Spear of Destiny by James Baldwin (little bear else holmelund minarik .TXT) 📕

Suri laughed. Softly. “Given how much I drank last night, I’m betting it does.”

I glanced back at Solai one more time, then crept out through the beaded curtains shielding her door and out into the temple. “Where’s Karalti?”

“Sleeping. She polymorphed down and danced herself into a coma after eating about three tons of lobster. The music in town was a lot better than the racket you had to listen to. Need me to get her up?”

“Please.” I paused in the breezy hallway outside the queen’s chambers as Suri’s words sank in past the fugue of alcohol and hallucinogens. “Is she gonna be pissed at me?”

“About Solai? Hard to say.”

“I’m covered in scratches and fur and who knows what else. But you’ve got all my potions.”

“Might be best if I come and see you first, then. You might want to consider a bath, too. Given you probably smell like, ahh...”

“Yeah.” I grimaced, rubbing my eyes as I stumbled against a wall and stayed there for a few seconds. “Jesus Fucking Christ. Does this make me a furry now?”

Suri chortled. “Come to the bathing pool, lover boy. Let’s get a look at all your boo-boos.”

“Screw you.” I grumbled, good-naturedly, and called up the mini-map to orient on Suri’s position. “I’m on my way.”

“Don’t trip and fall in another pussy,” Suri laughed, then hung up the chat.

Chapter 44

An hour later, we were mostly upright and assembled in the Lotus Plaza as instructed. I was surprised to see Gar waiting alongside Rin. He looked owlish and tired, a crumpled cigarette hanging from his bottom lip.

“Hell of a night,” he grunted. “What was that racket going on at the back of the temple? Sounded like they were flayin’ people alive back there.”

“I think it was like that CIA black site torture method where they put you in a brightly lit room and blast Chinese opera 24 hours a day? But there was a demon and a princess.” I rubbed my face. A bath, some food, healing potions and a sympathetic massage from Suri had gotten rid of all the debuffs except the Fatigued penalty: -5% to all skills. Potions had patched me up, but I still had a few faint scars on my back.

“Decided you want to come after all, did you?” Suri asked Gar acidly.

He shrugged. “Why the hell not?”

“You tell me. You’re the one who said you didn’t give a rat’s arse about anything other than your bloody ship,” Suri said.

“Yeah, well, I got talkin’ to some bigshot here at the temple last night. She said Queen Whatshername will pitch in to help repair the Strelitzia. They got airships and spare parts. Reason we ain’t seen of them is because their hangars are camouflaged underground.” He shrugged again, a quick jerk of his shoulders. “I’m hoping it's true. Startin’ to get worried about Ambrose and the others.”

“How long will repairs take?” I asked.

“If we work together and have NPCs helping us? Maybe a day,” Rin said.

“Yeah. Then I’m coming with you to your damn castle.” Gar glowered at me.

I raised my eyebrow. “You seem super stoked about that.”

“I am.” He pointed at my chest. “Because you’re going to extract your damn murder chicken and pay me extra for letting her use my bed as a fucking incubator.”

I glared back at him. “Why are you here then, Gar? If you don’t care, why’d you show last night?”

He made a show of thinking about it. “... Guess y’all helped me win a few levels day before yesterday. For what that’s worth.”

“We’re in an RPG. It’s worth everything.” I said. “You don’t level? You’ll fall behind, and one day, some asshole like Lucien Hart is going to come along, kick your ass, and take your ship and everything else you care about.”

“So what? I’ll build another one. There’s more to life than being ahead of other people.” Gar slowly raised his eyes toward the sky. “There she is. Yer big flying lizard’s back.”

Karalti landed at the entry to the temple, careful not to crush any of the gawking Meewfolk there, and vanished behind the gates and stairwells as she shrunk down. A few minutes later, she ran up the stairs, pink in the face.

“Sorry I’m late!” She licked her lips as she joined me, reaching out to grasp my hand. “I was having a bath. Are we gonna see the Avatar now?”

“I guess so?” Now that we were all here, I looked around, unsure if the Avatar was coming out to see us, or what. “Maybe we have to be here at a specific time, but-”

No sooner had I said that than the world around us warped, blurred to black, and then unfolded again. Instead of the bustling temple terrace, we stood in a darkened room. It was simple and elegant: smooth floors, hand-carved lattice walls, all of it wrought from teak and fragrant sandalwood. We’d arrived inside of a permanent magic circle, a ring of metal inlaid in the floor. At the far end was a small, low Asian-style table, and behind that was the figure I had seen early in the morning.

“Please, all of you. Come and take your seats.” The Avatar’s voice was as low and musical in person as it had been in his projection. He was heavily robed, with a veil obscuring his features. However, we could see his hands as he deftly measured out some bright golden powder with a small scale. They were a Meewfolk’s hands, clawed, with prominent knuckles and rough bean pads on the fingers, but they were completely hairless. His skin was as smooth and grey as smoke, and his fingertips were tattooed in small lines of script.

One by one, we filtered over. I took my place in the middle, with Suri to my right and