28. Vesper #3
I ignore her, mostly because I don’t know what jazz music is, but also because Locke is moving his hips in a way now that has my throat growing thick.
I dance around him, swaying my hips, trying my best to dance hard enough to pass the challenge.
When Locke grabs me and tugs me closer, until our bodies are grinding against each other, I completely forget about the challenge.
My mouth dries as I look up into his eyes.
My leg slides between his and his knee slips between mine, his thigh pressing against my core.
His hands snake around my waist, holding me close as we move.
My breath starts to quicken when I grind down on his thigh and throw my head back.
His other hand goes to the back of my neck, holding me close as we move.
“Stop!”
The music cuts off abruptly, the penguins squawking loudly in complaint.
I’m breathing hard as I pull back from Locke, our eyes on each other.
“That was very sexy,” Svetlana coos at Locke. “Almost makes me want to forgo slicing off your head so I can watch the two of you fuck.”
Locke’s brows lower at the praying mantis, but he turns toward the Emperor with a scowl. “What now?”
“Your dancing is . . . sufficient,” the Emperor declares. “Now . . . you must have an offering for me.”
I hesitate. “What sort of offering do you require?”
I’d just gotten rid of a lot of items in my inventory and stored a lot more, but none of it seems like something a penguin would like. I certainly don’t have anything currently on me worthwhile. What would a penguin do with a man-eating houseplant?
“A pebble!” the Emperor screams. “Good enough to gift my favorite hen.” He points with his beak to the pretty feminine penguin off to the side. “If each of your pebbles do not meet my requirements, you fail.”
“What requirements?” I ask the same time as Locke asks, “What happens if we fail?”
The Emperor penguin honks. “You die!”
He doesn’t answer my question, leaving us to make assumptions about what makes a good pebble to a penguin.
“Fuck,” Locke says, looking at me. “You don’t happen to have a few amazing pebbles in your inventory, do you?”
“I put all my stacks of rocks in the storage chest,” I answer. “And I just traded away my rock that had monkey brains on it. You don’t have anything at all?”
Locke scowls and looks around the ground. “Some of us only pick up what we need. I haven’t had time to start hoarding since we last talked about it.”
“And look at where that’s gotten you!” I hiss, looking around the ground, too, hoping I’ll somehow magically find a pebble suitable for an emperor.
“Do we have a time limit to find these pebbles?” Svetlana asks the Emperor when neither of us think to ask.
“Three minutes!” the Emperor declares. “Starting now!”
Frantically, I start looking around the ground for a pebble. But what makes a good pebble for a penguin? What do they like? Why do they need it? How would I possibly know something like that?
“We should find the largest rock I can carry,” Locke says. “Pebble, my ass. He can’t deny a boulder.”
“No,” I growl. “He said a pebble.”
“Perhaps that one,” Svetlana says, pointing to a crude rock. “It looks like a severed head. Everyone loves severed heads.”
“Debatable,” Locke grumbles.
“What about a smooth one?” I ask. “Colorful one?”
I pick up a handful of pebbles and flick off the brown ones until I have a pretty blue pebble, smooth and perfect. Locke picks up the boulder he’d been talking about.
“We both have to offer one,” Locke says.
I grimace. “I don’t think that’s going to work, Locke.”
“One minute!” the Emperor declares. “Please me with your pebble selection promptly.”
I give up looking and reason that the small blue pebble in my hand is the prettiest one around that I can find. I move over to the Emperor penguin and hold out my hand.
“My offering,” I say.
He waddles close and picks up the pebble, testing it between his beak. Seemingly satisfied, he moves over to the female penguin and sets it at her feet. She flutters unnaturally long eyelashes and blows him a kiss.
“Accepted,” the Emperor declares. “Next!”
Svetland drops her pebble onto the ground for the Emperor and watches at he picks it up again, chews it for a moment, and then carries it over to the hen. She bends down, touches it with her beak and then makes a soft noise of appreciation.
“Accepted,” the Emperor declares and then looks at Locke expectantly where he holds the large rock.
I can see the moment Locke doubts his selection now that he’s watched how our pebbles were handled, but he’s stubborn. He heaves the boulder in front of the female penguin, knowing the Emperor would never be able to lift it. When it lands with a thud, she squawks and stumbles backward, distraught.
The Emperor’s eyes narrow. “Is this your offering, player?”
“Yeah,” Locke says. “This pebble is clearly the largest and most pleasing to the eye.” He taps the top of it. “You could stand on it and be taller than even us.”
The Emperor looks at his female who squawks and shakes her head, moving away from the boulder uneasily. He turns back to Locke. “This pebble . . . does not pass,” he says. “My hen cannot use it to build a nest.”
I shoot Locke a look. The pebbles were for her nest! A fucking boulder would never work for that. We didn’t know but . . . shit. This is going to be bad.
My shoulders tense as the penguin Emperor waddles up to us both, his tiny golden crown shaking back and forth as he towers to his full height.
“Now . . .” he says, eyeing the three of us with disgust. “You all die.”