CHAPTER SEVEN
FLUMPH
The Infinite Forest
Fae Realm
I’m startin’ ta wonder if I’m drugged outta my damn mind jist as bad as that angel is.
‘Cause one minute, we’re in the shadow forest an’ I’m tryin’ to convince big, pissed off Goliath that I ain’t lyin’ when I said the angel’s got ‘er wings. An’ the next thing I knows, we be headin’ through another time-travelin’ hole full o’ mist an’ now I finds myself in the middle o’ another forest. Only this one ain’t so fuckin’ scary. Thank my goddamn balls. It’s still dark, though.
“Thoradin, you will travel with us,” Dragan announce to his main squeeze. Then, he look back at the equivalent to a gargoyle stepson. “Tell Gurdis to travel back to the Gorge. Variant will be coming for me. If the battalion must scatter to survive, so be it.”
Thoradin nods and then goes to talk to the gargoyle runner-up.
“Where we goin’?” I ask Dragan.
“To find Cambion.”
“What the fuck’s that mean?”
“Don’t ask questions if you won’t understand the answers,” he say real rude like an’ frown down at me.
Dick.
***
FLUMPH
We walk for, like, three hours—well… Dragan an’ Thoradin do. Dragan’s carryin’ the angel an’ I’m ridin’ on her back real comfortable like.
“You know’s what I hate ‘bout the other realms?” I say to Dragan, but he don’t turn ‘round to look at me soze I just continue talkin’. “I hate that there ain’t none o’ the modern conveniences like we got in the Mortal Realm.”
“What are you on about?” Dragan grumbles.
“Look at us,” I answer. “We been walkin’ nonstop for ways too long when we coulda been drivin’ us a sweet ass ride if we was in the Mortal Realm.”
“Every realm has its benefits and hindrances,” Dragan say.
“This faerie realm make it feel like we back in the medieval times,” I complain. “An’ name me one good thing ‘bout yer realm.”
He finally glance back at me, an’ he wearin’ a smirk. “No sprites.”
“Ha ha, real damn funny, anus face,” I mutter. “Why it be that way, anyways?”
“Why is what what way?” Dragan ask me back.
“The realms? Why there be modern conveniences in the Mortal Realm but not here?”
“Because Variant wants it that way.”
“Why he want it that way?”
“You never stop asking questions, do you?”
“Not ‘til I get me some answers.”
Dragan sigh like he real frustrated, but he answer all the same. “Because Cambion was banished to the Fae Realm and I was banished to the Shadow Realm, Variant disallowed us both the benefits of technology that evolved in the Mortal Realm. It’s part and parcel of our punishment.”
“Then you ain’t never seen a vehicle before?” I ask.
He glares at me. “I’ve seen vehicles before because I haven’t stayed trapped in my realm, as you’re already aware.” He take a big breath. “No more questions.”
Then he an’ Thoradin stop walkin’ an’ jist start starin’ at this big-ass tree, like it’s nekked an’ got titties or somethin’. I guess all trees are nekked but this one definitely don’t got no titties. It do look old an’ dead, though.
“The Tree of Shadows,” Dragan announce, then he lean down an’ carefully puts the unconscious girl on the ground. She ain’t made a sound this whole time. Not a peep, fart… nothin’. I checked her a couple times ta make sure she ain’t dead, but she still alive. For now, anyways.
I watch Dragan as he stands in front o’ the tree an’ then close his eyes an’ starts movin’ his hands in front o’ him like he touchin’ a ball. Not like a hairy testicle ball, but like a ball you bounce.
Anyhows, all o’ a sudden, there’s like dark shadows pourin’ out his hands an’ they’re spreadin’ down his arms, an’ I’m startin’ to get antsy ‘cause I’m a creature o’ the light an’ I dunno ’bout this dark arts crap. An’ Dragan’s like the King o’ the Darkness. I swear, if that tree come to life an’ start talkin’, I’m gonna shit my pants an’ die. Right here.
Well, that ain’t ‘xactly what happens. Instead, Dragan start speakin’ some crap I don’t understand, an’ then the center o’ the tree get all blurry an’ translucent-like. It’s like, wavin’ with ripples you can see through, but when I look real hard, I don’t see what I figure would be on the other side o’ the tree. ‘stead, I see a totally different place that ain’t got nothin’ to do with this one. Yeah, I know. It don’t make sense to me neithers.
Dragan stops his ball rubbin’ an’ stops talkin’ his gibberish an’ leans over to pick up the girl, with me still sittin’ on her.
He frown at me but I smile back ‘cause I’m a happy sprite like that.
I’m guessin’ the tree’s actually a portal into some other place ‘cause Dragan start walkin’ into the blurry part an’ he don’t get smacked in the face by tree bark or nothin’. Come to think o’ it, I kinda wish he did get smacked in the face, ‘cause he a right twat an’ need to be brought down a peg or two an’ that’d be some funny shit.
When we comes out the other side o’ the tree, it’s like we’s in dreamland. It ain’t pitch dark no more, but it ain’t bright, neither. ‘stead, the air’s that dark blue like it be right before sunset.
“How long does the angel have before the withdrawals begin, liege?” Thoradin asks Dragan, who shrugs.
“Not much longer. The sooner we find Cambion, the better.”
Thoradin don’t say nothin’ else an’ I’m wonderin’ if maybe he’s as lost as I is ‘bout who this Cambion turd-for-brains is.
“We don’t have much longer, either,” Thoradin points out an’ Dragan nod real solemn-like.
“Fifty-seven minutes. I’m keeping track.”
“An’ then you gonna turn to stone?” I ask, lookin’ at both of ‘em.
“Yes,” Dragan answer without botherin’ to look at me.
In front o’ us be a dirt path leadin’ into a town o’ sorts. We be surrounded by big-ass flowers o’ every size an’ color you ever thought. The sound o’ soft music fill the air—like flutes or somethin’—an’ it smell like we jist walked into the middle o’ a rose. The darker it gets, the more I notice lil balls o’ light dancin’ in an’ ‘round the flowers.
I fly off the girl an’ start buzzin’ ‘round the flowers, an’ they smell even better up close. They so big, I can land on ‘em. Soze I do. Lotsa times. I jist float ‘round an’ land on flowers an’ then fly ta the next one like this was what I was meant ta do all my life.
An’ them balls of light? Pixies. Smaller than me, even. I’m finally a big ass sprite in a small ass faerie pond. An’ that be sayin’ somethin’.
“Sprite, stop fucking around,” Dragan grumble at me.
Dick.
We keep goin’ down the dirt path into a town. Glowin’ lanterns bob in the gentle breeze an’ light our path. Meanwhiles, these big ol’ fireflies buzz through the fields o’ flowers either side o’ us.
The town itself is full o’ little circular hut-like things made outta wood an’ topped with mossy roofs, an’ every one of ‘em has its own enclosed garden overflowin’ with flowers an’ bushes. I’m wonderin’ if Snow White live here ‘cause every woodland animal known to the forest is hangin’ out like they ain’t afraid o’ becomin’ dinner.
I spot some halflings an’ they’re bigger than me which sucks, but then I figures I’ll jist hang out with them pixies when I move in. It ain’t like the halflings are that much bigger, anyways—they’s maybe three feet tall. A few more walk by an’ that’s when I notice the townfolk noticin’ us, an’ they looks a lil worried. Not that I blames ’em, ‘cause Dragan could pass for Satan any day o’ the week an’ Thoradin ain’t much better. If Dragan’s a ten on the scary-as-fuck meter, Thoradin’s like a seven. Maybe an eight.
“What business have you here? Your kind isn’t welcome.” I hear a voice an’ look down to see a real fat gnome blockin’ Dragan’s path. I didn’t even see where the gnome came from! I ain’t got no idea if one o’ them flowers jist burped him up, or maybe I jist weren’t payin’ attention an’ he been there the whole time?
“I ain’t with them,” I start to explain, but then Dragan smack me with the back side o’ his big-ass mitt o’ a hand an’ I go somersaultin’ over all them flowers. It take me a second to recover an’ then I got me a mean headache.
Dick.
Meanwhiles, a whole group o’ gnomes have piled theyselves up in front o’ Dragan an’ Thoradin. An’ they all look real pissed-off-like. The gnomes are a lil taller than the halflings, but not by much.
“We’re here to see Cambion. We wish you no harm,” Dragan say as the pixies start surroundin’ us. There’s, like, a hundred o’ ‘em all at once an’ they buzzin’ ’round our heads an’ I see a few o’ ‘em in the girl’s hair an’ under her blanket, probly tryin’ ta figure out if she got a giant lizard tail under there or somethin’.
Then, they all buzz off in a wave an’ we’re jist standin’ in the middle o’ this weird town, surrounded by unfriendly munchkins an’ I’m wonderin’ what the hell’s for dinner.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
I hear a deep voice to the right, where the main road break off intos another one. I whirls ‘round to see a man—er, a faerie elf to be exact. He got a big owl sittin’ on one o’ his shoulders. An’ that owl’s makin’ me a might nervous, ‘cause owls gotta taste for fat, little sprites like me. ‘Course, the owl ain’t made no move ta eat any o’ them pixies so maybe it’s a vegetarianism.
I glance back at the guy with the owl on his shoulder an’ realize he got other fae standin’ jist behind him. Three of ‘em, an’ by the way’s they dressed an’ the weapons they’s holdin’, I think they’re fae militia. Two men fae with staffs an’ a lady fae with a crossbow. She look the meanest.
The head fae ain’t armed at all an’ he smilin’ at us—well, more at Dragan. But it’s a smile that be like for good manners. It ain’t a for-real smile ‘cause it’s too tight.
“Dragan. Welcome to Geldingstock, my barbarian friend,” he say an’ then gesture to the village behind him. “I must admit, I’m surprised to see you.” He pause for a few. “It’s been over a century?”
This guy be real tall but ain’t so tall as Dragan an’ although he definitively muscular, his muscles ain’t big an’ bulky like Dragan’s. His are more long an’ lean, like he been swimmin’ with the merfolk too much. His hair’s dark gold an’ his skin’s bronze. His eyes are amber an’ he might jist be as beautiful as the angel, but in like a more manly kinda way.
“Cambion,” Dragan say but he don’t sound too happy.
An’ I notice neither o’ ‘em offer to shake the others’ hand. Soze maybe they ain’t friends? ‘Course, Dragan came here ta see this guy so I dunno what ta make o’ the whole thing.
“Dismissed,” Cambion say to the elves behind him, an’ they turn ‘round an’ disappear down the path behind him.
Dragan an’ Cambion jist stand there, starin’ at each other. The owl look at Dragan with them weird owl eyes that always seems like they know too much. Cambion’s the first ta speak agin.
“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 .