Monster World

by Michael James Ploof

  “What P-word?”

  “Princess.”

  “Fine, you do the talking. I don’t want to talk to those brutes anyway. They’ll probably fall all over themselves when they see me, let alone hear my voice.”

  “You really are super into yourself, aren’t you?”

  She shrugged and batted her eyes. “Wouldn’t you be?”

  I turned to face the ship. They had lowered their sails and were dropping anchor. Whoever was behind the wheel was a real pro, because they stopped right beside us and caused minimal waves. Our boat lightly bobbed in the ripples, and a rope ladder was tossed over the side.

  “Ho, there!” someone yelled from the deck.

  “Ho is right!” I called back affably. “I thought Fate was just a slut, but being that I’ve been at sea without water for three days, I think you might be right!”

  The man who had yelled down shared a look with his fellow sailors, then one of them finally laughed. The others followed suit.

  “Boy, are we glad to see a good ole Turrekian ship—”

  “It’s Turrakian!” she whispered.

  “Turr-aw-kian,” I said and shook my head at the sailors. “Damn this parched tongue of mine.”

  “Do you need help coming aboard?” the man asked.

  “I require that a swing chair be lowered, and I will need a basket for my luggage,” the princess said regally.

  “Hah! She’s kidding. Must be the sun exposure,” I said with a laugh and put an arm around her. I leaned in and whispered. “What the hell was that? You’re trying not to act like a princess, remember?”

  “We can lower a basket if the lady needs one,” said the sailor.

  There were at least a dozen men looking over the rail, and a few heads even popped out of the gun ports. I wondered how long they had been at sea, and if they would slice my throat and throw me to the fishes when they got a good look at the princess. She was a looker, and to these salty dogs, she might as well be puppy chow, or better yet, a soft little squeaky thing to play with and kill. There was also the problem of her motormouth.

  I needed to make them think she was drunk, or else her royal ways were going to give her away. A princess disappearing is pretty big news, and I assumed it was a pretty hot topic for the old hens throughout the land. These sailors might even know what she looked like.

  “This isn’t going to work,” I said out of the corner of my mouth. I glanced at Doughboy and got an idea.

  “What do you mean it won’t work?” she asked, then added, “It has to work!”

  “I’ve got an idea, and it just might save us. This boat is in shark-infested waters. You said it yourself. They are your enemies. They’re the sharks, and what I am about to tell you to do is the lifeline. If you don’t take it, we’re both dead.”

  “Spit it out,” she hissed.

  Five minutes later she climbed up to the deck with Doughboy latched on to the side of her face. I’d made him promise me he wouldn’t melt and eat her head, and in exchange I promised him more goblin heads to nosh instead.

  Needless to say she wasn’t in love with the idea, but when I had told her it would make her less appealing to the horny sailors, her opinion changed fast.

  “Let me take your hand, you poor young flower,” said a salty dog with teeth more brown than white.

  “Do not touch me, you slimy squid!”

  I climbed over the rail behind her and moved in front of her, laughing. “Sorry about that. She’s got a condition that—”

  “What the hell is that thing on her face?” another sailor cried and pointed at Doughboy, who looked like a veiny growth on the side of her head.

  “That’s what I was about to mention,” I said, but the sailors surrounding us didn’t find it funny. They glared at us with growing suspicion.

  “Poor Sarah here has a condition, and—”

  “Looks like a damn sea monster’s attached itself to her,” said a gray-haired man.

  “She’s cursed!” another yelled.

  “She’s not cursed. That is the mark of Zodin.”

  The men made what I assumed was a religious gesture: they kissed their right thumb and pressed it against each eye, left to right.

  “Captain!” someone yelled, and the crowd parted for a portly man in a suit one size too small.

  “What’s this I hear about a cursed maiden?” he asked in a deep, jolly voice. His beady eyes found Evangeline, and they grew larger when he saw the growth on her face. “Oh….”

  “You are the captain?” I extended my hand.

  He looked at it, then at Evangeline, then back to me. He did not offer his hand.

  “Name’s Captain Blarth Bigsby. Who are you?”

  “I’m Jake Baker, this is Sarah Potter. It’s good to meet you, Captain.”

  “From where do you hail?”

  “Turrak, sir.”

  “Where in Turrak?”

  “Brison Point,” said the princess.

  “And what’s that thing on her face? Looks like disease to me,” he said, and the men behind him grumbled agreement.

  “Like I said, it’s the mark of Zodin. Sarah here is a priestess, and—”

  “There ain’t no Turrak priestesses.” He was all business now.

  “I’m the first,” Evangeline said hastily.

  The captain’s eyes narrowed.

  “If you know your history,” she explained in a voice laced with entitlement, “Jebraham the Wise was the first priest of Zodin, even before Marzalender the Righteous. He too was blessed with the mark of Zodin. And like him, I am a messenger of the gods. He spoke to me, you know. He told me I would be rescued, first by a man from Brison Point with a Halberd like no other—”

  The sailors glanced at the pizza shovel strapped to my back.

  “—and second by a noble captain and a brave crew who flew the serpent’s flag. Are you that noble captain?”

  Captain Bigsby glanced at his men and grinned. “I’m a captain all right, and the best damn one that ever flew the serpent flag. But I ain’t too noble.”

  The crew laughed, but the princess’s over-the-top laughter drowned it out. She sounded like a nutty zealot, and everyone looked at her with alarm. Some even took a few steps back.

  “This day shall be remembered for all eternity,” the princess declared. “Oh, the tales people will tell of the great Captain Bigsby and how he ushered home the first priestess of Zodin. Why, you’ll most likely be sainted!”

  “I will?” said Bigsby, and his eyes twinkled with visions of grandeur.

  “They’ll build statues of you, monuments even. And the king… you know how religious the man is. He’ll name you head of his merchant fleet. Oh, good captain, won’t you bring your priestess home?”

  The captain scratched his head. Some of the crew nodded enthusiastically, others shook their heads, scowled, and spit.

  “We’re headed as far as Havenport,” he said, and the princess clapped happily.

  “Oh thank you, thank you,” she gushed.

  “It really means a lot to us,” I put in. “After being attacked at sea by those damned pirates, I thought we were doomed.”

  “How is it that she was marked so?” a crewmen asked. The others seemed to want to know as well.

  I made up a story that left them enthralled, and the princess chimed in when details were needed. In the end, the captain agreed to take us as far as Havenport, and we were led below deck to an empty cabin usually reserved for the naval priest. The priest had fallen ill shortly after they set sail, and they had been forced to drop him off at the nearest allied port with well wishes and promises to pick him up on the way back.

  Lucky us. Too bad for him.

  “That was pretty impressive, Eva,” I said after the cabin door closed behind me. “You’re like a friggin’ movie star or some shit.”

  “My name is Evangeline,” she said with a scowl. She peeled D off her face and threw him against the wall. He hit with a wet fart noise and slid to the floor, and t
here he sat, looking all pathetic.

  “Hey!” I protested.

  “That was disgusting!” she said and wiped at her face frantically. “I can’t believe I agreed to let that thing touch me. Yuck!”

  She ran to the washbasin and splashed her face repeatedly.

  “You’re going to have to wear him again,” I told her. “And what’s with throwing him against the wall? He’s got feelings, you know.”

  “Feelings?”

  “Yeah, feelings. Jesus, way to be a buzzkill. We just pulled off the scam of the century, and all you’re worried about is a little dough on your face.”

  “I pulled off the scam of the century. You nearly blew the whole thing with your lack of any practical knowledge of Tarth. I can’t believe you said the pirates had a dark elf. What in Zodin’s name is a dark elf?”

  “Who gives a shit?” I whisper-yelled. “We’ve got a dry place to sleep, and we’re safe from the damn ravens and the Goblin King.”

  “Safe? They’ll just follow the ship.”

  “Boy, you’re an ungrateful little bitch.” I offered a hand to D. He jumped into it and climbed up to my shoulder, eyeing the princess with a sad face.

  “Excuse me?” she said, utterly shocked.

  “You heard me. You’re a miserable, ungrateful, rotten-hearted, stuck-up bitch. Maybe no one’s ever told you that, but I guarantee a shit-ton of people have thought it.”

  She fumed, her face beet red and fists shaking at her sides. She stalked toward me, an accusatory finger leading the way. “You are a disgusting, brutish, vulgar, beast of a man. You would be hanged for your words if we were in my kingdom.”

  She poked me in the chest and glared, and I grinned at her. She had a look in her eyes I’d seen a dozen times before. They were fuck-me eyes, but I was pretty sure she wasn’t aware of it. She was a princess, and presumably a virgin, and given her sheltered existence, she didn’t know shit about romance.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You’re cute when you get worked up.”

  “Cute?” She said the word like it was the most disgusting thing she’d ever heard.

  “Look, I’m not your enemy, so how about you stop acting like I am. Shit, woman, we just duped the entire crew into taking us in. You did amazing, by the way. I thought for sure you were going to blow it, but you really did great.”

  “Of course I did amazing,” she said haughtily.

  “Lord give me strength.” I took off my boots.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Resting. I assume Havenport is pretty far away.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said and pointed at the bed. “I’m sleeping there. You can sleep on the floor, or better yet, in another cabin.”

  “You know what? I’d love to, but we need to stick together. If you think I’m letting you out of my sight, you’re nucking futs. But you can have the bed. I am a gentleman, after all.”

  She glowered at Doughboy. “Tell him to stop making those big sad eyes at me.”

  “Why don’t you tell him you’re sorry?” Doughboy was still on my shoulder. He blinked heavily, looked away from the princess, and sighed.

  “I’m not telling a lump of dough that I’m sorry.”

  “Whatever.”

  I took the fur blankets out of the backpack and made a bed, using the pack as a pillow, then I barred the door with my pizza shovel and took off my clothes.

  “What are you doing?”

  I tossed the pauldrons into a corner and peeled off my shirt. The princess blushed and turned away, huffing loudly. “You shouldn’t even be sleeping in the same room with me, let alone getting undressed.”

  “Never been to the beach?” When she glanced back at me, I dropped my pants.

  She looked me up and down at light speed before averting her eyes again. I had on boxers, but I knew that to her, I might as well have been naked.

  I laughed and settled into my bed. Doughboy snuggled up beside me and let out a long sigh. The princess continued to sputter indignantly.

  “I demand you take your, your, your fucking Doughboy and remove yourself from my quarters!”

  “Jesus, lady. Keep it down, or you’re going to blow our cover. And what kind of lady says the F-word? I didn’t even know you guys had that word.”

  “I’m not sleeping with a half-naked man—”

  “Shut the hell up, you spoiled brat!” I hissed. “Another word, and I’m going to see how much the captain would pay for the princess of an enemy nation.”

  “You wouldn’t.” She was aghast.

  “Don’t test me, princess.”

  I dozed off in about two seconds and slept like a rock—until a commotion invaded my dreams. I tried to ignore it, but the noise became so intrusive, my eyes shot open. I sat up angrily. Men were yelling commands, and they had an edge of fear in their voices that told me we were in trouble.

  The princess was fast asleep on the bed.

  “Eva,” I whispered, and when she didn’t stir, I got up and gave her a little shake. “Eva!”

  “What?” she said groggily.

  “Somethings going on. Wake up.”

  “Leave me alone.” She rolled over and pulled the blanket over her head.

  “I’m going up to see what’s happening.”

  Suddenly she was wide awake. “You can’t leave me here alone.”

  Just a few hours ago, she’d wanted me to do just that. “I’ll be right back. Doughboy will keep you safe.”

  “I’m going with you.” She began to get up.

  “Fine, but you’ll have to wear Doughboy on your face,” I reminded her.

  She stopped dead. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll wait here.”

  “I thought you’d say that.” I offered her a wink that wasn’t the least appreciated. “I’ll be back soon. Bar the door when I leave, and don’t open it for anyone but me. And if you do open it, because, you know, you don’t like to listen, make sure you’re wearing Doughboy on your head.”

  I left and closed the door tight behind me. I wasn’t too worried about Eva. If anyone tried to get in, D would eat their faces and spit out their bones.

  What concerned me was the commotion above and below deck. The cabin door opened onto a narrow hallway, and the stairs leading topside were to my right. A commander was ordering men to their stations, and I heard mention of cannonballs.

  I raced up the stairs and was surprised to discover I had slept the entire day away. It was just past sunset. I didn’t have a watch, and I’d left my cellphone back at Romano’s Pizzeria, so I couldn’t determine how many hours there were in a Tarth day, but it seemed to be around twenty-four hours. Perhaps less.

  I made a mental note to ask the princess about it when we weren’t in the middle of a sea battle.

  “What’s going on?” I asked the closest seaman.

  The captain stomped over to me on his way to the poop deck, and his expression told me he was terrified.

  “It’s the orc pirate ship, Grimclaw.” The captain pointed behind me.

  I turned. “Holy shit!” The orc ship was oily black and covered in some kind of crude sheet metal, with sharp-edged designs carved into the hull. The figurehead wasn’t made of metal or even wood, it was a dragon—a real honest to god, living dragon. The beast was huge, and I noticed immediately that its four legs had been amputated. It had bleeding sores everywhere the thick chains that held it in place touched its scales. My heart broke for the dragon, but it also feared its wrath.

  The wings spanned at least thirty feet. They beat furiously against the dark blue water, and the momentum pulled the orc ship along at incredible speeds… straight toward us.

  “Get below deck.” The captain grabbed my arm and pulled me closer. “And pray that priestess of yours is truly blessed!”

  He gave me a shove, and I darted down the stairs two at a time. I reached the cabin and beat on the door.

  “It’s me!” I yelled to Eva.

 
; A porthole was nearby. I went over, peered out and saw the orc ship, mean and black and sleek as death. It veered left and came in at an angle, and the poor wretched beast attached to the front bellowed forth a jet of flame.

  I leaped back from the porthole as fire engulfed it. Men screamed like I had never heard them scream before, and the boat lurched as the hot wall of flame slammed into it.

  “Jake? What’s going on?” the princess asked from the door.

  “Get down!” I screamed and staggered to my feet.

  Cannons erupted from our ship and theirs. The sound turned the world upside down, and I was deaf and off balance. The wall to my right exploded, and my world became chaos and pain.

  I realized I was on my back and opened my eyes. Smoke hung thick in the air, illuminated by the dragon fire shining through the big cannonball hole in the wall across from me. My ears rang, my head spun, and I felt stinging pain all over my body. I touched my right arm, where most of the pain was centered, and felt about a dozen pointy slivers.

  “Evangeline!” I bellowed and pulled myself to my feet.

  I swayed drunkenly and bounced against the wall, which drove the slivers deeper. I steadied myself and tried to think. Which way had I been facing? The slivers indicated my right side had been facing the wall with the hole, and I staggered in that direction.

  “Eva!” I called through the choking fog of smoke.

  “I’m here.”

  Her voice was muffled. I floundered for the handle and yanked the door open. Then I hurried inside and slammed it shut behind me.

  Another volley of cannonballs tore into our ship, and it lurched badly, bouncing me off the wall. The princess was thrown as well, but Doughboy cushioned her collision. The lantern hanging from the ceiling spun in circles, and between that and the smoke, I felt like I was at a hell of a gnarly rave. Instead of dance music, the entertainment for the night were the screams of the dying, explosions, and the roar of the tortured armless and legless dragon.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, but Eva wasn’t in any condition to answer. She was pressed into a corner with her hands over her ears, crying uncontrollably.

  I crawled over and wrapped my arms around her. She curled into me, clinging to my shirt with quivering hands. Then Doughboy jumped onto my back and covered my head like a helmet.