Practicing Elf Care (2/2)
“Like a few hundred. Big for this part of the wilds. Oh! This might help. There's not much between it and Belltollia.”
Threadbare pondered. “I wonder how long it will be until we reach it?”
“Maybe tonight? Never flown this way before. I'm guessing by the parts of my map that I can see with the skill.”
“That does help,” Threadbare said, as Glub moved out of his line of sight. “Thank you very much. Please stay safe. Whisper me if you need help or saved.”
Glub didn't reply, but Threadbare knew his words had been heard.
It was good to have an old and reliable friend along for this adventure. Allies were in short supply on this vessel.
Turning, he saw Karey's spectacles glint as she stared at him from her spot on the wheel. Then pointedly turned her gaze to Glub. Then back to him.
It would be better to say, Threadbare thought, that trustworthy allies were in short supply.
He simply nodded to show that he'd gotten the point, and once she looked away he forced himself to walk casually, and ambled his way belowdecks.
In time she would come after him, he knew. And when he checked, Gaston was down sitting next to Jean, playing cards with her through the bars, so there was no point in questioning her right now. Instead Threadbare retreated to his quarters.
“Oh bless me,” Renny said, as they got inside and shut the door. “That was a lot of strain. Do you mind if I use that crown again?”
“Not at all,” Threadbare said, passing over the golden laurel wreath that he kept under his hat. It was a very special item, because it let him rest. Not sleep, mind you, but lay down and recharge his energy like most organic people could. Normally golems had no way to do that, so it took them longer to restore their spent energy pools. The laurels were one of the few shortcuts he'd found to help with that which didn't involve Shaman skills.
“Left one's open,” Midian said. “Or is that port? No, it's sherry. Brandy? I don't know.”
She was sitting on the right-hand bunk, grinning ear-to-ear. Her eyes were sad, though.
Renny took a look, hopped up on the left-hand bunk, and drew the curtain. “Activate Rest. Good night, I don't feel like talking sorry Midian.”
“I could talk,” said Threadbare, moving so he could see the light through the keyhole. “If that's what you want to do, Miss Midian.”
“Miss Midian? No, they won't miss Midian. No one will. Well unless they're trying to hit me. But you can't miss what didn't exist in the first place. Unless you thought it did. Some lies are best left lying. Some flies are best left flying. Where are we flying to?”
“A place called Queen's Ford. Do you know it?”
“Queen's Ford. Queen's Chrysler. Queen's Honda... no. Not sure what we're driving here. Hope the tires are good. It's going to be a bumpy ride. Dragons in the rear view mirror are larger than they appear.”
The elf's eyes focused on Threadbare. “Would you like to know about Queen's Ford?”
“So you do know it?”
“I don't yet. I will soon. Just give me... time. Heh. As if I haven't had enough already. Short Vision.”
And with that the strange elf passed out, slumping back into the bed, seemingly asleep.
“She's an Oracle!” Renny burst out, then clapped his hand over his mouth. “Whoops. Sorry.”
“It's all right. Your voice is pretty quiet,” Threadbare said, keeping his eyes fixed on the keyhole. “Just stay put and rest. An Oracle, you say?”
“Yes. I know the skill she used. She'll be out for about an hour, more or less. With maybe a dream that can help us.”
That sounded good, so Threadbare settled in to wait.
Unfortunately it wasn't what happened.
What happened was that Midian snapped bolt upright a few minutes later, a thin scream escaping from her lips. “Too many! Too many too manytoomanytoomany—” she broke off and looked at Threadbare with haunted eyes. “I'm sorry. Your call cannot be connected as dialed. Please try again. Yourself, this time.”
And then before he could react, with elven speed and grace Midian leaned forward and booped him on the nose.
“Grant Vision,” she said, and everything shifted as the world changed...