Aurora Abroad

by Aron Lewes

  Aurora ignored Lyric’s nonsense and went to make an inquiry. At the edge of a dirt road, she approached a pig in a dress. “Um, excuse me?”

  “Yes, dear?” The lady pig turned to Aurora.

  A bit reluctantly, Aurora spoke. “I was just wondering if, uh... if there was someplace to get a bite to eat around here.”

  Lyric interjected, “A vegetarian meal! Because we don’t eat meat... and certainly not pork... and something more edible than slop, if you please. If you can think of something cheap, that would also be nice, because we’re a little short on money at the moment. And we need someplace to stay, by the way. Overnight.”

  As always, Aurora wished he would keep his mouth shut.

  “Oh! Well, dears...” The pig glanced over her shoulder, “You can stay in one of St. John’s huts. He won’t charge you. We don’t charge for anything here. We’re a very communal village, and we love visitors!” Her beady black eyes fell on Lyric. “As for a bite to eat, I can make you a little basket and have it brought over for you. How does that sound?”

  “That would be SO nice!” Aurora exclaimed. “But I don’t want to put you out...”

  The lady pig laid a hoof hand on Aurora’s wrist. “Oh, honey, it’s no trouble! If there’s anything you need, just ask for Laurie. As long as you’re here, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

  “Wow. That’s really nice.” Aurora turned to Lyric for affirmation, but he stopped paying attention. With his mouth hanging open, he was watching a couple of piglets playing cricket. “Isn’t that nice of her, Lyric?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sure. Sure.” Lyric nodded.

  Aurora rolled her eyes. She forgot who she was talking to. As an emperor, he was used to people waiting on him hand and foot. Random acts of kindness probably didn’t leave much of an impression on him. “If there’s anything we can do for you in return...”

  The pig shook her head. “No! Of course not! If I can help you in any way, that’ll make me happy. I’ll go prepare the basket right now. Go ahead and talk to St. John about the hut. I’m sure he won’t mind.” She pointed to St. John, an old pig with a thatch of wiry white hair.

  “Okay, thanks! Come on, Lyric.”

  As they headed toward St. John, Lyric quipped, “I thought you’d make a pig’s ear of that, but you handled yourself quite well.”

  “Uh... thanks.”

  “I hope she stuffs that basket to the brim, because I could eat like a pig right now.”

  Aurora clenched her fists in frustration. They were getting closer to St. John; she hoped he didn’t overhear any of Lyric’s puns. “Will you stop with the pig jokes?! You’re not as clever as you think you are!”

  “Alright, alright. But you have to admit, the walking pig thing is more than a bit strange.”

  “Of course it’s strange! But it’s better than talking bears, isn’t it?”

  “Ahhh. Another good point.”

  “Anyway... I’ll go talk to St. John. If I let you come with me, you might say something to upset him.”

  “Alright, fine. Do what you want, oh ye of little faith. Must you always treat me like a child, though? I find it very offensive, you know? I think you forget that I’m an emperor, and I take exception to the fact that you—”

  Lyric babbled on, not realizing that Aurora had already left him. When she returned, he didn’t look happy.

  “St. John said we could stay in that hut over there.” She pointed to a tiny straw hut behind Lyric. He turned around to have a look at it.

  “That hut?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Only that hut?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But it’s a little, ehhhh... smallish, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I guess. It’s definitely not a palace, but he’s letting us stay there for free, so you can’t complain.”

  “No, I’m not complaining. I’m not complaining in the least,” Lyric corrected her. He stroked his chin as he contemplated their sleeping arrangements. “We’ll have to get quite cozy with one another, won’t we?”

  “It’s not that small, Lyric! I think it‘s bigger on the inside that it looks on the outside. Come on... I’ll show you.” Aurora brushed past him and headed toward the hut. She opened the door with the key that St. John gave her. The doorway was so tiny, she had to duck down and sidle her way through. When she saw that the interior actually looked smaller than the exterior, she grimaced. “On second thought...”

  Lyric got down on his knees and crawled through the narrow doorway. “I was right and you were wrong. Admit it.”

  “Um...” When Aurora sat down, she realized there was just enough space for the two of them to sit comfortably, let alone lie down and sleep.

  “I guess the pigs don’t need much space, do they?” He reached up and plucked a piece of straw from the roof.

  “Hey! Don’t do that!”

  He tossed the piece of straw at Aurora. “This place is falling apart! What if it collapses in the night?”

  “Then we’d be buried in a pile of hay. I don’t think it would be that big of a deal.” Aurora crossed her arms and sighed. “I’m more concerned about how closely we’re going to have to... you know...”

  “Sleep beside each other?” Lyric finished with a grin. “Oh well. Just think of it as your dream come true.”

  “Your dream come true is more like it!”

  “Possibly.” Lyric sprawled across the floor of the hut; when he did, his head was nearly touching Aurora’s lap. “I’m not afraid to own up to a fantasy or two.”

  “A fantasy or two?” Aurora repeated, not amused. “You’ve been having fantasies about me?!”

  “Perhaps... one or two. Nothing too shocking.” After he made his confession, Lyric yawned—as if the topic didn’t phase him in the least. “Don’t flatter yourself, though. Men have fantasies all the time. We’re wired to have fantasies.”

  “Trust me, I’m not flattered.” Aurora gave him a little shove before lying on the ground beside him. They were close, but not as uncomfortably as she might have imagined.

  All of a sudden, Lyric reached out and tucked a strand of Aurora’s hair behind her ear. When his finger brushed against the top of her ear, she shuddered. “I really am sorry about your aunt.”

  “Oh...” She was so distracted by their bickering, she forgot her reason for being sad.

  “Her name was Molly, wasn’t it? I wish I could have met her.”

  “Ohh...” For once, Aurora couldn’t think of anything clever to say. Whenever Lyric started sounding sincere, her tongue was tied. It was easy to tease him, but it was impossible to react to his kindness.

  “If there’s anything I can do to help you, I—”

  “WOLF!”

  Lyric got up so fast, his head nearly went through the straw roof. “What? What was that?”

  “I have no idea.” Aurora shrugged a shoulder.

  “WOLF! HE’S COMING! HE’S ON HIS WAY HERE!”

  Lyric shook his head. “Um, is this something we should be concerned about?”

  “I don’t know. Let me have a look.” Aurora crawled outside to see what all the commotion was about. A young pig in a sailor’s cap was standing in the middle of the square, and the other pigs were scrambling to get to their houses.

  “A WOLF! A WOLF IS HERE!” The young pig’s gaze met Aurora’s, and she could have sworn he was smirking. But it was impossible to know for sure—she wasn’t an expert in the expressions of humanoid hogs.

  Lyric poked his head out the door. He grabbed Aurora’s arm and dragged her back inside. “You heard the man! Get back in here!”

  Aurora shook him off. “Wait a sec... watch.”

  St. John was approaching the pig in the sailor’s cap. He raised his cane over the young pig’s head and brought it down on him. The wallop must have left him seeing stars. “Joseph, what did I tell you?!”

  Joseph took off his crushed sailor’s cap and rubbed his head. “Owww... grandpa!”

  “What did I tell
you?!”

  Joseph made a noise that sounded partly like a chuckle, and partly like an oink. “Um... I dunno, Grandpa.”

  St. John started to raise his cane again, but when he saw the look of horror on his grandson’s face, he changed his mind. “DON’T’ LIE WHEN YOU’RE ON LOOKOUT! You have to take it seriously. Are you proud of all the panic you’ve caused?”

  Joseph chortled into his hoofed hand. Aurora thought he needed another whack on the head, because he obviously wasn’t taking the reprimand seriously.

  “You can’t keep doing this, Joseph! What if someone gets hurt because of something you said, huh? It’s not funny!”

  Deciding their quarrel was no longer any of her business, Aurora retreated into the hut. “I guess it was a false alarm.”

  “Obviously.” Lyric decided to make himself comfortable again. He lay on his side and motioned for Aurora to join him on the ground, but she didn’t accept the invitation. “If he didn’t walk and talk, I’d have that little twerp for breakfast. Literally.” He sighed. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a nice, juicy ham...”

  As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. When Aurora opened it, she found herself staring into the eyes of a young girl.

  A young human girl.

  Without uttering a word, the girl held out a basket to Aurora, who accepted the proffered gift with a smile.

  “Oh... hello. Is this from Laurie?”

  The little girl responded with a nod.

  “You be sure to tell her I said thank you, okay?”

  The little girl nodded again.

  “And... what’s your name?”

  The girl didn’t respond. She turned around and took off running, her red pigtails soaring behind her.

  “Okay. That was strange.” Aurora turned around and laid the basket on Lyric’s lap. “Why didn’t she say anything?”

  “What does it matter?” Lyric reached into the basket and started stuffing his mouth with crackers and cheese. “This village is overflowing with oddities, if you haven’t noticed. If you tried to make sense of it, you’d probably lose your mind.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Aurora agreed, pulling an apple from the basket. Before she took a bite, she suddenly remembered Medea’s penchant for poisonous apples. With a shudder, she pitched the apple over her shoulder.

  “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, how I wish I was home right now!” Lyric whined. “We’d be having roast and pasta and salmon and... and whatever you wanted!”

  “Whatever I wanted?” Aurora repeated. “That sounds like an invitation.”

  Lyric pursed his lips. “Perhaps.”

  After they finished eating, Lyric and Aurora lied on the ground, awkwardly facing each other’s direction. When night descended, the situation became a little less awkward. As dark as it was, she could hardly see his face.

  “I hope Noxor’s alright,” she said with a sigh. “Do you think he’s okay? If I was him, I wouldn’t want to sleep in the woods. There really are wolves out there! I almost got eaten by one!”

  Lyric changed the subject. “Oh, how pretty.”

  “Huh?”

  “Your eyes,” he said. “They twinkle in the dark.”

  Was that a compliment? Whatever it was, it made her brain a muddled mess. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Lyric. Sometimes she hated him, but sometimes—

  “Goodnight,” Lyric whispered, rolling over to face the wall. “Though I highly doubt I’ll be able to sleep on the ground like this. This is worse than Cydney’s attic. I know I’ve said it before, but I’m used to fluffy pillows and downy comforters and—”

  “Pooka Bear,” Aurora added with a chuckle.

  “Right. And Pooka Bear. You just love to tease me about that, don’t you?”

  “Well, I still can’t think of any grown men who sleep with stuffed bears. I mean, at your age...”

  “There’s nothing wrong with it! When I don’t have a woman in my bed, Pooka is a second-rate substitute! And I usually DO have a woman in my bed, for your information! You might not fancy me, but there are plenty of women that do! Most women can’t get enough of me!”

  For some reason, his words pierced her like a dagger to the heart. She was sure he wanted to goad her, but she wasn’t going to dignify his boasting with a response.

  “Goodnight, Lyric.”

  When he took a moment to reflect on what he said, Lyric flinched. “I’m sorry...”

  “What? Why are you apologizing? What do you have to be sorry about? Your personal affairs are none of my concern. I don’t care.” Aurora sighed. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  When she closed her eyes, she could feel the sting of unshed tears.

  III

  “WOLF!”

  Lyric opened one eye. He heard the familiar shouting, but this time, he paid little heed.

  “WOLF! THERE’S A WOLF!”

  A few seconds later, Aurora rubbed her eyes, having also been roused from her sleep. “What’s that?”

  “St. John’s grandson, remember?” Lyric asked with a yawn. “That little liar. If he was my grandson, I’d roast him over a spit!”

  Lyric’s yawn was contagious; Aurora yawned too. “If he was your grandson, it would make a lot of sense.”

  “What? And why is that?”

  Aurora tapped him on the nose. “Familial resemblance.”

  “WOLF! EVERYONE, WAKE UP! THERE’S A WOLF!”

  Lyric sat up and cradled the back of his neck. “All of this sleeping on the floor hasn’t been gentle on me.”

  “A crick in your neck again?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “What time is it?”

  “I have no idea. But it’s still dark outside.”

  “Lay back down. It’s too early to wake up.”

  One minute, they were conversing as casually as ever. The next minute, their hut burst into a million pieces, erupting in a hailstorm of straw. Aurora ducked, shielding her eyes from the whirling hay.

  “What’s going on?!” Lyric shrieked. “What happened to our house?! Why did it just—”

  His gaze was pulled to the left, where he found his answer. A giant wolf, much larger than a bear, was wreaking havoc on the town. This time, St. John’s grandson wasn’t lying.

  “Cerberii!”

  Lyric was on his feet in a second. “Cer-WHAT-ii?”

  “Cerberii!” Aurora leapt to her feet and grabbed Lyric’s hand. “That’s the wolf that attacked me in the woods!”

  “What? You got attacked by a wolf?”

  “Yes!” Aurora shouted “I was telling you about it last night! Weren’t you listening?”

  “Uh, I suggest that we not stand around chatting about the wolf. I suggest that we run into the woods and leave the wolf to our corpulent cronies.”

  Aurora might have agreed with him, had her eyes not been drawn to the terrifying scene that was unfolding. She spotted the little girl from yesterday—the girl who delivered the basket—just a few feet away from the wolf. Cerberii wriggled his claws as he closed the gap between them.

  “Greta!” A familiar voice shouted. “Greta, run!”

  Laurie was trying to warn the little girl, who finally recognized her predicament and made an effort to flee. But she wasn’t fast enough. The wolf lashed out at her, ripping the bottom of her dress with its jagged claws. Aurora hoped its claws were making contact with fabric, not flesh.

  Greta was running in their direction, and so was the wolf. Aurora grabbed the sleeve of Lyric’s shirt and tried to encourage him to take flight, but he did something uncharacteristically courageous. Shaking off Aurora’s grip, he ran toward Greta, scooped her off her feet and tucked the little girl under his arm. As small as she was, he knew there was no way she could escape from the wolf on her tiny legs.

  “LYRIC!” Aurora watched in horror as the wolf swung a massive paw at Lyric’s head, narrowly missing its target.

  “Aurora, go!” Lyric shouted at her. “Go, go!”

  Aurora spun around and m
ade a dash for the woods, which was not quite the safe haven she was hoping for. Cerberii was following her; she could hear the wolf panting as it made its pursuit. She hoped Lyric wasn’t too far behind, but she didn’t dare to look over her shoulder. What if the wolf got him? For some reason, she felt as if her entire world would end if something bad happened to Lyric.

  She ran until her legs no longer felt like her own. She ran until her cheeks were stung by the frigid morning breeze. She ran until her heart was overflowing with fear—not fear for herself, but fear for Lyric.

  Then she heard his voice.

  “Keep going!” he shouted at her. “I think we’re losing it!”

  Aurora followed his advice. After a few more minutes of sprinting, they reached a small thatched cottage in the middle of the woods. When Lyric caught up to her, he was still carrying Greta, who was tucked under his arm like a small satchel. As soon as he lowered her to the ground, he doubled over and gasped for air. Aurora lay against the side of the cottage and swiped the cold sweat from her brow.

  “Do you think it’s still coming after us?” she asked.

  “I... I don’t... don’t know,” Lyric murmured. He was still in the process of catching his breath.

  “Don’t you think we should find someplace to hide?”

  “That might be a good idea.” He eyed the cottage for a few seconds. “I’d knock on the door, but we’ve had some bad experiences with cottages, so—”

  “You mean talking bears?”

  Lyric nodded.

  “Don’t be silly, Lyric. What are the odds that that would happen again?”

  “Pretty damn high, if you take into account the village of talking pigs. And we were just chased by a gigantic wolf, might I add.”

  Neither of them noticed that Greta was clinging to Lyric’s waist. The little girl must have deemed him a hero.

  “Well, right now, I’d take talking bears over a giant wolf. Who knows? Maybe some sweet little old lady will answer the door?” Disregarding Lyric’s reservations, Aurora tapped on the cottage door. A few seconds later, a little old lady did open the door. Her head was a mass of downy white curls, and her face was kindly and wrinkled.