roaring at the crew to open fire.

  And that’s when it happens.

  There is a creaking of breaking timbers. A splitting of wooden planks. The entire pirate ship shudders. The main deck explodes as something huge and leafy bursts from within. The trunk of a gigantic tree.

  The Death Knell is sinking. The bedazzler looks at his doomed ship. His crew is jumping overboard in panic. First Mate Tidepool runs to and fro, roaring, “Abandon ship! Abandon ship!”

  The bedazzler turn his eye on us. And he shouts, “Enjoy your victory! And know that I will never rest until I have my revenge … on the Skullduggery Crew!!!”

  With a ship-splintering creak, the tree topples the Death Knell, dragging it into the fathomless depths below.

  We stand there in awe. Silent. Watching the wreckage disappear into the horizon.

  * * *

  SUPERHEROIC ACHIEVEMENT!

  Thwart the Attack of Diremaw the Dread!

  (2,000 Experience Points Awarded)

  * * *

  Moxie gulps. “I wouldn’t want to be the Skullduggery Crew about now.”

  Pan smirks and tugs off her mask. It’s the first time I’ve seen her without it in days. “It’s a good thing we’re not the Skullduggery Crew,” she says. She drops her mask overboard. We all pull off our masks and drop them over the side. They float slowly away on the foamy sea.

  For the first time since I’ve known her, Pan’s hair isn’t in a tidy topknot. “What did you do?” I ask her. “To the ship?”

  She holds up her jade hair clip and pops open the hidden compartment. It’s empty.

  “A Seed of the Grove,” she says, doing her best pixie voice. “Place it within fresh dirt. Water it! And stand back! A mighty titanfrond tree shall spread its roots and grow there and then, bringing the peace of the Sparkly Grove to wherever you are!”

  Moxie lets out a howl of laughter. “But where did you find dirt on a pirate ship?”

  I nod knowingly. “Ferny.”

  “Exactly,” she says.

  “And Cookie always is watering Ferny at exactly six o’clock!” says TickTock with a giggle. “No matter what.”

  “Exactly,” she says.

  I look back at the sun setting on the horizon. And I sigh with contentment.

  “Gosh, I hate that plant.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  The merchants love us.

  They shower us with cheers and gold as we enter Wetwater harbor.

  Bucket takes a deep, cleansing breath, staring up at the towering twin statues that flank the docks. “Bucket loves this city,” he says. “It the one place where Bucket not feel like a monster.”

  “So?” asks Moxie. “Where to?”

  “To the Fried Phoenix,” says TickTock wearily. “TickTock is needing a nap.”

  He’s not the only one.

  The following week is spent recovering from our adventure on the high seas.

  Pan’s arm is still weak from the lich’s touch but getting stronger each day. And she agrees that we should return to Kevin with his barf. After all, we said we would. After that? Well, we’ll see.

  Every evening Moxie goes out for a walk by herself. Part of me thinks she’s looking for the Skullduggery Crew. And part of me thinks she just needs some alone time. To say goodbye once and for all. To Master Redmane’s hammer. And to Master Redmane himself.

  Bucket draws lots and lots of pictures.

  And me? Well, first I’m super happy to be reunited with my fuzzy bee! But it doesn’t last long. The day after we get back, I catch Pan secretively whispering to Bizzy. Bizzy flies away and disappears for several days.

  I also study my spellbook. The beginner spells in the front part of the book. If that makes me a baby mage, then I have just one thing to say: Goo-goo-ga-ga.

  On the morning of our fifth day in Wetwater, Bizzy returns.

  “It’s time to go,” Pan announces.

  “Go where?” I ask.

  “Back to Kevin’s,” she says.

  “Yes, we is having bedazzler barf to deliver,” TickTock agrees.

  “But how are we getting back to Kevin?” Moxie asks.

  Pan just smirks mysteriously. “You’ll see.”

  We say goodbye to Magda. And we head to the front gates of Wetwater.

  “Bucket want to make one stop first,” says the ogre.

  We follow the ogre through the congested streets. We’re not overwhelmed by the crowds anymore. We’re the same group that entered Wetwater that first day. But totally different too. We’ve been to sea. We’ve faced a lich. I tore apart a shipwreck golem with my bare tentacles. We’ve faced a bedazzler and have the barf to prove it.

  As I look at the crowds of strange creatures all around us, I feel something shift inside me.

  Bucket stops under the awning of a tattoo shop. A tattooed guy with an orange goatee comes out and greets us. It’s the same guy who chased us off his porch on day one.

  “Hey there, adventurers,” he says. “Name’s Clive Quickpen. You guys looking to get inked?”

  “No,” says Bucket. “Here for this.” And he points to a sign in the window.

  Clive inspects the little ogre skeptically. “You an artist?”

  “Bucket like to draw,” Bucket says nervously. He pulls his wrinkled sketch pad from a pocket in his loincloth and offers it to the orange-bearded man.

  For several long minutes, Clive looks silently through the pad. His eyes linger on the drawings, carefully considering each page. He finally looks up at the ogre.

  “You’re very talented,” he says. “And that’s just what I’m looking for.” He smiles a gentle smile. “The job is yours if you want it.”

  Bu
cket stands there in awe. “Bucket get paid to draw pictures?”

  Clive nods. “Yep.”

  Bucket turns to Pan, then to me, then to TickTock, and finally to Moxie. “Bucket will stay in Wetwater.”

  Moxie smiles and wipes a tear from her eye. “We’d love to have you come with us. But—”

  Bucket stops her. “Bucket knows. Bucket would not be welcome most places. But Wetwater is different. Wetwater is good place for Bucket.”

  Clive places a tattoo-covered arm on the ogre’s shoulder. “The job comes with a room over the shop,” he says. “You’d have a place to live. And a place for friends to stay when they come to visit.”

  “Friends,” whispers the ogre. Bucket turns to Moxie and grips her in a bear hug. They hold it for a long moment. When the ogre pulls away, he has tears in his eyes.

  The ogre reaches out his hand to Clive. Clive shakes it. “Deal!”

  This adventure has changed Bucket. Changed me. Changed us all.

  Bucket pauses. “Only one thing.”

  “What’s that?” asks Clive.

  “Bucket not want to be called Bucket anymore,” he says.

  “What do you want me to call you?” asks the tattooed man.

  He thinks for a minute. Then he smiles and looks at us. “Art,” he says. “Art is Bucket’s name. Art is Bucket’s job.”

  Clive laughs. “Art it is.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  We are outside the gates of Wetwater.

  “So?” Moxie turns to Pan curiously. “How are we getting back to Kevin?”

  “Are we doing walking?” asks TickTock nervously. “Because TickTock does not want to walk through muck all the way back.”

  “A little muck isn’t so bad, is it?” Pan says. She points to the soggy, sludgy wetlands that sprawl before us.

  Waving at us from the muck is Jethro. And Boondoggle. And Peat Blossom.

  “I sent Bizzy with a note,” Pan says, shrugging innocently. “Seeing if we could hitch a ride with our friends.”

  I turn to Moxie, and we both bust up laughing.

  “Howdy, elf,” says Pan, holding out her hand to Peat Blossom.

  Peat Blossom looks Pan up and down cautiously. She swats her hand aside. “Get that hand out of my face, princess.”

  A huge smile splits Peat Blossom’s face. She pulls Pan into a hug. “We don’t shake hands. We’re huggers in these here parts!”

  * * *

  In no time flat, we are saying our goodbyes to the muck elves and knocking at the door of Kevin’s tower.

  “Dweebs!” cries Kevin in surprise when he opens the door.

  “Why do you look so surprised to see us?” Moxie asks as he slaps her on the back.

  “I’m not!” he says innocently, leading us inside. “Okay, I am. I totally am. I’m gonna be honest, this was a hard one. I didn’t think I would be seeing you again. It made me so sad!”

  “Aw,” says Moxie.

  “I know!” says Kevin. “My breakfast has been a nightmare without TickTock!”

  Ah. He didn’t miss us or TickTock. He missed runny yolks.

  “Hold Kevin’s horses,” the phibling says. “Hero business first.”

  Thoughts of eggs vanish. Kevin turns to us, eyes wide. “No! You got it? You didn’t get it. Did you get it?”

  Moxie opens her pack and pulls out a covered golden urn. “One container of bedazzler barf,” she says grandly. “As promised.”

  Kevin stands before us, speechless. It’s a first. I revel in the silence of his mouth not flapping. He takes the urn gently. “How?” he finally sputters. “How did you do it?”

  The tale of retrieving the bedazzler barf is long and exciting. Kevin listens appreciatively to our story. He oohs when we tell him about Diremaw being a bedazzler. He aahs when we get to the part about fighting the lich and the shipwreck golem. He gasps when we describe the battle with the pirates and the sinking of the Death Knell.

  Finally silence settles over him. He looks at us with wide eyes. And makes the symbol for his brain exploding. “I’m super impressed. You three are turning out to be real hero material.”

  “Four,” Pan says, putting her arm around TickTock.

  “That’s right,” I chime in. “We never would have gotten out of there without his heroism. He’s one of us now.”

  Kevin looks at the beaming phibling skeptically. But he nods. “Yeah, okay. Four.”

  Pan grips the phibling’s shoulder. “Maybe the time has come for you to leave this tower, TickTock.”

  “Yeah,” I say excitedly. “You can come with us!”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” objects Kevin. “That’s my phibling you’re trying to steal.”

  Moxie stands tall against the mage. “TickTock is nobody’s phibling. But he is our friend.” She turns to the phibling. “It’s his decision to make.”

  TickTock’s eyes well up with tears. He chokes back a sob as he looks at each of us. “TickTock loves being with friends. But TickTock thinks he needs a break from adventures for a little while. In Kevin’s tower TickTock makes eggs and dusts statues. But TickTock also has his own workshop and freedom to invent and tinker!”

  He looks around the room at the tools and workbenches, gadgets and gizmos.

  “TickTock is not ready to leave his workshop behind,” he says with a smile. “Not yet.”

  Kevin lets out a huge sigh of relief. “That’s more like it! Now, if you weirdos are done trying to lure my best buddy away, I think I owe you some rewards.”

  He runs over to a large chest and yanks open the lid. “So!” he says. “What’s it going to be?”

  “TickTock first,” says Pan.

  TickTock beams proudly. Kevin doesn’t look sure that he likes this. But he nods anyway.

  “Fine,” says Kevin, rummaging through the chest. “I was saving this for your birthday, but now is as good a time as any.

  TickTock grabs the box with excitement. “It is being a Build-A-Bot!”

  I have no idea what this thing is, but the phibling seems thrilled.

  “Those are rare!” says Kevin proudly. “Picked that up in the black markets of Dwarvenforge. Cost me a pretty penny. You’re welcome.”

  But his words are wasted. The phibling is already combing through the box, examining the various gears and gizmos contained within.

  Kevin looks Moxie over and begins rummaging through the chest again. “I see you got rid of that old hammer and picked up a shiny new one. How about a magic axe to go with it?”

  “No thanks,” says Moxie, hefting her silver meat tenderizer. “I’ve already got a great weapon.”

  “We’ll take cash,” says Pan firmly.

  “Ooh, yeah,” Moxie agrees. “Gold is good!”

  “Sheesh! Okay, then!” says Kevin. He pulls a clinking sack out of a drawer and hands it to the elf. “You sound like a monk on a mission.”

  Pan takes the sack and hefts it, feeling the weight. “We’re saving for something.”

  “You are?” asks Kevin.

  “We are?” asks Moxie.

  “We are?” I ask.

  Pan stares at Kevin. She tucks a couple stray hair-wispies behind her ear. And leaves a few out. “We’re saving for a ship.”

  I grin at my elf friend. “A ship, huh?”

  “Yeah,” she says sheepishly. “A ship. It could be really fun.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” I tell her. “After all, we’ve done a lot of unexpected things. Befriended ogres. Sunk bedazzlers. Smashed a lich to smithereens.”

  “And don’t forget the most unexpected thing of all,” Moxie points out. “Pan Silversnow just used the word ‘fun’!”

  Pan tries to put on a serious face. But a snort of laughter escapes from her.

  “That’s true,” I say, throwing my arm around Pan’s shoulders. “Anything could happen next, matey. Anything at all.”

  Don’t hold your breath for the next Fart Quest!

  READ ON FOR A SNEAK PEEK OF BOOK 3…

  FART QUE
ST: THE DRAGON’S DOOKIE

  Dropping September 2021

  CHAPTER ONE

  My head is stuck in a toilet.

  Why is my head in a toilet? Two words: water weirdo.

  What’s a water weirdo? Five words: You don’t want to know.

  I had never heard of a water weirdo before today. But apparently, the outhouse at the Woozy Wyvern Inn has one. It keeps biting the butts of everyone who uses the facilities. And we’ve been hired to remove it.

  “Are you sure it’s still in there?” I ask, pulling my head out of the toilet.

  Griff grabs tufts of his hair and tugs in frustration. Griff. Innkeeper of the Woozy Wyvern Inn. And currently, our client.

  “Yes, it’s in there!” he roars. “Come on, you three! I got customers! I got a reputation to uphold! I gotta do a number two!”

  Let’s get clear. I’m no stranger to unclogging toilets. When I was an apprentice, I had to do it once a week. Let’s just say my master, Elmore the Impressive, had some impressive bowel movements.

  But honestly? I thought those days were behind me. I mean, I’m a Level 3 mage, right? I’m an up-and-coming adventurer, right? I’m quickly becoming a heroic figure of myth and legend.

  Right?

  Nope. I’m a walking, talking potty plunger.

  We’ve tried several things to get this weirdo out of the bathroom. Moxie did her warrior thing.

  Apparently, you can’t hammer-bash a creature made out of water.

  Pan used her monk mojo to water-yank it out.

  Didn’t work. The water weirdo dived right back into the dumper.

  Bizzy, my giant bee, rubs affectionately against my shoulder. I guess it’s my turn to dazzle it with magic.

  “Pew-pew-patchoo!” I shoot a Magic Missile straight down at it. But nada. It just fizzles into the mucky, yucky depths.

  Hmm.

  I could cast Feather Friend on it. But that only works on birds. Not urine serpents.