Chapter 119: Now, we dance (until we fall)

After returning Glow to the collective, Squirt followed the lord back to the den. It took a long time for her to fall back asleep, her thoughts a swirling mess of courting and kidnapping, swapping back and forth with no rhyme or reason. The pest. Puds. Nutso. Darko. The redcap she killed. Lord Everwinter. Princess Jezalin.

She wasn’t sure how much sleep she ended up with beyond just “not enough.”

Yet, as always, she woke with the dawn and headed out to check on the greenlings. The lord had thankfully shifted back at some point in the night, meaning she didn’t have a massive wolf trotting along after her in the morning.

Meaning that when she slipped into the carriage storage, there was no one there to see how she stopped and scanned the room for a certain pest.

Except, of course, Pakos.

You could have just asked.

Did he come back?

Not that I saw.

Figures.

So many talents, and yet I pale in comparison to—

Shut up, Pakos.

Deciding that the pest was fine and didn’t need her, she instead started about her business for all of ten minutes before Breezy approached her nervously.

“Yes?”

“Pardon me, Squirt, but have you perhaps seen the fey Fel?”

At Squirt’s blank look, Breezy helpfully clarified, “The pink haired one that sings. He was supposed to help with the onions for the stew this morning.”

Of course he was. “He’s… busy.”

The disappointment in her eyes filled Squirt with fury. “Ah. I understand—”

“Not that kind, Breezy.” It was a common euphemism for having lost interest in greenlings entirely. “He’s…” she struggled to quantify it before landing on, “… helping me.”

At least, he thought he was helping. Somehow.

Breezy gave her a smile that had just a touch of bitterness she couldn’t, or didn’t, hide. “Some of us are blessed by Love’s touch more than once, it seems.”

Love’s touch. A turn of phrase for a greenling’s fey finding them.

The bitterness was not directed at Squirt. It was the bitterness of an elder wishing they had the privileges of youth. Envy towards blessings never received.

The bitterness was quickly banished for warmth, her hand reaching out and touching Squirt’s elbow, the action familiar and intended to be comforting. “These blessings are best in your hands.”

Meaning more literally that of all fey, Breezy was glad this blessing happened to Squirt. As if Squirt was deserving of what Breezy never had.

As if Breezy had wanted someone like the Sia-bitch.

Squirt merely inclined her head before stepping back away from Breezy, breaking the contact on her elbow politely. “Excuse me. Glow has woken. I need to speak with him.”

Breezy inclined her head, touching her forehead once in a gesture of respect to Squirt, before turning back and heading to the other waking elders gathering around their makeshift kitchen, leaving Squirt to tumultuous thoughts.

Hours passed. Training Puds came and went. Then Mid-morning training. And yet still, no pest.

Fuck it.

The greenlings would be fine without her for a few hours. They managed just fine yesterday, and she needed to wean them off her, anyway. It wouldn’t be long now until they got their own accommodations, and anyway, no one from Everwinter was bothering them. The appearance of some sixty greenlings at training in her same outfit and style had sent waves through the crowd, and she had no doubt the rumors would reach the city by the end of the hour.

Meaning a lower chance of greenlings being taken for dressing as her when those with at least half a brain would realize what their ploy was.

Hopefully.

And those with no brains just brought her full circle back to the pest.

Which was why, an hour after training had ended, Squirt found herself jumping from shadow to shadow in the temporary housing district once more. Another caravan had left that morning, the population of the tent city starting to shrink already, meaning fewer shadows to hide in. The jumbled maze disrupted by the group that had left made navigation even trickier than the night before.

But finally—the barrels.

And just beyond them, she could hear the pest.

“One, two, three, four! One, two, three, four!”

Squirt leaned her head around the barrels to see the pest and the three troublemakers standing in a line.

Well, not standing, really.

The pest was clapping, leading them in provocative dance steps while humming a tune and counting the steps. Based on the imprints in the dirt under their feet, they’d been at this for long enough to stomp a visible line into the sparce grass.

Whatever inhibitions they might have had the night before were forgotten. All three of the troublemakers dancing like the world was their stage, none more so than the eight-foot ogre, his hips gyrating with an enthusiastic sensuality she would have never expected out of the warty-faced blue-skinned fey who was more lumps than form. And yet, though the moves were simple, there was an undeniable conviction to his dance that translated directly to stage charisma, leaving her momentarily stunned.

“Yes, yes, this is good, keep it up, feel the beat.” The pest spun to face them, an instrument appearing in his hands as he did. They had gathered a small crowd of fey pausing between doing their own business in and around the tent city, more than one catcalling the ogre. Even the elf was getting some appreciative glances, a haughty elegance to his gyrating that the enthusiastic ogre lacked.

The fishman was… shockingly flexible.

This was ridiculous. Together the three of them actually had the makings of a famous dance troupe.

The pest began a common tavern song about a changeling wearing every color to please their lady love, the barmaid with the yellow hair. The ogre, having yellow hair in several visible places, tossed his head and became the pretty barmaid in his evocative dance.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

It was more hilarity than finesse, the sheer unabashed passion with which the ogre was performing in every jiggle of his shoulders or hips shocking because, miraculously, the dichotomy worked. The dance was sensual. The ogre was not. And yet, together, it was somehow a perfect match.

How did the pest possibly know that this would be the result? Had he simply guessed? Was he hoping to make them a dance troupe instead of mercenaries?

This couldn’t possibly have been his plan. Could it?

“Yes, yes! Be the music! That confidence, yes!”

The pest’s earnest encouragements broke Squirt. Turning into the shadow of the barrels, she quietly muffled genuine giggles.

This was ridiculous. How could this possibly be a solution? And why was it working?

Because it was really working. On every level. The three fey looked to be having the time of their lives dancing to the pest’s music, their performance was already attention grabbing and well-choreographed, and they were equally both hilarious and weirdly tantalizing.

Not her type but she couldn’t deny the appeal for others.

Why had she worried about the pest, again?

Another particularly enthusiastic hip thrust from the ogre sent Squirt into another smothered fit of giggles. Movement at her side drew her eyes to the pest. Her eyes wide, her hand covering her quickly fading smile, she stared at him. Then glanced back over the barrels at the pest still strumming along for the trio.

Then back at the pest standing next to her. Her hand fell from her mouth to her belt, realizing this was probably another clone.

… am I… still allowed to court, or…?

Clearly sensing something on her mind, a sliver of his magic passed over them, encasing them in a small bubble of silence.

She opened her mouth to say something, unsure of how to put her thoughts into words. Her incredulity. Amusement. Amazement. Confusion. Trying to make it all succinct enough to answer one gods damned question for the ridiculous, stupid, stupidly handsome fey smiling at her expectantly, waiting for the words she couldn’t seem to put together.

Fuck the right words. The pest could figure it out.

She cast another glance over the barrels before asking, “How much longer do you think?”

The pest shrugged. “I think I could leave now, but I am having fun.” He grinned. “They are good students.”

Squirt suspected it was more that he was a good teacher, but that would be a compliment, and a compliment was a step too far. “Right.”

“Oh, I am still watching the others. Everyone else expected has returned as expected.” He tapped his temple with his fingers. “I’m keeping track.”

And all she could do was conjure a squirt of water—

“Do you have need of me?”

There was far too much sincere hope in his eyes, the unconscious plead of his stilling her temper long enough to consider the question.

Did she?

Just when she was about to turn around and leave without addressing anything, a shiver went down her spine and her eyes went wide. The answer slipped out without her tangled thoughts trapping it in her head, spurned on by sheer instinct. “Yes.”

The pest stiffened before leaning forward to ask, “What, what is it?”

Squirt wasn’t sure. It wasn’t a surge.

If anything, it felt like the bone whale.

In one smooth motion she grabbed a hold of Pakos as he warped in, the two of them moving as one being. Pakos raced up and into the sky while she seated herself on his back, ignoring the gasps of surprise from those who saw them burst from the shadows. They raced to the northern wall, Pakos defying gravity as he ran along the open air until she could see the smoke. They landed, the soldiers on the wall gasping out in surprise at their appearance while someone else yelled, “Fire! Forest fire!”

The alarm bells began blaring, but Squirt knew they wouldn’t be fast enough. Already the beast was at the edge of the forest, heading straight for those working in the fields.

The fields they desperately needed.

“Huntress?”

Turning her attention to the pest, a plan formed in her mind. She reached out a hand to him. There was the briefest moment where she swore she could see the gods damned sun in his smile, but before she could even formulate the words to hurry him, he grasped her hand and allowed her to pull him up behind her. To the nearest guards, she shouted, “Inferno bear!”

The pest’s arms went around her waist, and Pakos took off, leaping off the edge of the wall towards the burning Wylds beyond. Pakos flew over the fields, the alarm bells blaring and farmers racing for the shelter of the wall on the ground below Pakos’s feet. Over the din, Squirt asked the pest in a strained voice, “Can you make a mana ball big enough to lure it?”

He squeezed her waist with his arms and nodded in answer, and despite the heat of the moment, touch starved as she was, she still registered how much she enjoyed his hold on her.

“Good—do it now!”

Pulling one arm away from her waist, with one flick of his wrist he had generated a ball almost as big as Squirt herself.

Gritting her teeth and tamping down on her desire to stab him with sheer envy, she leaned forward, mentally directing Pakos. The hound made a hard bank right, and Squirt grabbed a hold of the pest’s arm around her waist to keep him from falling off, securing him in place while Pakos raced over to the burning treetops.

The beast broke through the tree line just as Pakos reached it, and with a snarl of challenge, her hound drew its attention, the mana ball keeping it. Flames shot out to surround them, the creature opening its mouth in a roar, but Pakos darted up and over its shoulder before taking off for the larger Wylds.

The pest called out, “Should we do something about the forest fire?”

Squirt had to shout to be heard over the crashing of trees. “Later! We need to get it away from the Keep. The forest will recover, but the crops won’t!”

“Understand!” He answered.

Her brow twitched as she shouted back, “You mean understood, idiot, conjugate the damn verb!”

“Right, right, sorry, distracted!”

Pakos was racing along the tops of the trees as the inferno bear chased after them, darting and dodging every fire blast it sent their way, leaping over flaming walls with ease. Sweat poured down Squirt’s face from the sheer intensity of the flames, and more than once, her lungs seized from the burning air.

He called out over the roaring of the flames, “What plan is it?”

Gods damnit, Common was spoken by everyone—

Shoving her petty annoyances from her mind, she instead shouted back, “Can you bury it?”

“Yes—but why?”

“We need to cut off the air supply to the fire. Earth or water work best.”

“Does it matter where?”

She almost said no, knowing that Pakos’s energy was starting to flag. Instead, she directed Pakos and answered, “I’ll say when!”

“Understood!”

Pakos took the unspoken command, diverting them a little west of where they had been headed as fast as he could, far enough from the keep and other fey that, with any luck, the pest’s identity wouldn’t be compromised.

She called back, “Ready?”

“Yes!”

She waited just long enough for Pakos’s signal before shouting, “Now!”

The pest dropped the mana ball, his wings appearing on his back. He stayed in place as Pakos moved, facing down the giant inferno bear with a grin on his face. Pakos turned, holding position and catching his breath, the both of them ready to dive back in for him if he needed it.

Holding his hands up, the pest didn’t even chant. Instead, a wave of magic pulsed out from him so thick the very air shimmered for hundreds of meters with radiant power, the trees shivering at whatever command he gave. Squirt’s jaw dropped with a touch of awe as the trees parted before the inferno bear, moving themselves out of its way and leaving an open clearing for the battle. As it reached the now cleared area, a resounding, echoing crack cut through the air, and the earth itself parted to each side.

The beast beneath the mass of writhing flame reared up, sensing the impending doom befalling it, launching fire at the pest. Gritting her teeth, Squirt pulled out a shield from her pouch made of a withering willow. Pakos leapt forward, and she used the shield to smack the flaming balls of magic off course, allowing the pest to focus on the larger magic at work.

The ground continued to rumble and shake, a canyon forming under the beast to swallow it up whole. It tried to backtrack, to exit back the way it came, only walls of earth shot up from the ground, blocking it in. With a mighty roar, it attacked with its devastating claws, claws that would have damaged even the stone walls of Everwinter. Now, they were useless. The walls were shifting, moving mounds of dirt, and after the claws carved their way through, they simply refilled themselves back in.

It turned its ire back on the pest, and with a swipe of its paw it sent more fireballs meant to incinerate their targets at him.

Again, Squirt and Pakos were moving before she had time to think, using the shield to knock the balls of flame off course and protect the pest. Her fingers burned from the edge of the flames, and by the third, the shield was little more than a thin layer of soot barely holding on. She dropped it, sparing a thought to be annoyed that she hadn’t gotten more of those while in Norland before turning her attention back on the inferno bear, knowing she had nothing else that could defend against fire like that—

I’m sorry, I—

Pakos’s guilt hit harder than whatever words he tried to convey as he suddenly shrank under her to his pup form. The beast was just being covered by the earth, and she had a moment where she remained suspended in the air, a sudden clarity of wondering why the excess of magic from the pest wasn’t crushing her to death.

And then she began to fall.