How to Pick Up Women with a Drunk Space Ninja

by Jay Key

  “Baby steps?”

  “Yes, baby steps. In time, I hope that I will conclude that he is honest and true and there aren’t any sinister motives. Until then, he remains tied up.”

  “But we follow his directions?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sorry, Vern. I tried.” Duke shouted back at the Northerner.

  “Her points are valid and understandable,” responded Vernglet. “In time, I hope that they see my true colors.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” chimed in Ma’n. “We haven’t had the best of luck regarding people’s true colors as of late.”

  The group pressed on. Now down to only six—including the quasi-prisoner, Vernglet Wip—they did not have a scout or flanks, and traveled in a single huddled mass. As they pressed northwest, following the priest’s guidance, the landscape began to slowly change. Increasingly, the sprawling grasslands were dotted with giant angled stones. On the horizon, bluffs sprouted up in the shadows of a mountain range that seemed to touch the sky.

  “The Valley of the Grundar,” Vern said, pointing at the first set of rocky cliffs. “There is a passage that leads through to the valley. From there, we can approach Orbius without detection—or, at least, reduced chances of detection. It’s only a two-day march.”

  “The valley is safe?”

  “Safe from Orbius’ men—yes. Other than that, I cannot guarantee anything.”

  “That’s reassuring,” said Bu’r.

  “It’s the best that we have,” responded Ja’a. “If we push, we can make it to the passage and into the valley long before nightfall.”

  “I’m not camping out there, Ja’a,” shouted Ma’n. “What if the legends are true? What if there are actual grundar?”

  “Not this again,” interjected Duke.

  “Then we need to push harder and make it through the valley and en route to Orbius.”

  “I’m okay with that!”

  The rebels picked up their pace. Ma’n and Bu’r moved ahead of the others, clearly spooked by the thought of the flying fire-breathing felines. Ishiro’shea remained at the back with Vernglet, who was having trouble moving faster due to his arms being bound behind his back.

  Duke turned to Ja’a. “How do you think Po’l’s doing?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it. I hope he finds his way to Orbius safely. That’s all that I can say.”

  “Understood. Can we at least talk about Lo’n?”

  “What about him?”

  “Ja’a, I didn’t see a speck of emotion from you when everything went down. Surely—”

  “I’m fine. A leader does not let emotions dictate their decisions. It was obvious what happened.”

  “It was?”

  “Yes, it doesn’t make sense as to why he would do it—but I know he did it.”

  “Don’t you feel betrayed?”

  “He was the closest thing that I had to a father outside of my own. Of course. However, I feel worse for my father. His best friend not only betrayed him, but tried to send his daughter into the clutches of the very thing that he fought against. I don’t want to know what he would think now.”

  She clutched her necklace. Duke could see that sadness was trying to break through her defenses.

  “I’ve been around this universe too many times to count, but I’ve yet to find a leader so dedicated to their cause as you. I mean it. No joke. I know we haven’t seen eye-to-eye on everything, but—”

  His rare and heartfelt plea was interrupted by a shout from Ma’n. “Is that the passage?”

  “Vernglet?” asked Ja’a.

  “Yes. We go through that opening and within moments the sky will open up and we will be standing in the Valley of the Grundar.”

  Ja’a turned to Duke. “Thank you.”

  She then picked up her pace and took the command position as they approached the cave.

  As Vernglet had predicted, the walk through the passage was short and uneventful. And it did open up to a valley—and quite dramatically. Duke estimated the valley was the size of the whole of Dre’en. The mountainous cliffs surrounded the lush landscape. Greens, yellows, and whites adorned the beautiful palette; the valley seemed untouched by even the primitive level of civilization elsewhere on Neprius. It was picturesque and, more importantly, quiet. The lack of life was almost unsettling.

  “It’s a direct route to the other end of the valley,” said Vernglet. “There is another passage—not too dissimilar than the one we just left. That will put us out due west of the base. When we near the village of Horteyaya, we can take a northern route to avoid Orbius’ many eyes and soon we will see the fortress.”

  “Thank you. And I do believe that I owe you this.” Ja’a walked to him and drew out a single arrow from her quiver. The priest winced involuntarily, but Ja’a grabbed his rope bonds and sliced them off in one single motion with the edge of the arrowhead. The priest exhaled.

  “You haven’t led us astray and I want to show you trust. Our people have battled for so long that trust will be the hardest gift to bestow, but I want to start that process now. Here. With you. We are both children of Neprius and we can never heal unless we both see that.”

  Vernglet Wip bowed in appreciation.

  “Enough of this—let’s go kill us an Orbmaster!” Duke said, twirling his laser revolver on a finger. “How about it, guys? Let’s do this!”

  His attempts at rallying the troops fell flat. “Hey Ja’a, tell me about the grundar again? Winged fire-breathing panthers, right?”

  “Yes, that’s the legend. Though I’ve never seen—”

  “I think you’re wrong.”

  “Wrong about what?”

  “They’re big-ass winged fire-breathing panthers that look really pissed off—oh yeah, and you’re about to see one.”

  The entire group turned to see what Duke had witnessed. Landing without a sound was a massive flying cat. The saber-like teeth that protruded from the upper jaw were each about the length of Duke’s arm.

  As one, the group drew their weapons.

  “It’s a grundar. A real one,” uttered Bu’r in amazement. “I can’t believe it.”

  The beast let out a deafening growl. Perfect murder machines, thought Duke. Almost beautiful, if you take out the whole “likely to kill us” part.

  “Hold fire,” said Ja’a. “It could be scared of us. It probably hasn’t seen a Neprian before.”

  “It doesn’t look too scared,” replied Duke. “And it looks like we’re about to meet its friends.”

  A dozen more grundar were flying from the cliffs on a direct path to them. They landed, encircling the rebels and providing no exit.

  “Back to back, everyone!” shouted Ja’a. “Hold steady.”

  “If they really can breathe fire, we’re about to be toast. Literally,” Duke added. “Great, another one. And it’s really, really big.”

  A final grundar descended from the sky. It was a grundar a head taller than the next largest. But the major difference was that it carried a passenger. A not-friendly-looking passenger.

  Duke had wondered if he appeared gargantuan only because he was sitting atop the majestic beast—but he was quickly proven wrong. When the grundar rider dismounted he stood twice the height of the tallest human. His face was almost skeletal in appearance, gray skin pulled tight against his bones, but his frame was muscular. His eyes were pupil-less; as if someone had stuffed a pair of polished onyx stones into his eye sockets. Somehow, though, they contained life and emotion. The weathered shroud that he wore matched the color of his eyes and its tatters and rips flowed in the air upon his descent. He carried a staff of warped wood, almost the size of a young tree, and marked with wounds inflicted by combat and time.

  The rebels kept their weapons drawn. The grundar rider snarled in his displeasure, showing jagged teeth that could cut iron.

  Two of the grundar parted as he approached the encircled band of warriors. Duke fired his laser revolver impulsively. The giant raised his left hand
and deflected the energy pulse. Not even a scratch.

  “You guys are getting more and more daring.”

  There was a slight hiss to his voice.

  “Wait… what?” Duke blurted out. “What are you talking about?”

  “I didn’t think that your leader would send you into my valley.”

  “This seems familiar,” Duke whispered to Ishiro, recalling the Keeper’s confused insistence that they were swamp cannibals.

  “Our leader?” asked Ja’a.

  “The one that stole the Orb and is trying to bring the end to life.”

  “Wait… what?” Duke said again.

  “Enough of your stalling. Girls, ready to pounce...”

  “We are not the warriors of which you speak,” Ja’a proclaimed. “We are trying to stop him. We are trying to destroy the Orb.”

  The grundar were growing restless.

  “Nice try,” the grundar rider said dismissively. “I’ve seen your types. And I know that he is your leader.” He pointed.

  Vernglet looked genuinely shocked.

  “What? Vern?” Duke blurted out. “He’s actually our prisoner. Well, sort of. He was our prisoner.”

  “A prisoner that sports no bonds or chains?”

  “Good eye. I can explain that,” replied Duke, with a touch of embarrassment.

  “Your people must have a very liberal interpretation of ‘prisoner.’ He looks like all of the others—digging and mining and destroying. I knew it was only a matter of time before you made it to my valley.”

  “I assure you, Master of the Grundar, I am no leader. And these people speak the truth,” began Vernglet. “My people—my former people—follow the orb-stealer. I’m afraid he is unstoppable with the power that it brings him.”

  The rider seemed to consider Vernglet’s claim.

  “Nice try, again. You are but six. Am I to believe that you are going to take down this Orbmaster? And his army?”

  “His name is Orbius.”

  “Cute.”

  “We are going to try,” proclaimed Ja’a.

  “You are a feisty one. Are you the leader?”

  “Yes, and, kind sir, if we were part of this horde, do you think that the Orbmaster would have sent only us six to capture the Valley of the Grundar?”

  “Very good point.” He scratched his cheek with a spindly finger which ended in a hooked nail.

  “But how did you learn that this Orbmaster knows of my existence? I’ve been in this valley for ages without a single interaction from your kind. Or yours.” He pointed at the priest.

  “It’s clear that you’ve been in battle.”

  She motioned towards a grundar with a gash on its right front leg, then at another with a cut between its eyes.

  “You are quite observant and correct, leader.”

  “My name is Ja’a. From the Southern landmass. A long way from here. My people were enslaved by Orbius. We are fighting back against him and his army. We want to be free again. We want Neprius—this planet—to be free again.”

  “And us two, we’re from outer space,” Duke said, trying to imbue the term “outer space” with mystic spookiness.

  It was apparent that the grundar rider was not shocked or impressed by the concept of cosmic life.

  “I’m Duke LaGrange,” Duke concluded weakly. “This is my compatriot, Ishiro’shea.”

  “Is that so?”

  “And sorry about shooting you earlier. Habit.”

  “Wait, was that thing that you hurled at me supposed to be a weapon?”

  Duke opened his mouth but at first nothing came out. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, anyways.”

  “Why are you fighting Orbius?” asked Ja’a.

  “He has the Orb—and therefore he has the ability to levy uncontrolled carnage to my valley. The Orb only brings destruction. My friends and I are not ready to see our home destroyed again. We will eventually have to face this Orbmaster. I was in battle with a garrison southeast of here, until I heard that someone had entered the valley.”

  “You were battling an entire garrison by yourself?” Ma’n blurted out.

  The rider gazed at Ma’n and then nodded.

  “How did this Orbius get hold of the Orb? I thought it was lost to time; its stories and legends all but evaporated with the ancient races. With my race.”

  “It was stolen,” Duke jumped in, “from the Keeper.”

  “The Keeper?”

  “Yes, the only other thing on this planet that’s as big as you. He was guarding it in his temple.”

  “Oh, wait—do you mean Toby?”

  The rebels looked shocked.

  “Toby?” asked Ma’n.

  “Now that makes so much sense,” said the grundar rider, appearing more relaxed. He repositioned his staff to support his weight. “I can’t believe he’s still around. I’d like to give him a piece of this!” He raised a fist. “Calling himself the Keeper, huh? If there’s one thing that he’s not good at, it’s keeping things. You know he’s lost it before, right? And he’s not much good at finding things either, I guess.”

  “Yep, he told us. He also told us that he was the only thing to survive the destruction caused by the Sphere of Power. So how do you know him?”

  “That’s not entirely true,” the grundar rider said, ignoring the question. “Maybe near his home, he was the only thing to survive. The sphere sunk much of the land to the bottom depths of the sea.”

  “That explains the narrow land bridge,” added Ja’a.

  “But a few pockets of survivors remained—mostly in secluded areas. Not sure if they are still around, to be honest. I doubt it—that was a long time ago. Even we have expiration dates. I stayed in the mountains and started to breed grundar. It seemed like the best thing to do. I mean what else was I to do? An art retrospective? This is my seven thousand, three hundred and forty-eighth litter here.”

  He turned to his cats. “And my favorite!” he added in a playful tone.

  The grundar purred joyously. The rebels collectively relaxed.

  “You know about the people that gave it back to him after he lost it, then?”

  “I do. Peculiar race that came out of nowhere. I blinked—couldn’t have been but an age or two—and we had civilization again. Primitive, albeit, but civilization. Hadn’t made it to the soufflé stage yet.”

  “You knew they had the Orb—and that’s what was causing the war?”

  “I did not—not until I saw them give it back to Toby and block off the land bridge. Their skirmishes didn’t make it to my lands. I would occasionally scare an ambitious explorer in the valley but, other than that, I ignored them entirely. Had I known sooner, I would have tried to destroy it then. But Toby seemed to do a better job that time around. Until this latest fiasco. So this Orbius character stole it from good ol’ Toby?”

  “Actually, my father stole it from him,” Ja’a replied.

  The rider seemed taken aback by this tidbit of information. “This is getting really juicy now. Do tell,” he said eagerly.

  “Don’t you have a battle to go back to?” asked Bu’r.

  “They’ll wait. Go on,” the rider said, waving away Bu’r’s comment.

  Ja’a proceeded to fill the grundar rider in on the droughts, He’j and Jilarian Togg, the arrival of Duke and Ishiro’shea, and Lo’n’s betrayal. Vernglet explained his role in the tale. Duke talked about his conversation with Toby.

  “That’s quite a yarn. I’m actually inclined to believe it. It’s too ridiculous to make up. And Looloo over there seems to like you. I trust her.”

  The winged grundar nudged her nose into Bu’r’s back, knocking him down. She licked the top of his head.

  “So what should we call you?”

  “I am Fazeek, Shepherd of the Grundar. But you can call me ‘Shepherd of the Grundar.’”

  “Not where I thought he was going with that… but okay,” whispered Duke to Ishiro’shea.

  “Shepherd of the Grundar,” began Ja’a in a formal, alm
ost regal, voice, “do we have your permission to leave your valley and try and stop Orbius?”

  It was obvious that Fazeek loved the formality—and the fact that it was referred to as his valley.

  “By all means,” he responded. “But to truly be part of this, we need to get you to this Orbius a bit faster than your tiny legs can carry you.”

  He whistled and six of the winged beasts approached and submitted for mounting. Looloo leapt eagerly to Bu’r’s feet and knelt down.

  “I guess we go bareback,” remarked Duke. “Anyone else feel a bit uneasy about this?”

  The bounty hunter looked around. All of the others were already on their grundar and hovering above the ground. Duke hopped on, then was jolted back as the cat leapt to the sky to join the others.

  “My new friends—we have two goals. Destroy this Orbius. And find a way to destroy the Orb. It will not be easy. I will rejoin my loyal menagerie south of Orbius’ hideout and try and eliminate his main force. My lovelies will take you to the location of your desire—and then they will return to me and our battle.”

  “How do we tell them?” asked Ma’n.

  Fazeek looked perplexed.

  “With words.”

  “They understand us?” questioned Bu’r.

  “Of course,” Fazeek replied.

  The rebels all looked at each other. Duke didn’t know if he believed Fazeek.

  “And what about saddles?” asked Bu’r. “You don’t expect us to ride—”

  “Bareback, yes,” said Fazeek.

  “So, you’re telling me that these monsters are just going to let us hop on their backs and fly away; all the while, we are supposed to be skilled enough to balance without any saddles right out of the chutes?” questioned Bu’r again.

  “Not if you refer to them as ‘monsters’ again,” replied Fazeek.

  “This seems like a tall task,” added Ma’n.

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” said Fazeek. “You seem like an intelligent lot.” He sharply pivoted his oversized grundar and darted into the wide sky.

  The group of rebels stared at each other again, this time with downward turning lips and scrunched brows.

  What just happened?

  “Well, you heard the man,” Duke began, breaking the silence. “Vern, where are we going again?”