He moved around the boat with ease, hit a few wooden levers, and then settled down to the middle of the deck. He stroked another lever and a hood popped open. From inside, he lifted out green onion-like plants, some mushrooms, and a bottle of yellow liquid that Zach figured was cooking oil.
He chopped the onion and mushrooms with a large knife and tossed them with the oil in a wooden bowl. Two long, thin sticks appeared from under a roaster, and Throg struck them on a piece of tar paper. The matches ignited, and he lit the oven, then pulled a black iron pan from his satchel and poured the mixture into the skillet.
Zach moved closer and spotted a Bunsen burner inside the compartment beneath the stove. "This is amazing!"
Throg pointed to the cooker as he stirred the ingredients. "I made the thing myself. The pilot underneath is encased in metal."
He cracked the eggs and beat them in the same wooden bowl as the onion mix, added some spices, and spilled the eggs into the hissing iron. The aroma of sizzling green onions, mushrooms, and eggs pervaded the air around them.
Zach's stomach rumbled like a blender chopping ice cubes.
Within a few minutes, Zach enjoyed some of the most succulent eggs he'd ever put on his tongue, and he wolfed them down. They were fluffy and salty. "This is delicious, Throg. Thank you."
"Aye, truffle oil is in season, and Pegasi eggs with radenook green onions and chipsami mushrooms is one of the best meals you can fix on the road." Throg devoured his eggs.
The bottomless skillet of cloud-like Pegasi eggs invited Zach to gorge until he almost burst. He was so stuffed upon finishing, he didn't care where they were or why. He gently put down the warm pan and rolled over to his side with a half-joking, half-serious moan.
"Aye, young Zach, happens frequently to first-timers." Zach's companion chuckled as he munched away on the delicious food.
Such a contrast. Zach lay bloated, yet he giggled at the sky. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy.
"Say now, did ye know the runes yer puttin' on that are for fertility?" Cumber pulled Stuart to the side and whispered into his ear, "Ye don't want the lassies to catch you with that on yer chest, do ya? It'd be devilishly embarrassin' for ya."
"Oh, no, no, Cumber, this is the Triforce. You know, from The Legend of Zelda? Trust me, this is really hip where we're from." Stuart sketched the sigil onto the middle of his leather shirt with a piece of charcoal.
"Come on now, laddie. Ye can't possibly be serious about tha' bein' stylish!"
"Whatever. I'm telling you, this is über rad where I'm from. If I'm going to be a warrior, I want the Triforce with me."
Stuart decided he was finished explaining his reasoning to someone he'd met not four hours ago. Cumber's garb was much nicer than any of his new clothes, but Stuart wasn't about to complain. Where Cumber had a cloak, Stuart now had the Triforce. He'd never felt cooler.
He stood up and sauntered away from a mumbling Cumber, displaying the three triangles over his chest. Stuart returned to the others, but stopped short and stared down at the charcoal drawing. Riley was one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen, but he doubted she knew what the Triforce was. Maybe I do look stupid. He sighed and drifted away from the fire where they sat.
As he walked, Stuart considered his situation. He and the other kids had been brought here from their world—something every anime he was aware of had in common—and were now called 'Kin.' They had to save the world from an ancient evil, too, and were armored heroes. Heck, he'd even changed. Not only had he aged, but....
He gazed at his reflection in a water barrel, rubbed his neck and jaw, and smiled. The face in the water was tougher, meaner, and an overall improvement. When he'd passed through the portal, Stuart had gained a little weight. Before, he'd been stick-pole thin with pockmarks on his cheeks, but now everything fit and he boasted a smooth complexion.
He grinned and flexed one of his arms. Muscles bulged. He continued along and wondered if his new physique would help him achieve his dream of being like a ninja. Silently, he made a wager with himself: I bet I could creep past those guards and out of sight without anyone noticing me.
He slipped off to explore the rest of the camp. No one followed. Darting in and out of the shadows, he found the activities around the encampment much more interesting than the boring campfire and the monotonous old Presage. A bard strummed a stringed turtle shell as he sang to a small crowd. A handful of soldiers crouched and rolled dice. A few archers shot at targets. Not far off, another pair spoke as they whetted their axe blades.
He stopped at a busy group of boisterous troops and peered through the crowd to find out what kept their attention. Two soldiers stood in a circle across from each other, holding glowing joysticks in their hands. Closer to the middle of the ring were a pair of enormous, dazzling holograms. A muscle-bound warrior leered at an imposing Minotaur.
Stuart knew what a Minotaur was from the game, God of War. Kratos had run into them more than once. The Minotaur reared its bullish head as it swayed a huge axe in its hands, and the warrior across from it waved a large sword. The combatants rushed forward and met with a crash.
The soldiers wielding the joysticks jerked back and forth, shouting expletives as they twisted and turned. One wrong move could end the match.
The holographic warrior blocked an overhand swing with his buckler and then rolled under a blow from the Minotaur's fist. The crowd of battle-hardened soldiers surrounding the two players cheered.
Stuart grinned. The holograms seemed to be sweating and wheezing, as if the creatures fought in mortal combat. "I've never seen anything like this!" he murmured to no one.
The Minotaur caught the panting fighter with a swift kick to the ribcage. A wrenching sound, similar to a series of branches breaking, cracked through the air. The fighter grimaced and stumbled.
The Minotaur stalked the warrior in the circle as the man limped in retreat, trying to force the creature off by brandishing his sword whenever the Minotaur came too close. The feint of swinging his blade back and forth worked for a time, but the holographic soldier grew weary and his poorly aimed thrusts slowed.
A knight cried out from the crowd, "Finish him!"
"Let's go now, Boozer. Get on with the stroke of grace," another man shouted from beside Stuart.
Finally, the menacing Minotaur swung its battleaxe with such fury that it shattered the warrior's blade of steel and drove right through to his chest. The warrior collapsed to the ground, and the soldier operating him groaned. The battle finished and both holograms faded away.
Boozer rambled inside the ring, his joystick raised to the sky amid a chorus of cheers and boos. He was a burly man with stringy red hair and a short, knotted beard. Crow's feet wrinkled around the corners of his eyes when he grinned.
Boozer goaded, "Ye cannot tangle with the Minotaur and live to tell about it, can ya, Kron?"
"Ah, double dung, Booz. Ya cheated after ye chose the old battleaxe anyway," pouted Kron in disgust.
"Oh, I did now, righty. And ya managed to sneak in the li'l' buckler w'out me knowin', but that's fine?" Boozer shrugged and chuckled.
Stuart stood mesmerized with delight. "Bravo, bravo," he shouted and clapped his hands.
"And so," Boozer said, "we have one of the fabled Kin here cheering on the ol' Minotaur, now do we? In awe of the skills of the Boozer, are ye?" His eyes befell the mark on Stuart's chest. "Wha' is tha'? The rune of fertility?"
"It's the Triforce," Stuart corrected. "Besides, I'm more impressed with the graphics. I'm a bit of a wiz at these games where I'm from. I bet I offer you a worthy challenge."
He just wanted a crack at playing. While he'd watched the other two play, he'd spied multiple ways the knight could have won. It was a matter of skill, of seeing the small things. He knew he was one of those irritating kids who were unnaturally good at all the new video games. That's all I'm good at. That and my skateboard.
A soldier standing next to Boozer said, "Now, young man, the resourcefulness of the Kin is well
-known, but the Boozer here is undefeated in Dire Conflict."
"Dire Conflict is the game, huh? Well, Boozy, how would you like to take on a Kin and test what ya got?" Stuart walked toward him.
Boozer gaped at him with amazement. He smiled and then frowned. "Hmm, ye have never played Dire Conflict, and ye think you can whoop up on the Boozer, eh? Why, do ye realize if they included Dire Conflict at the games in Fornax, which they dang righ' should, I'd be grand champion, laddie?"
Stuart shrugged one shoulder. "Well, then this should be a global... er, universal... tournament. I happen to rule the roost back home. The Triforce doesn't lie." He grinned and put his hands on his hips.
The crowd came closer. A few troops muttered to one another. Stuart heard the word 'Kin' tossed around and he smiled. Maybe some of these men would chant his name when he outpaced Boozer. This would even top the arcades in his neighborhood.
"Let the Kin give the game a whirl agains' ya," yelled out one of the soldiers.
Several soldiers cried, "Yeah!"
"Come on, Boozer," said his previous opponent, Kron.
"Alas, my dear Kin, ye will face the wrath of the Minotaur." Boozer winked and grinned. "Give the people wha' they wan'—tha's my motto."
"All right!" yelped Stuart. Not every day did he fight against someone on another planet with a video game. Now he really could boast he was the best when he returned home.
Energy burst throughout their vicinity as dozens of excited armored men came forward to watch the match. The chilly air warmed with the soldiers' proximity.
Someone shouted, "Bet you ten pints of Vixen blueberry ale the Kin wins!"
"I'll take tha' bet," said another.
Kron came to Stuart's side and whispered into his ear, "The buttons on the bottom are defensive blocks, and the ones on the top are offensive strikes. If ye hold the top lef' and bottom lef' buttons down together, this be your master strike. Use this sparingly, as it will sap yer energy. The stick itself pretty much controls the warrior's body. There's more, but ye will have to make do with tha'." He broke free of Stuart and disappeared into the crowd. His black-haired head bobbed away.
Another trooper came up to Stuart, gave him a pat on the back, and encouraged him. "Give this the old schoolboy try now, sonny."
Several other pats and nods followed, until one of the warriors thrust the joystick into his hand. Stuart smirked. The joystick was like a part of him, and no one could take that away now.
A wall of soldiers formed another large circle around them. A competitive Boozer replaced the jolly one as he shot a menacing glare at Stuart, who stared him down cold. Thick tension zapped between the two of them. Stuart refused to glance away from Boozer, even for a second. Everything got quiet.
"Now let's engage in Dire Conflict," boomed a soldier. Somehow this event had become an official match.
Stuart's joystick began to vibrate and a blue glow emanated from the sides. He felt a rush of pure adrenaline course through him. A holographic console materialized in front of him.
"Pick the battleaxe," hollered out a voice from the crowd.
"The spear. Take the spear," declared another.
As he gazed down at the console, Stuart realized they were pointing out his choices. Caricatures of several armaments floated on top. Underneath each weapon was a colorful button. On the bottom of the console were the words: "Choose two weapons for your Dire Conflict."
The double-edged sword looked too good to turn down. But he also knew Kron had just lost to the Minotaur bearing the same blade. He hit a button with an arrow pointing down, and another set of weapons appeared. One of the names caught his eye. "The Sword of Ariadne" was written under a long blade with a red handle.
Stuart smiled. Greek mythology was one of his favorite subjects. Kratos might have demolished the Minotaur in God of War, but real folklore was better than that. The Minotaur had been a recent reading of his, and the sword Theseus used to slay the Minotaur was given to him by Ariadne. He was sure of it.
He hit the button underneath, forgetting the image was holographic, and the sword vanished from the console when his finger passed through where the icon had been. He continued to scan the choices and settled on a large chain titled, "Battle Chain." The console dematerialized after his selection.
His warrior appeared, standing tall while twirling the battle chain and holding the saber high over its head. His muscles rippled with each twirl, and the rich, burgundy-colored armor he wore cast a regal aura. The sword of Ariadne glistened like a beacon in the dark night.
Across the way, Boozer completed his weapon check on the console and the Minotaur emerged straight from the ground. A mixed reaction of boos and cheers again riled the men.
"Now you're in fer death," Boozer shouted and chortled.
The bull-headed monster charged the warrior, battleaxe in tow. Stuart, operating on instinct, jerked his joystick to the right, and the Minotaur ran directly into the crowd, surprising a few of the soldiers even though it was a holograph.
"Harrumph," Boozer blurted.
Stuart was engrossed in the game now, armed with years of determined practice from his own video games back home. Adrenaline sped through him and his heart pounded.
The battle intensified.
The Minotaur once again leapt at the warrior, and Stuart pushed his joystick down while he flicked the left "up" button in a circular fashion. It worked to perfection.
The battle chain whipped cleanly through the air as the warrior ducked at the same time. The Minotaur missed with the swing of his axe, and the chain wrapped violently around its legs.
Stuart thrust the joystick forward while he leaned on the left button. The Minotaur was ripped right off its feet and came thundering down with a loud crack. The warrior cast the Minotaur a stony glare.
Wild cheers resonated from the crowd as Stuart continued to push the joystick forward, the warrior dragging the Minotaur around the circle amid the roaring soldiers. Then he made the warrior stop and raise the sword of Ariadne high over his head. The blade dropped, preparing to end the match.
Instead of striking true, however, the holographic blade passed right through the Minotaur. The bull-headed brute rose from the ground, its earthy tones now much darker. Rage overtook the Minotaur as the beast forged past the warrior hologram.
A stunned gasp emitted from the crowd as Boozer clicked at his joystick, bewildered. For an instant, no one moved.
"It's come alive. The dang Minotaur is alive!" one of the soldiers shouted.
The Minotaur marched toward Stuart. Shock kept him frozen to the spot. He gaped at the creature, his eyes wide.
It stopped a moment and let out a tremendous screech as it raised its ferocious head to the sky. Several of the soldiers scattered. Boozer charged at Stuart, grabbed him by the collar, and shoved him backward.
"Get runnin', Kin. He is looking for ya, laddie. Now go for it. Dash back to Presage!" he yelled.
The Minotaur leapt toward Boozer, who had turned his head just in time, lifting his sword up in front of the axe. The blade shattered on impact and the blow knocked Boozer to the mud. Other soldiers swarmed the Minotaur amidst yells and battle cries as Stuart charged back to the campfire.
The Kin sat around the campfire, content with the warmth of the flames and tasty tea as they discussed their new world. Vilaborg returned with a pair of soldiers and a cook carrying a large black pot. Max watched as Stuart slipped away from the group. He frowned and caught the eye of Presage, who grinned and winked at him before resuming his conversation with Vilaborg.
A stomach-rumbling aroma filled the air as the cook lifted the lid off the pot. Max touched his gut as his mouth watered.
"I figured you would all be hungry for real food," Vilaborg said. "This is what I call summer stew. We rarely eat anything other than dry bread and chud when we're on the road. Anyhow, our reconnoiters found an overgrown, unkempt garden about a mile east from here, so good old Lars came up with enough to make stew."
&n
bsp; Lars thrust the black pot down, his soiled chef's hat falling off in the process. Ladle in hand, he began filling large wooden bowls and handed them out. The Kin stood in an orderly line.
How nice to have something hot to eat, Max thought. The chud he'd devoured was wearing off.
Cumber returned with a basket covered with cloth. "Another treat. Some toasty bread for ye." He pulled the twill off the steaming carton.
No butter, but the heated bread and stew made up for its absence. They all plunged into their bowls. Max smacked his lips. Garlic and onion mixed with other flavors, like a strange melon or orange and creamy bits of rice-like grains.
Lars clapped his hands together. "Ye know the chow is good when no one is speaking."
Max dunked his bread into the dish. The mix of baby carrots, spinach, corn, and mushrooms in rich gravy grew addicting, and he scarfed the meal down. The heel was flavored like sourdough bread, but warm. Small chunks of dried chud had been baked into the loaf.
He finished the stew and wiped his bowl clean with a hunk of bread. When done, he strode over to a bin Lars had set up, deposited the saucer, and returned to the fire.
A sudden stabbing pain in his crown doubled him over. He placed his fingers on his temples as the head rush spun into a brain freeze.
Riley dashed to his side. "Max. Max!"
Presage glided over, patting his back. "It will pass. Hold on a little longer, Max, just a minute."
Max sensed satisfaction in Presage's tone. The pain forced him to close his eyes, and the image of a man materialized. The blurred countenance had a narrow jaw and large ears; his eyes were shut, and the lips emitted a groan as he attempted to speak. The face dissipated, taking the discomfort along. Max's eyes fluttered open. Everyone had gathered around him.
Presage smiled. "Are you all right now, son?"
"Yeah, yes. What was that?" Max held his groggy head.
"Did you see anything?" Presage's brow arched.
"Yes. I mean, I think so. I saw the face of a man, but only for a second. He tried to say something."
The Silver Sphere Page 7