Chapter 22 Pen #2
Gair just vomited all over the mosaic floor. The acidic stench of his barf was almost enough to make Em gag. She erased the description from her journal, and his vomit disappeared with her editing.
Still, the dragon-mutant let out a moan, hugging his bare stomach. A tinge of green caught between his freckled cheeks.
“How scandalous, you all!” Polo giggled, poking at Roden’s exposed six-pack. “Too bad you didn’t show up in your birthday suits. I’d love to see what beauties everyone’s hiding under their undies.”
“Back off, imp.” Roden swatted at the sidekick.
Shit shit shit. Em struggled with her sweaty hands to write back her friends’ clothing into the scene.
Words rolled out across the blank pages of her journal, dictating everything as it happened around her.
She fought to keep up with the rapidly appearing descriptions, her embarrassment twisting in her stomach.
“Where have you been, princess?” Roden demanded, unbothered by his leathery armor appearing piece by piece onto his half-exposed body.
“At the FOURTH WALL,” Em said. Writing each item into existence with the conversation whirling around her was more difficult than she’d expected. Especially because Inky automatically forced her hand back to adjust any typos she made.
“How come Roden’s getting his clothes first?” Gair whimpered. The dragon mutant shivered, curling into an awkward ball on the floor to hide his freckled, lean chest. His silvery scales reflected the bright morning light.
“I’m fucking working on it,” Em snapped.
“How fascinating.” Sasha peered over her shoulder, then yanked Inky from her hands.
“Shit! Sasha, no!” Em lunged at the dryad, but the stronger girl just shoved her back as she examined the glittery pen. “Don’t break it!”
“Where did you get this, sweetheart?” Sasha asked.
“From my Great Author.” Em grunted and pushed against Sasha’s hand on her chest, struggling to steal back Inky and not lose her page in her journal at the same time.
“You met your Great Author?” Sasha exclaimed, amber eyes wide. “Like, not just in a dream? Like real life?”
“Yeah.” Em dropped her arms at her side with a huff. “Now give Inky back to me.”
“The pen?” Roden groaned, running his hands down his face. “Princess, you’ve got to get better at explaining yourself to us. You can’t expect us to follow you into your crazy fantasies if you can’t communicate with us.”
“Miscommunication is a trope,” Sasha added, hands on her hips.
“Well, I can’t fix this awkward situation without my pen,” Em argued.
“Is that so?” Roden raised a suspicious eyebrow.
Sasha clicked her tongue. A knowing smile cut across her face.
“Oh, I get it now.” The dryad chuckled, returning Inky to Em. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you, sweetheart?”
Em tucked Inky into the safety of her journal, snapping the book shut. She couldn’t focus on writing everyone’s clothes back into existence and explain herself at the same time. Gair would just have to deal with the embarrassment.
“I stole it,” Em confessed to her confused friends. “I stole my story from the Great Author, and now Inky gives me the ability to write it.”
“Hold on! You stole from a Great Author?” Gair jumped to his feet. “How?”
“Yeah. I broke through the FOURTH WALL, and now I am my own Great Author.”
“Unbelievable,” Roden grumbled into his hands.
“Heck yeah!” Sasha gave Em a high-five. “Let’s hear it for our Chosen One showing those authors who’s boss!”
“Em, this could be dangerous,” Gair interjected, souring any of Em’s pride. “You don’t know the first thing about how to write a story. You might make a mistake and hurt yourself.”
“I couldn’t make it worse than it already is,” Em spit back.
“I was top of our class at Sanderson. I know everything it takes to be in an original story. This shitty plotline is full of so many clichés and tropes that any change would be a good one. Whatever I can’t figure out, Inky will help me with. ”
“I will do my best to accommodate!” Inky sang brightly from her grasp, even though Em was the only one to hear it.
The pen’s encouragement at least helped her smile a bit more.
“While I cannot write this plot for you, I can at least continue to provide suggestions and keep track of your impending sleep deprivation or update your wordcount tracker.”
“She talks to the pen thing by the way,” Polo whispered loudly to Gair and Roden, cutting through the brewing tension. “It’s kinda weird but just go with it.”
“This is stupid,” Roden growled.
“No, it’s genius,” Sasha said. “Em wants to write her own story to rebel against the Great Authors, and now she can do whatever she wants.”
“That’s exactly what makes it stupid,” the half-elf retorted. “Em’s been nothing but chaotic and selfish this whole quest. How do we know she won’t do something at our own expense to get what she wants?”
Em scoffed at him. “The reason I stole Inky is for all of us.”
“Really?” Roden’s glare sharpened.
“Yes, really.” Em scowled back. “With Inky, we can all become our own Main Characters one day. I’ll transform this shitty plot into something extraordinary.
Then my book can redeem everyone’s tropes; we’ll complete the prophecy and become original all at once.
We don’t have to be stuck dealing with anymore fucking One Bed Inns or stereotypical settings… ”
“As long as they get to choose,” Sasha interrupted.
“Of course,” Em said.
“If you make this all about you, you’ll become no better than the other Great Authors,” the dryad went on.
“I’m aware.” Em shuddered at the notion.
“No, I mean it,” Sasha said. “If you use that pen to hurt anyone just because you consider them unworthy of your grand devices, I will jump ship so quickly, charge you double for the hypocrisy, and drown the rest of the crew with me.”
“Understood.”
“I don’t trust this,” Roden growled.
“I don’t care right now, I just want my clothes back,” Gair whined, still trying to cover his bottom half as he tugged on the hemline of his shirt.
“No, don’t, Highness,” Polo said. “I like staring at his tight butt.”
Gair blushed three shades of red darker.
“Nobody interrupt me!” Em ordered. She opened her journal back up, closed her eyes to visualize what everyone wore before the Fae ball.
She began to write their clothes back into existence.
After a few painstaking minutes with nagging corrections from her friends and a sore wrist from her hurried scribbling, everyone was decent again.
“Thank Novella.” Gair sighed in relief, adjusting his cloak and quiver belt.
Em couldn’t agree more.
“Where to, sweetheart?” Sasha asked.
She twirled Inky in her hands to catch the sentient pen’s attention. “Can you take us to the Long Rest Inn? We need to gather intel before we begin to storm Kriqir’s tower.”
“About time,” Roden growled, but Em ignored his impatience to complete the prophecy.
“On it!” the pen sang out.
In a blink, the scene cut short.