Chapter 6 - "King of Quips"

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We continued on in silence, Layla wobbling on my back as she struggled to stay awake. She’d begun staggering and falling behind, and we didn’t have enough time to stop for her rest. So, when she was too tired to complain about it I shuffled her against my back and piggybacked her onward. The days and nights were longer where I came from, so staying up and moving for several Terran cycles was easy. Still, with the sun now risen it was getting harder to carry her in my current form, especially when she’d suddenly stiffen and look around, her weight shifting sporadically. She sustained her spastic movements for a short while before she finally succumbed to sleep, thank the moons.

  When we reached the next town, I trotted to the nearest, smallest hotel and haggled out a room for two nights in exchange for a handful of smoke bombs and a promise for some cheese. I wasn’t sure who – or what – I was negotiating with, but a tiny bit of horn-like tips poked out from straw-like hair, and I could have sworn that when they blinked, their eyelids went sideways.

The room itself was fairly simple in design; Two beds, a lamp, a dresser. Bathroom down the hall. Unidentified smell coming from the somewhat ratty carpet.

  After determining that nothing was waiting to kill us, I half-tossed Layla onto the nearest bed, who resumed her sleep within seconds, and sat on the foot of the nearest bed to catch my breath. It had been far too long since I had eaten. Properly eaten. The peaches were good, but not enough to fill up the tank. I was alright for walking and quick sprints, but being winded after a couple hours of jogging told me there was a problem, and it wasn’t sleep.

  I shook it off. I still needed to find someone.

  Checking to make sure Layla was out cold, I left the room, locked it, and headed down to the lobby. There was a small bar with three coffee-makers, none of which had coffee, a loudly humming vending machine that looked about ten years old, and a small station of three computers set into the wall. There was no one at the desk, only a note reading ‘Be back in five’. After a quick inspection I was fairly sure I’d be alone as long as I didn’t break anything.

  I was glad of the silence. Fighting then fleeing on repeat made for little time for…anything other than fighting or fleeing, really. I fished around in my pants for a small bit of cloth and pulled it free, the two squares connected by thread sewn in a half-circle. Opening the cloth created a complete circle, a small symbol appearing in the fabric of the cloth. I spoke my need and dug a finger under the one loose stitch, pulling it until the thread snapped. I unwove the stitches and separated the cloth squares, the symbol in the fibers vanishing. Then I tucked the thread and cloth away and went on the hunt for some food.

It was a short one, culminating in a fight with the vending machine to get a few packages of jerky. I sat down in one of the lobby chairs and picked at one of the open rips when the door flung itself open before slamming shut. No one visually entered, but the very faint sound of feet padding across the ratty carpet reached my ears. I ignored his theatrics as the noise made its way over, zig-zagging here and there and disappearing momentarily behind the counter, the staff only door rocking for a moment. I got up with a groan and picked at a bit of jerky stuck between my teeth as I walked to the counter and rested my elbows on the wood. The door rocked again and the padding stopped, my face inches away from where I imagined another face was. I smiled my smile of pointy teeth and said, “that’s called stealing, ya know.”

There was a moment of silence before a head appeared out of thin air, seeming to float in front of me. Black shaggy hair fell into raven eyes, a frown on his round face. “That’s not funny, ya know.”

I shrugged. “I disagree. But I’m glad to see you weren’t lying about the cloth.”

“I never lie unless it’s convenient,” he answered. “What do you want?”

I opened my mouth to answer when I heard someone else approaching. I turned to find Layla coming into the room. She hesitated, staring at Rod with that withdrawn, mistrustful stare. Her eyes flicked to me, trying to understand who I was talking to and why. She thankfully – and oddly – decided trust over paranoia. “Who’s he?”

“That’s my line,” he answered.

  “Layla, this is Rod,” I said calmly, ignoring him. “He can help us. Rod,” I turned back. “This is Layla. She’s the reason I found you again in the first place.”

“But who is he?”

“Oh,” I blinked. She was asking more than name. Was he Keeper? Marwolaeth? Something else? I shook my head. “He’s…on our side.”

“I’m a thief.” He interjected. “I’m on my own side.”

“He owes me a favor, so for now he’s on our side.”

  “Funny,” he said, glancing back at Layla, “she doesn’t look like a priceless artifact or anything else I’m remotely interested in.”

  “We need your help.”

  Layla took a step forward and declared, “I’m looking for a Marwolaeth named Darius.”

“And Keepers,” I added. “They’re being hunted by Keepers.”

  He blinked, tilting his head towards me and muttering, “seriously? What’d she do, fart on a goblin?”

  “Someone murdered my father,” she said, a little growl in her throat. “I attempted to find said someone. Didn’t notice there were humans around.”

  “And the Keepers wanted you to play nice.” He rubbed at his chin. “Permissible offense. Probably a first-timer, by your looks.” Glancing back at me, he asked, “who’s after her? Rach? Hal? Annie?”

  “Omar.”

  His smile dropped and he stared at me.

  I nodded. “With that in mind, think we could get out of the lobby? And…you know…you could stop being a floating head?”

  He hesitated, glancing down as if he forgot the rest of his body was covered with magic that made it invisible. “Right. Camouflage sheeting.” He glanced around, the sound of shuffling leading to a reveal of his body. The air shimmered for a moment as his magic flared, a sheet of camouflage-print cloth in his hand. “Com’on, I’ve got a place to start.”


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