Why I Can't Have Nice Kings

by Matthew Helbig

  “Actually, he’s right,” a voice said from some nearby bushes.

  “Who goes there?” Wolf said.

  A familiar wet figure walked out of the shadows, looking no worse than before. The puppies had not, in fact, cuddled him to death. “Hi, there. My name is Werin, and I’m here to save you.” He peeled off a wig and a fake beard.

  “Wait,” Wolf said. “So, all Garandians with mustaches are really government agents?”

  “No, I only said that to make my entrance more dramatic.”

  Cat shook his hand. “Darn. Another one of my brilliant ideas down the tube, but I won’t hold it against you. You’re a hero, after all. Harry owes you his life, and so do we.”

  “All in a day’s work. The chancellor sent me. Hammurabi notified him through discreet channels of the importance of your journey.”

  “Hello, Father.” The ice in Jackal’s voice was so palpable that it gave me chills. “How did you know to find us here?”

  Werin nodded at her and continued like she wasn’t even there. “We have several agents out in the area. I figured you’d come this way, so I volunteered to fill in for this village’s idiot. Fortunately, he needed a vacation.”

  “Those are some of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard,” I said.

  “That didn’t come out of Cat’s mouth,” Wolf added.

  His story was all very nice and neat. He’d clearly thought of everything. Well, almost everything. It had one major hole in it. Without this one key piece of information, his story was nothing but a sham, the kind of thing that could derail everything and prove him to be an enemy agent out to kill us all. The kind of thing that could rock—nay, destroy the whole televised world of Vyenra.

  “How did you manage to pee for that long?” I asked.

  “I have a device in my pants.”

  “If I had a trakon for every time someone’s said that to me,” Cat said. “Yeah, don’t go into an alley with someone who tells you that, especially if it’s me.”

  Werin pulled his shirt up to display a tube extending from his left arm to his pants. “I press a button, and it sprays out like I’m peeing. There’s two bladders on my thighs with all the liquid. Every true idiot has to have a gimmick, so I thought I’d be the one who pees a lot. Plus, werepuppies are allergic to the liquid. It’s a lemon and turmeric mixture.”

  “You knew you’d run into werepuppies?” Wolf said.

  “Oh, yes. The people who are after you infected the villagers days ago. They figured the werepuppies would finish you off, then they’d come get the package in the morning when it was safe. Well, we’d better get going,” Werin said. “I think I hear puppies howling nearby, and I’m all out of pee.”

  Jackal had been strangely silent throughout all of that. She seemed to be trying to blend into the surroundings in the hope that he would forget about her. But with the way he was avoiding looking in her direction, I doubted she needed to make the effort.

  The Hairy Traitor

  We marched throughout the night. Surely, there had to be laws that required actors to be allowed to get some sleep. In spite of our tiredness, the constant howling kept us sharp and on edge. Nothing keeps a person more alert than fear, even if that fear is soft and adorable. The image of Banthin’s suddenly skeletal body didn’t help, either. To this day, I can’t see a commercial with a puppy and not shudder.

  When the sun rose, the howling ceased, presumably because werepuppies operate like werewolves by changing back in daylight; either that, or their sound person actually got to clock out and sleep, unlike us actors.

  What are the rules for werepuppies? Do they only change on a full moon? How do they decide whom to kill and whom to bite in order to create a new werepuppy? If you’re born to a werepuppy mom, do you inherit the affliction, or do you have to be bit, like anyone else? Do they prefer puppy food or human flesh? I should explore this in my next book.

  Oh, crap. They had me thinking this idiocy was actually logical again. I’d been running around this place for too long and had developed something like Stockholm Syndrome; I was starting to sympathize with my captors. I’m sure psychologists will want to study me and write papers on my experience. They will, of course, have to name this after me: Harry’s Syndrome, or Harry’s for short. “What’s wrong with him? Oh, he has a case of the Harry’s.” Like I hadn’t suffered enough. Just once, couldn’t they name something awesome after me, like running shoes— “Harry’s, for the coward on the go”—or beard trimmers? “You don’t have to be a writer to look like one.”

  For the first time, Werin motioned our group to a halt. We hadn’t stopped to catch our breath at all during the night, our fear being a very effective fuel. “I think the danger has passed. Sunlight usually stops them.”

  “Good. I’m beat,” I said.

  “Did you just say—insert something about beating? Sorry, I’m all out of juice for my usual witty play on words,” Cat said.

  “Did Cat say . . . I’ve got nothing, either,” Jackal said. “Need sleep.”

  “There should be a campsite over there,” Werin said, pointing to the woods. “The red cloth on the branches marks the direction. Agents use those to mark safe spots.”

  We lumbered through the forest. Mr. Plot Device was asleep on Cat’s shoulders. I was already starting to doze, and I don’t remember much else of what happened until we arrived at the campsite. The haze temporarily evaporated when we found that the campsite wasn’t deserted.

  Sitting by the fire was a well-muscled older man with a crisscross of scars covering his bare arms. He nodded and smiled as we approached, not the least bit frightened by five armed people. Werin nodded in return, seemingly indicating that he knew the man. Wolf peculiarly trailed back as we approached, his hand slowly heading toward his sword. When Jackal gave him a questioning glance, he shook his head and shooed her forward.

  Werin plopped down across from him. “Jorin, what brings you to these parts? I thought you were assigned to Sculan.”

  “The king himself pulled me out to come look for five travelers with an important package. Looks like ya found ’em, but I don’t remember any of them being a monkey.” He nodded toward the rest of us. We stopped a few feet away from the fire, following Wolf’s lead. “Sit down, please. We’re nothing but friends here.”

  “Daughter, sit down.” Werin turned his eyes toward the fire.

  Cat clapped his hands and sat next to Werin. “Please keep standing, Jackal. I want to see a spanking.”

  Jackal sat as far from her father as she could get. “I’m only doing this to spite you, Cat.”

  Wolf’s eyes never left Jorin. With the others in front of him, Jorin had evidently not gotten a good look at Wolf. Now that they were no longer in the way, recognition, then sadness lined his weathered face.

  Werin shrugged, pulled something out of his pocket, then began to roast it in the fire. “We’re all on the same side here. Forget about Bagus Bay and remember the mission.”

  “He’s right, Wolf.” Cat’s sentiment was mostly lost as he made spanking motions toward Jackal. For once, Jackal ignored him.

  Wolf finally removed his hand from his sword and sat next to Jackal. “Fine, but I’m not going to sleep as long as I know he’s around. We leave once everyone has gotten a few hours.”

  Werin continued to focus on his meat and the fire. “Five hours, then we head out. Jorin can stay behind and throw some misdirection on our trail.”

  “It’s refreshing to see you order someone else around like a child, Father,” Jackal whispered to the ground.

  Werin turned slightly toward her, and she flinched.

  Jorin nodded toward Werin. “I am more than happy to oblige the great Werin. If I’m doing that, could you drop off a few stragglers on the way?” He motioned toward the trees. A middle-aged man dressed like a shopkeeper holding the hand of a very attractive woman was walking slowly toward the fire. “Their village was attacked by some werepuppies, and I found ’em tramping through the woods. Name
s are Vartin and Alinda.”

  “We encountered those beasts, too,” Werin said. “Be happy to look after them. Everyone, get some sleep. We leave in five hours.”

  There was no time to be properly introduced to the newcomers, and everyone was much too tired to care. The newcomers seemed much too scared and unnerved to talk, anyway. Even Jackal dropped off to sleep within a few minutes of the command, though she made sure to put her bag as far away from her father as possible. Vartin, Alinda, and Wolf seemed to be the only ones not interested in sleep.

  I was awakened by shouting.

  “It’s gone. Daughter, why weren’t you watching it while we slept?”

  “Me? You’re the one who’s supposed to be the great protector of all things Garandian. How could the great Werin the Finder let something so important slip through his grasp? The great Werin I heard about non-stop would never let something like this happen to him. Maybe we should go find that Werin instead?”

  Sleep finally cleared from my eyes, and I could see the two of them, inches away from each other’s faces. Jackal had her bag open, and it was definitely emptier than when I fell asleep.

  “I knew it was a mistake to let you go out into the world and use my name. I think you should take off that ridiculous armor and put on an apron instead.”

  “Yes!” Cat said. “Except for the apron part.”

  “I thought you weren’t attracted to her, Cat,” I said.

  “I’m not. I’m just tired of being the only one on Team Naked.”

  Sleep deprivation and anger filled Wolf’s face as he stomped forward. “Leave her alone. I don’t care how famous you are; no one talks to my squad that way, especially not when they’re so terribly wrong. This woman next to me is, without a doubt, one of the strongest, most competent people I have ever had the privilege of serving with. If she were my daughter, I would be proud to call her my own. You, sir, are a disgrace to fathers everywhere. Besides, it’s obvious that snake Jorin did it.”

  Werin backed away, not used to people speaking to him that way. In my books, he was never wrong and was the most respected person in the land other than Hammurabi and the king. It was good to see them get something right, especially with the whole sexism angle they had created for him.

  “Just because you had a bad experience with Jorin doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy,” Werin whispered. “He’s had decades of exemplary service since then.”

  “Oh. In that case, where is he?”

  We looked around, but Jorin was nowhere to be found, nor were his two friends.

  “Clearly, they were a team,” Wolf said. “If they were smart, they would have split up so we’d have a hard time catching them.”

  Jackal and Werin immediately looked for tracks. They both found something at the same time and followed it into the woods. I couldn’t see what it was they were following, but I hadn’t read the script. It didn’t really matter, because the clashing of swords was pretty easy to follow. We arrived just in time to see Jorin stab Vartin in the chest. As Vartin slid down a tree, he tossed his dagger with deadly precision straight into Jorin’s eye. I wasn’t sure how they did that without actually killing the actor, but it was awesome.

  I wished Vartin had tossed his dagger into Jorin’s mouth instead. It didn’t seem very believable that he had time to utter a line before he passed. “They took it.”

  “See?” Werin said to Wolf. “Jorin was as dedicated to Garandia as I am.”

  “No . . . no, he’s not,” Alinda whimpered from the bushes nearby. “I had to make tinkle, and my Vartin came with me in case one of you men tried to peek, especially the perverted one in the cat helmet. Just as we were coming back, Jorin came screaming at us with his sword drawn, and my Vartin drew his dirk to protect me . . . and now he’s dead. Dead!” She started to weep.

  All of the men got real uncomfortable and immediately began searching the bushes for the package. It was a very important package, so we were well within our rights to go looking for it. Normally, I was sure one of us would have comforted her, especially since she was very attractive and now single, but, you know, package. Unfortunately, we didn’t find anything, and she was still crying. After a lot of uncomfortable glances between us, Wolf said probably the most important thing ever said in a situation like this.

  “Where is Mr. Plot Device?”

  Everyone looked at Cat. “He was there when I went to sleep. I’ll bet he took it!”

  “Yes!” all of the men said at once. “He must have taken it. Let’s go find him.”

  We immediately all ran off to find him. Clearly, he was the one who had taken the package.

  We followed Werin for a bit, but all the trails he could find eventually went cold. Evidently, the monkey had climbed into a tree, and even Werin’s legendary tracking skills could not follow a trail in a tree.

  “Cat,” Wolf said. “Since you two think so much alike, where would you be if you were him?”

  “A monkey brothel, obviously, or an all-you-can-eat banana bar.”

  “Since neither of those two things is real, where else might you be?”

  The sound of weeping had died down, which made me feel so much better—because I was worried about her, not because I didn’t want to comfort her.

  Cat scrunched his chin in thought for probably the first time. “I’d be back at Harry’s pack, laughing at what I found—or didn’t find—in his underwear.”

  “No wonder you like my daughter so much,” Werin said to Wolf. “In your group, she’s the smart one, by a large margin.”

  Wolf responded with a glare. “You’re not wrong.”

  “Actually,” I said, “I think Cat’s right. Listen.”

  It’s really fun to observe the expressions people have on their faces while they’re focused on listening. Wolf looked like he was trying to solve the final question on Jeopardy!. Werin had diarrhea face. Cat’s face didn’t move at all, and he drooled a little. Jackal . . . had evidently stayed behind to comfort Alinda.

  “Laughter,” Werin said. “Monkey laughter. And it’s coming from back at the camp.”

  We ran back to the camp and found Mr. Plot Device in the middle of a pile of my things. He was laughing hysterically at the pictures in my wallet. I don’t know how he’d gotten it out of my pocket.

  “Stop right there, thief!” Cat said.

  Mr. Plot Device looked around in confusion.

  “I’m talking to you, Mr. Plot Device, if that even is your real name.”

  Mr. Plot Device gave Cat a dirty look and a hand sign that did not need translation.

  “Where’s the package?” Werin said.

  Mr. Plot Device was perplexed by the question. If you’ve never seen a perplexed monkey before, it’s one of the most adorable things you’ll ever see. To cap it off, he shrugged. And after puppies had been forever ruined for me, I was very glad to refill my stock of cute.

  “I’ve got it!” Jackal yelled from the forest. “The package is here.”

  We ran back to find Jackal with the package in one hand and her crossbow in the other. Alinda lay sprawled on the ground.

  “While you four were running away like she had the plague, I decided to check into a few things. Her story was a bit too convenient. Jorin didn’t catch them coming back from a pee. He really did see her take the package.”

  Werin rolled his eyes. “You didn’t figure anything out, girl. You got lucky.”

  Jackal glared at him. “No, Father, I caught the look in her eyes, and so did you, but to throw you off, she immediately started to cry.”

  “I . . . She did.”

  “And then, as you scurried off with your tail between your legs, I reached in to pretend to comfort her, and guess what I found.”

  He nodded and seemed impressed for a second, then covered the look with scorn. “The package.”

  “No,” Cat said. “It was a penis.”

  “You only hang out with this group so you can feel smart, don’t you?” Werin asked.

  Jackal
shook her head. “Actually, Cat’s right. I’m never going to live down saying that, am I?”

  Cat gave her a thumbs-up. “Not as long as I’m still alive.”

  I hadn’t really found Alinda to be all that attractive. I was only being polite. She was just all right, but in a mannish sort of way. I had known the truth subconsciously all along, but my conscious mind hadn’t put it together yet. I thought she might be attractive to other guys, but not me.

  “When I found that she was a bit too happy to see me, I knocked her to the ground,” Jackal said.

  “It was the will of The One,” Alinda said. “He cursed me with masculinity, and I don’t know why.” She started to weep uncontrollably.

  “I think she’s suffered enough,” Werin said. “We have the item. That’s the important thing. We should go.”

  “Seriously?” Jackal said.

  “Look how much she’s crying. She’s obviously suffered enough. I’m in charge here. Let her go.”

  “You men have no defense mechanism for a crying woman, do you?” Jackal said. “I guess it doesn’t matter that this isn’t an actual woman, as long as he looks like one. This should help.” Jackal pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed a little spit on it. She vigorously rubbed Alinda’s face like she was a toddler who’d attacked a bowl of ice cream.

  When she pulled back, Alinda looked nothing like she had before. She went from looking like a passable woman to one of the ugliest men I’d ever seen. “Her” face seemed to get longer and “her” nose much bigger, which I’m sure it was just my imagination.

  “Ferelic, my old nemesis!” Werin said. “I should have known.”

  Ferelic spat at him. “Nemesis? You finally defeat me, and you stoop to calling me that? We’re arch-enemies, and you know it.”

  Werin explained, “Ferelic and I graduated from the Garandian Academy of the Hidden together, in a tie for top of our class. Our rivalry continued throughout our careers, until he decided to leave the service and become a mercenary. I’ve been trying to capture him ever since. He’s been responsible for some of the greatest catastrophes in recent history.”