The Discommodious Wedding

by Kastensmidt, Christopher

  Pushing away Arany lightly but firmly, he ran forward and grabbed Gerard. Gerard struggled against him, managing a few inches of progress with each step. As Oludara fought to halt him, Arany dashed back for his bow. With a fluid movement, she raised the weapon and shot at the shimmer. The light disappeared in a puff, leaving no trace of the form within. Arany let out a sigh and relaxed. Gerard, waist high in the water, stopped his movement.

  Oludara loosed his grip on Gerard and asked Arany, “What do you think happened? Did she leave?”

  Something like a fish with arms jumped from the water and grabbed Gerard at the throat. The two forms disappeared below the water with a splash.

  “Olorun!” yelled Oludara. He plunged his hands into the water but found nothing. He readied himself for a dive.

  “No,” said Arany, “you’ll never keep up.”

  Wildflower ran up beside them, arms waving. “I can follow!” she said. “And I can take one of you with me.”

  “I’ll go,” said Arany.

  “No,” said Oludara. “The spell is broken; I will forget your love no more.”

  Arany raised a hand in protest, but deferred. She was too practical to waste time arguing during a crisis, and Oludara silently thanked her for it.

  “Hurry up,” said Wildflower, kneeling on all fours in the water. “Grab on to me.”

  Oludara grasped her tightly around her neck and chest. Under his arms he could feel a change, as her skin became coarse and tough. A fin rasped along his face as it grew from her back.

  He sucked in a breath as the pink river dolphin dragged him under.

  #

  Lungs bursting, Oludara felt the dolphin jerk upward. They leapt from the water and crashed to the ground, the dolphin form of Wildflower squeaking at the impact. Oludara rolled off her and gasped air into his lungs. Beside him, Wildflower returned to her own form and did the same.

  Oludara regained his breath and rubbed the water from his eyes to find himself in complete darkness. Echoes of dripping water filled the space around them, and he felt around to discover water on all sides of the small patch of dirt on which they rested.

  “Wildflower,” he said, “we have reached an underground cave, and I fear we must navigate through the water. Can you carry me a little farther?”

  She gave a tired nod and transformed back into a dolphin. Oludara fell off the leathery back twice before finally getting the hang of the unusual mount, and they set off along the underground waterway.

  Beneath Oludara, Wildflower turned her dolphin head from side to side and made low clicking sounds. In this fashion, she unerringly located passage after passage. After searching several dead ends, she reached a tunnel which caused her body to tense. She rushed down it and Oludara could soon tell why: the tunnel echoed with distant music, soon followed by a faint glow. The light grew brighter as they raced down the tunnel, which ended in a sumptuous cavern.

  Rough, unrefined gold spotted with sparkling rubies and emeralds formed the walls. Narrow shores rose on the sides and back of the cavern, with a myriad of objects littered upon them: from simple clay pots to golden dishes. The collection favored musical instruments and apparel such as discarded armor, clothes, and boots—all masculine. The objects varied so much in style and wear that Oludara assumed they came not just from different places, but different ages. A glow from the ceiling—Oludara couldn’t discern the source—illuminated everything.

  At the back of the cavern, upon a bed of fine pillows, lay the unmoving body of Gerard van Oost. A woman who could only be Yara lounged near him at the edge of the water and strummed a golden harp. Her human upper half reclined just out of the water, her naked breasts half-submerged and floating. Her lower half was that of a fish, and it swayed back and forth, making perfect ripples in time with the music. Voluminous hair spread around her like a nest, and matched the color of the rubies. Her eyes, in contrast, sparkled the color of the emeralds. Her white skin appeared more European than Brazilian.

  When she spotted Oludara and Wildflower, she struck a discordant note on the harp.

  “What is this?” she shouted. Even shouting, her voice reverberated deep and seductive.

  Yara snapped her fingers and Wildflower transformed back to her true form, dunking both her and Oludara in the process. The two of them swam to shore on one side of the cavern, while Yara picked up a nearby goblet and took a drink.

  “Wildflower,” she said, “how dare you enter my lair. Although—” she swam closer to them and eyed Oludara up and down, “—I must say I like what you bring. Tall, with an onyx skin I’ve not seen for a hundred years, and deep, lush eyes to match. And those muscles!” She stared just below his waist and gave a hungry smile.

  “I am not here to pleasure you,” said Oludara.

  “Really?” she asked. “Are you certain of that?” She swam back to a corner of the cavern and picked up a hollowed out turtle shell. “I’d be remiss if I didn’t entertain you. One from Africa probably doesn’t care for the harp. But this...” she picked up a handful of grape-sized conchs and cascaded them into the shell, “might be more to your pleasure.”

  Yara shook the turtle shell with a deliberate rhythm. She sang with the swish of the shells, in the same incomprehensible tongue as before. Her torso rocked from side to side as she swam ever closer.

  Visions of Ketu, Oludara’s homeland, filled his mind. He forgot why he had come to Brazil, and longed for home. Yara swam to his feet and motioned for him to jump in. He reached down to her.

  “Oludara!” said Wildflower, her voice an angry child’s tantrum. “Remember Arany!”

  Oludara’s eyes focused. He grabbed Yara by the neck and pulled her up from the water.

  “Yes, Wildflower,” said Oludara, “I swore to my love I would not forget. Your enchantment is broken, Yara, your spells will work on me no more.”

  Yara wiggled in his grip, but he held firm.

  “I am more than a simple charmer,” she said with venom in her voice, “and you are nothing but a toad!”

  With a glowing finger, she reached out and touched his chest. When she made contact, however, the amulet around his neck crackled and she pulled back in pain.

  Without warning, Yara turned into an eel and fell from Oludara’s grip. He grasped down for her, but his fingers closed just behind her. She slithered through the water to Gerard’s side and returned to her womanly form.

  “Do not dare touch me again,” she said. “And if you think a pajé’s trick amulet will save you, you’re mistaken!” She turned to Gerard and said, “Wake, my dear.”

  Gerard sat up and blinked his eyes. “Yes, my love,” he said.

  Yara laid back and retrieved her goblet. With her other hand, she pointed to Oludara. “Kill that man!” she commanded.

  Gerard stood and unsheathed his rapier. He strode around the cavern toward Oludara.

  “Gerard,” shouted Oludara, “it is I, Oludara!”

  Gerard ran at him full bore. Oludara unsheathed his ivory knife and used it to parry Gerard’s first thrust. Although Gerard’s over-aggressive lunge left his side open, Oludara did not attack.

  “Wildflower,” he said, “to my disadvantage, I cannot strike. Can you not do something?”

  “I can’t transform!” she said. “Yara has negated my power.”

  Yara laughed and took a drink from her goblet.

  Oludara dodged another of Gerard’s thrusts. Gerard had been trained in swordplay by Bolognese masters, but much to Oludara’s relief, he attacked clumsily, not at all like his usual, precise self—most likely, an effect of the enchantment.

  A fist-sized ruby spun through the air and struck Gerard in the head. He rubbed the spot and turned to where Wildflower stood with a smug look on her face. Oludara used the distraction to flip behind Gerard and wallop the back of his head with the knife butt. Gerard collapsed without a sound.

  Yara gasped, choking on her drink. She set down the goblet and lay back.

  “Perhaps we can come to an under
standing,” she said, “unless you would like to continue our game?”

  Her skin turned green and scaly. In seconds, she transformed into a sea serpent with foot-long fangs. Just as quickly, she returned to her original form.

  “That is why I came,” said Oludara, “to speak.” He sheathed his knife and sat cross-legged on the ground.

  “Only to speak?” she asked. “If you wish to possess me, you need only ask.” Her mouth curved into a sensual, inviting smile.

  “I have no wish to be your lover,” he said. He pointed to the discarded clothing and armor in the cave. “I can see what happens to them.”

  “I can make an exception,” she said.

  “The offer is tempting, but I fear my companion’s Protestant beliefs are beginning to affect me. I save myself for my true love.”

  “How tedious,” replied Yara. “But if you didn’t come here for me, then you must have come for my jewels.”

  “The white men are the merchants, who trade even human lives for gold. I know, for I myself was sold in this way. But for me, these treasures have little worth. My people have a saying, ‘Desire for money is the father of disgrace.’ ”

  “If you seek neither my caress nor my jewels, then you surely came here for my magic.”

  “I did indeed come for a boon,” said Oludara, “a magic which will make Curooper fall in love with Wildflower.”

  “Make Curooper fall in love with Wildflower?” She laughed in her sumptuous voice. “That would be entertaining. But charming Curooper is no small magic.” She paused. “Since you intrigue me, I offer you this: leave your companion with me, and the spell is yours.”

  “I will never sell a man, especially one so dear to my heart. If there is nothing else you desire in trade, I will leave with him and find another way to defeat my enemy.”

  “Then go.”

  “No!” shrilled Wildflower. “Please, you are the only one who can help us, Yara.”

  “Letting the fat one go is favor enough,” said Yara. “Leave before you anger me.”

  Wildflower fell to her knees. “Give us the charm, and I will do anything.”

  Yara stared hard at Wildflower. “Would you be my servant?” she asked.

  “Yes, but only if I may still see my love, Curooper.”

  “Then the bargain is this: you will spend every other moon here with me, doing whatever I require. The other moons you may spend with Curooper, if any magic is indeed powerful enough to make him love one such as you.”

  “Oh, thank you!”

  “Leave my realm now, both of you. I will prepare your charm and deliver it to you above. No one may witness the secrets of my power and live.”

  Oludara bowed.

  “And don’t forget to take your friend,” said Yara. “He reeks of garlic.”

  #

  Coughing, Gerard snapped out of his trance. Yandir stood over him, blowing smoke into his face from a bamboo tube.

  Gerard sat up and flailed his arms. “Get those demonic fumes out of my face!” he said. Then he burped, launching a blast of hot air putrefied by old garlic.

  “Phew!” said Wildflower, waving a hand in front of her nose.

  Oludara, Arany, and several others stood around Gerard with expectant faces. “How did we return to the village?” he asked.

  “We walked,” replied Oludara. “You we carried stumbling along, wasting what little time we had to spare.”

  “Perhaps you should have worn an amulet,” said Yandir, holding up his chin.

  “I’ll not bind myself to heathen sorcery,” said Gerard.

  “Please, Gerard,” said Oludara, “we have no time to argue. With Wildflower’s help, I attained from Yara a crown of leaves enchanted by her magic. If we place it upon Curooper’s head, he will fall in love with the first woman he sees.” Oludara held up a finely woven garland for Gerard’s inspection.

  “More magic,” Gerard said with a scowl. “What happened to winning the day with might and wit?”

  “A beast immortal like Curooper requires more than might to dissuade from his path,” said Yandir.

  “Then what’s your plan for putting the garland on his head?” asked Gerard. “Is your sorcery of any assistance there?”

  Yandir shook his head.

  “I can ask him to put on the crown,” said Arany. “He would do that for me.”

  “No,” said Oludara. “You would almost certainly be the first woman he sees. In fact, we cannot allow him to come near the village; he could spot any woman here and fall in love. Gerard and I must go alone with Wildflower. We will find Curooper in the woods and separate him from the jaguars. We cannot handle all of them at once.”

  “And how would we do that?” asked Gerard.

  “What do jaguars fear?” asked Oludara.

  “Nothing,” said Arany. “The jaguar is prey to none, and those two were raised by Curooper himself. They are the most powerful in the land.”

  “Hmm,” said Oludara. “Then what do they desire?”

  #

  A capybara, wailing miserably, dragged itself through the forest on its two front legs. Its back legs trailed uselessly behind.

  Two jaguars—one black and one yellow—appeared nearby, searching for the source of the commotion. They crept in, bodies low, but relaxed when they spotted the prey. They glanced at each other, as if not believing their luck. The capybara wailed louder and thrashed ahead.

  The jaguars strolled behind it leisurely, drawing out the beast’s suffering. When they came within a few paces of the capybara, the giant rodent turned toward them with an anguished expression. Then it transformed into a blond-haired child with an unsightly nose.

  “Got you!” said Wildflower.

  A net jerked up under the jaguars and hoisted them toward the canopy above.

  Oludara walked into the clearing; Gerard dusted his hands and followed closely behind. They looked up to examine their handiwork.

  “That worked easily enough,” said Gerard.

  “Yes,” agreed Oludara. “I was worried the trap would fail, and we would have to fight the beasts.”

  Above them, razor-sharp claws poked out from the bottom of the net.

  “Surely they can’t...” said Gerard, backing away.

  The net snapped, and the two jaguars crashed to the ground in a pile of skin and muscle. Oludara unsheathed his ivory dagger and Gerard whipped out his rapier. The jaguars untangled themselves and stood up, rage in their eyes. The black one strode toward Gerard and the yellow one toward Oludara.

  “Be careful!” said Wildflower, hiding in a bush behind them. “They can crush a skull in their jaws!”

  “Pleasant image,” said Gerard.

  The black jaguar reared up and came at him. Gerard made a half lunge, stabbing for the beast’s face. The jaguar, however, showed its bluff when it dove under the blade. Its pounce caught Gerard in the knees and sent the two rolling.

  Oludara spotted the movement from the corner of this eye.

  “Gerard!” he yelled.

  The yellow jaguar used the distraction to attack, leaping for Oludara’s head. Oludara dodged right and slashed out with his blade. He scored a nick on the beast’s front leg. The jaguar turned and roared.

  From out of the bushes, a third jaguar appeared and pounced on the beast’s back.

  “Wildflower,” said Oludara, “do not fight the beast in its own form.”

  The true jaguar rolled and threw off Wildflower, then lunged and bit her on the shoulder. She yelped.

  Oludara closed in, searching for an opening, but the two beasts danced with their attacks and left no opportunity to strike.

  “Wildflower,” said Oludara, “change to a porcupine!”

  With a powerful swipe, the jaguar slapped Wildflower to the ground.

  “Trust me!” shouted Oludara.

  The jaguar leapt for a death blow, its maw aimed at her skull. As the jaw bit down, Wildflower transformed into a porcupine.

  The jaguar, mouth filled with quills, let
out a high-pitched half-roar, half-scream. In rage, it struck with its front paw, only to dislodge another set of quills into its skin. It squealed a sickly yelp and ran off on three legs.

  Oludara ran to the fallen girl-turned-porcupine. He reached down to grab her but thought better.

  “Change back,” he ordered.

  Wildflower returned to her true from. Cuts covered her arms and face, but were nothing compared to the awful bite on her shoulder.

  “Wildflower, are you all right?”

  Between gasps, she squeaked out, “I’ll live.”

  “Stay here, I must help Gerard.”

  Oludara spotted his companion on the other side of the clearing. The jaguar balanced on its back legs while Gerard, behind it, pulled the scruff of its neck with both hands, his stout arms bulging under the strain.

  “Gerard,” said Oludara, running toward him, “what are you doing?”

  “An old cat trick I learned as a child,” he said. “But if you don’t mind, could you please stop talking and tie this animal up?”

  #

  Gerard and Oludara arrived at a sunlit clearing to discover Curooper waking from a nap. They dropped behind some scrub to watch and plan their attack. Wildflower, bandaged and resting, had stayed behind with the bound jaguar.

  Curooper stretched himself up from where he had lain against the sleeping boar. He scratched his scalp and whistled, calling for his jaguars. When they didn’t appear, he placed his hands on his hips and looked around. His boar remained asleep.

  “We must strike now,” said Gerard. “He has awoken, and is suspicious.”

  “Yes,” said Oludara, “we have no time for a more elaborate plan.”

  “So what should we do?”

  “First we should deal with the boar.”

  “And how do you propose that?”

  “Much like the warthog of Africa, its anger can be used against it.”

  Oludara walked into the clearing. He stood with a tree to his back and notched an arrow in his bow. He sent a shaft flying into the boar’s haunches. It jumped up and spun around, huffing. Oludara waved at it and smiled. The beast charged.