Chapter 8 Firing up Big Betty
Firing up Big Betty
Big Betty dozed in the barn at the back of the property, an incongruous sight. The enormous elephant lazily plucked piles of fruit from a manger in her plus-sized stall while the much smaller horses and donkeys stamped nearby.
By the look of her, Big Betty hadn’t been on the juice for some time.
Animals that hadn’t transformed to ride the ley lines in a while lost that glossy shimmer of magic, as the ambrosia that fueled them in carriage form gradually faded from their systems, and they reverted to resembling their more natural counterparts.
Sometimes, the enchantment that gave them the ability to transform degraded entirely, rendering the creatures standard household pets forever more.
Cha squinted dubiously at Big Betty. “Haven’t you been driving her?”
“When would I?” Dy demanded grumpily, though her scowl softened when Betty lifted her trunk in a welcome. She went to the great beast and patted the gray-whiskered cheek with affection. “The company has me driving their rigs—optimized for their proprietary ley lines.”
“Then what’s the point of having you at the controls?” Cha demanded. “Any baby ley rider can snooze in the cab of a transport and hit the switches at the junctions. You’re wasted in that job.”
“I know that,” Dy ground out. “Not that I’m wasted—because of course any ley rider can follow the stabilized lines.
But that’s why I’m on the night runs now.
There’s been a lot of damage to the commercial ley lines.
Vandalism on the proprietary paths the locals aren’t supposed to use.
They need me on the job because I can effect the repair on the fly and keep the delivery schedule and don’t look at me like that! I’m good at my job.”
“That’s like saying the sun is good at drying piss on the pavement,” Cha scoffed. “You’re the most powerful, skilled, and inventive ley sorceress I’ve been privileged to know. Probably that exists anywhere outside the fae realms.”
“That was someone I used to be maybe, a long time ago.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re still you—and you should be running that company, not working as some overqualified repair-mage.”
“Well, now I’m doing neither, since I’m officially quitting.”
“About time, too. You’re way too special for the likes of them.”
Dy paused, blinked at Cha. “Why are you the only person who ever believed in me?”
Cha snorted. “Phinny believes in you.”
Shaking her head slowly, Dy caressed Betty’s trunk, which curled lovingly around her tiny waist. “That’s different. Besides, my mother never did.”
“Your horrible mother doesn’t believe in anything but herself. Bad example.”
“And even Phinny was dazzled by the fame. You believed in me from the beginning and with unwavering intensity, even when I was no one.”
“You were never no one.” Cha tried to sound brusque, but the words came out a little rough. “You’re my partner. I know what you can do, and you saved my ass more times than I can count.”
“Likewise,” Dy said on a sigh, then gave Cha a searching look, a vulnerability in it she hadn’t shown in front of Phinny. “Do you really think we can do this?”
“If we can’t, no one can.”
“That’s not a yes.”
“Would you have believed me if I’d just said ‘yes’?”
Dy barked out a laugh. “A valid point. You’ve never lied to me, have you, Cha? Despite all the rest.”
“I’ve never lied to you and I never will.”
The sorceress hesitated, then visibly came to a decision. “I want you to promise me something. It’s important.”
Uh oh. “All right,” Cha replied evenly.
“Promise me you’ll be responsible. Every minute of the way, and back again.”
Cha nearly protested, but she caught the serious glint in Dy’s pretty blue gaze. And it was true: responsibility had never been Cha’s strong suit. “I’ll be responsible, every minute of the way and back again.”
“Promise.”
With a groan, Cha lifted her eyes to the sky. “I promise I’ll be responsible, every minute of the way and back again.”
“Thank you,” Dy said quietly.
“I believe we can do this,” Cha told her, happy to have that done with. “So what if it’s purple fae and ley lines that go bump in the night? We’ve never not made a delivery. We’re not going to screw up now.”
“We’re out of practice.”
“Rested,” Cha corrected. “Ready to blaze.”
Betty, as if understanding, lifted her trunk in a vigorous trumpet. From the far side of the cottage, Katu let out a purring yowl of agreement.
“The carriage-critters agree. Let’s ride.”
Dy held out a hand and they gripped forearms. “Bandit and Goldilocks, on the road again.”
*
Dy led Betty around to the ley-line driveway, the elephant lifting her ears and trunk in happy anticipation, a sprightly skip in her step.
People argued about the ethics of enchanting the animals for use as carriages, but those who worked with the animals knew how much they loved the speed and excitement of riding the leys in more powerful, indestructible forms, maybe even more than the ley riders did.
Only the fae knew how the actual enchanting worked, doing that bit of spell work in secret before selling the carriages to humans through various marketplaces.
The bigger or faster the animal and carriage, the more expensive the price tag.
“Betty has missed our runs,” Dy commented, echoing Cha’s thoughts.
“The carriage-critters aren’t the sort to sit around any more than we are,” Cha replied, running her hand over the Katu’s wickedly curved fender. “They’re raised to run and trained with the best, just like us. Once you get a taste, you can’t get away from it.”
“I can vouch for that.” Dy guided Betty onto the ley line.
The big elephant moved eagerly, caressing the currently inanimate jaguar with a thoughtful nuzzle of the flexible tip of her trunk, then stood stock still as the enchantment embedded in the ley line triggered the spell woven into Betty’s physiology.
The prismatic magic shimmered over Betty’s gray and wrinkled hide as it became metallic, her body extending into a long, boxlike shape.
Her head and shoulders clip-clapped into a shell, creating a cabin within.
Feet tucked up, leaving the carriage bobbing some distance above ground before the motion settled out.
When the transformation was complete, all signs of Betty the elephant had vanished, replaced by the biggest transport rig on all the ley lines of all the human principalities.
Maybe the fae realms too. Big Betty hummed quietly with power, ready to cruise the lines at full speed, empty or laden.
Beside her, the jag picked up on the magic Dy had juiced into the ley-line spur, purring to similar life.
The two carriages—Big Betty, huge and imposing, and the open-topped jag, low and sleek—shared a quintessential partnership.
Like Cha and Dy, Katu and Betty had always been at their best working together.
“They look good together,” Dy commented quietly.
Cha threw her an appreciative grin. “Yeah, they do.”
Something gargled out a sound like a vomiting hound dog might make, and Warg ambled slowly up, belly dragging on the lavender-tipped grass and leaving a denuded trail behind.
Basically a cross between a crocodile and a salamander—though in an unnatural shade of pink with violet, palm-sized spots—Warg had zero attractive qualities, but Dy squealed at the thing’s arrival, crouching to embrace the irascible creature and kiss its slimy cheek.
“There you are,” she chided in a honeyed baby-talk she didn’t use with her own kids.
“Have you been swimming in the swampy end of the pond again, sweetums?”
Judging by the reek, the answer was a definitive yes, but Cha heroically said nothing.
With a grunt, Dy lifted the stinking Warg into the cab of Big Betty, staggering slightly under its unwieldy, long-tailed weight as the creature nearly overflowed her arms. Once inside, Warg showed considerably more alacrity, sitting up almost like a person, tail curved under its lumpy rump and wrapped around in a circle.
It propped clawed front paws on the dashboard as it gazed eagerly out the front window, tongue lolling between yellowed, serrated teeth.
“Look how happy Warg is to get on the line again,” Dy exclaimed to Phinny as she joined them. Phin nodded, a sad smile gracing her strained face as she held out an overnight bag and food hamper. Dy went to kiss her wife and they embraced.
“You and Warg both look happy,” Phin noted, then turned to Cha. “You take care of her or I’m coming after you.”
“Of course, Phinny,” Cha replied, a somber promise. “Always have. Always will.”
“I know.” Phinny nodded as if trying to convince herself.
“That’s the only reason I’m agreeing to this.
Well, one of the reasons. Here.” She reached into the voluminous pocket of her apron and withdrew a box made of polished, dark wood, fastened with a golden lock.
She thrust it at Cha, who took it, bemused.
“The combination is Dy’s birthday,” Phinny said, pushing her fists into her now empty pockets.
Cha keyed in the numbers, opened the lid, and whistled. An array of gemstones glittered with perfect clarity, securely tucked in velvet nests. “Phinny…aren’t you full of surprises?”
“For a rainy day,” Phin replied, hunching her shoulders. “Or an angry fae, in case something from Dy’s past caught up to her.” She glared at Cha. “I figure you count as one of those somethings.”
Cha let that go, as it was painfully accurate.
“You know the relative values?” Phin demanded. “I wrote out a key and put it in the bottom. There’s no telling what any of them are worth in any of the fae realms but Obsidian, so that’s what I noted for each. Still, the relative worth shouldn’t change much. Start with the lowest and work up.”
Cha didn’t retort that even she knew that much. She might not be a financial whiz, but she knew how to bribe. “Thank you, Phinny,” she said quietly. “I’ll bring as many back to you as I can.”
“Just bring home the one jewel that matters,” Phin replied with dignity, quickly lost when Dy tackle-hugged her.
“We’ll be back before you know it,” Dy promised. “I’ll have Otto’s next advance couriered over, so start shopping!” She whispered something in Phin’s ear that had her blushing, so Cha turned away and climbed into the jag, all the home she’d ever needed.
Dy climbed behind the wheel of Big Betty, her sorcery palpably juicing the ley line that led out to the main drag. Cha loved to ride a line that Dy had magicked. Pure speed and the freedom of the road beckoned. As it should be.
“For coin, glory, and thrills!” Cha shouted to Dy, who grinned out the window at the sound of their old rallying cry.
“Let’s haul ass!” she shouted in return, pumping her fist.
And they were off.