Critical Failures VII

by Robert Bevan

  “I've not seen all the whores or late-night games of Golden Dragons.”

  “Felania, please!” snapped Fazul. “The children!”

  The children's heads turned left and right as their parents shouted at each other as if they were enjoying a tennis match. This was clearly not their first such altercation, and must have passed for entertainment in a world without television.

  “Oh, I've seen the children all right.” Felania gulped down what was left in her cup, then hurled it across the table at her husband. “I see them every day. Every scraped knee, every soiled diaper, every runny nose. I see it all, while you fondle loose women the same way you fondled that chicken!”

  Chaz was relieved that he wasn't the only one to have picked up on that imagery. He reached down for his lute case, hoping to lighten the mood before the argument escalated any further.

  Fazul slammed his fist down on the table. “I shall not be insulted like this in my own house!”

  “Not for very long,” said Felania. She swiped her daughter's empty cup and filled it from the wine pitcher. “I know you've got more Teleport spells tucked away in that wicked mind of yours. As soon as I fall asleep, you'll be back on the Crescent Shadow, buying drinks for harlots and pleasuring yourself to Live Nude Gnomes!”

  Fazul turned to Chaz. “Please accept my humble apologies. My wife does not handle her drink well. I pray you ignore her rantings.”

  “I can smell them on you,” said Felania. She waved her cup under her nose and inhaled. “My father kept gnomish servants for fifty years when I was a child. Do not think I don't know a gnome twat when I smell one.”

  With that, the wine was officially ruined for Chaz. He strummed his lute and worked in a Sleep spell as he began to sing Forever in Blue Jeans.” The youngest of the three older children, sitting nearest Chaz, collapsed face-down in his nearly-empty porridge bowl.

  “That is lovely,” said Felania as Chaz continued to sing. “I've never heard anything like it. Is this that new style of music rumored to be coming from the Barovian peninsula?”

  Julian smiled. “I very seriously doubt that.”

  The second eldest son was the next to drop, and the daughter's eyelids were getting heavy. But Felania remained wide awake as she drank her wine and enjoyed Chaz's song.

  “What is Blue Jeans?” she asked. “Is that the eternal resting place for followers of this New God I've heard so much about?”

  Julian smiled, then opened his mouth to answer, but Chaz nodded. It was easier this way.

  “Yes,” said Julian. “That's exactly what it is.”

  Felania nodded in time with the music. “It sounds like a lovely place.”

  THUNK!

  The daughter's face hit the table pretty hard when she finally went down.

  Felania looked at her stepdaughter face-down on the table, then broke down in tears. Chaz thought it was a bit of an overreaction. The girl would be okay. He kept playing and singing.

  “Forgive me, Fazul!” bawled Felania. “I love you! Please don't leave me!”

  Fazul smiled warmly at her. “I shall never leave you, my love.”

  “I'll be a good wife from now on, I promise! I'll do whatever you –” Felania's cup clattered on the floor, spilling what little wine remained in it as she finally joined her stepchildren in magical slumber.

  Chaz ended the song. “Jesus Christ. I thought she'd never go down.”

  “She shouldn't have,” said Julian. “Elves are immune to Sleep spells.”

  “Shit. I wish I'd known that before I... Wait, then why did she...”

  “This was no effect of magic,” said Fazul. “As I mentioned before, my wife... she does not handle her drink well.” He shrugged. “But it makes no difference. Let us be grateful for a moment's peace. Who would like another drink?”

  “I think we've all had enough to drink tonight,” said Julian.

  Chaz didn't appreciate being spoken for. “I wouldn't mind another cup. I was taking it easy because I knew I'd have to perform. But I'm actually starting to get a taste for this stuff.”

  Julian kept his focus on Fazul. “Let's get something straight. We're business partners, and we have an arrangement.”

  “Why do you speak to me in such a manner? You are a guest in my house, and I have held up my end of the arrangement. You carry the evidence next to your testicles.”

  “That's only half of what we asked for.”

  Fazul grinned at him. “Please, friends! Stay with me and drink tonight. Nazere will still be there in the morning.”

  “Yeah, Julian,” said Chaz. “What's the hurry? Chill out and have a drink.” He was no more thrilled to be spending the night in this lunatic asylum than Julian, but that was nothing a gallon of wine couldn't fix.

  Julian narrowed his eyes at Chaz. “We have friends to meet in Nazere, and I have something I'd like to get off my chest.” He pointed at his crotch under the table where Fazul's view was blocked. “Other people may also be looking for those friends as we speak... or for us.”

  Julian seemed to be going heavy on the innuendo, but Chaz didn't think he was picking up everything he was trying to say.

  “And we'll get there,” he said. “Like my man said, Nazere's not going anywhere. What difference is one day going to make?”

  “Listen to your friend,” said Fazul. “Relax and have some wine. As a user of magic, you understand that I must take time in the morning to prepare my spells.”

  “Bullshit,” Julian said sharply. “You can't hide your shenanigans from your wife, and you can't hide them from us. You've got more Teleports in that head. She knows it, you know it, and we know it. You're waiting for us to pass out so you can go back to the Crescent Shadow right now, aren't you?”

  Fazul opened his mouth to speak, then broke eye contact. “I have only one more Teleport spell prepared for the day, and I have a prior engagement on the Crescent Shadow.” He looked pleadingly at Chaz. “But it is not what you think.”

  “Gambling and whores?” Chaz guessed.

  Fazul sighed and shrugged. “Very well. It is what you think. Please do not judge me, for I am weak.”

  “We're not here to judge you,” said Julian. “Apart from our business partnership, you're free to do whatever you want with your life. But what happens when your wife wakes us up in the middle of the night asking us where you are? Who you're with?”

  Fazul's face reddened. “Are you threatening me, elf?”

  “No, I'm not threatening you! I just don't want to be in that situation.”

  Julian made a good point. Sleeping in a stranger's house with his fucked-up family was awkward enough without being responsible for ineffectively covering for him while he was out banging whores.

  “I'm starting to warm up to Julian's point of view here,” he said. “What he's trying to say is that you should save your whoring money for more gambling.”

  “WHAT?” shrieked Julian. “That is absolutely not what –”

  Chaz shut him up with a look, then walked around to Fazul's side of the table. “There are women on Nazere right now. Friends of ours.” Technically, none of what he'd said so far was a lie. “Think about it. We'll bring a few jugs of wine along, get fucked up, sing some songs. We'll be out there under the stars with the waves crashing on the beach.” He put his arm around Fazul's shoulders. “And the best part is, you've got RazzmaChaz as your wingman.”

  Fazul sipped his drink thoughtfully. “That does sound nice.”

  “Doesn't it?” said Julian with just a slight hint of sarcasm and scorn.

  “Very well. Gather your belongings, and I shall retrieve my finest bottle of spirits. How many glasses should I bring?”

  Chaz shrugged. “Bring one for yourself if you want to. I don't need anything too fancy. I'll just hold on to this cup.”

  Fazul ducked behind a bar which stood where a television might in a modern living room. He produced a fancy-looking blue liquor bottle with silver writing that Chaz couldn't read. Next to it, he s
et down three shot glasses shaped like the torsos of naked women.

  “I meant for the ladies, of course. We men can sit around a table, casually speaking of war and tits while we pour cheap wine down our gullets from common cups. But I've found women prefer a touch of class and sophistication. It provides for them the illusion of being less whorish.”

  Julian stared at the tits on his shot glass. “Class and sophistication. Gotcha.”

  “Six glasses should be fine,” said Chaz, blurting out a random number to hasten their way through this part of the conversation before Julian was unable to keep his thoughts to himself. There might be six women on the island. The only one he could think of that was definitely single was Rhonda. And if Fazul wanted to hit that, he'd be better off keeping all the booze for himself and chugging it straight from the bottle. “Julian, would you care to join me in fetching your familiar?”

  Julian nodded grimly, then followed Chaz into the kitchen, where Ravenus lay on the table next to the overturned bucket.

  “Shit,” said Chaz. “Is he okay?”

  “He's fine.” Julian took the towel next to the washbasin and wrapped Ravenus in it. “He's just sleeping off a big meal.”

  “Do you think you could ease off the attitude in there?”

  Julian glared at him. “What attitude? I've barely said a word.”

  “You're the one with the big hardon for Nazere. All I'm asking you to do is be nice until we get there.”

  “I'm trying, but that guy's such a creep.”

  “Just take it easy, huh? Have a drink or something, and let's get through this.”

  “All right.” Julian tucked his swaddled sleeping bird under his arm, then led the way back into the living room where Fazul was enjoying a glass of his fancy blue-bottled liquor as he studied a large age-yellowed map unrolled on the bar.”

  “What's that you're looking at?” asked Chaz, trying to contain his impatience.

  Fazul looked up from his map. “I am locating Nazere.”

  “Locating?” said Julian. “You mean you don't even know where it is?”

  “Of course I know.” Fazul gulped back his shot, ran his tongue along the rim of the glass, then pressed it upside-down on the map. When he removed it, his saliva formed a perfect circle around a small unlabeled speck of land in the middle of a large ocean. “There it is. Nazere.”

  Chaz studied the map for some hint that differentiated that speck from any of the others nearby, but nothing jumped out at him. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.” Fazul nodded, then frowned down at his map. “Fairly certain. I have never actually been there before.”

  “That's going to affect your accuracy, isn't it?” said Julian. “I mean, in addition to you being drunk. Are you sure you're okay to teleport?”

  Fazul laughed and waved dismissively at Julian. “Have no fear, elf. I am fine.”

  Chaz could smell the liquor on his breath from across the bar. He'd gotten into cars with drivers in worse condition before, but he almost always regretted it during the drive.

  “What's the worst that could happen?” he rationalized aloud. “We arrive at the wrong island, sleep it off, and try again in the morning.”

  “Or we turn up in the middle of the ocean,” said Julian. He glanced warily at Fazul. “Or worse, half a mile above it.”

  Fazul started pouring himself another shot. “Stop worrying so much. It is not good for your health.”

  “Stop that!” snapped Julian. He snatched the drink away and sucked it down, then grimaced. “Jesus Christ!”

  Fazul shook his head and sighed. “You remind me of my wife.” His eyes and grin suddenly grew wide. “Speaking of bitches, let us make haste to these island whores!” He corked his bottle, then packed it and the six shot glasses into a satchel, which he slung over his shoulder. Then he reached across the bar to Chaz and Julian. “Ready?”

  If they didn't go now, Chaz wasn't sure they'd ever go. Julian was cracking, and Fazul was beginning to antagonize him even further. If the situation escalated, they might have far worse problems than having to swim a mile or two to Nazere. He took Fazul's hand and looked at Julian.

  “Come on, man. It's time to go.”

  The look Julian gave him was all too familiar. Do I get in the car with the drunk asshole at the wheel, or do I hang out alone in the empty parking lot of the closed bar with my dick in my hand? There was a clear right choice and wrong choice, but the wrong choice was a lot less complicated. Or at least it seemed so after spending the whole night getting shitfaced.

  Julian sighed, then took Chaz's and Fazul's outstretched hands.

  Fazul glanced down at the map one more time, nodded, and belched, which did little to reinforce Chaz's confidence in him.

  “What's happening?” said Ravenus, peeking out from Julian's robe. “Why am I terrified? What are we doing?”

  “Hush, bird!” snapped Fazul. “You will wake my wife!”

  Ravenus peered up at Julian. “What did he say?”

  Julian shushed him. “Let him concentrate.”

  Fazul closed his eyes and faced upward. “Nazere!”

  *

  An instant later, Chaz was drenched in water and surrounded by darkness. For a second, he thought he was in the ocean, but the muddy ground beneath his feet was solid. It was pissing down rain wherever they were, but they were alive and on land.

  “HA!” cried Julian. “We made it! We're here!”

  Fazul surveyed the darkness doubtfully. “This is Nazere? Where is all the ice and snow?”

  “We told you,” said Chaz. “It all melted. That's why it was safe to come here, remember?” He was even more relieved now. If Fazul brought them here thinking that the island was still under the control of the Ice Queen, he was even drunker than Chaz had thought.

  “Where are the women?” Fazul took his bottle from his satchel and took a swig straight from it. “I see only rain and mud.”

  “You didn't specify where on Nazere you wanted to be,” said Julian. “We're lucky to have hit the island at all in your condition.”

  Chaz looked around, but he couldn't see farther than ten feet in any direction because of the rain. “So which way do we go?”

  Julian shrugged. “When the rain lets up, I'll send out Ravenus. In the meantime, it's an island. We'll pick a direction and stick with it until we hit the coast, then go around it until we find some sign of the others.”

  Chapter 44

  “I don't know if it's worth all this effort,” said Tony the Elf when he caught up to Katherine and Tanner. “I mean, we'd all be a lot safer if we stayed together on the beach. The only reason we're dividing into two camps is to accommodate Mordred.”

  Katherine glanced back to make sure Mordred was out of earshot. The two dwarves carrying the palanquin they'd made by attaching two skinny tree trunks to his chair were way back there.

  “Accommodate him? He'll still be tied to a chair. Plus he'll be in pitch black darkness at the bottom of an abandoned mine shaft. That's hardly very accommodating. We're not even scratching the surface of humane. I just want to be able to take that shit bag off his head without him being able to figure out where he is. It's literally the absolute least we can do for him.”

  “Who cares? It's Mordred. Think about who he is, what he's done to us. Tanner, he actually murdered you. What do you think?”

  Tanner shrugged. “I pulled through. Mayhap I won't shed too many tears at news of his passing, but I wouldn't wish my worst enemy to suffer having to wear a bag of half-orc shit on his head.”

  “He isn't suffering!” said Tony the Elf. “Not unless he chooses to. That was the whole point of the bag. He has other avatars to occupy. Keeping him out of this one keeps us safer. Never mind all the climbing up and down we'll have to do just to feed him.”

  Katherine turned on him with a hard glare and swallowed back the urge to smack him with the shovel she was carrying to scoop up Mordred's shit. “Don't worry about it, Tony the Elf. I'll take care of the
feeding.” She glanced back to make sure the others were still far enough behind. “It sucks that we have to keep this asshole tied to a chair with a shitbag on his head, but that's a choice we who have assumed leadership positions have made to keep our people as safe as we can. I know I'm not the only one of us who thinks we're treating him inhumanely. You're closer to them than I am. Tell me it's not true.”

  Tony the Elf sighed and nodded. “There have been some grumbles. But I'm on your side. I understand that sometimes you have to do shitty things for the greater good.”

  “I don't want there to be sides. What if they decide to revolt and free Mordred entirely, hoping that he'll show mercy on them at our expense? Removing the bag should satisfy most of the grumblers. And keeping Mordred down in a mine will keep them from thinking about him all the time.”

  “Out of sight, out of mind.”

  “Exactly,” said Katherine. “Everybody's a little on edge, and we're playing a waiting game right now. The best thing we can do is try to keep everyone as calm and positive as possible.”

  Tony the Elf started walking again. “That makes sense. I didn't know you'd put that much thought into it.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “I didn't mean it like that. There's a lot at stake here. I just didn't want to think you were acting on some kind of mercy impulse.”

  Katherine laughed. “I don't get those kinds of impulses very often. I guess I'm kind of a bitch that way.”

  When they arrived at the mine entrance, Katherine cast a Light spell on a small chunk of charred wood from the previous day's fire.

  “Tanner, why don't you make sure the others know how to get here?”

  Tanner gave her a smile and a bow. “As you command, Captain.”

  She vastly preferred his company to Tony the Elf's, but Tony the Elf was starting to question her judgment again, and now wasn't the time to make him feel like an errand boy that she wanted to get rid of.

  “Do you mind helping me secure the rope before the others get here?” she asked Tony the Elf.