by Plum Pascal
“I wasn’t aware that you were allowed to travel freely from the Gorge.”
“I’m not.”
“Then is this an astral version of you with whom I’m speaking?”
Dragan’s eyes narrow as Cambion’s smug smile widens, an’ I immediately decide I like him. Mainly ‘cause I can tell he ain’t gonna let Dragan pull no shit over on him. Even though Cambion ain’t as big as the Gargoyle King, he act like he is.
“Let’s cut the bullshit,” Dragan growl.
“Consider it cut,” Cambion answer in a bored voice an’ then he narrow his eyes as he cross his hands ‘gainst his chest. That’s when I notice his clothin’—considerin’ the guy live in the middle o’ the forest, he ain’t dressed like it. He wearin’ a real nice, tailored violet overcoat in shimmery fabric that look real expensive. An’ he got velvet pants on in a matchin’ color. He look kinda ridiculous.
“Why are you here?” Cambion ask.
“I need your help. Why else would I have come?”
Cambion shrug an’ then pretend ta be way too interested in his clean nails. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you were passing through the fae plane? And you decided to pop in to delight me with tales of the land of deep despair, of wherever it is you’ve been banished to. Or, were supposed to have been banished to.” He look ‘round hisself an’ shrug before lookin’ back at Dragan. “As you can see, I’ve done a far better job of sticking to my banishment.”
“I need you to heal someone,” Dragan say, like he in a big hurry an’ ain’t got time for all o’ Cambion’s talk. “She’s high on Atacomite.”
“She?” Cambion repeat, his eyebrows furrowin’ as he look at Thoradin an’ frown deeper. “Last I had the pleasure of seeing you sans clothing, Thoradin, you possessed a cock and balls, like the rest of us? Has your dick fallen off? To be replaced with a…”
I can’t help my laugh ‘cause that be some funny shit.
“You’ve never seen me naked, faerie,” Thoradin spit back an’ Cambion jist smirk, makin’ me wonder if maybe he be more into the sausage than the bun?
“We don’t have time for your games, Cambion,” Dragan interrupt in a voice that sound more like a bark. Then he turn ‘round so Cambion can get a look at the girl.
“Ah, you’ve brought me a wife—how good of you, Dragan,” Cambion say, that jokin’ smile back on his face. “And she’s passed out, just how I like them.” He take a step forward an’ brush the girl’s hair away from her face, an’ then he don’t say nothin’ for a moment or two. He got the same expression Dragan had the first time he saw her.
“She’s quite the looker,” he say in a deeper voice. So maybe Cambion ain’t so much into the sausage as I thought?
“She’s an angel,” Dragan explains like Cambion be a big dumb-dumb.
“An angel?” Cambion repeat an’ then frowns real deep-like. “Aren’t you aware of the edict…”
“Yes! I’m fucking aware of the fucking edict!” Dragan thunder back, an’ all the pixies hide in the flowers which close up ‘round them an’ bow down like they tryin’ to hide, too. Not that I blame ‘em; Dragan’s one scary prick.
“Then you would know,” Cambion start but Dragan interrupt him.
“And I don’t give a fuck about Variant or his fucking edict!”
“Well, if we’re playing the game of who can say fuck the most, you’ve certainly won, old chap,” Cambion say, but he don’t sound too amused. Then he take a real deep breath. “Since I have a feeling you won’t leave until I help you with whatever trouble this girl’s gotten herself into, I will help—on one condition.”
“Which is what?” Dragan demand.
“That you leave and return to your dark cave as soon as I do. The last thing I need is Variant finding out I’m in any way aiding and abetting a criminal.”
“As soon as Variant realizes I’ve escaped the Gorge with an angel, he’ll be coming here, looking for you next. If you’re smart, which I’ve never accused you of in the past, you’ll listen to what I’ve got to say and you’ll help me.”
“Our time, liege,” Thoradin say in a quiet voice from behind Dragan.
“Yes, I’m aware,” Dragan respond.
“Your time?” Cambion ask an’ his smile look like a serpent’s.
“We have thirty minutes remaining before we must return to the land of shadow,” Dragan explain.
“Or what happens?”
“We run the risk of being forced into our gargoyle forms and remaining that way.”
Cambion start to laugh. “Variant certainly thought of every possible angle, didn’t he?”
Dragan don’t look entertained. “And what happens to you if you leave your realm?”
“I don’t know.” Cambion shrug.
“What do you mean?” Dragan insist, but then he like figure it out. “You’ve never attempted to leave the Fae Realm?”
Cambion shrug again. “Why leave? I have everything I need here.”
“You’re kidding.”
Cambion shake his head. “Why voyage off into another realm I have little interest in so I can simply be forced into the body of a rodent or something equally disagreeable?”
“Unbelievable,” Dragan answer. “You’ve completely accepted your servitude.”
“I certainly have not, for I don’t serve Variant. I serve no one but myself. And Geldingstock, which has taken me the last hundred years to build,” he continue an’ then motion to the fae village surroundin’ him. The owl jist blinks.
Dragan glance ‘round but don’t seem impressed. ‘Course he don’t seem impressed ‘bout anythin’, so that ain’t much o’ a surprise.
Cambion turn on his heel an’ start walkin’ for the center o’ his village. The three o’ us follow him, ‘cause it ain’t like we got many other options.
“Sprite,” Cambion say without botherin’ ta turn ‘round an’ look back at me. I’m surprised he’s picked me out an’ I glance over at Dragan who nods at me, probly ta let me know it’s okay for me to talk.
I flutter up to him ‘til we’re both side by side. “That’s me,” I say.
“Your name?”
“Flumph.”
“What are you doing, traveling with such bizarre cohorts?”
“Well, it be kinda a long story.”
“I enjoy long stories,” Cambion nearly interrupt an’ then look at me with a real stern expression. “As long as they’re not corrupted with lies.”
“I ain’t no liar, mister,” I start an’ furrow my eyebrows into a real cross expression.
“Very good. Then we shall be the best of friends,” Cambion respond an’ then lead us down a dead-end road, an’ we takes a turn onto a smaller path that lead in between flowers almost as tall as him.
“Now, back to the question of how you came to be with this motley crew?” Cambion remind me.
“Well, I was workin’ for Anona in Precinct Five,” I say, an’ I notice Cambion frownin’ which means he either know Anona personally or he heard tell o’ jist how horrible she can be. “An’ this girl come screamin’ down the road an’ yellin’ at the guards to let her in ‘cause somethin’s chasin’ her.”
“Sounds quite frightening.”
“Righty-oh. Anyhows, the guards let her in only ‘cause she be an angel. An’ Anona get super excited ‘bout her bein’ an angel ‘cause she know she gonna make all sorts o’ money on the girl. ‘specially ‘cause the girl be real pretty. Soze Anona take her to the tavern an’ find out she goin’ through Atacomite withdrawals.”
“You were correct, this is quite a long story.”
“You asked for it,” I says an’ shrug.
“Quite right. Continue.”
“Soze, once Anona realize how the girl’s goin’ through withdrawals, she give her a megadose o’ Atacomite soze the girl can’t even talk, an’ she put me in charge of givin’ her a bath.”
“Lucky fellow,” Cambion interjects as we take another turn ‘round a huge, gnarled tree an’ face the biggest
o’ the wood huts. It’s like a three-story one an’ there ain’t no moss on its roof. An’ the garden in front o’ this one puts all the others to shame.
“Maybe if you be into that sort o’ thing, but as a sprite, I ain’t,” I tell ‘im.
“Carry on.”
“Righty-oh. Soze I be washin’ the girl, an’ all o’ a sudden, wings pop out her back! Like real, true angel wings an’ I thinks I’m gonna shit myself real hard!”
Cambion stops walkin’. I stop flyin’ an’ decide to try floatin’ down to the shoulder that don’t got a big bird on it ‘cause I’m real tired. But once I do, Cambion do the same thing Dragan did an’ dusts me off. But he’s a lil nicer ‘bout it.
“The angel has her wings?” Cambion demand as he face Dragan, an’ his pomp ain’t nowheres to be found.
“I told you I needed your help.”
“Do you understand what this means?” Cambion ask.
“Yes, Cambion, I do,” Dragan growl. “That’s why I’m here.” Then, he take a deep breath. “We’re running out of time, so help the angel and we’ll discuss the particulars after.”
“You want the rest o’ my story or what?” I ask the elf king.
“I’ve heard quite enough,” he answer, but he still glarin’ at Dragan an’ Dragan glarin’ right back at ‘im.
EIGHT
Cambion
Geldingstock,
Fae Realm
I’m fuming.
What the fuck is Dragan thinking, coming here and bringing this angel with him? Doesn’t he remember what fucking Variant did to Baron? Right in front of us, no less? We’re lucky to still be alive.
Taking a deep breath, I try to calm myself as I think back to the day the four of us signed the pact and took the oath. We were each given immortality. The only way we could die was if one of us bore the title of murderer—something Variant made plainly clear he was willing to do when he did it to Baron.
I hope he doesn’t track Dragan here, but if he does, I’ll have to turn the whole lot of them over to Variant, pretending I had nothing to do with any of this.
While I am living a life of banishment, it’s really not so bad. I have everything I could want. As far as prisons go, mine could be much worse. It could be what Dragan’s facing, and has been for the last one hundred years already.
I lead my unwanted guests through the garden in front of my stately home and open the door, granting them entry.
Trym, I address the owl riding on my shoulder through our telepathic connection. I speak to him in the old language of Elvish. Trym is my animal familiar. Keep sentry and scout the perimeter of Geldingstock for strangers. Should you see any, alert me immediately.
Trym alights and flies off overhead, eager, as always, to do my bidding.
Once I follow the rest of the party into my home, I watch them pause to take in their surroundings. The sprite immediately appears impressed with my ornately carved wooden furniture, expensive rugs, and priceless art. Dragan narrows his eyes as he takes in the splendor surrounding him, while Thoradin appears simply bored.
“Nice to know you’ve been living the life,” Dragan grumbles as I steal a few more glances at the angel slung over his shoulder. She’s certainly beautiful; no one can argue that. Perhaps once I return her to her health, she will choose to repay me by favoring me with her delectable body.
“Banishment isn’t to me what it is to you,” I respond. “Bring her upstairs.”
Dragan doesn’t say anything but follows me through the foyer, the living room, and into the hall. From there, we voyage up two flights of stairs. Then, the three of them trail after me down another hallway until we reach the last room and I throw the door open wide.
“Put her on my bed,” I command.
Again, Dragan says nothing but does as he’s instructed, placing the girl on top of the green silken linens. She sinks into the billowing, feather duvet and pillows surrounding her. The sheet Dragan must have stolen from Anona starts to fall off her shoulders, and I notice how careful the gargoyle is about pulling it back up to her chin. I find the whole display rather odd. Dragan is not, by rule, gentle.
He’s quite the opposite. Or so he used to be.
“She has no clothing, so you’ll have to provide for her,” he says gruffly.
“Ah, a beautiful, naked, and unconscious wife. Quite the welcoming gift,” I respond before deciding to delve into the more important area of our conversation. “Now, back to the subject of her angel wings…”
Dragan takes a deep breath, as though he’s going to need it. “I can’t say with any certainty whether she has them or not.”
“Then the sprite could be flubbing?”
“I ain’t flubbin’!” the sprite yells, darting up between the two of us. It’s a courageous little thing, I’ll give it that. Annoying as fuck, though.
Dragan rubs his chin. “Flubbing or not, I’ve seen nothing to prove she has wings.” His frown grows. “My magic failed to force them out of her. And I attempted to do so on two different occasions, but each time I felt like my magic was blocked somehow.”
“Blocked?” I repeat as I glance down at the sleeping girl and shake my head. I return my piercing gaze to Dragan as ire begins to build inside me. “Your Shadow Magic has never been blocked before?”
“Never,” Dragan answers, as though this isn’t a huge deal. “My magic has never failed me on any other occasion.”
The anger builds.
“Look, I ain’t sure why Shadow Dick’s magic ain’t workin’ right,” the sprite declares and I have to stifle a smile at his term for Dragan. “But on my life, the angel got wings—I seen ‘em with my own two eyes.”
“But, alas, no one can prove it,” I say, whirling to face Dragan as I unleash my fury upon him. “You fucking asshole! You’ve come here, wasting my time, inconveniencing me and putting my safety as well as that of my people in jeopardy!”
“Don’t start, Cambion,” Dragan growls, but I’m not intimidated.
“I’m sure word of the missing angel has reached Variant by now, and he’ll come looking for her. Or his emissaries will. And if their trail leads them here, there’s no telling what they’ll do to Geldingstock if I’m unable to talk them out of it.”
“Are you or are you not a creature of magic?” Dragan demands, his jaw tight.
“I’m not sure what my being a ‘creature of magic,’ as you say, has anything to do with this!”
His eyes narrow further and the deep olive of his skin grows red. “Your magic has everything to do with it!” he rails. “If Variant and his forces arrive, you could magic your village away, hide it in plain sight, call in an Aura Of Warding, or summon all the animals of the forest to fight on your behalf. This is your realm, Cambion—your magic is strongest here!”
“And, maybe, I could stall Variant for a few days at the most.” I take a moment as I restrain the anger flowing through me. Anger is not a bedfellow of logic and rational dialogue. “The point is that I don’t want to call Variant’s attention to me. I’ve lived here in peaceful comfort since we were banished, and I find no argument with my banishment.”
The redness of Dragan’s skin grows until I’m quite certain he’s ready to bust a gasket, as the saying goes. Or is it blow a gasket? Hmm… no matter.
“Since when have you become such a fucking dandy?”
“Since when did your stupidity overcome your instinct to survive?”
Dragan, never one to back down from an argument, takes a step closer until we both are standing face to face, glaring at one another. Then, he glances around himself and chuckles. “You’ve been so busy playing house and tending to your goddamned garden, you’ve forgotten what it means to be a warrior! And look at you!” he continues, staring down at me in distaste. “You’re dressed like a fucking girl!”
“Clearly, you have no eye for fashion,” I grumble at him wearily.
He sneers at me, shaking his head. “You were the fucking King of the fucking Seelie Court, for Chri
ssakes! Maybe I need to fucking well remind you, Cambion, that you’re a man and you still possess a fucking cock!”
I laugh coldly in response. He doesn’t know the half of it. “Oh, believe me, I remember I have a fucking cock, you prick.”
“Then act like it—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Just ask any of the eligible women in this village, and they’ll be quick to tell you just how much they enjoy my fucking cock!”
Dragan’s expression falls and the frustration that appears in his eyes is telling. I laugh even more loudly as I realize I’ve got the upper hand in this argument. “Please tell me you’ve at least been able to fuck yourself senseless in that hell-hole you call the Gorge?”
Dragan doesn’t answer.
I laugh louder. “Then all you’ve got for company are your gargoyles?”
He still doesn’t respond, but it’s answer enough. My eyes go wide and I can’t hide my shock. There was a time when Dragan could outfuck me with his hands tied behind his back. And did. On a regular basis.
“Unbelievable! No wonder you’ve been searching for ways out of your dismal abyss.” Then my laughter dies and the smile drops off my face as I remember the situation I’m in, the situation this asshole put me in. “I’ll help your angel, but then you take her and your fucking henchman and that sprite and you get the fuck out of here and never come back.”
“This isn’t so simple, faerie,” Dragan starts, spitting the words at me.
The prick knows how much I hate that term. “Yes, it is. Variant won. You need to accept it the way I have.”
“I will never accept it, because it isn’t true.”
God, I can’t fucking stand him. Truth of it is, I never have. He’s an arrogant, stupid barbarian and he always has been.
“Isn’t true?” I laugh at him like he’s a bigger moron than I had previously thought. “Look at reality, you fool! Variant is the one in power, not us! He’s in control.”
“Maybe for the foreseeable future.”
“Not just the foreseeable future, you fuckhead!” I yell, unable to keep my anger in check now. Dragan is just so fucking stupid. “We’re the lucky ones!” He scoffs at that. “Look at what Variant did to Baron!”